Midnight Spirits have always hated reading.

In Nostramo, he was very nasty.

And now, he's even more annoying.

The lonely Lord of the Night was not unaware of the importance of books and knowledge, but on the one hand, the cruel knowledge he was born with was enough for him, and on the other hand, Conrad did have a hard time studying after ruling Nostramo.

But the only thing he had learned from that time was that he was convinced that he didn't have the slightest ability to acquire knowledge, and that he was not even as good as the mortal governors under him when he was studying economics and rule.

From that moment on, the Midnight Ghost confirmed one thing: his Creator had no need for him to have any other knowledge, and that the righteousness, cruelty, and ruthlessness that had been hidden in his mind and born with him was all that the Lord of Humanity had expected of him.

After thinking about this, Conrad actually felt a sense of relief, like a hesitant traveler, when he came to the fork in the road that needed to be chosen, only to find that there was only one road to pass, it was a kind of weak happiness.

But the euphoria didn't last long: the ambitious Human Emperor dragged his most hopeless son out of the dark cavern, bewildered him with a blinding light, and then casually dropped him into the hands of another before the Midnight Ghost could make any protests.

This man, Morgan, the blood relative of the Midnight Ghost who deserves to die, the master of a lost legion, she is a ......

Belch......

A guy with a lot of character.

……

That's how Conrad can only describe it.

After all, in his mind, the greatest punishment that ordinary people, after extreme anger, can do is nothing more than death, plunder, or, more cruelly, death: there will be no new tricks.

Even the Midnight Ghost is the same.

But his carrion blood relative was different: though her anger and malice had boiled to the point of being visible to the naked eye, when she caught Midnight Ghost and spat out her punishment word by word, it really exceeded all of Conrad's expectations.

The moment he heard the name of torture, the Night King was more confused than fearful, and it came from a genuine confusion in his heart.

……

Twenty years of basic compulsory education......

What is it?

——————

But whatever that was, Conrad knew he had to comply.

After all, between Conrad and Morgan: she is the Midnight Ghost.

——————

"Jingle bell—"

"Jingle bell—"

"Jingle bell—"

The cacophony of the rattling bell in the dimly lit space successfully disrupts yet another restful sleep and the restful state of mind of the occupant in the room.

Conrad opened his eyes, and with a casual touch, he grabbed the thing that disturbed his dream, and glanced at the time on it: Terra time, five thirty in the morning.

From the throat of the Nostramo man, there was a dull and indecent sound, and the genogen smashed the gadget against the wall with some roughness, and then rolled over on the hard bed, and landed firmly on the ground, so skillful that he had done it many times.

Conrad rubbed the blemishes at the corners of his eyes with his freshly cut fingernails, and in a whispered mutter, he dragged his tall and heavy body to the dressing room, and when he passed by the dutiful steel rooster, the genogen deliberately picked it up, patted it first, and then saw if it was broken, and then put it back on his bedside.

Then, as if thinking of the hard work of this venerable little metal creature all this time, he deliberately turned around and solemnly patted the stubborn creature that had been thrown off by him just a minute earlier.

"Thank you for your continued dedication and perseverance, gargoyle."

Conrad whispered the name he had given to the alarm clock, and he named every object in his room, all with a Nostramo feel: in this way, the genogen was nostalgic for the cold land of his sinful homeland.

Then, he turned around, walked into the bathroom, and began to wash.

At 5:31 a.m. in Terra time, Conrad's day officially began.

——————

In fact, with the reality of expeditionary fleets traveling through the galaxy wantonly, and the existence of subspace, a chaotic quagmire that subverts physics and astrophysics, it is extremely difficult to determine the exact time on any of the warships of the Great Expedition.

This is true even on the greatest Glory Queen-class ships, and many of Morgan's warriors don't really have much of a concept of time, and they deduce time based on the Legion's issued schedules, or by following the movements of other battle brothers.

And even those mortals who need accurate time to work can only follow a rough range, and it is a great thing to be able to adjust the accuracy to less than five minutes: after all, they have to go on a subspace voyage anytime and anywhere, and every time they go through subspace, all the time adjustments lose their value.

However, unlike the Daybreaker or mortals, Conrad, as a genetic protogen, always has a certain amount of privilege: yes, even in the fair realm of time, there is a soil that can nourish privilege, and there are big people who can enjoy privilege.

Conrad is certainly one of them.

After all, as early as when the note of [Twenty Years of Compulsory Education] was pasted on his face, along with it was the diligent [Gargoyle], which was forcefully stuffed into Conrad's palm by Morgan, and he couldn't help but refuse a little.

The Spider Empress wields the ingenuity of psionic energy with ease in front of her blood relatives: this clock is not only stubborn enough to withstand the wrath of the Night King, but also has a certain stable connection with the Holy Terra, thousands of miles away, and no matter what angle it is in the galaxy, it will faithfully walk the time of the Holy Terra.

With this, Conrad's studies began.

……

It took only three minutes for the Nostramo man to finish his washing, and instead of washing his hair today, he began to rummage through boxes and cabinets to find his dental floss and razor: for Conrad, saving his long black hair from the clutches of the Queen of the Rotting Corpses, and the right to wash his hair every two days, was the first great victory to remember, but at the cost of having to make his teeth and chin look [as white as his face].

And as the [Midnight Ghost of the Midnight Ghost], Morgan unmistakably announced to her blood relatives that she would check whether Conrad had done this from time to time, and decide whether to keep Conrad's long hair or not.

