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The purpose of coming to the Fellow Estate was solely for an incomplete vacation.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to mindlessly roast myself in the hot spring, watch the livestock in the pastures, stroll through the garden, and soak in the phytoncides in the forest?

But Karem had one task left to accomplish.

He needed to assess the current status of the Fellow Estate.

For that, he had to check the ledgers.

To do that, he needed to get out of bed, but… there was one obstacle preventing him.

Karem slightly lifted his head.

In the flickering candlelight, he caught a glimpse of blissfully cool skin under the covers, framed by soft, thin blonde hair.

He had no particularly serious thoughts.

“You look dead to the world.”

A cat-like face, slightly pudgy, visible faintly outside the blanket, was shaded from three nights of fatigue.

“…What’s this?”

“Did I wake you up?”

Catherine mumbled with a half-asleep voice, nodding weakly.

“I couldn’t sleep… thought I’d check the ledgers I put off. But it seems you’re sleeping so soundly I almost feel guilty waking you up.”

“…Is that something the one who made me like this should say?”

“Did I go a bit overboard?”

“Augh… my back. I clearly told you to stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

Catherine bowed her head and then weakly leaned into Karem’s chest.

“I think this should help a bit.”

With a soft poke of his hand, Karem quickly channeled divine magic into her waist.

Cure. The basic spell he learned first.

A spell to heal wounds and relieve pain.

“Huuuuah…”

A pale light seeped out from under the blanket.

Accompanied by a warmth like being wrapped in soft, fluffy snow, Catherine’s moans began to fade away.

“How does it feel?”

“…Mmm. This is definitely nice.”

“Sleep well.”

“Just a little… more… Huuuh-”

As the pain subsided, fatigue crept back in, and a yawn of undeniable drowsiness escaped from Catherine’s lips.

Karem used Cure again and gently stroked Catherine’s side until she fell completely asleep.

*

“So what’s all this?”

“It’s the income and expenditure records and property status of the Fellow Estate.”

“So, the ledgers.”

“Still a long way to go!”

When you say ledgers, isn’t it usually a few thick books?

Maybe he should have stayed in bed. It was so cool and soft…

Karem was momentarily tempted to ignore it all and return to bed.

After all, every time Nascha came and went, she left behind a stack of papers half his height, to the point where he couldn’t even see the stove.

Karem enjoyed cooking but didn’t particularly like working.

Let alone the paperwork he was bored to death with in his past life. Anyone born and raised in the modern world was bound to the chains of document programs.

Despite Karem’s true feelings, Nascha cheerfully brought over piles of estate documents, but Karem was not pleased.

Even with the papers stacked high on the desk, more were piling up around it.

Truly, a tower of documents.

Castle walls made of parchment.

You might wonder how there could be so many documents, but Karem understood.

Unlike electronic data, paper is physical, and as it stacks up, it takes up considerable volume.

Not to mention, this wasn’t just A4 paper, but parchment.

It was said that in ancient times, people died buried under their books.

However, Karem realized that the growing wall of documents stacking up around the desk had reasons different from just the parchment as a recording medium.

“A retired adventurer named Owen the Third, the owner of the pastures renting to Baishton, has demanded thirty schillings for repairs after a duel with a nearby village’s stablemaster, Agnes, turned the pasture into a mess, but the ranch’s cattle are having issues—”

He roughly grasped the content.

This was closer to a diary than a ledger.

His mind sank into despair.

Karem closed the closest document he picked up. Nascha, having set down the last pile, surveyed the city of papers.

“Is all of this about the same matter?”

“…Is there a problem?”

Karem barely restrained himself from saying that there was nothing but problems.

In a land of one-eyed people, two-eyed folks were considered abnormal.

He had seen such documents every day in Coldon.

It wasn’t tempting to revise them.

Sure, they were uncomfortable to look at, but that was all. Everyone used them without discomfort, and Catherine herself had completed that mountain of novel-like documents before bed at one point.

However, now it seemed it might be necessary.

There was no grand reason for it.

Simply put, Karem didn’t have the same mechanical efficiency in handling affairs that Catherine did.

Thus, Karem decided to become a temporary human document program before going through the documents.

“Contractor comrade! I’ve brought the writing instruments and some vile black liquid that siphons all the world’s woes!”

“What… hold on, the world’s what?”

“I brought honey and sugar just in case.”

The powers of the demigod of electronic civilization may seem complex at a glance, but ultimately, they could all be achieved by human hands as well.

Karem laid out a grid on the parchment and made tables, meticulously recording only the essential information in the necessary order, creating new templates as needed.

