NOVEL NEXT Chapter 77
Clack!
When the small case next to the book was opened, a single baby tooth lay inside, accompanied by a small note:
“My beloved son’s first tooth.”Every item in the box had a note attached:
“The first clothes my precious son wore…”“Heman’s favorite toy…”
Even the letters he had sent his mother and his childhood toys were there, alongside a test sheet from the first time he scored a perfect 100.
Many of the items had grown hazy in Heman’s memory, but each one bore a note filled with love and nostalgia.
“I thought she threw all of this away…”
He hadn’t expected it. To think his mother had kept all these worn and aged items.
As Heman stood staring blankly into the box, his eyes fell upon something he hadn’t noticed before.
Carved into one corner of the wooden box were the words:
“My First Treasure.”“……”
Heman couldn’t speak for a long time.
He simply read the short inscription over and over again.
****
[…….]
“Is there something on my face?”
[You said things would change.]
“……”
[You said my son would change once he understood my love.]
The orphanage director’s spirit looked at Camilla with an expression of slight resentment.
Her request had been simple: to deliver the box hidden in her private space to her son. It contained items her son had cherished as a child, a collection she believed would make him understand the love she hadn’t been able to express.
Camilla had tasked Dormand and the grim reaper Havel with retrieving the box and had fabricated a story about the director entrusting her with it before passing.
She had delivered it directly to Hemann.
And yet…
“Couldn’t we get cheaper ingredients?”
“Cut down on expenses!”
“Why purchase such frivolous items? Just because the children like it? Do you think we have money to spare?”
Nothing had changed.
Hemann continued to harp on frugality, nitpicking every decision made under his management.
[Haa.]
The spirit of the director sighed deeply, struggling with the thought of leaving the orphanage in her son’s hands.
“How much do you really know about your son?”
[What?]
“Just watch.”
[What are you talking about?]
“Keep watching him.”
Though confused, the director could only tilt her head at Camilla, whose calm smile was oddly reassuring.
****
Da-da-da—THUD!
“Waaah!”
A little boy, around six years old, tripped and fell forward. His shoelaces had come undone, tangling his feet.
Heman happened to be walking by and paused to look at the child.
“……”
The boy, tears welling up, gazed up at Hemann with hope. Surely, just as the other teachers always did, he would help him up, wipe his tears, and comfort him.
But Hemann did nothing. He didn’t help the boy up or offer any words of encouragement.
Nor did he walk away.
He simply stood there, watching the boy silently.
Eventually, the child wiped his own tears and stood up on his own.
Step.
It was only then that Hemann approached.
Swoosh.
Hemann crouched down and untied his own perfectly secured shoelaces. Slowly, deliberately, he began to retie them, repeating the action several times.
The boy stared at him, puzzled.
What is he doing?
Without a word, Hemann continued, his movements slow and methodical.
Minutes passed.
“I want to try!”
The boy, who had been watching intently, finally dropped to the ground and grabbed his untied laces.
But for all his enthusiasm, his small hands fumbled clumsily.
Hemann didn’t offer to help. Instead, he untied his own laces again, repeating the process even more slowly.
“Wow! I did it!”
Finally, after much effort, the boy managed to tie his laces. The bow was sloppy, but it held.
“I can tie my shoes now!”
The boy beamed with pride, admiring his handiwork. Only then did Hemann leave, without saying a single word.
[Hemann.]
The director, who had watched the entire scene unfold, gazed at her son with a complex expression.
****
“This was on his desk?”
“Yes.”
Dorman and Havel returned not only with the director’s box but with something else as well.
Camilla had instructed them to retrieve anything that could be used as leverage against Hemann—just in case she needed to resort to blackmail to force him to relinquish his position.
After all, the director’s primary concern was the welfare of the orphanage and its children.
What they brought back was a thick stack of documents.
“Hmm?”
Camilla scanned the papers and soon let out a chuckle.
“This woman… she really doesn’t know her son at all.”
The documents were plans. Detailed outlines of how Hemann intended to manage the orphanage moving forward.
“Does he even hate this place?”
“If he did, wouldn’t he have passed it off to someone else?”
“Exactly.”
In hindsight, it didn’t make sense. If he truly despised the orphanage, why take on the responsibility himself?
“Huh.”
The plans emphasized frugality and cost-cutting measures, but they were also careful to preserve the children’s essential needs.
Hemann had slashed unnecessary expenditures with ruthless efficiency, but Camilla found his reasoning sound.
“Put these back.”
“Understood.”
After finishing her review, she instructed Dorman to return the documents to Hemann’s desk.
A week later, the director’s spirit approached Camilla once again, this time with a warm smile.
[You were right.]
“Hmm?”
[My son has his own way of doing things.]
Having observed Hemann without possessing the teddy bear for a week, the director now seemed satisfied.
He wasn’t like her—he didn’t openly shower the children with affection. But he clearly understood what they needed.
[Thank you.]
The director bowed deeply, her gratitude evident. Then, turning to Havel, she spoke softly:
[I’m sorry for causing trouble.]
“You must leave immediately.”
[Yes.]
Without hesitation, the director nodded. She turned back to Camilla, offering a final smile.
[Please continue taking care of the children.]
“…What?”
[Then, I’ll take my leave.]
“Wait a minute—!”
Why is she leaving the kids to me?!
Despite Camilla’s protest, the director simply smiled and vanished.
Havel, too, departed without another word, leaving Camilla staring at the empty space they had occupied.
Sigh.
Camilla let out a long sigh.
“Dorman.”
“Yes, Miss Camilla?”
“That guy… he’s not your superior, is he?”
“…Pardon?”
“He’s way too polite to you. Even used honorifics a couple of times.”
“My superior is just… exceptionally courteous—”
“……”
“…I apologize.”
Dorman lowered his head under Camilla’s piercing glare.
Click.
Clicking her tongue, Camilla looked back at the spot where Havel had disappeared.
“Guess I won’t be seeing him again.”
That’s what mattered. The spirit had been sent off peacefully.
Or so she thought.
“Who are you?”
“Havel.”
“I didn’t ask for your name! Why are you here again?”
“There’s another spirit refusing to listen to me.”
“…And?”
“I’m asking for your assistance once more.”
“……”
“Wait—don’t take off your shoes! Let’s talk this out!”