During my days off, I finally get to do things my way. That includes breakfast— Two eggs sizzling on the pan, one spoon of instant coffee, some toasted bread, and a couple of oranges. A luxury fit for a hardworking man like me.

  “It smells… like bread,” mutters Rika, half-awake, hair a complete battlefield.

  I glance over, shocked she’s even conscious this early. She lazily drags herself to the table, sits down like a princess, and—out of nowhere—summons a perfectly clean spoon from thin air. Then just waits.

  “Uh… good morning?”

  “Good morning,” she says flatly, staring at me like I’m her royal butler.

  Is just her second day, last night she get tired pretty quickly after all that chat and slept before me, and now she is really well adapted it seems.

  I frown, flipping the eggs. “You know I’m not making breakfast for you every day, right? I’m tired as hell. You should cook for me—you’re the woman here.”

  That line woke her up real fast. The dark circles vanished instantly. She stomped toward me, glaring and pointing with her finger to me.

  “ME!? That’s such a barbaric way to think, Daryn!” She takes a moment to think” You’re just like your father—big gorilla brain!”

  That hit a nerve. Comparing me to him? My patience compass just spun out of control. I take a deep breath.

  “What I meant,” I say, turning back to the eggs, “is maybe we should divide chores. You don’t work yet, so maybe you handle breakfast and cleaning, and I’ll bring in the money.”

  She crosses her arms, clearly ready to argue… but then sighs.

  “Fine. But only until you rent the shop. After that, I’ll be busy.”

  “But we’ll still need to share house duties. I mean, there’s two of us.”

  “We can just hire a butler! Or a cleaner!”

  I stare at her. “...Do you think money grows on trees?”

  Spoiled noble girl logic. I’m trying to save for the damn permit, and she’s talking about staff. Still, to avoid another rant, I half-nod.

  “Sure, sure… maybe later.”

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  She refused to touch the frying pan, claiming ‘a noble lady’s hands are for magic, not egg flipping.’ So I cooked her share. She looked way too happy eating it, and then—just to rub it in—she used my oranges to make organic orange juice. Not even letting me time to make my own coffee.

  “Anyway,” I say while cleaning up, “we’re heading to Bunchy’s house today. Need to get your luggage.”

  “Oh, that friend from last time?”

  “Yup. I owe him gas money. Since he gives me rides to work. The least I can do is pay him back.”

  She suddenly freezes, cheeks turning pink.

  “What’s wrong? Is it really hard to believe I am responsible?” I frown.

  “N-nothing! I wasn’t looking at you, idiot!”

  She looks away, puffing her cheeks.

  …Oh boy. Another day in another world—with the most spoiled, adorable headache I’ve ever met.

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  After breakfast, we head to Bunchy’s place to pick up Rika’s luggage.

  “Thanks for everything, Bunchy. You’re a real buddy.”

  I pat his shoulder to show some appreciation. The guy almost chokes mid-bite on his hamburger trying to respond.

  “No problem,” he says after gulping. “If you two have any issues, come to me right away.”

  Rika gives a polite bow, swinging her skirt down as a thankful gesture. “Thank you for taking care of my brother and me these past few days.”

  Bunchy scratches the back of his head, all shy. “Don’t worry about it. My place isn’t exactly great anyway.”

  Before leaving, I hand him the small pouch of coins I owe him. He opens it—then drops in more silver coins and gives it back to me.

  “What’s this?” I ask, confused.

  “You can keep it. It’s a little collaboration between me, Tenque, and Sorey.”

  He grins and gives me a thumbs-up.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Is it more believable that Tenque jumped into the ocean to wrestle with sharks than him giving me money.”

  Bunchy laughs. “Okay, you got me. Sorey and I had to force Tenque to chip in.”

  "But dude, you need-" Before I complete my sentence Bunchy Talks back at me cutting me in

  “It’s appreciation money, man. You and your sister have been through a lot. The others felt bad for all the trouble they caused.”

  “Wow, didn’t expect that,” I say genuinely surprised. “Tell them I said thanks.”

  Those two caused enough chaos to fill a small book, but maybe they have hearts after all. Even Tenque, who still calls me “Slimmy,” has stopped throwing all the rocks at me. That’s progress.

  With this money, Rika and I decide to finally rent the old shop.

  A morning cannot be completed without some mix of caffeine.

  We stopped by a small café near downtown. The waiters are surprisingly fast, and the place smells like ambition and baked sugar.

  It’s nothing fancy, but good enough to make me question why I never treat myself.

  Now that Rika’s with me, though, it’s like having a partner in crime.

  “So, what’s wrong?” I ask when she sniffs her cup suspiciously.

