Chapter 02
“Daddy—!”
“Yeah, yeah, my daughter. Dad isn’t deaf. I hear you, Eve.”
“Dad, don’t make swords!”
“Alright, alright. Are you still in a lot of pain? Let’s drink another glass of milk and go to bed.”
“No, I said don’t make swords! If you make swords, you’ll die! Th—that thing, the iron—it eats your life force—w-wah!”
“Yes, yes, my daughter. Dad will definitely call a physician tomorrow.”
My dad muttered this while forcibly stuffing a sweet bun into my mouth.
Thanks to that, I had no choice but to chew on bread I didn’t even want.
Even after that, I didn’t give up and clung to him.
“Don’t make swords! Don’t make them!”
“Why is she like this again? My daughter, go outside and play. Dad is busy—”
My dad was a stubborn adult who didn’t even properly listen to the words of an eight-year-old.
In the end, I gave up trying to convince him and had to look for another method.
That method was—
‘Business disruption!’
After that, I secretly took the swords my dad worked so hard to make, went to the marketplace, and put on a performance.
“Waaah, why won’t the sword cut the potatoes—!”
“This time it won’t even cut ham!”
“Mr. Roiz!! There’s no way a sword made by him would be this defeeeective—!”
My sabotage worked, and the number of heroes requesting swords from my dad steadily decreased.
My dad would wipe away tears, completely unaware that I was behind it all.
‘Sorry, Dad.’
I want to live with you for a long, long time.
Thinking that, I dragged the Excalibur my dad had made me for my seventh birthday and quietly apologized on my way home.
……Poor Dad.
He probably never imagined it would be used like this when he made it for me.
“Sweetie.”
“Mm?”
“Why haven’t customers been coming lately?”
Gulp.
Ignoring my guilty conscience pricking at me, I swung a fly swatter at a buzzing fly.
Smack.
“Sweetie, tell me. Is Dad’s sword bad? Huh? Is Dad’s sword trash? Is that why people aren’t coming?”
“No, no, Dad’s sword isn’t bad. Dad’s swords are the best in the world.”
Yes, that part was true, Dad.
That was completely sincere. Because in the original novel, my father was described as “the world’s greatest weapon craftsman, Neil Roiz.”
So the reason no one was coming to request swords from my dad was entirely because of my behind-the-scenes interference, not his skill.
And of course, my dad knew that too.
Even though he now lived in this rural village, he used to travel to the capital and receive noble commissions when he was younger.
“…That can’t be! I am Neil Roiz! Huh? Even if no one in this tiny village recognizes me, my swords are the best in the world! Those fools can’t recognize the world’s greatest sword!”
My dad cried out, pulling at his unwashed, tangled hair.
I soothed him out of habit and smoothed his messy hair while leaning against his shoulder.
“Dad, don’t cry. Stop it. Even if our swords don’t sell, we can still live. We still have money from fixing that farmer Grover’s tools last time.”
“But selling a single sword makes more money than that! No, why aren’t the commissions coming in? These swords are amazing!”
“Exactly. Sigh… the swords my dad makes are amazing.”
……Sorry, Dad.
I did my best to comfort him.
My dad hugged me tightly, saying, “As expected, only my Eve understands me!”
At that moment—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell outside the workshop—hung at the entrance of the house—rang.
‘Who is it?’
We don’t really have anyone who visits… Don’t tell me it’s another foolish hero customer who hasn’t heard the rumor that my dad is a useless weapon craftsman?
My dad lifted his head reflexively, still sniffling.
“I-I’ll get it… I’m coming—”
His glasses were slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose.
I quickly fixed them for him, sat him back down, and said firmly,
“Dad! I’ll go!”
I had a bad feeling about this.
I strongly felt that some hero customers had come to make my poor dad suffer again.
Fortunately, my dad nodded without hesitation.
I hurried out of the workshop, went through the back of the house, and stood at the front door.
Click.
I opened the small keyhole and peeked outside.
Voices came from beyond the door.
“Are you seriously saying Neil Roiz lives in this rundown house?”
“I told you! My information is solid!”
Damn it, heroes!
I knew it. Something felt off.
I should’ve closed the back door. I looked toward it, regretting that I had left it open in my rush.
I was worried their voices might reach my dad in the workshop through the back door.
‘Dad won’t come out, right?’
But if I went to close it now, the heroes might decide to leave and come back another time.
And if they came back later and I wasn’t home—only Dad would be here.
That would be a disaster.
‘Sigh… it would be nice if I knew what the hero protagonist looked like.’
I knew this world was a novel, but unfortunately, I didn’t know the hero’s face.
So I had no choice but to reject every hero customer who came—since I didn’t know which of them would be the shameless ones causing my dad’s overwork death.
I sighed, hid my dad’s shoes carefully in the shoe cabinet, and placed two worn women’s shoes—borrowed from Aunt Hillary—clearly in view.
Then I flung the door open.
The heroes, assuming a grown man would answer, didn’t even look down.
Seeing no one at eye level, they finally lowered their gaze in confusion.
“…What the—just a kid?”
What the—what rude heroes?
Suppressing the urge to slam the door shut, I put on my most innocent expression.
“W-who are you?”
“This is Neil Roiz’s house, right? Are you perhaps Roiz’s daughter?”
Hahaha, I expected that question.
I shifted slightly so the women’s shoes were clearly visible, lowered my eyes, and spoke in my thinnest, most polite voice.
“N-Neil? No… I live with my mom.”
“…With your mom?”
“Yes… sob! I… I don’t have a dad!”
I don’t have a dad.
At my words, the heroes exchanged confused looks.
At that moment, from far inside the workshop, my dad’s voice rang out.
“Eve! Who is it? Why is it taking so long?”
Eek, this is bad.
The heroes also heard the voice from inside and looked down at me suspiciously.
“Wasn’t that a man’s voice just now…?”
“My mom’s voice is just… a bit hoarse.”
“Eve—! Sweetie!”
“…That’s definitely a man’s voice.”
“My mom has a cold! How can you say that about my mom? That’s very rude—sob!”
“Uh… hey, sorry about that.”
“Then please leave quickly!”
I squeezed out tears and pushed the heroes out the door, then slammed it shut.
At that exact moment, my dad opened the back door and walked into the house.
