The Man Who Remained — His Second Life Began with a Humble Bow of Apology. - Chapter 99: A Parent and Child Who Cannot Bear Each Other’s Existence (Part One).

A Parent and Child Who Cannot Bear Each Other’s Existence (Part One).

A truly wealthy household isn’t merely large.

Size is a given—but beyond that, there’s something else. A kind of dignity, or refinement… no, something more intangible, something words struggle to capture.

That’s what Cross thought as he looked upon the Unyou family estate before him.

…Although, in the end, Cross—who never quite understood things like “refinement”—could only honestly summarize his impression as: “Damn, that’s a big house.”

“…It’s huge. Your house,” he muttered, standing before what felt more like a fortress gate than a front entrance.

“You think so?” Unyou responded.

“Of course it is. It’s three times the size of a normal house—maybe five if you count the garden.”

“Huh. Well… yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it is big.”

“Obviously. Still, I guess when you live somewhere long enough, it just feels normal after a while.”

“I don’t live here,” Unyou said casually. “This is the first time I’ve come back in… maybe ten years?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s been that long…”

“Huh. So, what—this little family visit of yours ties into that whole ‘thing you’re trying to do,’ huh?”

“…I’ll explain later. For now, just come with me. …Actually, that’s not right. We’re still outside the gates. You could still turn back. So maybe I should say this instead—if you leave now, you won’t get dragged into something dangerous because of my idiotic circumstances. Think about it.”

Cross waved his hand dismissively, cutting him off.

“I am an idiot, and I’m fine with that. If a friend’s asking for help and I hesitate just because I’m scared—then yeah, I’d rather stay a fool and live my life foolishly, but on my own terms.”

And he meant it. Deeply.

After all, this was his second life—no, his second existence. He’d decided long ago that he’d live it boldly, selfishly, unashamedly.

That was the vow Cross made the moment he was reborn as a demon.

“…Sorry about all this. Once it’s over, let’s share a good drink. My treat.”

“Sounds good. Though, Unyou… you got the money for that?”

Cross grinned as he spoke, and Unyou pulled out his wallet.

It was empty.

They looked at the barren wallet, then at each other—and burst into loud, uninhibited laughter.

As Unyou approached the gate, he prepared to knock or announce himself.

But before he could, a young woman behind the gate spotted him—and shouted with disbelief.

“Young master!? Is that really you!?”

With long hair flowing behind her, she flung open the entrance and rushed toward him, nearly hysterical.

“Yeah, long time no see. Mind if I come in?”

Unyou’s tone was brusque, almost indifferent. But the woman nodded repeatedly with visible relief.

“Of course, sir! This is your home, after all! Please wait just a moment!”

Then, quite suddenly… her neck stretched.

“Whoa!”

Cross involuntarily yelped, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The woman’s neck writhed and extended, her head flying off toward the house—it was a bizarre, unsettling sight, even for someone like Cross.

“…Huh. What was her name again?” Unyou said casually. “Can’t recall. But we’ve had attendants like her since I was a kid—ones who instinctively drop their disguises and use just their heads when they panic.”

“Huh. Didn’t know there were demons like that. First time seeing one.”

“She’s apparently native to Hourai. …Ah, there she is.”

The woman returned, retracting her neck with a slithering sound until she stood in her human form again. She smiled warmly and gestured toward the entrance.

“Welcome back, young master. And your companion is…?”

“He’s a friend.”

At that, her expression darkened slightly.

“Forgive me, sir, but even as the young master, I cannot permit those without proper clearance to enter…”

Unyou’s mood instantly soured. With open disgust, he spat on the pristine floor.

“Useless tradition… Though, I guess it’s not your fault. Don’t worry—he’s got the credentials. I vouch for him.”

“Still…”

“Say one more word and it becomes your responsibility. He outranks not just me, but anyone in this house.”

“Please, sir, that’s quite a joke—”

“Swear it on your title as Gate Captain. And don’t tell me you’ve never heard the name Cross.”

