Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 21: Bad news, good news
Marlon hadn’t guessed wrong—the model of the car Descartes was driving really was called a Beetle—though it wasn’t made by Volkswagen.
As for the price, it went for five thousand lant per bare car, with another ten lant for registration.
Not exactly cheap, but there were savings elsewhere: no compulsory traffic insurance, no need to buy overpriced fuel at seven or eight lant a pound every few days. Instead, you just had to replenish the energy crystal about once every six months.
The Beetle drove smoothly, its shock absorption system seemingly excellent, making Marlon—who’d nearly vomited from the jarring trams earlier—feel much more comfortable.
But Descartes, sitting behind the wheel, kept talking without pause, words tumbling out without much thought, constantly flaunting his privileged upbringing. That, on the other hand, made Marlon rather uncomfortable.
Still… for Ivna’s sake, Marlon decided not to stoop to Descartes’s level.
Yet, really… how could Ivna—a sharp, capable woman who had single-handedly earned the name “Red-Haired Queen”—possibly tolerate such a brainless, pretentious fiancé?
They were utterly mismatched.
Marlon shook his head regretfully, casting a glance at Ivna, who had chosen to sit beside him in the back rather than take the passenger seat.
Ivna’s face betrayed nothing, while Descartes prattled on endlessly, recounting the refined life he’d led during his schooling in Vita City:
“…Marlon, do you know what a Yunluo Shad is? It looks just like the common Yunluo fish, but when you open its belly, you’ll find only ten bones. A soup made from Yunluo Shad is smooth, tender, and delicious beyond compare. The ordinary Yunluo fish, by contrast, is nothing more than food for the lower classes. Heh, I doubt you knew that. But since Ivna has taken a liking to you, you ought to learn about these things. Otherwise, if you ever find yourself in high society, you’ll make a fool of yourself—and that would embarrass me.”
Marlon was dumbstruck. Good heavens, first brainless, then pretentious… what a combination!
“Mm. Thanks for the lesson.”
Out of respect for Ivna, Marlon answered with a perfunctory grunt.
“Do I need your thanks? Let me tell you, I’m only sharing these things to help Ivna—it has nothing to do with you. Now then, we’ve finished with the Yunluo Shad. Next, let’s talk about Vita City’s Emerald Forest…”
Head held high, Descartes puffed up like a proud little rooster, blathering on.
By this point, Ivna’s face had darkened several shades—darker than a magistrate’s—until finally, she could endure no more. The full force of her queenly aura erupted:
“Descartes! Stop the car—right now!”
Overwhelmed by Ivna’s sudden display of authority, Descartes instantly deflated. He obediently pulled the steam-powered Beetle to the side of the road.
“You,” Ivna snapped, gritting her teeth, “go back and tell Father that I’m… very busy!”
Dragging the reluctant Marlon out of the car with her, she left Descartes bewildered and speechless. Without a backward glance, Ivna marched straight toward Banmubuk Street, where her Emerald Crest Publishing House was located.
For Marlon, being pulled along by a beautiful woman earned him envious looks from passing men—but the sharp pressure of Ivna’s fingernails digging into his arm was pure torture. Who could he complain to about such cruel treatment?
Well, as the saying went, one doesn’t bite the hand that feeds. Marlon could only endure.
But as they turned the corner, he finally couldn’t hold back:
“President Ivna, could you loosen your grip? Don’t worry, I won’t run away…”
“…Sorry.”
Clearly, Ivna realized she’d been too forceful.
Marlon smiled to show he didn’t mind, and Ivna released his arm.
Rubbing the sore spot, Marlon glanced back. Descartes hadn’t followed in his five-thousand-lant Beetle—likely choosing to protect his pride.
“I was engaged to Descartes before the war broke out. Back then…” Ivna’s voice lowered, almost to herself, “back then, he wasn’t like this.”
Had Marlon moved to walk in front of her, he would have seen the confusion and wistful reminiscence clouding Ivna’s eyes.
Is this… a confession?
Marlon fell silent, wondering how to respond—when Ivna’s tone suddenly shifted:
“Hm, strange… why am I even telling you such nonsense?”
This time, Marlon had an answer:
“Probably because you see me as someone you can speak to as an equal—as a friend.”
Ivna glanced at him, said nothing, but slowed her pace so that they walked side by side, not one after the other.
In silence, the two of them reached Banmubuk Street and entered the Emerald Crest Publishing House.
“Welcome ba—oh! President?!”
The receptionist—still that fearsome-looking yet sweet-voiced female troll—was startled to see Ivna and Marlon arrive together.
“Cremit, fetch Vice President Arandor and Lawyer Lucifer. Tell them to be in my office within a quarter hour,” Ivna ordered, her tone calm, as though the troll were her temporary secretary.
“Oh, right away!” Cremit replied, hurrying to obey—only to be called back halfway up the stairs.
“One more thing. Prepare a glass of honey water for Mr. Marlon.”
Honey water—good for the stomach.
That small, thoughtful detail touched Marlon, following behind Ivna up the stairs.
Moments later, in Ivna’s office, Marlon held the cup of honey water she had specifically ordered for him.
“Marlon,” Ivna said at last, “I have one piece of good news, and one piece of bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”
Marlon calmly finished his honey water, folded his hands before him, and replied:
“The bad.”
He preferred bitterness first, sweetness after.
Ivna didn’t question his choice. She went straight to the point:
“Marlon, due to funding and distribution issues, I’ve decided to postpone publication of your Little Prince.”
Without doubt, that was bad news.
But Marlon showed no change of expression, simply asking—
“…Then what’s the good news?”