With just half the paperwork of a Kikimora condensed into a thin notebook, he felt the need to later instruct the Kikimoras on this, but that was a thought for another time.

“I did it myself, but it’s quite astonishing.”

It’s said that in ancient China, at least five carts of books must be read by boys.

However, there’s one trap here.

In ancient China, bamboo slips were used instead of paper as a recording medium.

This was called a “bamboo book,” and simply switching the recording medium from bamboo slips to paper would compress volume equivalent to five volumes of books.

A true revolution in recording!

Starting from the oldest income and expenditure record condensed into a thin notebook, the wall of parchment succumbed helplessly to the essence of modern civilization—tables.

Some might call it civilization.

Knock, knock—

Before he could respond to the knock, the door swung open.

Fresh air rushed in. Mary stood there.

“Mary? What brings you here?”

“It’s breakfast time.”

“Oh, is it already that time?”

As he looked out the window and set down his quill, he saw Mary leaning against the door, arms crossed, her drowsy eyes fixed on him.

“Shouldn’t we head to the restaurant?”

“I think you should head to your bedroom.”

“My bedroom?”

“It seems our contractor can’t wake up because of you, Karem.”

Karem felt a twinge of silent reproach in Mary’s raised eyebrow, as he naturally averted his gaze.

“Seems you’re aware of how embarrassing this is.”

“Could you remove that leering gaze?”

At her words, Mary tilted her head to one side, covering her mouth for effect.

“Leering? How could you say something so hurtful—”

“Anyway. To the bedroom!”

As Mary shrugged and walked ahead, Karem followed her out of the study.

And that’s when Karem realized why Mary had said that.

‘…Did you forget the soundproofing magic?’

The Kikimoras were dusting off statues, sweeping the floor, cleaning the ceiling, and pruning the street trees visible through the window.

Unlike before, they were not smiling brightly, but looking curiously, unable to contain their curiosity, yet lacking the courage to ask directly, they would glance over then hurriedly return to their work whenever their gazes met.

But as they turned away, Karem felt their piercing stares again.

“Isn’t it because you’ve made history?”

Mary raised an eyebrow, as if questioning why it wouldn’t be obvious.

“Who would have thought that two clumsy folks who blushed at holding hands would advance this fast? Even Titania would be impressed by your speed.”

“Let’s keep the flattery to a minimum.”

“If I don’t, what could Karem junior possibly do?”

“Well, I can’t do much.”

“See?!”

“But what does Catherine think about this?”

“Oh my goodness.”

Mary, taken aback, smacked her own mouth silent as if to prevent her lips from betraying her.

“Bad mouth! Bad mouth! Trying to steal a house fairy’s work and thrust an unwanted vacation upon me!”

“It’s pretty bold of the one with that mouth to say that…?”

“Oh, look, breakfast is ready.”

Though she could’ve prattled on, Karem was drawn in by the tempting aroma coming from the cart pushed in by the Kikimora leader, Nascha.

The baked beans were out, replaced by a plate filled with pancakes, bacon, sausage, black pudding, sautéed mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and fried eggs.

It was about 80-90% of a model English breakfast, complete with a kettle of butter and light emerald honey along with two or three sets of tableware.

“Nascha prepared this in advance at Brownie’s request.”

With those words, Karem silently stared at Mary.

“Is there something you want to say to me?”

“Other than wishing you a good time, nothing much comes to mind. You Kikimora, kindly excuse us for the contractor’s sake.”

The playful banter that flowed between them worked well in this situation, and Karem found it genuinely amusing.

‘…Anyways, I am kind of hungry.’

Karem shook his head and pushed the cart toward the bedroom door.

The large two-person bed. Catherine was buried deeply under the covers as if she were dead, with only her head poking out. She still looked worn out.

“Are you still sleeping? Breakfast is here.”

“…Breakfast.”

“You’re awake then. How’s your back feeling?”

“…Am I okay?”

Catherine, with fatigue clearly etched in her voice, seemed incredulous as she trembled and propped herself against the head of the bed.

The blanket slipped slightly, exposing her milky white collarbone.

A sight that sparked the imagination, Karem quickly shifted his gaze back to the cart.

Underneath, there were juices and milk, it seemed.

“Do I look okay to you?”

“Nope. You look like a fainting fawn.”

“…Are you making fun of me?”

“I’m sorry.”

Karem quickly buried his head in the pile of blankets as Catherine’s eyes gleamed in response to his thoughtless outburst.

“…Well, I’ll let that slide for now. Be careful. I’m warning you.”

“Thank you.”