The woman fell silent. A moment later, she stepped aside, bowing deeply.

“My apologies, Lord Cross. Please, come inside.”

Unyou said nothing in return. He simply walked through the now-open gate.

“Cross. Come on.”

“A-ah, right. Wait up!”

Confused but without hesitation, Cross chased after him.

“She really didn’t know who you were,” Unyou muttered as they walked down a wide stone path.

“Guess not?”

“Come on. If she knew the Demon King’s representative was here, she’d have lost her mind. But she didn’t even flinch. She shut up because of my name, not yours.”

“I mean… I’m not exactly famous.”

“You’re plenty famous. You’re the Demon King’s proxy, acting chief of the village, and equal in authority to all four Sacred Gate Captains. You’re the one who brought salvation to this village. Sure, the general public might not know your face, but this house? Not knowing you here? That’s a serious issue. She’ll be fired soon.”

“…This place that strict?”

“Brutally so. So much that I avoided coming back here.”

“Didn’t you avoid most places regardless?”

“…Fair point. Honestly, I prefer places like Suzaku Street. Clean, straightforward, and if there’s a problem, you solve it with your fists.”

Unyou laughed freely.

“You just like fighting.”

“That too!”

“Not something to brag about. Anyway… it’s a long walk.”

Cross glanced toward the estate’s main building—the likely destination.

It wasn’t out of view, but it looked comically small in the distance, like a speck.

It had to be at least ten kilometers away.

He initially thought the estate was five houses large. Ten was probably closer.

“Excessively big, yeah… Though there’s reasons for it.”

Cross nodded, glancing around.

There were gardens seemingly meant to be looked at and nothing more, koi ponds with unnaturally vibrant fish—red, white, and everything in between.

It was all foreign to him, but clearly refined. Clearly expensive.

Even if he didn’t get it, he could sense it was art.

“…If I ran here, I’d probably get scolded, huh.”

Staring at the distant entrance, Cross mumbled aloud.

Unyou looked genuinely surprised.

“…What? Was that weird to say?”

Cross asked, puzzled. Unyou shook his head, smiling.

“No, it’s just… I lived here as a kid, so maybe I’m numb to it, but I never thought of that. That’s a good one. You know what? Let’s run!”

He darted forward—only to be stopped by Cross grabbing his shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid. This isn’t the kind of place you mess around. You’ll kick gravel everywhere and ruin the perfectly arranged path.”

Unyou smirked.

“Thing is… I came back to destroy this house.”

“…What?”

Before Cross could ask for clarification, Unyou bolted, kicking up dust and scattering stones behind him.

“Hey! Wait—! Dammit!”

Cross clutched his hair, sighed with guilt, and then sprinted after him.

The guest room was silent.

Except…

…clack.
…clack.
…clack.

From outside, a strangely hollow, rhythmic sound kept echoing.

Cross wanted to ask what it was—or go check. But the atmosphere wouldn’t allow for casual questions.

The room had tatami mats, meticulously dressed servants, and high-grade tea and sweets. The kind of formal, tense air where important people met.

Cross didn’t understand the full context, but even he was sitting in seiza on a cushion, trying his best to look respectful.

Unyou, on the other hand, sat cross-legged—completely at ease.

He didn’t seem relaxed so much as defiant, deliberately ignoring the room’s formal tone.

Which only made the atmosphere colder.

Cross wasn’t sure of the details, but one thing was clear: Unyou had a strained relationship with his family.

Eventually, just as Cross’s legs started going numb, the sliding door opened.

In stepped a middle-aged man in formal kimono and hakama, a long sword at his waist.

True strength is hard to gauge, even for someone like Cross. But this time—it was obvious.

This man was far beyond him.

His posture was impeccable, his movements silent, his presence overwhelming despite showing no hostility.

Everything about him radiated refined lethality.

He was like Aura or Vaahl—on the other side of an uncrossable wall.

