Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 20: The Joys of a Foolish Young Man
It was no different from a city bus on Earth—inside the White Sand City’s tram-style steam bus, passengers were packed together like sardines in a tin.
Marlon’s luck wasn’t any better. He didn’t have the perfect situation where a group of soft young women surrounded him and kept him from moving. In front of him stood a muscular Minotaur man, and behind him was indeed a soft, cuddly body—but the problem was that it belonged to a female Pighead of the Piggish tribe, with a face uncannily reminiscent of Feng Jie…
To make matters worse, the blasted tram bus driver somehow managed to turn the tram into a raging roller coEster!
So, after being seduced by the delicious breakfast cooked by the little fox girl Amy that morning, Marlon had eaten without restraint—and now he was paying the price. How could anyone withstand this situation without vomiting?
After enduring only four stops, Marlon summoned his last ounce of strength and squeezed off the bus. He felt certain that continuing any longer would have led to a catastrophic end.
Leaning against a lamppost by the roadside, retching violently for a long while before finally feeling some relief, Marlon couldn’t help but think fondly of the saber-toothed leopard-class steam locomotive owned by the Minotaur youth Ester.
Clearly, taking the bus wasn’t feasible—he really needed a vehicle of his own.
Ester had mentioned that his saber-toothed leopard-class steam locomotive had cost two hundred Lants as leftover military supplies, meaning that even on the market, it would probably go for three or four hundred Lants at most.
Hmm… not too expensive. Definitely affordable!
Taking the bus only earned bus-level income, but driving a vehicle could earn driving-level income. So the sooner he bought one, the better—it was a sound investment.
While Marlon was lost in these thoughts, he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. A fragrant handkerchief appeared before him, held by a fair-skinned hand so delicate that its veins were visible beneath the skin.
“Oh, thank you,” Marlon instinctively reached out to take it, but then remembered he wasn’t in his office on Earth, nor at the orphanage where the children adored him.
“You’re welcome. You’re now one of our authors under the publishing house. Looking after our authors is the duty of the publisher,” said a voice—before Marlon could even turn around, the voice of the red-haired queen of the Emerald Crest Publishing House, Ivna, reached his ears.
“Why are you here?”
Using the handkerchief Ivna had handed him to wipe his mouth, Marlon turned his head and indeed saw her—dressed in a professional suit skirt, wearing a floral lady’s hat, her red hair elegantly piled high to reveal a slender neck. The sight made him ask the question naturally.
But before he could dwell on it, Marlon noticed a shiny, large beetle-style steam car parked by the roadside behind Ivna, and a young man in a black tailcoat adorned with gold buttons, his collar tied with a flashy white lace cravat—someone who screamed “wealthy heir.”
As expected, Ivna smiled and said, “I was passing by and happened to see you, so I stopped to say hello.”
Pausing slightly, she then adopted a serious expression. “Marlon, I’m truly sorry about your aunt’s tragic fate… but since it has already happened, you know that grief will solve nothing. I hope you can pull yourself together—you still need to be responsible for your little cousin’s future.”
Her words were clearly meant to console him. Unaware of the full story, she assumed that Marlon had been unconscious for two days due to excessive grief over Aunt Weina Lister.
“Thank you. I’m feeling much better now!”
Marlon didn’t explain or argue—he simply responded to Ivna’s comfort.
Ivna studied his expression carefully. Seeing no trace of sadness in his eyes, she finally nodded. “That’s good! Let’s go to the publishing house—it’s time to turn the preliminary contract into a formal publishing agreement!”
Then, almost casually, she added, “I’ve already prepared enough paper to print a hundred thousand copies of The Little Prince!”
Marlon didn’t respond. To him, it was just another one of Ivna’s grand promises.
Having enough paper to print a hundred thousand copies of The Little Prince didn’t necessarily mean they would actually be printed. Any other naïve fourteen- or fifteen-year-old might have their heart racing with excitement—but Marlon remained unimpressed.
Seeing Marlon’s complete lack of reaction, Ivna inwardly sighed—this boy really had a strong nerve. Printing a first edition of a hundred thousand copies and he didn’t even flinch?
Shaking her head, Ivna turned and pointed to the young man standing next to the shiny beetle-like steam car. “Meet him, Marlon. This is my fiancé, Descartes Neulen von Stein. Descartes, this is the young author I told you about, Marlon Lister, who wrote The Little Prince.”
“You’re Marlon?” The sharply dressed young man rotated his silver eyes in their deep sockets, slightly bowing to avoid appearing rude, then spoke in an aloof tone meant to keep others at a distance. “With all due respect, dear cousin Ivna, that little story you wrote, The Little Prince, is just a clumsily written, dull fairy tale.”
Marlon’s blood boiled. He was about to retort, but Ivna spoke before he could.
“Descartes, mind your words!”
Her brows furrowed, her aura shifting into an overwhelming force.
Descartes visibly flinched, his mouth twitching. Under Ivna’s piercing gaze, he shrugged reluctantly. “Fine, I retract my earlier statement.”
Still slightly unwilling to admit defeat, he added, “Well, Marlon… at least comparing women to prickly roses in that messy Little Prince is spot on. That interesting twist alone should sell a few hundred copies. I’ve already told the butler to buy a copy for my study.”
Finishing his words, apparently fearing further scolding from Ivna, Descartes ducked into the polished steam car, striking the pose of a driver.
Glancing at Ivna, whose face had darkened like a storm cloud, Marlon was surprised to find he felt no anger at all. Descartes’ idiotic remarks about him and The Little Prince didn’t bother him in the slightest.
Ha. Whether on Earth or in another world, foolish young men were undeniably a universal species.
This Descartes, openly insulting Ivna in front of her—was he not afraid that the queenly fiancée might… angrily call off the engagement?
If that happened… it would be amusing.
Marlon thought quietly to himself, with no malice.