Please Forget Me - Chapter 159

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

No matter what excuse we tried to offer, their persistence in inviting us left me with fewer reasons to refuse, making it increasingly difficult to avoid. We shouldn’t be getting deeply involved with these people, but after reluctantly accepting the invitation once, it now seemed like a trap that was going to drag us in.

Johann seemed to have the same thought, his expression becoming more subdued. However, he too seemed to have realized that there was no way to avoid it now and decided to stop refusing.

“Then I’ll send the invitation soon…”

Mrs. Hildebrandt said with a satisfied expression, taking a sip of her drink. Then, she proudly unfolded a piece of paper she had brought in earlier and looked at it.

“Thomas has been working hard on his writing practice lately, saying that the award from the Prime Minister is for him.”

It turned out that there was an upcoming writing competition at the school, hosted by the government, with the Prime Minister’s Public Relations Office directly selecting the winners.

“Sounds like something the kids would be eager to challenge themselves with.”

The prize would include a certificate signed by the Prime Minister, and the grand prize would be a college recommendation letter written by the Prime Minister himself.

“So the graduating students are especially excited.”

Mrs. Hildebrandt joked in response to Johann’s words.

“Then, we should tell Thomas to let the graduating students have the grand prize.”

“Tell him to give up all the prizes.”

His response made Mrs. Hildebrandt pause mid-sip and glance at him with a puzzled look. But it seemed the child’s father wasn’t joking.

“Why do you think the Public Relations Office is giving such a big prize to rural students? It’s to appease the local residents. All the prizes are going to go to the students from here, so don’t expect anything for him.”

“How can you say such a thing? You’ll dampen their enthusiasm for learning.”

“It would be difficult if the students heard that.”

Johann replied calmly, as though he had already understood the purpose of the competition.

“That kid might actually say something like that.”

It seemed that the General wasn’t likely to become the kind of attentive father we might have imagined. Johann and I shared a bitter smile, and Mrs. Hildebrandt shot her husband a side-eye before clearing her throat and holding up Thomas’s composition for us to see.

“Anyway, I’ll read it, so listen to this. The title is ‘My Dream.’ My father is a general. When I grow up, I want to be like my father...”

At first, it seemed like the theme of the writing competition was about future aspirations, but as the story continued…

“I’ll become a strong and brave soldier and defend our country, defeating the Falklanders. I’ll offer the Falklands to the Prime Minister and the Emperor, so please wait.”

As I listened more closely, it seemed to be a patriotic theme.

“The Falklanders are demons, so I’ll kill them all. Then, I’ll turn our land into a paradise, free of demons. After that…”

Perhaps because he was still a younger student, the writing lacked sophistication, coming across as direct and crude, without any flowery language or subtlety.

“Here’s a drawing too. Pretty good, right?”

Mrs. Hildebrandt eagerly presented the paper to her husband.

“Quite well done.”

As she turned the paper to show us, I couldn’t help but flinch.

The child’s drawing was quite disturbing.

The devil with horns on its head was presumably a Falklander, and the person holding a knife to cut off the devil’s head and limbs had ‘me’ written across their chest. The drawing even included blood spurting like a fountain. Looking at it, the child’s parents beamed with pride.

Is this really okay? But seeing that the parents weren’t disturbed, my own shock quickly faded.

“Nice drawing. Thomas has a talent for art.”

“A soldier with a talent for drawing. What’s the use of that?”

“You have many talents yourself. It’s not a bad thing.”

“That’s true. A handsome, strong soldier who also draws well would be even more impressive.”

I joined in, trying to smooth things over. In any case, it was clear the parents didn’t mind their son being praised. The father smiled as he read through the composition again.

“‘I will give the Falklands to the Prime Minister and the Emperor.’ Ambitious, I like it.”

“Our Thomas should grow up and end the war for us…”

“Well, that means we’ll have to fight until he grows up. I should end it before then.”

I don’t care who ends it, just please…

“I hope the war ends soon.”

I said, sighing as I raised my glass, and Mrs. Hildebrandt, filling her own empty glass with whiskey, empathized with me.

“I miss the old days. I want to go home as soon as possible.”

I don’t remember home, so I don’t feel nostalgic, but I longed for the peaceful days from last year when war felt like a distant concern.

“If we could just get out of here, I would have no more wishes.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. It didn’t feel like something I should say in front of these people. As expected, the general’s gaze turned cold, but Mrs. Hildebrandt filled my glass with more whiskey herself.

“I feel the same way.”

“Hmm…”

The General cleared his throat and began talking about how promising the situation on the front lines was. He spoke as if the war would be over soon. But he never actually gave a concrete answer that it would end.

“Recently, one of my clever subordinates came up with a pretty brilliant strategy. Everyone was opposed, saying it was too risky, but in these dire times, you have to take bold risks, so I pushed for it.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, in the northwest front, they wiped out an entire enemy unit in a single day.”

“One unit, in one day?”

Both Mrs. Hildebrandt and I were taken aback.

“Those cowardly bastards couldn’t even spare time to bury their fallen comrades—they just left them behind and retreated with their tails between their legs.”

The general curled his lips around his cigar and grinned.