The Strongest Brother Lost His Memory-Chapter 14

“Hahahahaha!”

Murloc burst into hearty laughter, gripping the newspaper tightly.

“Yes, yes! This is it! The heavens are smiling upon Murloc Noart today!”

Feeling better than ever, Murloc skimmed over the headline once more.

A Massive Landslide Buries Teppan

Caliban’s last known location was Solom. The next city along the imperial route had been Teppan.

The newspaper detailed the tragedy in full. Communication had been lost for a long time, and recovery efforts would take even longer.

“A large number of people are trapped, the roads are completely cut off, and the communication spheres have been down for a while,” one of Murloc’s subordinates reported.

“If there’s still no contact, doesn’t that mean the Count got caught in the landslide? He might be in serious trouble... maybe even dead...”

“Well. That would be ideal...”

Murloc stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“But Father isn’t the type to die so easily. He’ll find a way back, one way or another. Still, he’ll definitely be delayed.”

Murloc smirked as he looked at the calendar.

The monthly meeting was approaching fast. It was already a given that Count Noart wouldn’t be attending. And even after that, he wouldn’t be returning for quite some time.

“The later he returns, the better.”

Murloc muttered with a twisted grin.

“That way, we can clean things up and kick that butcher brat out onto the streets with nothing.”

Julian, with his memory loss, wasn’t the least bit intimidating.

And Rosie, with her clueless, innocent act, wasn’t even worth considering.

“They need to disappear before Father gets back. Even if he returns to the empire, he’ll never be able to find them again. Not ever.”

No doubt his other siblings felt the same way.

“Until then, I suppose I can play nice with Felide and Monica.”

****

A Few Days Later

“Wow... seriously...”

Peter, the attending physician, marveled as he unwrapped the bandages from Julian’s right leg.

“I’ve never seen recovery like this. Your body is practically made of steel.”

Following Peter’s instructions, Julian leaned on his crutches and took a few steps.

“You never used to listen to a word I said, but this time, you actually took your medicine properly and did your rehab diligently.”

“Ahem, well, I tried a little harder this time. But hey, what’s with that tone?”

“Oh, just a feeling. It’s definitely not because looking into your dumb, clueless eyes reminds me of the old days, making it a bit harder to take you seriously.”

“Hmph.”

“At this rate, you’ll be back to daily life in no time. Just be careful not to overdo it.”

Peter smiled in satisfaction as he observed Julian’s progress.

“You even got out of the wheelchair much faster than expected. It’s impressive.”

“Ahem, well, yeah.”

The mention of the wheelchair made Julian’s expression turn slightly awkward.

After all, he never did get the chance to show Rosie.

That night, when he had boldly gone to her room...

Through the slightly open door, he had seen Rosie sobbing.

She had been clutching a framed photograph of the two of them from before he lost his memory, tears streaming down her face.

Julian had frozen, watching her quietly from the hallway. Then, without saying a word, he had turned the wheelchair around and gone back to his room.

After all, she hadn’t called for him—she had called for Shulva.

‘What the hell... That little brat keeps smiling at me like nothing’s wrong.’

She was always grinning—so much it was almost irritating.

Yet the moment she was alone, she cried like that.

And she didn’t want him to see. She cried in secret because she didn’t want him to know.

Because, in the end, she was crying because of him.

Which meant he couldn’t even comfort her.

The next morning, Rosie had shown up in front of him, dressed impeccably, smiling as if nothing had happened.

But no matter what, the image of her crying wouldn’t leave his mind.

‘Why was she crying so hard... She looked pitiful.’

Tears trickling down her plump, pale cheeks.

A tiny, curled-up figure, like a little cotton ball.

While Julian was lost in thought, Peter gave him a stern warning.

“Of course, even with this recovery, carrying Lady Rosie on your shoulders, tossing her around—those kinds of things are out of the question. If you must, limit it to twice a day.”

“...Shoulder rides? That big brat?”

Julian asked, dumbfounded.

“She’s not some three-year-old! Why the hell would I give a twelve-year-old a shoulder ride? Are you insane?”

“My thoughts exactly. Honestly, I thought you’d lost your mind. Finally, we’re on the same page.”

“...What?”

