Chapter 3: City Park

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Early Autunm, 1921 (Aurelian Standard), City Park

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The cool autumn breeze slipped through the gaps between the trees, rustling the leaves that had begun to turn yellow. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the high branches, casting flickering shadows on the stone pathway. In the distance, the chirping of birds blended with the low hum of conversations from the townspeople sitting on park benches.

After feeling that I had put enough distance between myself and that state bond officer, I finally opened my eyes again.

It seemed I had already guessed where this country was heading—a new regime aggressively urging its citizens to buy bonds?

It was obvious. The Erzregen was militarizing his kingdom. Whether this would have a positive or negative impact, we would see in the future. In several radio broadcasts, the Erzregen had spoken about how the previous king was highly incompetent in governing the nation.

No wonder the military sided with Erzregen to lead the country.

Paul strolled leisurely along the park's main path, his eyes sweeping over the scenery around us. Stone statues stood proudly at various corners, symbolizing the glory of past leaders. The central fountain glistened under the golden evening light, while children ran around, giggling as they splashed in the gently cascading water.

"Oh, looks like the Capital Park has been restored," Paul murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Even though the Royalist resistance wasn't very significant when we marched into the capital, a battle is still a battle."

Inge, walking beside him, glanced at him with a disapproving look. "Paul, please don't talk about battles near your daughter…"

Paul chuckled. "Haha, alright. Still, it was my first battle."

A first battle, huh? I could somewhat understand his feelings—it was something he would remember for the rest of his life.

Paul's steps remained unhurried along the leaf-strewn path. But in the midst of this tranquility, suddenly—

Thud!

"Ah… I'm sorry! I wasn't watching the road!"

I turned toward the voice. A woman stood there, her face panicked as she held a small boy close to her chest. The boy had just bumped into Paul, now blinking in confusion while his mother's face turned pale. Her gaze instantly fixated on Paul's uniform, and from her expression, I could already guess what she was thinking.

She was afraid…

Paul simply adjusted his grip on me to steady himself, then raised a calm hand. "It's alright, ma'am. It's no big deal."

But the woman remained tense. Her body was rigid, her hands clutching her child tightly, as if Paul were some beast ready to pounce on them at any moment. The people around us began to glance over, some even subtly stepping away.

I could feel the awkward, tense atmosphere settling in. The fear directed at Paul wasn't personal—it was for his uniform. A uniform that symbolized power, authority… and, of course, violence.

I glanced at Inge, wondering if she noticed.

She did.

"We should be the ones apologizing," Inge said, her voice softer than usual. "We were too absorbed in our walk and might have blocked your way."

The woman quickly nodded, though I could see the hesitation in her eyes.

Then, suddenly, Inge let out a small sigh and rubbed her neck lightly. "Ah, walking around the city has made me thirsty."

I blinked. Thirsty? Now?

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Thirsty?"

"Yes. Could you get me something to drink?" Inge said before he could ask further. "I think I saw a small shop near the park entrance."

I started to understand what Inge was doing. She was deliberately sending Paul away to ease the tension.

Paul hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Hah… alright, alright. If there's a shop nearby, I'll be back soon."

He looked at me briefly, then carefully passed me into Inge's arms. The transfer was seamless, without a fuss.

As Paul walked away, the atmosphere relaxed slightly. I glanced at the young woman—she still looked uncomfortable, but at least she wasn't as stiff as before.

"Sorry if my husband startled you," Inge said kindly, her voice warm yet reassuring.

The woman still seemed a little tense, but I could see her shoulders slowly relaxing. My mother's social skills at work—calm, confident, and without pressure.

It didn't take long before she accepted Inge's invitation to sit on the grass with us. Inge casually spread out a cloth, settling me down on it, while the woman did the same, letting her son sit in her lap.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Inge said, gazing at the blue sky above.

The woman followed her gaze slightly. "Yes… autumn winds always feel nice," she replied, her tone more relaxed than before.

I could tell she was beginning to feel comfortable, though some wariness lingered in her eyes—especially when she occasionally glanced in the direction Paul had walked off.

"Don't overthink it," Inge continued, brushing the hem of her skirt lightly. "My husband may seem a little… rigid, especially in uniform. But trust me, he's a good man."