  She squints. “Weird. I thought this was beer.”

  I nearly choke. “Why the hell would I bring you out for hot beer?! Actually—why would I bring you out for beer at all!?”

  "Because it smell weird like the smell is quite strong, it might even taster bitter"

  "Good nose but it is not beer"

  She leans back with a dramatic groan. “Ugh, you’re so boring.”

  I sigh. “You’ve never had coffee before, right?”

  “Nope. My mom never let me.”

  I blink. “Fair enough. I guess”

  Then she starts spooning sugar. One. Two. Three.

  “Hey, hey—stop! You’ll end up with syrup instead of coffee.”

  “Don’t worry,” she says proudly, “expensive sugar like this doesn’t increase weight. Only commoner’s sugar does.”

  I shake my head, watching her experiment with chemistry-level precision. If my morning would be like this from now, perhaps I can get used to it, if I try. The important thing is that she is back to normal.

  “So… you don’t like it?” I ask when she finally sips.

  Her face contorts like she just bit a lemon. “It’s bitter. I don’t know how you drink this.”

  “But, you put a lot of sugar into it. What do you mean!”

  Great. I paid for that. She drinks one sip and declares war on caffeine itself.

  “Fine, let’s go,” I mutter, standing up. “I still have to set up the foldable bed.”

  Her eyes widen instantly. “Hold up, wait a minute!” She raises her hand like she’s commanding an army, cheeks turning pink.

  “Now what?” I ask, already regretting breathing.

  “You’re such a pervert! Buying one bed!? I refuse this arrangement!”

  I deadpan. “It’s been one day, and I already regret saving you.”

  “Ha! You don’t mean that.” She crosses her arms proudly. “You need me. I mean, who else is going to fix your fashion sense?”

  I blink. “My… what?”

  She points at my clothes dramatically. “Just look at you! You’ll never impress that elf girl with that prehistoric outfit.”

  Ignoring her ridiculous response I decide to state the obvious. “Again… once we stabilize, we’ll buy another bed. But first, we pay rent for the shop.”

  She scoffs. “So we have enough?”

  “Well… Yes. Between what we saved and the money from Bunchy and the others, we can manage. Still have debts, though…”

  “Don’t care!” she sings. “The important thing is to rent it now! I can smell success from the core of my soul!”

  With reckless confidence, she grabs the coffee—and downs it all in one go.

  Instant regret. Her whole body trembles, her eyes water, and she makes a noise somewhere between a hiccup and a scream.

  I sigh. “See? That’s what you get.”

  Her legs wobble, and before I know it, she collapses forward. I barely catch her before she faceplants into the table.

  “Great. Now I’ve got to carry you and the bed home.”

  The waiter just watches me struggle and whispers, “Ah, young love.”

  “Shut up,” I mutter, dragging her out like a sack of sleepy royalty.

  Another day in paradise—or what passes for it in this world.

  “What a pain,” I mutter, hoisting her onto my back.

  Compared to when before the casino incident, she seems more irritable—or maybe her old attitude is just returning. Still, even before, she wasn’t this rough. As I watch her now, I realize I never really knew her that well. Even when we lived together at her mother’s house, we weren’t exactly close. Maybe now that she feels freer, she’s finally showing her true self… even if it comes out through constant scolding.

  In the apartment I left her in a corner resting until she felt better.

  That didn’t take long.

  “What, you don’t like my apartment? But I took my time to organize it, see no more trash on the floor”

  “This… you call this an apartment?” Rika gestured at the small space in front of us. “It’s just a slightly bigger room than usual!”

  “It was a good offer, besides you should be glad we had a room to bring you in”

  Her cheeks redden of humiliation

  “I know that, but sorry to be honest!”

  “I don’t think your honesty is the problem… “

  “Now” She breath middle sentence “where is the bathroom, I'm dying to take a shower”

  “Ah.. sure. Is just around the corner”

  While she takes a shower, I set up the foldable bed we bought. It’s smaller than I expected—definitely not as spacious as the seller claimed. For the price, it seemed fair enough, but when he said “two people can fit,” I didn’t think he meant “squeeze together like sardines.”

  “Not even a blanket, damn. I completely forgot!” I scratch my head in frustration.

  I have enough money for blankets, but that would mean sacrificing part of the rent. So—big no.

  I don’t really mind it, but I’m not sure about Rika.

  When she finally comes out, her face is calm—until it isn’t.

  As soon as she opens her eyes, irritation flashes across her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask carefully.

  “Don’t you see? Same clothes! It feels gross,” she huffs, crossing her arms like she’s staging a fashion protest.

