Chick 288
by Cristae288
Lea stared down at the bowl of bibimbap in front of her, wearing a reluctant expression.
‘This is edible, right?’
She glanced around the cafeteria; everyone was mixing their food.
But her hand holding the spoon hesitated to move.
As Lea wavered, the three around her kept stealing glances her way.
Steeling herself, Lea finally heaped up a big spoonful of bibimbap.
As she stared at her spoon for a moment, the underaged trio watched her as if cheering her on.
Right. Refusing food here would be impolite.
Finally, she squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth wide, putting the bibimbap in.
Mixing everything together… Could it possibly taste awful? But the sticky rice and the crispy, fresh vegetables weren’t bad at all.
As she chewed, her eyes opened gradually; unconsciously, she found herself savoring each bite. The savory and spicy flavors slid smoothly down her throat.
A lingering spiciness remained, making her want another mouthful.
‘Just one more…’
One spoonful, then another. Lea soon ate the bibimbap with no hesitation, and smiles began to bloom on the children’s faces as well.
They kept pushing their bowls toward her, urging her to try this and that, and Lea obediently tasted everything, chewing happily.
After a bite of braised short ribs, Lea covered her mouth—laughing at the sweet, salty flavor that wouldn’t let her stop smiling.
“It’s delicious.”
Soon, laughter blossomed around the table.
At that moment, the Maltese—tethered to a garden pillar and carrying a hamster and rabbit—lay quietly, stretched out.
Some passing staff reached out to pet her, unable to resist her cuteness, but Yulian simply turned her head and sighed, ignoring them.
All that filled her mind was the need to escape and return to her master.
But for now, she was nothing more than an ordinary dog.
‘Is there no other way?’
With a groan, Yulian rested her chin on her forepaws.
“Hm…”
As Yulian worried, Bailach—enjoying the fresh air for the first time in a while—rested his chin on his paws and inspected Yulian’s subdued demeanor.
He had noticed it from the moment they’d arrived at Orchestra. Having watched just in case, his suspicions were confirmed.
He quietly whispered to Lucifer.
“Myu.” (Our mount isn’t doing well.)
“Gyuu?”
Lucifer perked up his ears.
“Myu.” (She stopped getting angry, stopped trembling, from the moment we entered Orchestra.)
“Gyu?”
Isn’t that a good thing? That seemed to be what Lucifer was asking, but to Bailach, it was nothing good.
“Mymy? Myu myut.” (A Maltese who even snarled at On Joorim suddenly goes quiet? Something’s wrong.)
Oh! Lucifer nodded as if convinced.
Bailach sat cross-legged with his short legs, arms folded, tilting his head in thought.
He had several suspicions, but one stood out as the worst possibility.
Bailach spoke gravely.
“Myumyumt.” (The skill’s duration might be running out.)
Turning Yulian into a Maltese had been a result of Yulian’s own skill, bounced back by Mephisto.
He hadn’t told Groo or Mephisto, but a mere human’s skill could never last forever.
At this, Lucifer exclaimed in distress.
“Gyuu…!”
“Myu….” (Yes, if that happens…)
Bailach curled his tiny paw into a fist.
“Myu!” (Our mount will disappear!)
“Gyu, gyuuuu?!”
“Myufuut…”
Bailach clenched his teeth in regret.
“Myumyu.” (We have to solve this, or else it’s back into the bag for us.)
“Gyugyu…” (But…)
“Myutmyut?” (Are you really willing to compete with Mephisto for our master’s head?)
Remembering Mephisto’s jealous kicks, Lucifer shook his head.
“Myu!” (That’s why we need this Maltese to stay a Maltese!)
Bailach raised his voice as if giving a rousing speech.
The naïve Lucifer was fully convinced.
“Myu. Myumyumyumyu.” (So go steal some ‘Parent Gratitude Snacks.’ You know where our master hides them, right?)
“Gyu…!” (How did you…!)
Lucifer brought both paws up to his open mouth, astonished.
“Myumyumyumyu myumyu myumyumyumyu.” (I’ll get her to eat the snacks and amplify the skill’s effect. We can’t let her turn back into a human.)
Lucifer’s gaze faltered.
What an evil plan to have come up with!
“Gyu…!” (Diabolical genius hamster…!)
Heehee! Bwahaha! The ugly hamster cackled wickedly.
The staff passing by saw the hamster grinning from atop the Maltese and whispered to each other.