The woman offered a small smile. "Haha, I'll remember that…"

Her eyes softened slightly, though I could still detect a hint of skepticism. It wasn't just Paul she doubted—it was everyone involved in the new regime. Yet, she also seemed unwilling to judge too quickly.

Moments passed in comfortable silence. Her son, started playing with the grass near his feet, while I simply observed from across the cloth.

"By the way," Inge eventually said, her tone lighter, "I feel like we should introduce ourselves before chatting further."

The woman raised an eyebrow slightly, then smiled shyly. "Ah, you're right… My name is Elke. Elke Kranz," she said, glancing at her son. "And this is my son, Wilhelm."

I noticed the way Elke said her son's name—with tenderness but also a trace of concern. I wondered if she was just an overprotective mother or if there was another reason behind her expression.

"That's a lovely name," Inge commented with a smile. "I'm Inge, and this is my daughter, Erina."

Elke looked at me for a moment, then offered a small smile. I just stared back with a neutral expression.

"Oh, can your son walk yet?" Inge asked, breaking the silence with a curious tone.

Elke nodded proudly. "Yes, he started walking when he was eight months old."

Inge raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. "Oh? Isn't that quite early? That's amazing!"

Elke let out a small laugh, her face showing a hint of shyness but also clear joy at the compliment. "Haha, thank you. How about your daughter, Mrs. Inge?"

Inge shook her head with a warm smile. "Oh, just call me Inge. No need to be so formal."

Elke gave a small smile and nodded. The conversation seemed to be easing up, and as I had expected, the topic quickly shifted to their children's development.

"Well, Erina is… unique," Inge said, glancing at me briefly.

"...Unique?" Elke looked at me with a puzzled expression, clearly unsure how to respond.

Seriously, Mom? What kind of mother calls her child "unique" in front of others? Look, even Elke looks confused!

Inge chuckled softly, as if completely unaware that her words had just caused confusion.

"Yes, unique," she repeated, gazing at me with a meaningful smile. "Erina is different from other children her age. She's not fussy, rarely ever cries, and spends most of her time quietly observing her surroundings. In fact, she almost never reacts the way normal babies do."

Elke frowned slightly, then looked at me again, this time more carefully. "I see," she murmured, seeming to be in thought.

I simply stared back at her with a blank expression.

Inge continued, "Sometimes, I feel like I'm raising a little girl who understands far more than she should. For example, there were moments when I expected her to cry, but instead, she just stared at me with a look..." Inge paused for a moment, then laughed. "How should I put it? Like someone analyzing the situation, rather than a baby seeking attention."

Elke now looked even more intrigued. "That… does sound unusual," she said, occasionally glancing at her son, who was busy playing nearby.

"Right? That's why I say she's unique," Inge said with a small sigh, though her tone was filled with affection. "But well, maybe it's just a mother's feelings."

Elke gave a small smile. "Maybe. Or maybe Erina really is special."

I held myself back from sighing. If only they knew the truth...

No matter what, it's incredibly difficult to act like a baby when you have the full consciousness of an adult from a past life. I have no idea what kind of strange being put me in this bizarre situation.

Even compared to the many absurd situations I faced back when I was in the military—being caught in an artillery barrage with no escape route, surviving for days in a foxhole with dwindling supplies, or even engaging in close-quarters combat with enemies mere steps away—none of that was as incomprehensible as this.

Being a baby with the mind of an adult? That's beyond logic.

I don't know who or what is responsible for all this, and honestly, I'm starting to doubt whether I even want to find out.

But on the other hand... I can't ignore the fact that I'm still alive. That I've been given a second chance, for whatever reas—

Ack!

"Wilhelm! Stop that!"

Just as I was lost in thought, a sharp pain shot through my scalp. My hair was yanked back roughly. Damn, that hurts! I nearly jolted in response, but this tiny body was too weak to react quickly.

My eyes immediately darted toward the culprit, who was now staring at me with bright, innocent eyes. Wilhelm, that little boy, had somehow crawled closer and was now enthusiastically grabbing a handful of my hair as if he had just discovered a new toy.