  “I see.”

  “You don’t seem to get it.”

  “I do! But we picked up your luggage, right? Don’t you, I don’t know, have extra clothes in there?”

  “Well yes,” she says, puffing her chest with pride, “but those are special shop clothes, handcrafted by the peasant workers of Don Farmfarm.”

  “…You’re kidding.”

  She tilts her head, dead serious. “No, why would I joke about Don Farmfarm?”

  “That shouldn’t even be the question here! The question is—” I inhale sharply, then sigh. “You know what… forget it. Just tell me why you’re not using those clothes.”

  “Daryn,” she says, pointing a finger dramatically at my forehead, “your little cavern-man brain just doesn’t understand. The first appearance is everything! When I open my shop, I must—and I repeat, must—have perfectly clean clothes! Since I’m starting from the bottom, I need to connect with my inner peasant self. That’s why I bought these clothes!”

  “You just called yourself a peasant… like me.”

  “I know, I know,” she says, waving her hand like it’s a minor detail. “But listen! You have to match your clients’ vibe! This outfit screams ‘relatable, down-to-earth shopkeeper.’ Believe me, it’s strategy.”

  I rub my temples. “Couldn’t you just… bring more clothes then?”

  Without hesitation, she smacks the back of my head. “If I brought all my clothes, I’d have nothing to sell! Look!”

  I blink, watching as she proudly opens her luggage. I brace myself to see some beautiful merchandise, maybe fancy accessories or rare items.

  Instead, I’m greeted by the saddest collection of junk I’ve ever seen—buttons, cracked bottles, weirdly shaped rocks, and something that might’ve been a frog once.

  “Uh… what is this?”

  She beams. “The things I plan to sell!”

  I stare into the chaos of her “inventory.” “…All I see is trash.”

  Her smile doesn’t falter. “That’s what you see, but to the right buyer, this is a treasure trove.”

  “Right. And that buyer would be… who exactly?”

  “Someone with vision.” She crosses her arms proudly. “Unlike you, Mister No-Aesthetic.”

  “That’s not the point, Rika! You can’t rent a shop if all you’re selling is this! You packed a giant suitcase just for trash?”

  “Well… and a few pendants. Bandages, Oh, and earrings! And—voodoo sticks I can make!”

  “Make, not made,” I groan, rubbing my temples. “That’s so irresponsible! You can’t just say ‘Let’s open a shop!’ when you have nothing to sell!”

  She grins and suddenly pulls out the book of Lars.

  “What’s that?” I ask, suspicious.

  “Well the solution of our problem since you are so exalted, while you were finding ingredients for dinner, I went to the library and—voilà! Using your book as a reference, I made a copy of The Rare Prizes of Caverns!”

  “…Okay?”

  “Read it.”

  She shoves the book right in my face. Skimming through, I see detailed drawings of minerals and gemstones, each with descriptions and notes.

  “Hey, relax! No need to go all aggressive. Just explain it to me.”

  She grabs a fistful of my hair. “How many times do I have to spell it out for you?! We can go to the caves and find these rocks! Now you have a guide!”

  “Ah—okay, okay! I get it! Now let go of my hair!”

  “Look! It even has their locations!” she says, pointing at the page.

  I peer at the map. Each image is clear and detailed—enough that I recognize the spot right away. It’s not far from where we live.

  Maybe keeping this book wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could help with my career… assuming my hair survives this partnership.

  “Sounds like a plan, what if we sleep now, it was a long day and I’m tired. Tomorrow we can work on that”

  A small silent lingers on the moment reminding of what it is.

  From where she stands, I can see she is not moving a single muscle.

  I open my mouth to ask, but she catches up faster than I do.

  She scoffs. “Just because we’re living in the same room doesn’t mean we’re sharing the same bed!”

  “So, I guess I’ll sleep on the floor,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.

  Her expression shifts from irritation to disbelief, and then mild exasperation. Rika had this uncanny way of catching me off guard with her strange, sometimes unexpected reactions. One thing was certain—living together was going to be… interesting.

  I turn off the lights, ready to sleep.

  Few seconds after the lights go out, I hear a whine—no, more like a strained groan.

  “Wait!” she suddenly screams, stopping me in my tracks.

  I flick the lights back on. “What?”

  She’s standing there, looking uneasy, almost panicked.

  “What if we… leave the lights on tonight?”

  I glance at her, half-smiling. “The electric bill’s gonna be high, you know.”

  “Please?” Her voice shakes, small and fragile, like she’s holding something back.

  The air shifts. The light flickers just a little, and for a moment, I catch the reflection in her eyes—wide, distant, searching for something that isn’t here.