The man took his seat across the low table. A servant offered tea, bowed, and exited. Only the three of them remained.

His traditional attire was flawless—kimono, hakama, haori.

Every movement he made had grace. Just walking, kneeling, and meeting their eyes—each action was chillingly elegant.

He looked to be in his fifties, with neatly swept-back hair, the color faded to a mix of silver and gray. Human in appearance, with no horns or tail in sight.

And yet—there was nothing frail or elderly about him. His aura was sharp, his movements powerful.

Even if Cross stood now, weapon drawn and fully charged with magic, he knew he wouldn’t win.

This man wasn’t simply powerful.

He was someone who carried the resolve to fight at any moment.

Even as a mere outsider, Cross could feel it in every fiber of his being:

This man’s life was one defined by unwavering discipline and readiness.

“…Those are good eyes. The eyes of a warrior—eyes that have fought countless battles and yet still endured through despair.”

The man said this suddenly, without warning.

Upon hearing it, Unyou’s expression shifted to one of complete surprise.

“Huh—Yes?”

“Honored guest… May I ask your name?”

At this, Cross quickly straightened into a formal seated posture and bowed his head politely.

“Ah, I’m Cross. Cross Necronia.”

“Indeed? The Cross-sama? I had no idea I was speaking to such a distinguished individual. I apologize for my earlier discourtesy.”

Saying this, the man bowed deeply—so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor before Cross.

“No, no… I’m not anyone important…”

“You are the emissary of the Demon King, and the savior of this village. If we cannot treat you with the utmost respect, then who could possibly deserve it? All of us village guardians owe you a profound debt of gratitude, Cross-sama.”

“Please, really, that’s a bit too much—”

“Cross doesn’t like being treated formally. You should know that by now, considering he hangs out with me. Use your head, would you?”

Unyou cut in, his voice cold as ice.

“…My apologies. Then, with your permission, may I treat you simply as a guest, acting out of goodwill? Is that acceptable to you, Cross-dono?”

Rather than addressing Unyou, the man turned to Cross as he spoke.

“Yes, please do. Actually—do you mind if I ask you something? There are a few things I’m curious about.”

“Of course. Ask anything you wish.”

“Alright, first… When you said ‘guest,’ you used the character for ‘human’—人—for the word ‘jin,’ right? Why that character?”

Cross had been taught by both his preschool and Ellie that using the character 人 when referring to themselves—or other beings like them—was considered bad manners.

The reason was simple: they were not human, but monsters. Using the character 人 in reference to monsters was often considered offensive. So Cross decided to ask the man directly about it.

“Ah… I see. Please forgive me. It is a foolish error, born of ignorance and clinging to outdated norms. We old folk are not always up to date with current customs. I do know of such etiquette, but… the manners I was taught differ slightly.”

The man spoke in an even tone, without expression.

Cross sensed it wasn’t that he was indifferent—rather, he seemed genuinely regretful, just not good at showing it on his face.

“No need to apologize. I’m not offended. Besides, I’m sure you already know—I was originally human. So you don’t need to worry. Call me whatever you like.”

Assuming the man already knew, Cross spoke the truth Aura had advised him not to share lightly.

The man nodded.

“I am grateful. My vocabulary is limited, and I fear I may still say something inappropriate, but if you’ll allow it, I shall speak freely.”

“Please do. I’m not asking to be picky—I just want to understand why you used the character 人, even though we’re monsters.”

“It’s not that I deliberately chose that character. In truth, we of Hōrai have little sense of ourselves as ‘monsters.’ The idea of defining ourselves as such only arose after we allied with the Demon King’s nation. Before that, we even had a different name.”

“Huh, really? So before then, how did you think of yourselves?”

“We called ourselves you or kai—spirits, anomalies. In those days, we referred to ourselves as youkai. We even counted our numbers as ‘one person, two persons,’ assuming ourselves to be something close to humans.”

“I see. Thank you. That’s very helpful. Mind if I ask a few more questions?”

