Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 84

Chapter 84: The Child from the Pay-to-Win Parenting Game (1)

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Garrick had already heard about it long before he followed his mother to Dockshire.


His younger brother, Que Louis, was the child of Count Louis and an unidentified orphan girl from the distant East.


That girl later became Count Louis’s first wife. Of course, due to the disparity in their social statuses, their marriage had never been officially recognized by the Kingdom of Tuva.


This also applied to their child, who, according to Tuva’s laws, only held the right to be raised—not to inherit.

 

However, since the first wife had passed away many years ago and Count Louis had only this one child, if some leniency were granted beyond the law, Que Louis might still have a chance to inherit the title.


Even if he was born with a disability that made him unable to walk.

 

But since Count Louis had decided to marry into the Gruches family, both he and his twin brother had taken on the Louis surname. As the older and healthier legitimate son, Garrick believed the right to inherit the title should fall between him and his twin brother—not Que.

 

Although Tuva’s laws stipulated that the eldest son would inherit, who could say if the midwife hadn’t mixed up him and Dorian at birth?


Garrick had always believed that he was the older of the twins.

 

Before coming here, he hadn’t spared a thought for that frail, insignificant little brother.


After all, he posed no threat.

 

And indeed, that was true.

 

With a single glance, Garrick estimated the boy to be about fourteen years old, but his frame was so thin and small it could only be described as frail.


Noble children typically began learning to ride and shoot at the age of seven or eight, which spurred quick physical growth.

 

Garrick had been as tall as Que was now back when he was ten.


He even dared to bet that the long brocade pillow propped up on the bed might be taller than his little brother.

 

The carpet beneath them had turned a deep, wet blue, soaked by a steady stream of tears.


Garrick was genuinely puzzled. He’d been fairly polite and courteous upon entering the room.

 

He asked aloud, “Why are you crying?”

 

He even reached out in confusion, his palm catching a falling teardrop.

 

Drip, drip—

 

The tears landed in Garrick’s hand, pooling into a small puddle in the lines of his palm.


Crystal clear—it was all tears.

 

Was his little brother made of water?


Garrick thought blankly.

 

Shui Que’s mood had dropped below -10. He was in a terrible mood, shaking his head and refusing to answer. He believed Garrick was mocking him, so he directly swatted Garrick’s hand.

 

To be honest, it didn’t hurt. Garrick had simply been caught off guard.


The tiny pool of water in his hand was knocked away.

 

Garrick awkwardly withdrew his hand.

 

Even crying seemed to drain his little brother’s already weak body.


Sweat beaded on his forehead, his platinum hair damp and drooping gently. His face flushed red from the exertion, cheeks soft and tender. Teardrops slid down his pointed chin, his entire face streaked with water.

 

His shoulders trembled slightly, his pale skin nearly translucent under the golden sunlight.

 

A sudden swish drew Garrick’s attention as he turned—
It was his twin brother, Dorian.

 

Dorian had decisively pulled shut the thick velvet curtains.


The large bedroom fell into darkness once more.

 

Flames hissed to life. The white brass candle holders along the wall flickered with new light, and the manservant stood respectfully by the side.

 

Garrick turned to Dorian with dissatisfaction. “Dorian, what are you doing?”

 

The two of them looked exactly the same—golden hair, spirited features, prominent noses. Though not yet of age, there remained a hint of youthful elegance in their appearance.

 

Even their parents used to mix them up when they were little.


Perhaps because others so often confused them, they had grown to be quite different in personality and temperament as they matured.

 

Dorian wore a cotton shirt with tidy trim at the collar, tied neatly all the way to his neck—unlike Garrick, whose collar was left open, revealing his sun-kissed young body.

 

Dorian explained indifferently, “He’s sensitive to light.”

 

“How would you know that?”


Garrick glanced back in doubt.

 

Sure enough, Shui Que had stopped crying.


But the tip of his nose and his cheeks were still flushed, making him look especially pitiful.


Like a soaked chick after a storm.

 

[Current Mood Level: 4/10]

 

Even more pitiful was Guan He.

 

He had just started his livestream when a hundred Interstellar Coins vanished from his bank account.

