All I Wanted Was Affection and Donations from the Beautiful Girls Who Left the Orphanage... sobs - 02 [Leon's Perspective]

Chapter 02 [Leon’s Perspective]

― Let’s go back in time.

It was a time when Leon never even dreamed of participating in a parade. He was supposed to be having a peaceful day…

☆

It’s Leon here. 

Back in Japan in my previous life, the most exciting―no, shocking thing a girl said to me was “You’re disgusting, like a sewer rat!”

Thank you for the match. 

Suddenly, though… are you all excited?

“It’s interesting, the hands of a clock. The minute and hour hands overlap approximately every hour. They overlap every hour, but never at eleven. The hour hand just manages to escape. They meet again at twelve, when the bell tolls.

Before the bell rings, there are unrewarded times.

Times that are overlooked. 

Me? Of course, I’ve had such times, and I think everyone does.

Everyone has their ‘eleven o’clock’ in life.

But it’s okay. 

The hands of the clock will inevitably meet.

So, everyone, take on your challenges HAHAHA!”

In the orphanage’s office, stamping documents, I ruminate over these triumphant words.

A hard ten years…

Ah, it’s been long. 

Having experienced the poorest times, the current situation where I can live off donations from talented and beautiful girls is deeply moving. 

As I was deeply immersed in sentimentality,

“Please.”

Along with a comforting scent, tea was offered. Following the arm with my eyes, I see beautiful hands like the first snow—my solace, Hibiki-san. 

She is the matron of the orphanage. 

Originally, she was the senior person in charge of this orphanage.

Every feature on her face is first-class. I want to lick it all over. No, I mean, I want to kiss her passionately. 

Oh no, whenever I see Hibiki-san’s face, I lose all reason. 

Do your job properly, you insect! (But I shouldn’t say that out loud!)

She’s tall with a model’s physique, but what really stands out are her breasts. They’re huge. Too huge. What does one eat to grow like that? 

I want to bury my face in that cleavage, to be enveloped and return to childhood, crying out like a baby.

I want to distort those enchanting hills while shouting like the little girls in the orphanage, “Mommy!”, “Mama!”, “Hibiki-oneechan!”

“Oh dear, you’re drooling.”

Lost in my blissful fantasy, I apparently let drool escape my mouth, and Hibiki-san is wiping it with a handkerchief.

Her face, so close, is perfection. 

Wow, her eyelashes are so long and beautifully curled. So cute! Yes, cute! There, I admit it. Hibiki-san is my favorite. She’s the one for me.

It’s okay to push her down, right? Of course, I’m not really asking.

As my mind turns completely pink, Hibiki-san gazes steadily into my eyes.

Ah, this must be love.

In my previous life, with eyes like a Chihuahua’s, I was told to stop having “dead fish eyes.” But in this life, it seems my eyes attract beauties.

“Look. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. I know it’s presumptuous of me to say this, given that I’ve left you in charge of the office—but please, get some rest. Otherwise, the children who’ve left the home will be sad.”

Hibiki-san said this with an apologetic look, her eyes cast down.

Yeah, I should propose. An older sister figure who genuinely worries and cares about me. That’s nice. Yes!

It seems Hibiki-san is daunted by the mountain of paperwork piled up in the office.

She’s mistakenly created this image of me as a director, tirelessly working late into the night, without realizing that in reality, I’m just hastily approving documents without properly checking their content.

You might wonder, is it okay not to check the contents?

Well, that’s what novices think.

Not to brag, but this orphanage has attracted some really talented girls.

I realized their potential and decided to focus solely on nurturing them, profit be damned.

I planned to leech off their rare talents, relying on their donations to support me.

Little did I know, these girls would successfully leave the home and donate amounts far exceeding what I had initially schemed, to the point of almost dropping my jaw in shock. 

That part remains a secret. With such a background, I was able to hire an excellent maid and secretary, Celeste-san. Any document she has checked already bears my signature.

Celeste-san, who was bought from a slave trader, cannot betray me. If she does anything harmful to me or the orphanage, the slave mark would lead her to death.

Though, I trust her implicitly and could remove the slave mark, she once said, “Leon-sama gets excited by the master-servant relationship, so it’s better this way.” 

Is she a masochist?

Essentially, my value now is just to silently stamp documents in my office. The dark circles under my eyes? Sorry, they’re just a natural part of me.

Usually, if there’s something concerning in the documents, Celeste-san has already checked it. 

There are often notes like, “For this purpose, we should do this and that. The reason is—The plan is—.” 

I confirm these with an appreciation for my talented maid and secretary, Celeste-san, and her big butt, and before I know it, the day’s work is done.

Yet, both Celeste-san and Hibiki-san thank me for my hard work at the end of the day. Is this heaven?

Now, the important thing here is not to get carried away. 

Shockingly, among the girls who have left the home, some have become key figures in the capital city, like a “Sword Saint,” “Princess,” “Great Merchant,” “Bestselling Author,” “Saintess,” “Creator Alchemist,” “Great Archmage.” 

These geniuses emerging from a boring, nowhere orphanage naturally brought a lot of attention to the director—me.

Some try to lure me out with medals and rewards, hoping to use my charisma for their purposes.

I could have increased my status or fame by playing along, but of course, I turned them all down! 

Why? Well, I already receive more than enough in donations, and frankly, I don’t want to be targeted by jealousy.

Oh, speaking of which, didn’t the “Sword Saint,” who made it as a royal guard, say something about wanting to be my personal bodyguard?

So, to avoid jealousy, I used to say things like, “My hands are full with just this small orphanage,” as a shield to keep myself as detached from the worldly affairs as possible.

But then… “What a selfless person! Truly a saint, a great sage, and a father figure to the Holy Maiden!” These kinds of rumors started to spread. Ahaha, that’s hilarious!

I was just raising little girls into the kind of women I like and receiving donations from them after they’ve grown, like chicks, and they call me a “Saint” and a “Great Sage.” 

Anyway, the moment I thought about proposing to Hibiki-san,

― Bang!‼︎

“Sewer ra—I mean, Leon-sama! A letter has arrived from the capital city by dragon mail! May I ask you to receive it?”

Celeste-san, who had just returned from an errand, came into the office, out of breath.

… But wait, didn’t she almost call me a sewer rat just now? 

It’s not just in my previous life, but in this life too? Leon’s struggling.

But, hang on, dragon mail to this remote countryside? 

Just to deliver a letter? 

No, no, no!

In this world, postal services usually rely on carrier pigeons summoned by conjurers, or at best, griffin mail.

Dragon riders, who can control flying dragons, are in scarce supply compared to the demand, making them a valuable asset. 

Sending a letter by dragon mail… who’s this bourgeois?

“Understood. I’ll go get it.”

“Please hurry! There are five dragon mails waiting, and the other dragons can’t land because of the congestion!”

“What!? Five dragons in this tiny territory!? Are they crazy!?”

Could it be something urgent? It’s not normal to send letters via dragon mail to such a remote place. 

Could something have happened to my dear students? 

I have a bad feeling about this.

At that moment, I had no idea that this was the ominous countdown to the end of my peaceful, parasitic life.