Chapter 53: Does Hope Come with a Warranty?

‘Honestly, why am I doing this…?’

The Leviathan was the world’s premier hotel.

Fitting its reputation, it housed various facilities: gyms, training grounds, saunas, advisors, tailor shops, conference rooms, gun shops, galleries, and salons.

Among these diverse amenities was a childcare center.

‘It’s not like our facility is some cheap orphanage.’

The utilization rate of the childcare center was naturally low.

The Leviathan’s primary clientele was hardly the type to be concerned with childcare.

However, this was still an official facility of the hotel.

Thus, Chun Su-ran had managed it with pride—until a few days ago, when she was suddenly burdened with twenty-three children.

‘Why do I have to look after the kids that crazy swordsman brought in?’

Chun Su-ran was a professional in her field.

Having mastered various educational theories and accumulated years of experience, caring for a few dozen children should have been nothing to her.

Yet, she felt suffocated for two reasons.

One was the fact that these children were brought here by the Sword Lord.

The other was a single, exceptionally quiet girl.

‘And I have no idea how to handle this one.’

Seong Si-ah.

Among the twenty-three children who had suddenly arrived, she was the eldest.

She assisted in childcare by informing the staff of the other children’s habits and preferences.

Even children older than her looked up to her like a big sister.

In many ways, she was a child who required no effort to manage.

‘I don’t like it.’

Chun Su-ran knew the moment she saw her.

Looking like an ordinary girl was just a facade; Si-ah was anything but normal.

That abnormality was clear just by observing what she did during her free time.

What did she do?

It was the opposite.

The problem was that she did nothing.

She didn’t play.

She didn’t rest.

She didn’t sleep.

The way she just sat there, perfectly still, was less “unusual” and more “uncanny.”

Combined with her lifeless eyes, she gave off a chilling aura, like a machine with a dead battery or a corpse.

‘I’d rather just leave her be, but…’

After watching Si-ah with dissatisfied eyes for a long time, Chun Su-ran suppressed her discomfort, put on a smile, and spoke to her.

“Um, Si-ah?”

“Do you need help with something?”

“I didn’t call you because I need help. I just… wanted to offer you some help.”

“You don’t need to help me.”

“Now, don’t be like that. Just listen. Our hotel has someone who is very good at counseling. It would be good for you to talk to them.”

“I don’t need psychological counseling.”

“No, it’s not exactly counseling, but—”

“Then I need it even less.”

“…”

A triple-hit of “I don’t need it,” delivered without a moment’s hesitation.

Chun Su-ran couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

‘That’s exactly why I’m telling you to get counseling, you brat!’

If she were just a wall-building, rebellious teenager, Su-ran would have tried to approach her step-by-step to open her heart.

But Si-ah was a different case.

She didn’t act uninterested; she truly had no interest.

She hadn’t built a wall around her heart; she simply had no heart.

It was a subtle difference, but one that gave Chun Su-ran, who was well-versed in child psychology, a massive headache.

Fortunately, there was someone who could handle Si-ah.

Unfortunately, that sole exception wasn’t Chun Su-ran, nor anyone else working at the Leviathan.

“What’s up, dead-fish eyes? Are you bullying the teacher again?”

It happened at that moment.

Si-ah, who hadn’t budged no matter what Chun Su-ran said, finally turned her head.

“I wasn’t bullying her.”

“Liar. One look at her face and I can tell she’s suffering because of you.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“If you don’t like me being unreasonable, then try smiling. You’ve got eyes like a rotten pollack, so of course the teacher is terrified.”

“I don’t want to smile.”

“Tsk, tsk. You’re going to be terrible at social life, kid.”

A white-haired man had entered the room at some point, carrying a child on his shoulders and chuckling as he teased Si-ah.

Upon seeing Limon, Chun Su-ran hurriedly bowed her head.

“Welcome, Sword Lord.”

“Hey, Teacher Chun. You’re working hard because of our kids again.”

“N-not at all. If anything, I feel apologetic that my own shortcomings might be a burden to the children.”

“Shortcomings? You’re doing a great job looking after these troublemakers.”

“Ah, yes…”

Limon offered praise nonchalantly.

However, the reason Chun Su-ran could only manage an awkward expression was that the man before her was Limon Aspelder.

‘Why on earth did the Princess choose a man like this as a candidate for the Royal Son-in-law?’

Limon Aspelder.

He was the greatest and worst archenemy of the Seven Dragons Society.

Even a low-ranking member of the Black Dragon Clan like her knew his infamy well.