  “Why?” I ask, softer this time.

  She looks away. “I don’t know… it’s just when it’s dark…” Her fingers curl into her sleeves, gripping tightly. “I hear… things. It’s like the silence starts whispering, and then—” she stops, breathing unevenly. “My heart just—hurts. And my head… I can’t stop but it is like when the lights off my mind makes me remember those moments” She breathes harder for a moment.

  That hits me harder than I expect. I just nod. “Fine. I’ll buy a lamp tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Daryn.”

  “No, it's fine. Don’t need to thank me”

  I sigh, grabbing a cardboard box to cover my face from the light. Lying on the cold floor, it’s impossible to sleep—too bright, too cold, too absurd. Eventually, I sit against the wall, hoping exhaustion wins.

  Then—

  Step.

  Step.

  Knock.

  “...What?” I mumble.

  “Come here. I can’t sleep,” she says.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t get the wrong idea, idiot. It’s not like I want to sleep with you!”

  I shake my head. “You know we barely fit on that bed.”

  “Just come. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  With a resigned sigh, I crawl over. We end up sitting close, instead of laying. Almost awkwardly in our postures but then she leans her head on my shoulder—quiet, calm.

  For once, I stay silent. If I say something dumb, she’ll probably smack me again.

  So instead, I let her rest.

  And like that, we fall asleep with the lights still on—her fears fading, my thoughts racing, both of us hoping the electric bill doesn’t destroy what little comfort we’ve found.

  MIYU

  Counting my savings, I managed to rent the first month of the shop. I told Rika to start preparing it however she liked, giving her two days before the official opening.

  Of course, that was just an excuse.

  I can’t let her come with me into the caves—not after that day.

  There’s a tavern nearby, a good place to gather information about the location mentioned in the book. It might be crucial.

  What I find there is… amusing. Rumors say old heroes, before their deaths, hid treasures in places like caves rather than in the dungeons themselves. If that’s true, this might be my best chance—not only to find the rare rocks Rika wants, but maybe something even rarer.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  The cave starts narrow but expands into a network of wide tunnels. I explore a few small ones before focusing on the broader passage, hoping it leads to something worthwhile.

  My helmet and magnetic boots glow faintly, lighting up the jagged walls. Shadows stretch and twist with every step.

  “Rika would be dying of fear in this place,” I murmured.

  The air is freezing—I can see the mist of my breath. But there’s no sign of any precious stones yet.

  Step.

  Step.

  As I go deeper, the tunnel opens into a larger System. The air fills with squeaks and fluttering wings—rats and bats disturbed by my presence.

  “This is going to take forever alone,” I mutter. The treasures aren’t lying around in plain sight. Maybe they’re buried… but that would be useless for someone like me.

  Then, a mouse darts past, disappearing into a narrow crack in the wall.

  “What if… the treasures are in the walls?” I whisper.

  An idea sparks.

  “Rodents! Come to me!”

  To my surprise, ten rats appear from the shadows—some cautious, some eager.

  “Alright, listen closely. I need you to find shiny rocks—gems. If you see anything glowing or sparkling, bring it to me!”

  They scatter, squeaking as they vanish into the dark. Minutes later, three return, each carrying a tiny gemstone.

  I frown. “Where are the others? Did my command wear off?”

  No… that shouldn’t happen. My command skill doesn’t fade over time—maybe distance weakens it.

  Before I can check, something glimmers in the rats’ paws. Small yellow stones, warm and translucent like honey.

  “Hmm… based on the book…” I mutter, thinking hard. “Citrine.”

  Good enough. “Keep going, find more!”

  The rats dash off again. But after a few minutes, only one returns—trembling, with patches of fur missing and tiny scratches along its back.

  My gut tightens. Something’s hunting them.

  “Not good,” I whisper. “Four gems won’t be enough…”

  Without much more Rats I enter deeper to find some more but the deeper I go the scarcity increases. Then it will depend on my work on this rat.

  I’m about to send the last rat again when something catches my eye—a faint shimmer deeper inside. The tunnel leads into a wider stone chamber. The floor looks unnaturally smooth, almost polished. No debris. No dust.

  It feels… wrong. Like someone—or something—has been maintaining it.

  My instincts scream to turn back, but curiosity drags me forward.

  Step.

  Step.

  My own footsteps echo unnaturally loud in the silence. The temperature drops sharply, colder than before.

  I step into the room—

  —and the air shifts. My skin prickles.

  Something moves. Fast. Watching. Angry.

  I freeze, every muscle tense. Slowly, I reach for my pickaxe… then stop myself.

