Resurrection of Duke Werstein ~ I Didn't Hear Anything About Being A Middle-aged Man ~

I left the study after exchanging an appointment with Mr. Augusto's mother to see her again at dinner in the dining room as Mr. Clifford.

After I hear the door close behind me, I send my gaze to the old butler.

"... I'm sorry, I tried to explain, but I've thought about it many times, and I really..."

Toothless, I almost got zero sigh of sigh in response to the old butler looking depressed somewhere.

"... well, my mother is no longer..."

Instead of sighing, it feels like squealing, words like that overflow.

Clifford Verstein.

This is the name of Mr. Augusto's father, a former head of the Verstein family.

If I traced my memory, what echoed in my head was a cold voice, so much so that I didn't think it was directed at my young fruit son.

"You don't deserve the Versteins."

"Are you sure it's my boy?

"Don't you even know that much?"

"Don't touch me, dirty."

Strict, cold and ruthless, Mr. Auguste's father, who was vainly educating Spartan to make little Augusten the person he deserved.

"Oh, yeah, me, it'll be good, that's why."

He was indifferent and refused even to touch it.

Nor was it allowed to be sweet by the mother, and the presence of a father was absolute for Mr. Augusto, who spent his childhood surrounded by a strict tutor prepared by his father.

"About me, I don't care."

So much so that I'm mistaken with someone like that, that Mr. Augusto may look similar right now, but I kind of hate it.

I felt the wrinkles between nature and my eyebrows deepen in the cutting voice of the little Augusto echoing in my head.

Indeed, in my memory, Mr. Augusto is like a father.

Even around the time of his death, he was about Mr. Augusto now.

But who the hell could have imagined my real son as my own husband?

Mr. Augusto doesn't have a bad memory of what his parents were like because he was separated from his mother and educated until he started attending school.

But maybe, regardless of the father, the mother, Mr. Augusto's mother, loved that man who was her husband.

Looking at the butler for a moment, he looked pale.

I guess he knew, too, how this was going.

Well, I wouldn't have thought this would happen to both of us.

Maybe I couldn't say anything because Mr. Augusto would be shocked.

Well, that's right.

I can't believe this is happening to my own mother, but if Augusto found out about Julia, it might have broken again.

Mr. Augusto wasn't loved by his father, but he was loved by that guy who was his mother, and Mr. Augusto, after all, loved his parents (both of them).

I'm not sure it's actually true with all the predictions, and all I can talk about is the possibility, something, hard.

"... since when?"

"... signs have been around for about two years,... now almost every day in that way..."

"... well."

I could only return such a grunt to the old butler's, indescribable response.

Whoa, whoa, whoa... seriously.

No, yeah, I can't help it, I can't help it, but why is this happening, Mr. Augusto's mother?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, this already. Come on, what do we do? What am I supposed to do? What's right? Seriously, I don't know.

By moaning only loudly and loudly in my brain, I mislead my complex feelings, but I couldn't speak out, so I knew it was subtle.

That's where I find out.

Oh, yeah, what about the doctor? You saw him, didn't you?

"The doctor, what?

He said, "... maybe it's psychogenic."

Oh, I see, stress.

That's definitely Mr. Augusto's cause.

Actually, I don't know if it's Mr. Augusto's fault, but it's Mr. Eighty-Nine Augusto's fault.

Something's not about me. I'm sorry.

However, cardiogenicity may improve somewhat if the stress that is causing it is eliminated.

I'm a little reluctant as a cure, but there's just hope. It'll still be better.

I guess that makes me either a mental illness, or that illness that's been a problem in modern times, but I'm going to have to ask my attending for more information.

In the near future, we will discuss the disease with the attending physician, and then the treatment.

I'm not an expert, and I regret that my knowledge of the medical system is only as necessary for the role I play.

I've been studying to some extent, but it's wide and shallow and only has enough knowledge to be purchased on TV and online.

I can't believe I only read about school textbooks and scripts, but now I regret it.

No, I can't help it because I don't think I'm gonna need knowledge here.

I mean, can I have one?

Rosa... tell Rosalind and Mikaelis what happened?

I'm letting the rest of your family know, right?

I don't think there's anything about you and your son not letting you know.

"... on my own, I have not yet told you, I foolishly wondered if it would be more comforting not to know..."

"... well."

Uh, yeah, well, I don't have a choice.

For your sister, your mother, your son, you'd be shocked what your grandmother thought of this happening.

Even my flesh parent, Mr. Augusto, was out of his mind, and on top of that, even my grandma, it's too much.

Still, I think we should let you know soon... that we're both going to be so shocked.

I don't know... what else to do, but I don't know... what to do.

Uh, what is it?

I'm going to cry.

No, I'm not crying.

I feel that if I cry now, something majestic about Mr. Augusto will smash.

I'd like to avoid that a bit.

There, I realize.

That, why are you so depressed to me?

I should have thought it would have helped.

Because being able to stay unnoticed by Mr. Augusto's changes means that the burden of doing so has decreased.

I'm glad to hear that, but I was about to cry for some reason.

Still, maybe this is no choice.

