Which one is real?
Now, setting aside Fake-rin and Fake Lucius & Lucille for the moment... I can’t tell Geraldin-san apart.
"They’re like mirrors!"
"Jend, can’t you figure out which one is real with your super intuition?"
"My ability doesn’t work that conveniently. It’s more combat-specialized, so this isn’t my area of expertise."
I see... His super intuition is more like a prophetic revelation than a power for distinguishing things.
"What about the scent?"
"Both smell like paint, blood, and Dad."
Since the real one had carried Pochi, the scent had transferred. One of the Geraldin-sans faintly smelled of Lucius & Lucille, but since the painting also carried the same scent, it was impossible to tell them apart.
"No choice, let’s call for help."
So, we summoned Geraldin-san’s eldest son, Jash. Lavita also came along, complaining to Rinka, who had been blocking them with her barrier. Good luck!
"…Why are there two!?"
"Right?!"
"One is already too much to handle, but two? What are we supposed to do with them?! Are we planning to mass-produce them for military purposes?!"
Jash was desperately closing in on me. Hold on. What’s with that grandiose plan?! And all I see in that future is us going broke from food expenses and Geraldin-san’s whims! No, that’s not the point here!
"Wait! Why are you blaming me?!"
"… Wasn’t this your doing?"
Jash tilted his head at me, genuinely puzzled.
"No... This time, it’s (probably) Pochi’s fault."
"Half of it’s Rosarin-chan’s cheat magic tool's fault."
"… I see."
Rinka’s interjection convinced Jash.
"Don’t just accept it!"
"Well, based on past experiences, it’s hard to argue..."
"……"
What kind of view does Jash have of me...? No, asking will only open Pandora's box, so I won’t ask!
"So, can you tell them apart?"
"……… I can’t."
Sadly, even the eldest son couldn’t do it.
"What about Pochi?"
"… I think I did a perfect job."
It seems even the creator can’t tell.
"Oh, then let’s use information the fake wouldn’t know!"
"Like what?"
"Um… how about your first meeting with Lumia-san?"
"‘Forgot!’"
We quickly realized that the memory of this muscle-brained hero couldn’t be relied upon. Even when we asked about other things, the real one had almost no recollection.
To make matters worse, the fake could transform into the Wolfanea Mask. The fake is incredible.
We tried having them fight, but their combat power was perfectly equal. The fake is absolutely amazing!
Left with no choice, I summoned the Colorfully Lewd Sage.
"Don’t bring me to such a dangerous place! And stop with these reckless transportation methods!!"
*We’re still in the boss room of the Cold Ruins.*
Apparently, he wasn’t pleased with the means of travel. Even though I got the Dungeon Master’s permission to create a slide to safely and quickly pass through the floors, this grumpy old man had complaints. Sure, the slide was steep and there were some monsters half-buried along the way, but those are minor details.
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"Which one is real?"
"… But first, why are there two heroes?! Explain yourself, you absurd disciple! Stop acting on impulse!"
Suddenly, I was blamed. Why?! After explaining, the Sage heaved a deep sigh.
"I get it now. It’s the result of a genius artist using a ridiculous magic tool created by a disciple with absurd creativity."
"So, can you tell them apart?"
"They’re identical down to the finest details, even in their magic power wavelengths. Even if you used the equipment from the Magic Academy, it’d be impossible to discern which is real."
"So, you’re useless."
"How is that something you say to a master who traveled all this way?! Being dragged here against my will, only to be called useless—this is too much!"
"… I’ll give you a souvenir as an apology. That was too harsh of me."
After giving him materials from the Cold Ruins, he forgave me. The Sage is easy to handle. Is he really okay? Could a bad woman deceive him...? Well, he does have a capable wife, so he should be fine.
In the end, not even the Sage could identify the real hero. Left with no other options, I resorted to the last method.
"No helping it. I didn’t want to ask this, but... Who is your master?"
"My Lord is My Lord.’"
"What’s your master’s name?"
"Rosarin."
"Pochi."
"This one’s the fake."
"As expected of Rosarin!"
To mark the real hero, I tied a ribbon to his hair.
"… Hey, you disaster-prone fool of a disciple."
"What is it, my esteemed master, beloved by his young wife in a most intimate manner?"
The Sage collapsed. He’s really weak against dirty jokes, isn’t he?
"Argh! So you mean you didn’t need me here because you could already distinguish the hero from the start?!"
"No, I couldn’t tell them apart. I only thought of this method after summoning you."
"Stupid disciple!!"
Since lying would have been pointless, I admitted it honestly, only to get scolded severely. Geez, this old man is so quick-tempered.
What do you think about this chapter?