  Starting a fight in the dark, against something unseen, is the worst thing I could do.

  There’s no point in unnecessary bloodshed, especially when I don’t even know the enemy’s strength or intentions.

  First, I need information.

  The creature moves in erratic zigzags along the spikes on the ceiling, its speed almost blinding. I catch fleeting glimpses of its form—a shifting blur against the darkness—but its sheer velocity sends a chill down my spine.

  Judging by its speed, I estimate it isn’t too large—maybe about my size. That gives me a sliver of confidence. If it’s roughly equal in size, maybe I can intimidate it. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.

  In a flash, it lunges at me directly with a kick. I barely dodge, centimeters from disaster. The shockwaves from the impact crack the stone floor beneath me. Every sharp turn sends fragments of the spiked branches crashing to the floor, the noise echoing endlessly through the chamber. The air is thick with chaos and tension.

  It doesn’t pause. With precise, fluid motion, it darts back to the ceiling spikes and repeats its assault. Each pass is faster than the last, as if its stamina is endless.

  “You!!!” I mutter under my breath, heart pounding. One hit like that and I could lose a leg.

  Its movements falter slightly, its rhythm unfocused for a second.

  “Huh?”

  Maybe it’s just my imagination. I can’t let my mind play tricks on me.

  I have to think, analyze, and predict—every move could be fatal if I get distracted.

  But it is hard. The sounds it makes when it kicks the ground blends with the time it reaches the spikes up tall making it hard when the next strike will come.

  The creature cleverly masks its actual pattern putting me at a disadvantage.

  To this creature, I am the prey—especially if I am only evading its attacks.

  No. I have to be the hunter. That’s the least I can do.

  “YOU!!” I scream, a roar ripping from my throat. My voice hurts, but it’s him or me.

  To my surprise, the creature falters. With an almost comical squeak, it tumbles to the floor before darting off into the shadows.

  “Squeak?” I blink, stunned. What just happened?

  Without letting time slip, the creature flips backward in a multiple leap, putting four meters of distance between us.

  Before I can process it, an impulse hits me and decides to try my luck.

  “Come here!” I command, my voice carrying the authority that comes naturally with my skill.

  It confirms my guess—this creature is a rodent. A rodent? That’s… expected. But what comes next completely isn’t.

  Instead of a monstrous rat, a girl emerges from the darkness, crawling on all fours, covered in dirt. I freeze, blinking as my mind scrambles to process what I see.

  She wears barely anything at all. I immediately try to look away, but quickly adjust my helmet light, angling it neutrally to avoid… complications.

  Scars mark her shoulders and torso—battle wounds, perhaps—telling stories I can only guess at.

  Long black hair falls wildly around her face, partially hiding her features. Her black eyes glimmer in the dim light, primal, untamed, predatory. Dirt streaks across her skin, giving her an aura of raw, wild energy.

  A long tail flicks behind her, sinuous and smooth. Her hair brushes her figure, hinting at untamed wildness.

  Her nails—or claws—are sharp and dangerous, glinting as they flex with each deliberate movement. When she parts her lips, I glimpse long, pronounced canines—predatory, almost mesmerizing.

  Rat girl? Or Wolf girl? Biology has a weird taste of humor.

  And then… those ears. Funny, almost comical, poking through the wild hair. Half-human, half-animal… a bizarre, dangerous, yet strangely endearing being.

  The girl glared at me, her eyes filled with aggression. Despite her hostility, it seems my command is enough to make her obey. She stands in front of me, her posture tense, like a cornered animal.

  The closer she is, the more my impulse wants to take it over, like something primal within me wants to be free.

  "Control yourself, Daryn..." I mutter under my breath, trying to suppress the surge of thoughts rushing through my mind. I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to calm down.

  I have to be careful here. As curious as I am about this girl, I can’t let my instincts take over.

  This could end badly if I act recklessly. "Don’t let your lower instincts take over," I remind myself, repeating it like a mantra.

  “Hello, what is your name?” I ask, trying to break the silence and gain some understanding of the creature before me.

  She doesn’t respond with words but instead lets out a sharp, aggressive squeak, her large mouse-like ears twitching in irritation. It is clear she is feeling threatened based on her body language. Her eyes narrowed, her body tense, like a predator sizing me up because she feels like prey but has to tough it up.

  I always have been hoping for a waifu in the streets with a big unique heroine, but this wild, savage girl with the mindset of a mouse is certainly not what I’d expected. Should I keep her? That question gnaws at my thoughts,

  “No, no ,no”

  I have to admit it isn’t the right decision.