Anyway, I've never really hit a wall-like wall, modern Japanese.

There's no way I'm not shocked to actually see something like a drama.

I was disgusted with my weak self.

... but you can't be in shock and depressed forever.

I still have a pile of things to do.

All right, let's do our best to switch.

Come on, come on! I can do it! I'm the one who can do it. I am! Fight!

Desperately inspiring himself, I was forced to switch heads.

Now for now, let's finish what we have planned for today.

You can still be depressed.

Anyway, breathe in to calm down and exhale slowly.

Then I felt just a little better.

Maybe it's your fault, but if it still gets better, that's fine.

I was forced to say the words, like I was going to shake off the feeling of being depressed.

"... there's someone I'd like you to meet before dinner."

I came here to see him.

The old butler had already arranged for me to meet the person in the annex.

I left the guidance to the butler and asked the old butler to check the carriage's luggage.

There's no particular reason, but when I said I wanted to make it a little easier as an apology for taking care of you for twelve years, the old butler sent me off laughing frankly, somewhere delusional.

Then, the butler gave a slightly subtle look to the old butler, who has been suffering from pain and pain in his back lately.

That was the next great house of kings in the country, to the extent that I think it was definitely tight for the old butler, there was a distance to the annex.

There is a certain person in Augusto's home like the castle who currently leaves the territory at his disposal.

If the butler is Mr. Augusto's right arm, then the person is his left arm, which is the same old brother-in-law who was born and raised together in this land.

When I arrived in front of the guest room in the annex, I heard mumbling noises.

"Apparently, you have a client."

Convinced by the words of the sober butler, I see.

No matter how many appointments you make, you end up leaving everything in your territory to you, and I guess you're busy.

The next moment I thought about it, Mr. Augusto's awesome spec ears picked up a conversation that was supposed to be hard to hear indoors.

"Now, please accept this one."

"Ho ho, that's a special concern."

...... yeah?

No. Instead, please take my chamber of commerce...

'I see, this is...

Ha ha, it's the wal inside. '

......... is that it?, or is it your fault?

"No, not as good as Lord Ernest."

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Wait, wait, I hear a conversation like some evil deputy and a bad merchant in a time play!?

Oh, wait, isn't that what you're doing, healing and bribing?

I don't know, my chances of my neck and torso sayonaring went up with Don.

No, not yet, it hasn't been decided yet, not until we know the truth.

Should we intrude?

Or should I go in after the other person leaves?

Which is more likely to spark me, but I find it easier to ask the current offender.

Ah already! Become!!

After thinking and thinking, I get fucked, I stand in front of the door of the guest room.

Then the butler opened the door to me as a matter of course you guessed my will.

The two indoors who were laughing at each other step in as they sighted seeing this one as surprised.

"Oh, you're a customer?

Calm, dignified, and pale.

Then he placed his hand on his chin and gently tilted his neck, worried to look like a wind full of majesty.

There were three of them indoors.

A skinny, cat-backed, middle-aged man with green-looking gray hair, a fox-like thread face and a Gottsy bodied man with the same hair color and prowler-like shape, fluttering on the couch next to him, a middle-aged man with a bad personality.

Then, a small fat middle-aged man who seems to be a guest.

The fox-faced man apparently acted like a secretary, holding something like paperwork aside the minute I walked into the room.

"Hiya!? Who is it?"

A small, fat man of the Guest's feelings stood up from the couch in a hurry without hiding his fright the moment he saw my face.

Then, while the fox-like man lowered his posture, he rubbed against the guest man while doing what a small trick of rubbing his hands together.

"I'm sorry, Master Echagorn, Ernest seems to be in a hurry... and I'll see you later..."

"Hmm? Well, well, that's no choice."

A fox-like man grins frigidly with a cat stroke as he lets Kosokoso and the guest man grip something.

Yes, it's under a brilliant sleeve. Thank you.

"Well, then, Lord Ernest, I beg your pardon for this, please continue."

"Oh, thanks again."

The guest man, who looked at me frightened but chilling with the eyes of a suspicious person, had such a conversation with a middle-aged man in wrestler shape, and then left like that.

Batan, the next moment I heard the door closing and then the atmosphere around me changed as I checked the footsteps of the guest man farther away and then I was thrilled inside and still managed to open my mouth to talk about something.

If I were to analogize, would it be a tingling air, like in the middle of a school test?

No, I'm sorry, that's all I could think of right now.

No. Let's change it, it's not that halfway through the air.

Oh, that's it, it's close to the tension just before the stage starts.

I don't think it's that tight air, but that's all you know, so you have no choice.

Anyway, the words I tried to get out pulled into the unspeakable air of tingling tension that seemed bad for my skin.

To the point where a foxy man who was cat-backed could ever wonder what the hell he was, he slowly opens those threads with a softly spine-stretched, beautiful standing position.

As it was, nestled beside a middle-aged man in wrestler shape without sound, what a chilling voice came out of his mouth so that he completely erased the frigid smile he had just had and forgotten the cat stroke that was slightly disgusting.

"It's been a while, sir.

"Honey, let me wait a long time, boy."