For this reason, the Nostramo people diligently protect their teeth and wait for the examination that will come at any time: however, until today, the examination has not arrived.

……

Was he deceived?

Confusion like this flashed through Conrad's mind, enough to stop and think for a moment, but the answer to thinking was often business as usual: after all, the Nostramo had learned a lesson called "Caution" when it came to Morgan.

He paid a lot of tuition.

Conrad snorted, and as he razored the short soft beard on the left side of his jaw, he groped his way slowly through the room, dodging the books and notebooks he had thrown everywhere.

His destination was a table large enough to hold a sand table, on which stood a Dracula fortress lined up with various texts, and next to it stood a dim wall lamp, not much brighter than candles, and the books were cleverly arranged to remind them of the ancient Gothic buildings leaning against each other on Nostramo, and the beams that supported these inky high-rises were small but frightening enough to be skulls.

This is Conrad's work of art: the raw materials he obtained by reasonable and legal means, and even the equivalent of what he owned, belonged to his sacrosanct private property, and even the Spider Empress could not easily take them.

The genogen put down the razor, and as his gaze wandered over the bone carvings, concepts like the Declaration of Human Rights and the sanctity of private property involuntarily overflowed from his brain, making him feel a little distressed.

Frankly, the Genogen hated this knowledge, because he didn't think he would be able to use it, and the concepts and words were not learned by his own volition, but by the Spider Queen, holding her invisible leather whip, and holding the heavy concept and high status of the word "Midnight Ghost" in Conrad's mind, and forcing him to learn: or, rather, rote memorization.

How could such knowledge be respected and used by Conrad?

Thinking of this, the Night Lord couldn't help but laugh contemptuously, but when his gaze swept over the fusion of the table and the bone carving, other concepts popped up: he lived on Morgan's battleship and didn't pay rent, so were those rooms considered a gift from Morgan, and were they his personal property?

……

"What are you thinking, Conrad!"

A low roar came from the throat of the Nostramo man, and he swung his claws at the air in front of him, mocking his actions with a tiger-like screech, his face full of silent menace.

And it was then that his ears caught the slight knock on the door.

“…… Here it comes. ”

The Night King replied in a low voice, glancing at the table, picking up a few notes in the center, and walking to the door, smoothing his breath as best he could, and pinning his long black hair behind his ears.

When I opened the door, I saw Virgo pushing the dining cart, standing at the door.

"What are you going to eat today?"

Conrad crouched down, and he glanced at the expressionless Virgo: for the original maid who had been working diligently to bring him food, the Night King had the same affection and appreciation for her as the Gargoyle.

"Or mango jam?"

When Conrad took the plate full of bread and milk, he expressed his displeasure with the ingredients.

"I want apples and peaches."

“……”

Virgo blinked: just a few months ago, the gloomy-looking Nostramo cousin would just take the food without saying a word, no matter what was on it.

Maybe it was a mistake for his mother to let his academic progress go to [human rights law]?

Virgo thought to herself, but on the surface, she still maintained her absolute indifference, trying not to let Conrad see what was going on inside her.

"This is a battleship, not a hotel, Lord Conrad, and it doesn't seem to be stated in the code of conduct given to you by Lord Primordial that you have the right to be a picky eater: please believe that every breakfast you have is specially formulated with nutrients, and you need mangoes more than apples and peaches."

"I remember that my code of conduct didn't prohibit me from going to Morgan's throne room for a protest march."

“……”

"Do you want to try it now and defend my apple and peach freedom?"

“……”

Damn, this guy is getting tougher to deal with than it was a few months ago.

Virgo's slight frown did not escape Conrad's eyes, which made his gloomy morning mood much more pleasant, and he put the book in his arms into the dining car.

"Yesterday's homework: Although I have not been able to understand what math and law have to do with each other."

"Lovers in the realm of logic, Lord Conrad."

Virgo responded coldly, and pulled out a brand new book from the compartment at the bottom of the dining car, seeing this scene, Conrad couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"Oh...... Today is the morning day test? ”

"Please finish them at breakfast, Lord Conrad: these are the points you have learned or reviewed in the last few months, and they are not very difficult, mainly in the fields of logic and history."

"I don't love those two disciplines."

"You don't love any subject."

Conrad smiled.

"I can't say that, little one who serves my blood relatives: I like the history of the secret police, and the dystopian literature, which are very ...... Practical value. ”

Virgo looked at the smile on Nostramo's face, and keenly observed that Conrad's cheeks had plumped up considerably: his face was still thin, but not the scary sight of a skeleton, and a grace that could be called slender, with a pale smile full of play.

"When you meet with Master Morgan, she wants you to bring your question book."

"Please tell her, I will."

"Oh, by the way, please tell her: when will my request to go to the public cafeteria be approved, I can't bear to let you little guy run around with a food cart every day, it will make me feel like a stupid aristocrat."

Virgo, who had already pushed the dining cart away, heard this and looked up.

"The public cafeteria will only be open free of charge to members of the Dawnbreaker Legion and their subordinates, as well as invited visitors, and you don't seem to be among them, Lord Conrad."

"It's okay."

The smile of the Nostramo people can almost be called "bright".

"I can work in the kitchen to earn money for my meals."

"My knife skills are still good, and it will definitely open their eyes."

“…… I don't doubt it. ”

(End of chapter)