  "Actually, you know what…. no" I mutter to myself. Keeping her would bring a ton of complications—her wild nature, the potential chaos in the apartment. I already had Rika to deal with. Adding another responsibility to the pile didn’t seem like a good idea.

  "Sorry, creature. You can be free."

  To my surprise, the girl’s eyes soften, the aggression draining from her expression. My command affects her more than I think.

  Before I can even take a breath of relief, the ground trembles beneath me, throwing me off balance. Out of the shadows, a massive centipede emerges, its body writhing and twisting in the dim light. Its legs are thick and monstrous, each impaled with several dead rats.

  The centipede hisses, locking its attention on the rat girl.

  Her expression isn’t one of submission, but I can see a flicker of terror. These two are enemies—they’re competing for this place. I might be food to the centipede, but the rat girl might be the only rival it has left.

  She backs away on all fours, only a few centimeters at a time, baring her teeth in anger, her eyes calculating, measuring her enemy.

  The centipede doesn’t feel threatened. It advances, confident in its size advantage. Then it spits venom from its mouth.

  Reacting on instinct, I lunge forward and shove her out of the way. Still, the venom strikes my leg. My boot absorbs most of it, but a burning sensation spreads quickly. I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the pain.

  “Go!” I shout. The rat girl scrambles on all fours, disappearing into the shadows with her small, agile form.

  I glance down at my leg. Fire courses through it.

  The centipede charges toward me, mouth snapping open to reveal jagged, deadly teeth. I reach for my pickaxe and steel myself.

  It’s quick—too quick. I pivot, relying on my magnetic boots to maneuver. It isn’t perfect, but it’s enough to dodge its first strike; the massive legs barely miss me.

  Then it lunges again, coiling and stretching to impale me. My heart races. There’s no time to dodge. With the last of my strength, I twist my body and thrust my pickaxe toward its head. The strike lands, but its exoskeleton is unbelievably tough. It barely staggers.

  I curse under my breath, retreating just in time to avoid another venomous spit. My pickaxe slips from my grasp in the scuffle, leaving me weaponless for a moment.

  This isn’t going to be easy. The centipede is relentless, and my injured leg slows me down. Its venomous spits miss me by mere inches.

  In a flash, I activate my magnetic boot I have left and shoot off like a bullet, gliding across the ground. I evade its attacks, but I know it won’t be long before it gives chase.

  “It’s not enough speed!” I mutter, pressing forward into the unknown. But good news: the centipede seems to tire. I hear the ground shaking as it retreats into the earth.

  I slow down, taking a breath. “Good. It’s going back underground.” I wipe sweat from my brow. “I can leave now and return tomorrow.”

  But as I struggle to make my way out, I realize I’m lost in the labyrinthine tunnels.

  “Damn…”

  My leg throbs from the venom, a dull ache turning sharper with every step.

  One of my boots is half-melted, sparks flickering as the circuits short out. I try to remove it, but with the main circuit destroyed, it won’t budge—its rigid frame trapping my injured leg. The pain worsens by the second, and a cold worry creeps in. I have no idea where the exit is anymore.

  “Hehe, I didn’t even pay fully for these boots,” I mutter, trying to ease the tension with a half-joke in the darkness.

  Then I hear it—another earth-shattering explosion. Something massive erupts from the ground, echoing just like the centipede. It seems far away, but the reverberations ripple through the tunnels, making it impossible to judge the distance.

  I grit my teeth. If that thing finds me again, I won’t stand a chance in my current condition. I have to recover—fast.

  Desperate, I grab some random rocks from the floor and grind them between my teeth. At least I can bite them without breaking my teeth, and my HP ticks up. It’s crude, but it works.

  The sounds die down shortly after.

  “Better to move on, just in case,” I mutter. “Once I reach a safe spot, I’ll take a proper break.”

  Minutes pass. The tunnels stretch endlessly—desolate rock passages in every direction. My breathing steadies as I sink against the wall, taking a much-needed rest.

  Rika must be worried If don’t return by the night.

  “What kind of older brother would I be if I left my sister alone?” I smirk, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

  The silence is suffocating, amplifying my unease. It’s not panic, just restless anxiety. Darkness stretches endlessly to my left and right, the unknown lurking just beyond sight.

  “I survived once. This is no different,” I mutter, forcing confidence into my voice. “These dark places… they’re like a second home to me.”

  I try to think positively and stay calm, but hunger gnaws at me.

  “Sadly, I can’t eat the bag of rocks I collected—or Rika would kill me,” I chuckle.

  Breath.

  Breath.

  I stay like this for a while, sitting on the floor, letting only my helmet’s light cut through the darkness.

  Step.