“Even when Lady Rosie insisted she was too old for it, you used to pick her up at least twelve times a day and make a whole mess of things. In any case, it’s not happening anytime soon.”

“......”

Julian scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed.

“Ahem, anyway.”

He quickly changed the subject.

“So, I can walk, sit, and move around as long as I’m careful?”

“As I said, if you don’t push yourself too hard.”

Peter placed the prescribed medicine on the table as he replied.

“Of course, sword training and the like are out of the question. Oh, and no crawling around with Lady Rosie on your back, either.”

“...Crawling? I did that too? Seriously, I was a disaster.”

“You’re telling me. It was really something.”

Julian let out a deep sigh. He was starting to fear whatever else might come out of Peter’s mouth.

No wonder no one batted an eye when he handed over his entire fortune to a twelve-year-old...

“You keep double-checking what you can do, and that’s suspicious. Feels like you’re planning something ridiculous.”

Peter narrowed his eyes.

“What exactly are you scheming... Oh, and no hopping on one foot while carrying Lady Rosie, either.”

“Why the hell would I even do that? Are you insane?”

“Obviously, you can’t do it on two feet either.”

“...That’s not the kind of thing I meant!”

Julian practically yelled before trying another few steps on his crutches.

“In any case, Lady Rosie will be pleased when she sees your progress.”

Peter chuckled lightly.

“She’s been incredibly concerned about your recovery.”

His voice had softened with emotion.

“She said she doesn’t care if you’re not as strong as before, as long as you’re healthy. Honestly, for such a hopeless troublemaker, you’ve got an incredible little sister.”

“Heh, what a nosy brat. She should worry about herself instead. Who even calls that kid twelve? At most, she looks nine.”

“Yes, of course.”

With a polite bow, Peter exited the room.

Julian cautiously took a few more steps, muttering curses as he ruffled his hair.

There was something Peter didn’t know.

Rosie wasn’t coming today.

She had sent a note along with some snacks earlier.

“Hmph, not like I was waiting for her anyway.”

The writing was scrawled unevenly, with a few misspellings.

And this little kid is supposed to attend a meeting...?

Damn it.

It was bothering him.

Everything about her was getting under his skin.

Her smiling face. Her crying face.

At first, when he was told he had a younger sister, it hadn’t been like this.

Back then, it was just a sense of responsibility.

Nothing more.

“Oppa!”

After he regained consciousness, that little brat had come to see him every single day.

“This is good, right? I’ll be back later!”

At every meal, she made sure to show up, subtly pushing his favorite dishes toward him...

“Whoa, kid! Is it diamonds today? Sitting here, I get to see every jewel in existence. You could spare me one, couldn’t you?”

“Hng... If I did, my whole body and soul would break out in a rash. I’m so sorry I can’t.”

She visited twice a day, sometimes more. And every time, her clothes and jewelry were different.

Eventually, he stopped asking who bought them for her. The answer was always the same—his past self.

Just like a man who once had 1.37 trillion gold, he had spent extravagantly.

At first, seeing a kid so decked out in jewels felt odd, but after a while, it all suited her. It was cute.

What the hell, why am I thinking about that brat again?

Julian shook his head, trying to push Rosie out of his thoughts, and turned his gaze elsewhere.

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That’s when he noticed Shulva’s dark expression.

“Shulva, why do you look like a walking corpse?”

“...I wouldn’t go that far... I’m just concerned.”

Shulva’s voice was heavy with thought.

“You may not be paying much attention to it, but we still haven’t been able to contact the Count.”

“...What?”

“And I just received word that there was a massive landslide in a city along his travel route. I’m worried he might be trapped there.”

Julian swayed slightly, and Shulva quickly reached out to steady him before continuing.

“A landslide? So that old man might’ve died there?”

“Count Noart isn’t someone who would die so easily... But he could be stuck there for quite a while.”

Shulva sighed, finally voicing what was on his mind.

“I know it’s impossible, but... I was hoping for a miracle—that the Count would return before the monthly meeting. If he were here, Lady Rosie wouldn’t have to face those relatives alone.”

Hearing that, Julian slowly removed Shulva’s hand from his arm.

Then, without a word, he resumed his walking exercises with the crutches.