No matter how much times had changed, looking at him still filled her with a mixture of fear and loathing.

Treating such a man with the respect due to a candidate for the Royal Son-in-law was pure torture for her.

“Wow, it’s Grandpa Limon!”

“Grandpa, me too! Give me a ride too!”

“You brats, I told you to call me ‘Big Brother,’ not Grandpa!”

“Liar! Na-kyung said if someone has white hair and is old, they’re a grandpa!”

“That Yuna Gyeong… Fine, then! Taste the wrath of a grandpa!”

“Whoa! Grandpa’s mad!”

The children swarmed Limon.

Watching Limon play with them so naturally, Chun Su-ran wore a complicated expression.

It felt as out of place as seeing a machine gun draped with laundry or a demon attending a psychology lecture.

Ignoring her discomfort, Limon caught a crying child and reached out to Si-ah while changing the kid’s diaper.

“Dead-fish eyes, bring me a fresh diaper.”

“Here.”

“The kid looks hungry. A bottle, too.”

“Here.”

“The rattle this one likes is…”

“Right here.”

It was a demonstration of perfect coordination.

Before Limon could even finish his sentences, Si-ah provided exactly what was needed.

Limon changed the diaper, fed the bottle, and shook the rattle.

After they calmed a child who usually wouldn’t stop crying for at least one hour, Limon smirked at Si-ah.

“Not bad.”

“It’s what I’ve always done.”

“You seemed pretty clumsy a few days ago, though.”

“That was because I didn’t know where everything was.”

Si-ah’s answer was clipped.

It was beyond dry; it sounded as if her emotions had completely withered away.

But Limon didn’t pay much mind to her mood.

He simply asked questions while continuing to play with the children.

“Anything you’re lacking?”

“No.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. I can tell you’re worried about the kids’ schooling.”

For once, Si-ah didn’t reply immediately and remained silent.

It was true.

Among the children from the orphanage, there were elementary, middle, and high schoolers.

Having lost their home and been forced to take a hiatus from school after the kidnapping and rescue, education was a pressing concern.

Limon chuckled at her silence and turned his gaze to Chun Su-ran.

“Teacher Chun, what about the thing I asked for?”

“The textbooks are ready. However, I believe we’ll need a few more days to assign a dedicated tutor to each child.”

“Huh? Did I ask for dedicated tutors too?”

Limon tilted his head.

Chun Su-ran spoke firmly, drawing on her expertise in childcare.

“The children’s learning progress varies significantly, so I took the liberty of deciding that. The educational needs differ greatly by age group, especially when they are young.”

“Is that so?”

“…Yes.”

Chun Su-ran’s shoulders slumped immediately.

She had acted on her professional conviction, but she suddenly feared Limon might reprimand her for doing something he hadn’t ordered.

“Hmm… Then please do that. I don’t really know how kids are taught these days.”

Fortunately, Limon didn’t blame her.

Instead, he nodded and delegated full authority to her.

While a relieved Chun Su-ran offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Great Black Dragon God Lord, Limon turned back to Si-ah.

“Well? With this, your studies shouldn’t be an issue for a while, right?”

“…”

Si-ah remained silent again.

“Not an issue” was an understatement.

Assigning a dedicated tutor to every single child?

For kids from an orphanage who had never even been to a decent after-school academy, let alone had private tutors, this was an unimaginable luxury.

That was why Si-ah stared at Limon for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Limon…”

“…What’s with that title?”

“You told the kids to call you ‘Big Brother,’ so I thought ‘Older Brother’ would be appropriate for me.”

“Could you maybe use a different title?”

“Should I call you ‘Sir’?”

“Just call me ‘Uncle’…”

“Yes, Uncle Limon.”

It was a victory for her persistence.

Having secured the title of “Uncle” from a man who was currently massaging his temples, Si-ah asked calmly.

“Uncle Limon, why are you being so nice to us?”

No matter if she called him uncle, they were essentially strangers.

He was in a position where he could easily turn his back and ignore them.

In fact, most adults were like that.

Even Chun Su-ran, the head of this facility, was only caring for them because it was her job; it was obvious she secretly disliked them.

So, why was Limon helping them?

Limon’s answer to Si-ah’s question, which held more suspicion than curiosity, was simple.

“Because this is what Na-kyung would have done.”

The moment she heard that name, Si-ah’s eyes, previously as dull as spoiled oysters, flickered with a brief spark of life.

But it was fleeting.

As if they had never wavered, her eyes sank back into a heavy gloom as she spoke quietly so the other children wouldn’t hear.