  Step.

  Slow and careful, making as little sound as possible. I don’t want to attract anything else.

  Step.

  Step.

  “Huh?”

  I spot her—the rat girl again—huddled in a corner, visibly shaken. Bruises mar her body; she barely survived the centipede encounter.

  “Hey,” I call softly. She doesn’t move, doesn’t squeak in rage like before. Her eyes show clear mistrust.

  The centipede hit her harder than I realized.

  Her body trembles, small shivers running down her arms as she clutches herself tightly. The faint scratches on her skin glisten with traces of blood, and her lips are pale, almost quivering.

  She pulls her knees close and hugs herself like a frightened stray seeking warmth—quiet, fragile, and trying not to fall apart.

  I sigh and take off my jacket, walking over. “Put this on,” I say, trying to offer some comfort.

  She hesitates, but her sharp eyes quickly return. The look says she’s ready to attack if necessary.

  I force my order gently. The jacket isn’t a solution, but at least it keeps her warm.

  She drapes it over her shoulders, hiding the wounds on her body. She doesn’t speak, but her eyes make it clear: she isn’t interested in talking. Fear lingers, and I can’t blame her—a giant, venomous centipede just tried to kill us.

  I sit beside her, but she deliberately shifts a few centimeters away, keeping her distance. Her sharp gaze sizes me up; she probably sees me as a neutral party rather than a true ally.

  But I have to take my chances—I can’t stay here.

  “Guide me to the exit,” I request.

  No response.

  She tries to refuse, hesitates… then finally gets up, moving low to the ground as if sensing the safest path. I follow, trusting her instincts.

  As we move, I can’t help but wonder.

  “Don’t you feel weird walking on all fours? Wouldn’t two legs be easier?”

  She doesn’t answer, eyes forward, focused on the path.

  Guilt gnaws at me for forcing her to help, but I can’t stay here.

  Finally, a glimmer of light cuts through the cracks in the ceiling. Only five meters away. We’re close to the exit.

  I pause, catching her expression. It’s like she doesn’t want to let go of me—or maybe that’s just what I want to believe. But this cave is dangerous, and I have to move.

  Before I can step forward, the ground trembles violently. My stomach drops.

  “No, not the thing again!”

  The centipede erupts from the floor, blocking the exit.

  Before it can strike, I swing my shovel hard at its head. The dull thud echoes through the cavern as the creature recoils, stunned. I swing again—once, twice, three times—but in one swift retaliatory strike, its massive leg smashes into my shovel, destroying it in a single hit.

  The centipede screeches and spits venom at me. Its aim is off, disoriented from the impacts, and I use the chance to dodge.

  The rat girl trembles beside me, clearly frightened, but this time she needs to focus.

  “Focus!” I shout. “We can win if we fight together!”

  I quickly assess her skills. The debris from the centipede’s thrashing leaves me only a brief glance at her abilities.

  Damn… there’s no time to waste. Her Command of Rodents won’t help here, but her Slash of Air might give us the edge.

  “Go around and get ready to use your air slash. I’ll distract it, and when I give the signal, you attack,” I instruct.

  She hesitates, then with a single simple nod, it darts into motion. Even without fully understanding, the shared danger becomes our language. She spins through the air, circling like a wheel.

  While she moves, I taunt the monster, waving my arms.

  “Hey, dirty centipede! Hungry?”

  It lunges at me with fury, and I narrowly dodge its venomous spit. Adjusting its aim, it swings again, and I kick at its lower body, trying to disorient it.

  Then, disaster. It swipes one massive leg, piercing the other boot with its tail. Panic surges—I’m suddenly exposed, stumbling across the cavern floor, like a plate served straight to the centipede.

  It’s not over. In this tiny cavern, the currents of air begin to swirl.

  I look up. A wheel of air forms—the rat girl rotates like a moon made of wind. The wheel grows with each passing second. At first, I thought it might be enough to hurt the centipede, but her skill keeps looping recollecting more air.

  If the centipede notices it, it’s over. She needs a little more time.

  “You monster!” I step forward, the pain in my leg easing for a moment. “I am Daryn, a future adventurer! You bet I am not going to die to a silly bug!”

  As the centipede turns toward me, I gulp. The size difference is ridiculous—I can’t even comprehend how unfair this is. But my father always said this is what adventurers face: monsters don’t play by the rules. If I can’t handle this, I’m not fit to be an adventurer.

  The centipede attacks in a frenzy, its legs piercing through the air like deadly spears. I weave through the strikes, barely escaping.

  I maintain a rhythm, but it’s not the angles that are the problem—it’s the pain in my leg from the venom.

