I Don't Know the Original, I'm Too Busy Trying to Make a Living-Chapter 199

Penelope pulled a potion from her pocket. Ahwin had handed it to her before retreating to his room for some much-needed rest.

Gulp, gulp.

As the potion slid down her throat, a refreshing sensation spread through her body.

[Your HP has been restored by 95%.]

She swore she could hear a divine voice of blessing in her mind. Of course, it was just her imagination.

With her strength replenished, she finally felt alive again. Penelope sat upright on the sofa. Though her movements were still sluggish, she felt far more energetic than moments before.

Lecter, standing nearby, discreetly placed his report on her desk and took a step back.

"You seem exhausted. I’ll save my report for later."

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"When do you think we can start receiving orders?"

"The irons should take less time than we initially thought. We’re planning to begin full-scale production next week."

Penelope’s eyes widened.

"That soon?"

"The basic principle isn’t much different from a soldering tool, so only a few adjustments to the process are needed."

I see.

If production began next week, the items could go on sale as early as next month. Penelope felt a deep sense of admiration.

"Are all Tower alumni geniuses?"

"There are plenty of geniuses who aren’t from the Tower," Lecter replied, staring at her intently. Penelope, oblivious to his gaze, let out a yawn. Even after drinking the potion, she felt oddly compelled to yawn.

‘This must be mental exhaustion.’

The weight of staying up all night seemed to have taken a toll on her mind, even if her body felt fine. Her brain was refusing to acknowledge the potion’s effects.

‘This feels similar to last time.’

She had experienced something like this when Ahwin had started handing her recovery potions daily to build her stamina.

‘Shouldn’t mental clarity follow once physical fatigue is gone? This feels like a serious efficiency issue for potions.’

As Penelope became lost in thought, Lecter took a step back and spoke.

"Then I’ll take my leave. I’ll return another time."

"Aren’t you going to see Ahwin? Oh, right, he’s probably asleep by now."

"It’s fine. Ahwin tends to find us bothersome anyway."

"..."

Was that a self-deprecating joke?

Lecter’s casual admission of the fact left Penelope unsure how to respond. True to his nature as a mage, he continued the conversation without concern for her reaction.

"The prototypes for the iron and dryer are complete. I’ve left them with the manor’s servants."

"Really? The staff will be thrilled."

Penelope’s face lit up. Even after just the trial run, the manor’s staff couldn’t stop talking about the new inventions.

If she could hear about it even in passing, who knew how often they gushed over it in private?

"Well then, I’ll see myself out. By the way, if your brain experiences excessive overload, even recovery potions won’t help."

"...Of course, that makes sense."

"Still, since it’s a top-grade potion made by Ahwin himself, it’s probably helping in more ways than you realize."

Haha.

Penelope smiled wordlessly, suddenly feeling guilty for using such a high-grade potion as a mere fatigue remedy.

Lecter smirked meaningfully.

"Ahwin seems completely smitten with you, Penelope. I’ll leave him in your capable hands."

With that parting comment, Lecter exited ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the office.

Penelope pressed her palms against her suddenly warm cheeks, fanning herself reflexively. It was a relief Ahwin wasn’t around to witness this.

But moments later, there was another knock at the door.

‘Who else could it be? Pablo?’

She felt a twinge of curiosity before the visitor identified themselves.

"My lady, it’s Ivetta."

"Come in."

Ivetta entered the office, slightly out of breath. She looked as though she had hurried over in a rush, perhaps after oversleeping.

Her eyes were puffy, and her hair was disheveled.

‘She looks like she cried herself to sleep. Or is that just my imagination?’

Penelope held back from commenting, understanding that Ivetta must have her reasons.

‘Ah, right. She had a falling out with her mother. Of course, she’d be upset.’

Countess Corindel’s visit and subsequent outburst in the manor had happened not even a day ago.

Even if Ivetta wasn’t showing it outwardly, that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt.

‘I should have said something comforting. I was too thoughtless yesterday.’

Penelope mentally chastised herself. How could she have gone on a date with her boyfriend without sparing a second thought for her secretary? Though, in fairness, the "date" hadn’t exactly ended sweetly.

Blushing, Ivetta spoke up.

"I’m sorry, my lady. I should have come sooner. I heard there was a major incident in the territory last night."

"That’s mostly resolved now. I’m waiting on further reports, so let’s discuss it in detail when Sir Ralph arrives."

"Understood."

Penelope hesitated, glancing at Ivetta’s swollen eyes. The sight tugged at her heart, but she didn’t know how to offer comfort.

‘How am I supposed to console someone whose own mother tried to sell them off?’

The words just wouldn’t come.

‘And to make it worse, I have to tell her that Countess Corindel hasn’t given up on her schemes.’

Penelope’s expression darkened.

The Countess’s behavior yesterday had been appalling. Using the money she earned by trading her daughter’s future to gamble? The very thought made Penelope sick.

But how could she deliver that news to Ivetta? Even if Ivetta already suspected it, hearing it outright would be a different matter.

Before Penelope could figure out what to say, Ivetta spoke first.

"I’m truly sorry about yesterday. The more I think about it, the more I realize I caused you trouble."

"There’s no need to apologize. None of this is your fault."

"But it’s my parents’ fault."

"Ivetta, you and Countess Corindel are two separate individuals with your own lives. That’s how I see it. Children shouldn’t have to bear responsibility for their parents’ mistakes. If anything, it should be the other way around."

"...!"

Ivetta’s eyes trembled as if she had finally glimpsed a faint light at the end of a dark tunnel.

"Do you really... believe that?"

"Parents choose to have children, but children don’t get to choose their parents. If you’re fully independent now, the only thing you need to take responsibility for is your own choices."

Ivetta swallowed hard.

‘Take responsibility only for what I’ve chosen.’

She had spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep as the reality of her mother’s actions sank in. When the shock finally wore off, tears had come in a flood—tears of anger and sadness over her mother and gratitude for Penelope.

Eventually, she had fallen asleep at dawn.

And while she slept, a major incident had unfolded in the territory.

‘To think I slept through something so important. I’m a failure as a secretary. What must Penelope think of me?’

Before knocking on the door, Ivetta had been filled with self-loathing.

But Penelope had comforted her instead.

"I don’t know how I can ever repay this kindness..."

"You seem fond of talking about repayment. All you need to do is say thank you. Now repeat after me: Thank you."

"...Thank you, truly."

"Good. And for the record, I’m always grateful to have such a capable secretary."

For the first time, Ivetta’s face brightened. Penelope smiled.

"Now, how about breakfast? Though I’d suggest a shower first."

"...! I’ll freshen up right away!"

Flustered, Ivetta glanced at her reflection and quickly left the office.

‘I never did tell her about the Countess.’

Penelope sighed, swallowing the lingering unease. She couldn’t bear to bring it up now, not when Ivetta had just started to feel better.

There was another way to handle this.

‘I’ll assign her a personal guard. If the Countess tries anything, we’ll deal with it immediately.’

That settled, Penelope yawned. Though her body wasn’t tired, it seemed like the perfect time for a nap.