Perhaps due to the gentle and tranquil dream he had just experienced, Oswald's frustration seemed momentarily suppressed, leaving him exceptionally patient.
What a shame that Kevin doesn't notice.
Oswald is unsure why he fell into such a deep sleep, without any intention of waking up. He found himself listening to the sound of the rainstorm outside the corridor for quite some time before finally straightening up and entering the study.
Kevin rested his face on his left arm, with his right hand placed on the open code. A stack of parchment was pressed under the code, with a pen resting on the edge. The tip of the pen had smudged several spots of ink on the paper, creating quite a mess.
Oswald squinted at Kevin for a moment before reaching out to remove his hand from the code and set it aside, revealing the paper underneath. As expected, not a single word had been copied. However, the paper was not blank; it contained various illustrations.
His Excellency Kevin Fassbender sat in the solemn study room, using Emperor Jingui's pen to draw a series of monsters and ghosts on the fine parchment.
Oswald had been fortunate enough to witness Kevin's artistic skills a few times in the past. With his remarkable imagination and understanding of Kevin, he could discern that the paper contained drawings of mountain rabbits fatter than pigs and giant armors uglier than bastards. Additionally, there were sea turtles, lions with foolish bear-like faces, plucked vultures, and chicken-like black eagles.
Adjacent to these drawings was a large cross, vividly expressing the idea that beasts were inferior. Oswald remained silent, as this complaint was most likely directed at him. After all, it was practically impossible for anyone to copy the code a hundred times properly.
He continued to observe Kevin and angrily pulled out the piece of parchment, intending to write "read it, add penalty" with a pen. However, he noticed that Kevin had also drawn something on the lower part of the parchment. It appeared to be a human face, with one eye drawn large and the other small, resulting in a highly asymmetrical appearance. In the center, there was a nose with a jagged line. Next to it were a bunch of messy vertical lines, possibly indicating modifications or shading for the nose.
There was also a barely discernible, extremely ugly mouth beneath the shadows. Oswald stared at the paper for a moment, eventually distinguishing the outlines of a tree and a table in the background. However, the overall style of the artwork remained unsettling and difficult to process.
The combination of these elements triggered a sudden recollection in Oswald's mind. After pondering for a moment, his face darkened instantly.
Knocking his knuckles forcefully on the table, Oswald exclaimed, "Tap! Tuck! Tuck!"
"Huh?" Kevin snorted, frowned, and opened his eyes with a sleepy and vacant expression.
"What are you drawing?" Oswald tapped the paper.
"Hmm..." Kevin fell back onto his arm once more, closing his eyes and mumbling in response.
"The Parsons' backyard."
Oswald leaned closer to hear what Kevin had said. He couldn't believe it; this ancestor not only remembered moments when he could be beaten by merely a raised hand, but he also felt the need to draw it. Since the painting depicted the backyard of Parsons Manor, it was evident who the ghost-like figure represented.
Oswald remained speechless as memories of the dream he had just experienced resurfaced in his mind. He recalled what he had said upon seeing this ancestor for the first time, and he almost wished to go back and retract his words.
Like a fart! If you don't dislike it, there will be ghosts.
"Get up!" Oswald knocked on the table once more.
Kevin furrowed his brows and waved his hand, answering vaguely, "I'll discuss it later, I'm too sleepy."
Oswald furrowed his brow. "Do you have the final say, or do I?"
This time, Kevin didn't even bother to wave his hand, remaining silent.
"Hey—" Oswald stared at him for a while, contemplating whether to call again. However, he noticed that Kevin's breathing had become steady once more, indicating that he had indeed fallen back asleep. Yet, the furrowed brows persisted, conveying a weariness that didn't match his usual self.
Snapping his fingers, Oswald had a nagging feeling that something was amiss.