 

【Old man, how are you so slow at entering a payment password? Can you even remember how to eat at this rate?!】


【Baby Shui Que’s crying is breaking my heart.】


【Old man, please turn on password-free payments.】

 

“Didn’t I pay a hundred Interstellar Coins to raise his mood by fifteen points?” Guan He didn’t even want to mention how blatantly pay-to-win this game was right from the start. But still, this was the first development character he’d drawn, and he was crying so pitifully—spending a little money was no big deal, even if it came out of the sponsored content budget.

 

So why had the system miscalculated?

 

Finally, a delayed text box floated up on the game screen— [Due to his stepbrother Garrick’s mocking behavior, your character Shui Que’s mood decreased by 1.]

 

That should’ve popped up two minutes ago.

 

After deducting eleven negative mood points, even spending a hundred Interstellar Coins had only brought him up to a mere four points.

 

Damn capitalism.

 

Dorian gave a concise answer to Garrick’s earlier question: “Father said so. You walk too fast.”

 

Garrick was known for his hurried steps and brash nature. That was precisely why Count Louis had also sent Dorian to check in.

 

No surprise there.


And yet, even a simple greeting to their new little brother had turned into this mess.

 

Garrick shrugged nonchalantly. “And you’re quick to change how you address him.”

 

He was mocking Dorian for how quickly—within just two days of the wedding—he had started calling Count Louis “Father.”

 

While the two of them were talking, a manservant stepped forward and bowed. “Good day, young master.”


“Please allow me to help you dress.”

 

He knelt beside the silk-covered bed, holding a pair of long stockings in his hand.

 

Lunch at the castle was about to be served. Shui Que couldn’t go down to the main hall wearing a long sleeping robe and barefoot.


That would be considered extremely disrespectful.


And before meals, there was always a routine pre-meal prayer. Wearing inappropriate clothes would be seen as a slight against the Holy Spirit.

 

Because of his mood stat, Shui Que had exhausted himself with all the crying.

 

But the male lead had definitely spent money—just now, he’d felt a warm current brush his forehead, and his overwhelming sorrow had vanished in an instant.

 

System 77 had said that the male lead’s spending would convert into “Soft Rice Points” at a 10:1 ratio.

 

Finally, Shui Que was able to catch his breath.

 

[Function Unlocked: Check Development Character’s Prestige and NPC Favorability]

 

Guan He followed the new system prompt:

 

[Character Prestige: 2400] [Source: 260 residents of the Louis Estate]


[NPC John the Butler Favorability: 40] [Impression: Reclusive Young Master]


[Please pay close attention to your character’s Prestige. Raising Prestige and NPC Favorability will benefit your character’s future growth and development.]

 

[Prestige and NPC Favorability can be improved by selecting options in the daily action point schedule such as greeting the NPC, enjoying afternoon tea with them, or helping them. More methods will be unlocked later…]


[Beginner Gift Pack 1: Ten Interstellar Coins to restore six action points for the day]


[Beginner Gift Pack 2: Three hundred Interstellar Coins for 365 consecutive in-game days, restoring six action points daily]


[Note: The number of days listed refers to in-game time]


[Note: Due to the negative traits of the character Que Louis being unable to walk and chronically ill, three action points will be automatically deducted daily after recovery]

 

Guan He: “…”

 

Was no one regulating this game?

 

[I watched other streamers play this game, and the cash-grab wasn’t this intense. With just thirty Interstellar Coins, they could cover an entire game week’s action points and raise the character to age twenty, with ten points automatically restored daily.]


[Streamer, do you think you might’ve fallen into some kind of pay-to-win beta trap…?]


[But—but Shui Que is so adorable. I feel like spending 300 Interstellar Coins to raise him for a year is already a bargain. I must be a foolish mama.]

 

Left with no choice—since he had taken a sponsorship deal and needed to complete at least one game cycle or it would be considered a breach of contract—Guan He reluctantly purchased the more cost-effective Beginner Gift Pack 2.

 

[Current Action Points: 3/10]

 

Probably because it was the beginning of the game, the list of available daily action choices was limited to just three:

 

[Get along well with an NPC, read the “Holy Book,” chat with Han’er (available only at night)]

 

Han’er was the username Guan He had entered at the start, also his streaming account name.