Then a wrestler-bodied middle-aged man rising from the couch laughs at Dundee with Niyanya, somehow, Nihil or Wild.

This one, too, scratches out the evil proxy vibe until just now, which sounds kind of like a mafia boss.

No, he looks like a villain in the end, but I can't hide it from that look, my respect for me was seeping out.

...... Yeah,... sorry, I just can't keep up.

That? Those frigid people from earlier. Where have you been?

Huh? What is it, this one's true?

Uh, wait, what do you mean?

"Still, whatever it is, twelve years is too long, isn't it?, Hey Paul."

"Brother, it's in front of your husband, please."

"You have no choice, do you? It's a 12-year reunion anyway, huh?

It is such a conversation, with an elbow hanging on the shoulder of a fox-faced man and leaning against him to weigh as much as he wishes.

You're skinny, but you're so weighed up. You're fine, that guy.

No, no, no, I don't care about that.

More than that, where did you go with the evil deputy and the little lower end just now?

Can I say something? Yeah, I'll say it.

I can't keep up.

Absolutely, I can't keep up.

No, yeah, I'm sorry, I don't know what to do anymore because things are happening to me to keep getting up.

I don't understand the translation so much that it's not strange to have white eyes.

Somebody help me.

"So, you finally got a crush on me for coming here?

"Brother, please, my husband had a reason."

While it would have solidified in the confusion, a man who had become like a mafia boss caught fire out of his finger with magic or something on his mouth at some point. After igniting, he sucked in thoughtfully and spewed out poocher and smoke, allowing the smell of tobacco to stand around him.

"Reason tu? You're just so weak, aren't you, Mon Boy? My daughter-in-law is dead. I'm sorry to hear that, but I can't play without a territorial toss."

It is an honest argument that makes no sound.

I'm only sorry about that, I'm really sorry.

No, it's not me.

"Ernesto, you're too rude, just shut up for a second."

Before I spoke, the butler next door sandwiched my mouth with a cold voice, but in the end, Augusto did everything wrong.

Well, it's not actually my fault, but butt wiping is nothing but irrational that I have to do.

I mean, I'm plain angry.

I wonder what the hell I did.

If I see God, I want him to punch me once.

I want him to hit me with enough power to blow up as I spin.

With that in mind, I decided to sort out the information in my head once and for all, without breaking my faceless, calm but dignified attitude.

Um, first of all, a skinny secretary-like man with a fox-face.

He is Paul Scherbourg, now 41 years old.

My main job is to assist my brother and gather information and schedule management.

And next, a mafia-bossy man in wrestler shape.

Ernest Shelbourg, current age is 43.

The main task is territorial management as a lord's agent.

And I'm sure people can tell from the last name and behavior, and then the color of their hair, but they're blood connected brothers.

Not at all similar in shape or anything, but he is a decent brother.

Mr. Augusto and the butler are childhood friendly, dairy brothers.

I doubt why those two were doing something like evil deputies, but I guess we should ask them that in person.

Ten, eighty-nine, I think it's Mr. Augusto's fault though.

Thanks to Mr. Augusto's awesome specs, I decided to open my mouth again, thinking so much in an instant.

"No, everything is my responsibility, so I can't help being bittersweet."

"But, sir..."

"He says it's good.

"... said he had gone too far."

With his gaze from the top, he said it off as embarrassing, and the butler gave me a slightly unconvinced subtle look for a moment before returning a polite thank you.

I'm sorry, Deacon.

Apologize only from the inside, but from the mouth say an apology to them.

Ernesto, I'm sorry.

"Boy, if you're going to apologize, apologize to our cute little brother.

It's been a lot of trouble. "

"Sir, please don't worry about what your brother says.

For me, it's a pleasure to have my husband back. "

Like elbowing your brother, your brother trying to stroke your brother's head while leaning so tight, and your brother looking straight at me and answering sincerely with such a hand and slapping him off.

With this feeling, I somehow realized that this must be their vegetable.

"Che, don't you want to distract your brother so much? My little brother is cute."

"Brother, please stop it because it's depressing"

"What, you can call me brother like you used to, eh?

"What do I have to call my brother a happy, good old middle-aged man, I don't like"

"Don't stare at me like that, you're on top of me, right?

No, hey, I'm sorry, I'm having trouble getting bracon elements buzzed in here with too much information.

Why am I showing off my middle-aged male brothers' bracon friendship?

I don't need it. I mean, who gets a picture like this?

"Ernest, Paul, it's time to come back, we can't talk."

"Heartwarming interactions between brothers..."

"The only thing that's warming my heart is my brother, I'm not warm at all, and everything is cold.

Please don't keep it with your energetic weather brother, I mean, don't stick around, the aging smell of a mixture of tobacco is transmitted, the smell "

"It stinks of age. It's a stinking monster, of course.

Human beings must grow older. They inevitably stink.

I mean, Paul, you're destined to stink, too. "

"My brother and I are not in the same shape and shape, so my pillow smells like soap at the moment, not bad."

"What!? Give it a sniff!

"Please stop because I feel sick"

Now that we know we're close, can we please move on?

I almost took a long shot, but I acted like I normally do at both places.