A Rider Doesn't Need a Youth Romantic Comedy [30]

Inside Kondō Yamato’s house, Rōma stood before a full-length mirror draped with heavy curtains.

He had only one question in his head at the moment—
What kind of mentality did Kondō Yamato have when he decided to pick up something that looked this blatantly cursed?

Dark-purple stains speckled the mirror’s iron frame, traces of some unknown substance—
possibly dried blood, or something even worse.

At the very top, a skull wearing a wizard’s hat stared blankly forward with hollow sockets that seemed to hold some deep, unspoken secret.

Of course, it was just a decorative piece.

Kondō Yamato had once learned, in his conversations with the mirror, that the frame and the mirror itself were separate components.

The frame was made of ordinary metal craftwork—but the mirror surface…

“Oh, my God! Look who’s come to visit!”

“I’d bet anything that it isn’t young Kondō! Poor lad—oh, what terrible pain he must be suffering right now!”

“Mother Mary in heaven, this is simply dreadful! Like an apple pie left too long in the oven!”

A shrill, nasally “translated accent” oozed out from behind the curtain, the voice sharp enough to make one’s ears twitch.
It sounded like a snide, gossipy woman—but there were only two people in this room.

Rōma.
And the Institute investigator beside him.

“How’s the analysis report looking?”

Ignoring the talkative mirror, Rōma turned to the investigator.

“According to the test results, Kondō Yamato’s mental state is completely normal. No signs of interference.”

Once Kondō had been brought to the Institute, the standby medical team immediately performed a full physical and psychological assessment.

With the Institute’s technology, even irregularities in one’s soul could be detected—
and forcibly corrected, if necessary.

“Including the part where he picked up this hideous mirror?”

Pointing at the curtain-covered object, Rōma’s voice dropped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

To be honest, this mirror’s design was an absolute eyesore.
The glass itself looked like it was wearing a bad cheap punk makeover,
while the frame resembled something a drunken artist might sketch while vomiting over a toilet bowl for stress relief.

“Yes. As far as we can tell, he brought the mirror home entirely by his own will.”

The investigator scratched his head, still baffled.
He truly couldn’t understand this kind of reckless behavior.

Kondō’s parents weren’t rich, but they weren’t struggling either.
His allowance was generous enough compared to his classmates.

So why in the world did he decide to drag this thing home?

“Oh, dear boy—by the grace of God, could you, perhaps, if it isn’t too much trouble, remove this curtain that reeks of old socks from my face?”

“Oh heavens, this is absolutely intolerable!”

The mirror continued to chatter endlessly under the curtain.

But to Rōma, it didn’t feel like it was actually seeking conversation—just… rambling for its own amusement.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Rōma finally said:

“Oh, drop that pathetic fake accent.”

“Your ridiculous translation tone is as tiresome as Grandma Susie’s bedtime stories.”

“I swear, if—and I mean if—you keep talking like a squealing groundhog, I’ll use my boot to kick your ass. I promise!”

His father once told him: to defeat magic, you have to use magic.

By the same logic—to deal with a bad accent, you have to fight fire with fire.

“Er…”

The mirror hesitated, momentarily stunned.

This was the first time it had ever met someone like this.

“Who’s Grandma Susie?”

“Hell if I know.”

The investigator, tablet in hand, leaned toward Rōma and whispered.

That long exchange of fake-accent nonsense had left not only the mirror but even him completely lost.

Who was Grandma Susie?
Aren’t you wearing sneakers?
And how the hell are you supposed to “kick its ass”? It doesn’t even have one!

Internally screaming, the investigator nonetheless maintained a perfectly professional poker face.

“Now then,” said the mirror after a few seconds, its tone normalizing, as if recalibrating its speech system.

“What business do you have with me?”

“Oh, my friend, we seem to be facing a terrible problem.”

“Yes, you heard right—a terrible one. Your problem.”

Hearing Rōma’s mock translation accent thrown back at it, the mirror fell silent.

What was this man even doing?

“Oh, my dear—wait, wait, let’s not get violent!”

Just as it was about to answer in the same accent, it noticed Rōma lifting his foot.

Was he really planning to kick it?!

Was this man insane?!

“Start by telling me what exactly you are.”

Lowering his foot, Rōma calmly typed on the tablet—
Observation: Not limited to direct line of sight. Even covered, it can perceive surroundings.

“I’m just a mirror. Really. Though I know many things, I truly am just a mirror.”

“From time to time, I receive information—but not by choice.”

“I can’t control what kind of information or when it comes; I just receive it passively.”

“About a month ago, I was lying quietly in another world—in the Demon King’s labyrinth.”

“And then, suddenly, I appeared here. I still don’t know how it happened.”

“What happened with Kondō Yamato has nothing to do with me. I didn’t do anything! I only provided him with an awakening ritual.”

Before Rōma could even press, the mirror began spilling its story in one long breath.

Moments ago, it had received a new influx of information—vague and fragmented, but enough for it to understand who stood before it.

Members of the Human Order Security Organization’s Research Institute.

A long, imposing title.

It didn’t fully grasp what this organization was, but from what it did know, their stance toward anomalies like itself was… complicated.

Sometimes they contained them.
Sometimes they studied them.
And sometimes—they smashed them on sight.

This world was far too beautiful for it to end as shattered glass.

“Good.”

Rōma nodded, satisfied with how cooperative this one was.

Looked like the Institute had gained another containment and research subject.

For anomalous items like this, the Institute generally prioritized containment and analysis.

But when an anomaly posed too great a threat, destruction was also an option.

Just recently, the Institute had incinerated a gramophone that lured listeners into suicide.

That particular case had passed directly through Rōma’s hands.

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This is a fan translation of 骑士不需要青春恋爱物语 by 青琮 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!