“Ugh… my back…”

As Catherine held back sounds of pain while struggling with discomfort in her back, Karem, feeling quite guilty, began serving food.

As he tipped the glass, light emerald honey flowed out like a stretched strand of melted emerald, pouring over a pancake slathered in butter.

As Catherine, who had been lying limp, slightly opened her eyes, Karem quickly fed her a bite-sized piece of pancake.

“Mmm. This is definitely what I had yesterday.”

“Yep. It might be a bit overly sweet for breakfast, but it seems like you needed it.”

It clearly suited her well, as her drained face started to regain vitality, and the fatigue seemed to be fading noticeably.

“Want some more?”

“…I used to think it was too sweet, but given my state, I find myself craving it.”

“Looks like it. The effect is really good.”

“Ugh… it seeps into my body…”

Catherine devoured the pancakes he offered, her interest immediately shifting to bacon, sausage, and black pudding as soon as she regained a little strength.

“We were just talking about organizing the ledgers.”

“Yes. Now that it’s my land and mansion, I thought I’d check the situation. Wow, the state of those documents is genuinely unbelievable.”

“It was the same when I last saw it.”

Memories of her shrinking away in disgust while casually examining the documents made Karem chuckle a little.

“You’ll have a bit of a struggle getting a handle on it.”

“That’s why I was creating forms and sorting it out.”

“Huh? What do you mean by forms?”

“Well… hold on.”

With a piece of the emerald-glimmering pancake still in Catherine’s mouth, Karem set down the tableware and drew a grid over the blanket she was covered with.

The creases of the blanket formed a faint shape, and as Karem continued his explanation, the mental fatigue and pleasure that had been sprawled out began to spring back full of vigor with the power of sugar.

“A table? Wait, do you mean that…?”

“Hmm… maybe I should’ve said it faster.”

“Wait. So you didn’t mention that you actually knew about that… table format?”

“I thought Catherine was already sufficient on her own.”

“You sneaky little—ugh.”

In a moment of anger, Catherine reached out from under the blanket and grabbed Karem by his collar, only to lose her strength halfway.

As she strained, clutching her back silently in agony, Karem quickly slid his hand into the blanket.

As he slowly stroked her soft, firm belly, he cast Cure.

With the pale light trapped under the blanket, her anger began to subside.

“I’m sorry, but considering the amount and speed of your work, I really think it wasn’t necessary!”

“…If only I had that… two winters ago, that blasted ordeal… that dreaded task of dependability… AAH!”

As Catherine writhed for a while until the pain in her back eased, Karem cautiously resumed taking care of her.

Though she was angry for not mentioning such an ingenious format earlier, she felt relief thinking it was better late than never.

‘The parchment guild is going to be in chaos. And the leather guild too.’

A batch of bundles could be compressed into a single sheet of parchment, and if the one who developed this format was an ordinary commoner or even less than that, extreme cases could arise.

Furthermore, the ease of use meant that errors could be discovered easily too.

Thus, until this format is fully settled in, it would threaten countless families, businesses, and individuals under the guise of scrutiny.

…Is that really something I need to worry about?

“Alright then, let’s not dwell on troublesome matters anymore.”

Karem held out the last piece of pancake, lewdly dripping with sugary, emerald nectar, to Catherine, who glared at him sulkily, before she ate it.

“Who made me think up that troublesome thing, then?”

“Anyway, while drawing up the forms is annoying, it’s definitely much better than those novel- or letter-like things—ah, wait.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Oh, you’ve got honey on your lips. Just a moment. Napkin… nowhere to be found?”

Going to find a napkin likely meant it would drip onto the blankets right away.

With no choice but to wipe it with his fingers, the strange sensation of his fingers brushing against her lips provoked a soft response from Catherine, and she opened her mouth lightly, asking a subtle question.

Crunch-crunch—

“…”

“Uh… Catherine?”

The sturdy pressure of her teeth gently nibbling at the first joint of his finger.

The moist warmth of her tongue grazed his fingers, leaving an impression that sent chills down his spine.

With a teasing yet subtle expression, Catherine bit down hard again on the fingertips that had previously been rough and dented.

“Oh, you still have some honey left on your face.”

“Who would—”

His weary eyes glimmered with a flash of excitement.

“Your back still hurts.”

“…Are you going to make it hurt?”

“No.”

Catherine’s hand reached for Karem’s collar, pulling it towards her with all her might.

Though she was much weaker than a newly hatched chick, Karem felt inexplicably unable to resist.

In truth, he didn’t resist at all.

Catherine had not forgotten the soundproofing magic this time.

 

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