And he wasn't letting go—in fact, he was pulling even harder! My god, are babies really this strong?!

"I should have been watching him more closely, I'm so sorry!" Elke's panicked voice rang out as she hurriedly pried her son's grip off my hair.

Oh, wait… why is my vision getting blurry?

"Eh? She's crying?" Inge, instead of panicking, sounded both surprised and amused.

Eh? I'm crying?

I felt my cheeks grow wet, and the moment I realized it, the embarrassment hit even harder. Okay, sure, that yank really hurt, but crying because of it? This is completely ruining my dignity! I'm a war veteran, for God knows where, and now I'm crying over a one-year-old?!

Inge's laughter only grew louder. "This is the first time I've seen her cry since she was born." She then turned to Wilhelm with a cheerful expression. "Wilhelm, congratulations! You're the first person to make Erina cry!"

As if that wasn't humiliating enough, she even gave Wilhelm a thumbs-up, as if it were some kind of achievement worth celebrating.

Wilhelm, the little troublemaker, just tilted his head at Inge for a moment before suddenly giggling and attempting to crawl toward me again.

NO, STAY AWAY FROM ME!

Eventually, Elke managed to hold back her overly enthusiastic son, and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. This was truly an experience I—hopefully—would never have to endure again anytime soon.

The conversation between Elke and Inge soon resumed smoothly. What had initially been somewhat awkward now flowed naturally, shifting to the usual topics women seemed to enjoy—celebrity scandals, fashion trends in magazines, and light gossip about high society in the capital.

Elke, who had seemed nervous and reserved at first, now appeared much more comfortable. Her smiles were more relaxed, and the way she spoke became more confident. It was as if the walls she had built around herself were slowly crumbling, allowing her true personality to shine through.

Paul eventually returned, but instead of joining the conversation, he hesitated for a moment, looking confused by the newfound closeness between the two women. His expression was awkward, and in the end, he chose to sit on a park bench a short distance away, merely observing us from afar with an unreadable look.

The conversation between Inge and Elke continued until they finally realized that the day was growing late. The atmosphere in the park gradually shifted, the once-bright sky now painted with deepening shades of orange.

Realizing how late it had gotten, they began preparing to leave. Paul, who had been silently watching from afar with the look of a man on the verge of depression, finally got up and walked over to help.

"Thank you, that was truly a lovely conversation. See you again, Elke," Inge said with a warm smile.

Elke nodded with a gentle expression. "Ah, no need to thank me. I felt the same way. See you again."

And just like that, my first time going outside came to an end. A far better experience than simply being stuck in boredom inside the house all day.

* * *

"Are you sure you're not forgetting anything?"

"Don't worry, I've checked everything multiple times."

It had been a week since the so-called "tragedy" at the capital's park—and don't ask why I called a tragedy. The important thing was that today, Paul—more specifically, my father—was leaving for the frontlines to assist in the southern conflict.

Even though victory for the Nationalists was nearly guaranteed, a battle was still a battle. The value of a life at stake never became any cheaper just because the outcome was predictable.

Inge, now holding me tightly in her arms, was clearly weighed down with noworry. The way she looked at her husband betrayed the unease eating away at her heart.

"...Please come back safely."

Paul gave a faint smile. "Of course. Even if I'm willing to die for my country, still… watching Erina grow up is my greatest wish."

Inge bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally sighing. "I know, but—"

Oh! Paul really knows how to handle women. Without letting his wife finish her sentence, he pulled her closer and kissed her.

Inge froze. Her eyes widened before slowly fluttering shut, as if surrendering to the sincerity hidden behind his impulsive act.

...Oops, kids shouldn't be seeing this. Alright, time to pretend to be asleep!

"You're so unfair…"

Through the small gap in my nearly closed eyes, I could still see my mother's face turning as red as a ripe pomegranate, while Paul smirked in satisfaction at her reaction—stealing a small victory before heading to war.

And finally, after a dramatic farewell, Paul turned and began walking away.

I watched his back. His steps were steady, his posture firm—like a soldier fully accepting whatever awaited him ahead.

Seeing him like this… for some reason, my chest felt tight.

A familiar feeling.

Nostalgia.