“Ratatouille?”
Lea felt the world spinning.
“Hello, Groo! Hi Dany! Hi Sergey! And I see you brought a friend~”
Wherever they went, the trio were greeted enthusiastically, and Lea, caught up in it all, ended up joining the Orchestra tour herself.
‘How did this happen?!’
The children seemed convinced that Lea was simply here for the tour.
After darting from training room to lounge, break area, playroom, and all sorts of places, the next destination with the underaged trio was the simulation room.
“He said if we want to use the sim room, one of us has to cover the cost, so Joorim hyung gave us scrip.”
Lea’s eyes widened.
In the glass-walled central space stood a man with harsh, gray hair.
Around him, a shimmering, semi-solid galaxy undulated.
“Amakusa Kazuki?!”
“Cool, right?”
Lea nodded her head blankly.
A one-of-a-kind S-rank craftsman—what hunter’s heart wouldn’t race?
“So you’re making a new series?”
“Yeah. I think hyung got a bit inspired now that there’s a new S+ coming out.”
Naturally, Gidan and Sergey’s gazes turned to Groo.
Groo puffed up her cheeks in pride and nodded with exaggerated self-importance.
Meanwhile, Lea—who couldn’t imagine Groo was the creator of the new S+—cast her eyes around, hoping to glimpse Fakeclaw.
As Lea, who’d at first held back, now enjoyed herself, Gidan and Groo exchanged quiet smiles.
Next was Sergey’s office.
One side was decked out like a gaming den, with a big TV and several game consoles.
Gidan picked up a controller and handed it to Lea.
On the screen appeared the title: ‘OVERCOOKED2.’
“Groo’s on my team. Lea, you’re with Sergey.”
Gidan arbitrarily formed the teams, high-fiving Groo and declaring them the ‘Patriotic Conservative Team.’
As she experimentally pressed the buttons, Lea blinked.
“Sorry… I don’t really know how to play.”
“As long as you’ve got fingers, you’ll manage.”
Sergey’s encouragement earned him a small nod from Lea.
But Sergey quickly regretted his words.
On the screen, Lea’s character was wandering aimlessly, lost.
“No! You’re supposed to pass that to me!”
Sergey cried out. Lea was far worse than he’d expected.
“Sorryyy!”
Lea wailed her apology, and Gidan and Groo exploded into laughter.
As Sergey’s scolding continued, Lea glanced in confusion at Groo, who was giggling delightfully.
“……?”
The child’s laughter was so lovely, so heartwarmingly pure, that Lea suddenly fell silent.
‘Now that I think of it, what am I even doing?’
This wasn’t the time for games, was it?
As she realized what she was supposed to be doing, her mind went hazy, only for a tide of questions to come rushing in.
‘Orchestra’ seemed much more ordinary than she’d imagined. Just a regular company, full of kind, decent people.
‘Could I have been wrong all along?’
If something terrible were happening at Orchestra, could a child laugh like that?
Would something so monstrous really occur in such a bright, welcoming place?
Lea gripped the controller even tighter, trying to suppress her confusion.
Surrounded by wholesome laughter and the children’s innocent joy, the suspicions gnawing at her gradually faded.
“How can you lose to Groo?!”
Groo, offended, protested Sergey’s jab.
“Groo’s just good at it!”
“Let’s try a new game, a shooting one this time. Maybe you’ll be good at that.”
At Gidan’s suggestion, Sergey folded his arms and fell silent again.
As a dark intro rolled across the big TV, Lea blinked.
It seemed to be a multiplayer horror game about surviving monsters.
— Huff, huff…
On screen, her character panted in a dimly lit room.
Old tiled walls, a small, dirty space illuminated by a single lamp.
Lea experimented with moving her character around this unfamiliar setting, then flinched and looked around in reality.
She was certainly sitting in Sergey’s office.
‘But why…’
She could hear, faintly, the trickling of water running through the sewers.
“……”
As forgotten memories returned, Lea froze with the controller in her hands.
Her breathing grew shallow and quick.
As a child, Lea had lived in a small, three-pyeong, square white-tiled room.
The walls were often stained with damp, and the air was always cold and heavy with the scent of standing water.
Trickle, trickle. Sometimes water ran through a groove in the base of the wall.
Sometimes blood would run with it.
Turn your head into the corner of the square room, and there sat the girl, knees pulled up, a face just like Lea’s, like an identical twin.