 

The player’s character was a low-ranking deity, considered a heretic. He had no followers, let alone any faith value, so his powers were feeble. At the beginning of the game, he could only engage in simple communication with the character he was raising late at night.

 

Guan He scheduled the action points in order.

 

[Please select the NPC you wish Shui Que to get along with]

 

Even though Guan He was only twenty-five, he had already taken on the mindset of a parent.

 

From what he could tell so far, this Garrick fellow had already clashed with Shui Que right at the beginning—not ideal for future brotherly relations.

 

Guan He selected Garrick’s name.

 

In the Divine Child’s game world, Shui Que was immersed completely. He could only see the three action tasks listed in the upper-left corner of his field of view and had no idea what the player’s real goal was. Only System 77 could cheat and leak information to him.

 

System 77: “Host, he wants you to get along with Garrick. Raising NPC favorability helps increase Prestige. But our character is a pay-to-win facade—you must make the protagonist increasingly frustrated with the game! If he wants you to raise NPC favorability, then you should secretly lower it!”

 

“As long as the protagonist keeps failing no matter how hard he tries, he’s bound to rant angrily about your character after finishing the game and accuse the developers of scamming players!”

 

Shui Que gave a subtle nod.

 

Got it.

 

The male servant John was kneeling, carefully helping Shui Que’s right foot into a long stocking.

 

While other noble boys around the same age in the Kingdom of Tuva grew up riding horses and hunting, developing sturdy calves, the young master of the Louis Manor had been born unable to walk. Even with regular massages from the servants, his legs remained unnaturally pale and thin by comparison.

 

John found himself distracted by the thought.

 

Shui Que lowered his head, wiped his face haphazardly, smearing away tears with his hand—still damp.

 

A strand of platinum blond hair clung to the corner of his eye.

 

To blend into the world better, System 77 had adjusted his hair color and reverted his body to its fourteen-year-old state.

 

Suddenly, he came up with a way to complete the action point task while also reducing the NPC’s favorability.

 

Lacking strength in his legs, Shui Que tugged on the rough linen of John’s shoulder.

 

It was a coarse, blended fabric—low-quality and scratchy to the touch.

 

“I don’t want you,” Shui Que said with pressed lips. “I want Leon.”

 

Leon had been Que Louis’s original personal servant, by his side since he was five.

 

Shui Que had entered the game world at the same time Guan He started playing, which meant he had only recently become the fourteen-year-old Que Louis. Before that, the world had been running automatically, all actions simulated by data.

 

After his entry, the past data had been converted into memory and uploaded into Shui Que’s mind.

 

John’s hand paused. “Young Master, have you forgotten? Leon left us permanently due to a terrible fever.”

 

Of course Shui Que knew.

 

In fact, because Count Louis had flatly refused to summon a priest from the Castro Diocese just to treat a mere servant, Que Louis had flown into a rage. During that time, Count Louis had brought home a new wife and two stepbrothers, and Que Louis had been sulking ever since.

 

Shui Que shook his head stubbornly and pushed at John’s shoulder. “Go away. I don’t want you.”

 

But with just ten points of strength, it did nothing to move John.

 

Still, as a servant, he didn’t dare defy his young master’s orders.

 

Garrick turned to Dorian and said, “So he can talk. I thought our little brother was mute.”

 

He didn’t bother to lower his voice.

 

The air froze.

 

Garrick looked back. Shui Que was staring at him unblinkingly, lifting a finger to command with a spoiled, high-handed tone, “You. Come here.”

 

His little face was taut, the corners of his eyes still red, yet he had the gall to order his elder stepbrother to do a servant’s job.

 

Garrick frowned.

 

Dorian, calmly enjoying the scene, said, “You made him cry.”

 

The implication was: if you’re not going to apologize, at least make it up to him.

 

Garrick, visibly impatient, walked over.

 

He knelt down, his left knee hitting the thick carpet with a dull thud.

 

It was early summer, but the stockings were made of fine wool—warm and insulating.

 

The foot was tiny, almost dazzlingly pale in the flickering candlelight.

 

Garrick thought his younger brother needed more time in the sun.

 

He pulled the stocking up to the knee and helped him put on his shoes—even though Garrick thought this step was entirely unnecessary.