“You aren’t Na-kyung.”

“I’m not.”

“And she’s already dead.”

“I know.”

Limon affirmed calmly.

Even as she recalled Yuna Gyeong’s death, which felt all the more cruel in its finality, Si-ah did not grieve.

She merely continued in a low voice.

“If you know that, please don’t say such useless things.”

“What’s useless?”

“Giving us false hope.”

To the children of Hanbit Orphanage, Yuna Gyeong wasn’t just some kind volunteer.

She was their most reliable family.

She was the future they could become.

She was the dream they didn’t have to abandon.

Her very existence was hope.

That was why Si-ah understood.

She knew what it meant for Limon to say he was acting in her stead, and she knew how much hope that fact would give the other children.

Because she knew it so well, she rejected it.

Limon narrowed his eyes as he looked at the girl.

“I can’t do that?”

“No, you can’t,” Si-ah said flatly.

She looked directly into Limon’s golden eyes and said in a hollow voice, “Losing something you’ve been given is worse than never having it at all.”

Delicious meals and spacious beds.

A good education and plenty of leisure time.

On top of that, a sturdy guardian like Limon.

Life at the Leviathan was certainly abundant.

It was so abundant that she couldn’t fathom the depth of despair they would feel if they lost it all.

If it were just her, it wouldn’t matter.

She expected nothing anymore, so she wouldn’t be disappointed.

But the other children were different.

If the hope Limon gave them disappeared… they would be deeply scarred.

So, if it was going to vanish eventually anyway, she was telling him not to give them hope in the first place.

Limon smirked as he watched the girl speak so coldly.

“There’s a lot I want to argue with… but let me ask just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Why are you so certain that the hope I give will eventually disappear?”

Limon was confident.

Whether she said cheap sympathy fades quickly, or that he would eventually die like Yuna Gyeong, he was prepared to answer.

He wasn’t looking after the children out of mere pity, and he had no intention of dying.

He was the strongest Sword Master who had lived through countless ages, Limon Aspelder.

Therefore, after Si-ah opened her mouth, Limon’s smiling face froze.

“Because you’re unemployed and jobless, Uncle.”

“…”

“Plus, you’re a rebel and a criminal.”

She was asking how they could have hope in someone who was a pauper with no income and who might be arrested at any moment.

Looking at Si-ah, who spoke as coldly as if she were scrutinizing the face and assets of a blind date, Limon remained silent for a long time.

He asked awkwardly, “…Where did you hear that?”

“On the news.”

“Does the news advertise that I’m unemployed now?”

“No, I figured that out because a grown adult is playing with kids in the middle of the day.”

“Your intuition is annoyingly sharp.”

“Na-kyung told me that for an orphan to survive in this world, sharp intuition is a must.”

‘Did she forget to mention you need a filter on your mouth too?’

Limon swallowed the question.

He shouldn’t have expected much.

There was no way Yuna Gyeong, who always said everything she wanted to say, would have taught such a lesson.

‘Ugh, why did I take a person like that as my subordinate…?’

He felt a brief moment of skepticism about the chaos he had caused to pay back Yuna Gyeong’s Blood Debt.

Limon let out a sigh and scratched his cheek.

“Look, it’s true I’m currently unemployed and a rebel, but my innocence will be proven soon, and I’m planning to get a job.”

“Every criminal and unemployed person says that.”

“…Do you really not believe me?”

“Because there’s no reason to.”

“Hmm, a reason to believe.”

This was what people meant when they said something wouldn’t even make a dent.

Limon crossed his arms as he looked at Si-ah, who declared her distrust without a single tremor.

Then, as if he had thought of something, a strange smile played on his lips.

“If my treason charges are cleared, will you try having some hope then?”

Si-ah paused.

She couldn’t grasp Limon’s intention.

Even as a child, she knew it was impossible for his crimes—taking the President hostage—to simply vanish.

“Then I might consider the possibility of you replacing Na-kyung.”

Her voice was utterly devoid of soul.

It was a reply that clearly showed she didn’t believe his words would come true for even a second.

“Don’t forget those words.”

Satisfied with that answer, Limon wore a meaningful smile.

He then turned to Chun Su-ran, who had been listening to their conversation with a complicated expression.

“Teacher Chun, can we watch TV for a bit?”

“TV, you say?”

“Yeah.”

Chun Su-ran looked puzzled by the sudden request, and Si-ah didn’t hide her suspicious gaze.

To the two of them, Limon spoke playfully.

“There’s going to be some pretty interesting news today.”