The man gave a small nod—just barely a smile.

It was the first time Cross had seen him smile at all.

“Ask anything you like.”

“Thanks. So… what exactly is a village guardian?”

“…Has he told you nothing?”

The man turned and pointed at Unyou.

“Not a word.”

The man gave an exasperated look.

“…I see. Expecting anything else was my mistake. village guardian, as the name implies, are those who protect the village.”

“So they’re different from the gate guards?”

“Indeed. Unlike the gate guard corps, who serve openly under village head Gyokuran-sama, we serve in the shadows under the protector. We are a hidden group.”

“A hidden group?”

“Yes. We do not fight unless absolutely necessary. Even if we risk our lives in battle, we ask for no honor, and receive none. We live for our role and die for our role. You may think of us as the village’s hidden blade—that is who we are.”

“Hmm… I think I get it?”

Cross tilted his head, still a little unsure.

Unyou, watching this, burst out laughing.

“You’re still the worst at explaining things, huh? Cross, what he means is: village guardian are basically the final line of defense.”

“Oh, now that makes sense.”

Cross nodded in understanding, while the man’s face—still expressionless—twitched just slightly in exasperation.

“…Wait, are you guys… ninjas?”

Unyou looked surprised, and the man silently shook his head.

“No. We are indeed little spoken of, but we are not those fictional beings. They do not exist—we do.”

“…But I saw them. Not long ago. I saw a site where it looked like ninjas had acted.”

The man’s expression darkened slightly.

“…May I ask for more details?”

“Sure. Outside the city, a whole squad—armor and all—was found dead, standing upright. Not a single drop of blood spilled. None of the guards even moved. Just to check… that wasn’t you guys, was it?”

The man shook his head.

“No. As I said, we are village guardian. We do not leave the village. Our mission is to eliminate enemies within the walls, never outside. So no—that was not our doing.”

“…Then that means—”

“I always believed ninjas were nothing more than stories. But if someone like Cross-dono says they exist… then perhaps they do live in this village. There is still much even we do not know.”

The man nodded to himself, as if convinced.

If Hak had been present instead of Unyou, he would have immediately dismissed the idea. With his political insight and ability to connect information, Hak would have known the one responsible was Vahl.

But the one standing here now was Unyou—brute force incarnate, who solved everything with his fists.

Even though he should know better, should have known better, Unyou heard the conversation and honestly thought: “Whoa… ninjas are real?”

Very few know the truth, and fewer speak it.

Yet here, right now, stood the Demon King’s emissary, a top village guardian officer, and the chief gate guard of the Seiryuu Gate.

All three—Cross, the man, and Unyou—genuinely believed that the legendary shadow warriors protecting the kingdom, the ninja, were real… and no one corrected the misunderstanding.

“…Ninjas, huh? …Man, that’s kinda cool.”

Cross murmured.

The man gave a small nod.

“As one who also protects the village… to become such a legend, and yet remain unseen by all… there is much to learn from such discipline.”

He said it quietly, as if chastising himself.

“Totally different topic from ninjas, but… can I ask one last thing?”

“…If someone as tongue-tied as me can be of use, I would be honored.”

It didn’t sound like he was sulking because of Unyou’s earlier jab—it felt more like he genuinely regretted not being good with words.

“Um… may I ask your name?”

“…To have spoken with you for so long without introducing myself—how terribly rude of me. Forgive me. I am Sourin of the Kiryuu clan. I am a clumsy, small man with nothing but my swordsmanship to recommend me, but I serve as head of my family.”

He spoke humbly and offered a modest bow.

“…Ah. So you are father and son.”

Cross looked back and forth between Unyou and Sourin.

Sourin bore no horns, and neither his appearance nor his aura resembled Unyou’s in the slightest.

And yet, somehow, they still felt like family.

Hearing Cross’s words, both Unyou and Sourin turned to look at each other.

And then, simultaneously, they both gave each other a look of unmistakable and mutual disgust.