 

Then he adjusted Shui Que’s long robe, naturally accepting the cobalt-blue cloak handed to him by servant John, and dressed his little brother with practiced ease.

 

The cloak’s cuffs and hem were embroidered with irises—the crest of the Louis family.

 

The fabric was of the finest quality, trailing elegantly to the ankles.

 

A noble and refined young master.

 

Garrick had always been self-reliant and never needed servants to dress him. He hadn’t expected that, when serving others, he’d do it so proficiently.

 

“…There. All done.”

 

Shui Que tugged at the cloak uncomfortably, then lifted his chin with arrogance. “I need someone to carry me downstairs.”

 

He stared directly at Garrick, making his intentions obvious to everyone.

 

[Is the streamer stunned? Why aren’t you saying anything?]


[Wait—Little Master… is this how you build good relationships?]


[Seems pretty friendly to me. As the big brother, isn’t it only natural for him to be a pony for little brother Shui Que?]

 

…

 

On the first floor, swords and shields hung on the walls alongside painted murals and the family crest of iris flowers.

 

Servants bustled about. A noble family’s mealtime was especially elaborate and could last one or two hours—an affair tied to the family’s honor, requiring full preparation.

 

From the spiral staircase came the sound of leather shoes tapping the steps.

 

Down below, servants hurriedly pulled back all the down-feather drapes from the windows and lit the candles in every candelabrum.

 

Count Louis pulled out a chair for his second wife, Maren. “Apologies, Que is somewhat sensitive to light.”

 

Maren gave a slight nod. Their marriage had been one of mutual interest, after all. Besides, she would soon move back to Blue City to manage the family business. She didn’t mind accommodating the Louis household for a while.

 

She just hadn’t expected Garrick to be getting along this well with his stepbrother.

 

The long dining table stretched nearly the entire length of the hall.

 

The seat at the head of the table, of course, belonged to Count Louis. Previously, Shui Que sat to his right.

 

But after the family was reorganized, the seating arrangement had changed.

 

Count Louis now sat at the head, with Madam Maren to his right.

 

The twin brothers were meant to sit across from each other.

 

Garrick had just set Shui Que down when the boy used his hands to scoot over to the next chair.

 

This way, he sat directly across from Dorian, with Garrick further off to the side.

 

With both their parents present, Garrick didn’t want to make a scene. He wasn’t particularly bothered anyway and simply sat down to Shui Que’s left.

 

The tablecloth was set with sterling silver cutlery, each knife and fork crafted with lily-patterned handles. On the candelabra, the flames of burning beeswax candles shone brightly, enough to let everyone see the vibrant colors, enticing aromas, and mouthwatering presentation of the dishes.

 

At the head of the long table, the food was rich in color and heavily spiced—stewed wild pheasant, mustard-pickled wild boar, chilled young goat meat in aspic…

 

Toward the far end of the table, however, the portions became smaller and simpler, consisting mostly of plain meat soup.

 

Naturally, those seated further down were the squires and male servants, so their food was more modest.

 

A server came forward, holding a large water jug. Water poured down in a stream as another servant held a bowl underneath to catch it.

 

Shui Que reached in and gave his hands a quick rinse. At just the right moment, a towel was handed to him for drying.

 

After the pre-meal prayer, Count Louis picked up his knife and fork, signaling that everyone could begin eating.

 

Shui Que hadn’t forgotten—he still needed to get on Garrick’s good side.

 

Quietly, he used his knife to cut off the parson’s nose—the rear end of the roasted hazel grouse—and placed it into Garrick’s soup bowl.

 

Beneath the edge of the long table, a little pinky finger poked out, pointing at Garrick.

 

When the other looked over, Shui Que smugly tilted his chin and mouthed the words, “For you.”

 

That roasted grouse had been placed directly between the two of them, clearly meant for both. According to the dining etiquette of the Kingdom of Tuva, the person of lower status should carve the food for the one of higher rank.

 

Seeing Shui Que pick up the knife and start cutting toward him, Garrick had actually thought the boy remembered to show some proper respect to his elder brother.

 

But what he received was the chicken butt—a piece so often left over at feasts and later given to the serfs as scraps.

 

Garrick gritted his teeth. He finally understood.

 

His little brother was a crybaby and a petty brat!

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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