  Without warning, one of my legs gives out. It gives a chance for the centipede’s strike to scratch my shoulder with a serious force that pushes me to the ground. I hit the ground hard, the impact echoing with a heavy thud.

  “It’s so cold… am I dying?” I gasp while I look at the ceiling.

  It’s not my body—it’s the environment. The air currents thicken, swirling around me. Breathing becomes difficult.

  The centipede stops the attacks; it might've felt the changes too.

  It is now or never.

  “Now!” I shout.

  The rat girl spins, her body twisting fluidly and stops at my command. A gust of wind erupts as she swings her leg, releasing her Slash of Air in a sharp, clean arc. The air slices through the centipede’s head like a hot knife through butter, severing it instantly.

  I stare, my mind racing to process it.

  The centipede twitches once, then collapses, its massive body hitting the floor with a thunderous crash.

  The rat girl pants heavily, trembling from the effort. She stands tall for a moment, then staggers slightly.

  “Haha,” I laugh nervously. It’s over.

  Despite her wild, unpredictable nature, she proves herself in battle.

  Before I can gather my thoughts, she collapses.

  “Damn… but I’m the one who did all the work,” I mutter. I rush to her side, my own leg still throbbing from the fight.

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  I didn’t want her to sleep on the cold stone floor, so I placed her head on my thighs. Romantic? No. My leg’s numb, my wound’s burning, and there’s monster goo everywhere. I’m basically a human pillow of pain.

  After what feels like an eternity, she finally stirs. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, and she glances at me with confusion and surprise.

  “You awake? Good. Finally, I can leave,” I mutter, trying to mask my discomfort. The gems I collected clink softly in my bag—my one reminder that at least something good came out of this nightmare.

  Then, out of nowhere, she pushes me away—eyes wide, not angry but startled.

  “What? I just wanted to make sure you were okay!” I say, half-panicked. “I even gathered more gems while you were out cold. That’s called multitasking, you know?”

  She doesn’t respond. Instead, she hesitantly steps closer, then she stays there for a moment and keeps advancing but taking her time. Her hand lifting as if to touch me… then freezing halfway.

  “What now?” I ask cautiously.

  Her eyes, usually so sharp and wild, soften. Her eyes scan me from head to toe, and then—without warning—she wipes dirt from my cheek.

  “Yeah, it was a tough fight,” I chuckle awkwardly, trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll, uh, take a shower later.”

  I can feel the weight of her stare. I bet I look terrible since I just crawled out of a battlefield—scratched, bruised, and still a little bloody.

  “This?” I grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry about it. We made it out alive, and that’s what counts.”

  Before I can even blink—bam. Her face is right in front of mine. Her breath brushes my skin. Then her lips press softly against mine.

  I freeze. My brain short-circuits. My heart forgets how to function. The world stops spinning.

  She pulls back just as fast.

  I’m left staring like a broken NPC. Did that just happen?

  “Dude…” I whisper to myself. Is it my otaku phase… over?

  She kissed me. The rat girl kissed me.

  My mouth opens, but words have officially quit their job. My brain is doing cartwheels trying to figure out what reality I’ve slipped into.

  “Hmmm… a rat kissed me,” I mumble. “Not even dinner first.”

  “Hello?”

  She kissed me. The rat girl kissed me.

  A rat girl kissed me

  A rat girl…

  Then the panic sets in. The germs. The bacteria. The ancient cave diseases. Oh gods, what if this is how I die? ‘Adventurer succumbs to prehistoric rat flu after brief moment of romance.’ Great epitaph.

  I’m mid-internal meltdown when I hear it—

  “Hello?”

  My eyes snap to her.

  “Umm, weird,” she says, tilting her head. “I thought that after we kissed, I’d be able to speak your language.”

  “Wait—what!?” I shout, brain exploding.

  Either I’ve finally lost it from blood loss, or this girl just spoke perfectly clear human language.

  She blinks innocently. “Hello? Human, right? Or… what species are you?”

  I stare at her, utterly done with life. “P-Please take me to the exit,” I stammer, because that’s the only functioning line left in my dialogue options.

  Without hesitation, she grabs my hand — tight — as she pulls me through the dark cavern.

  Her grip is surprisingly strong for someone with her characteristics, and the air feels heavy as my brain melts from confusion and embarrassment.

  When we finally reach the exit, the sunlight blinds me. I take a shaky breath and mutter, “Thanks for your help. I… I have to go.”

  I turn to leave, but she doesn’t let go. Her expression is playful — too playful.

  “Why are you following me?” I ask, already sensing the worst.

  She tilts her head, eyes wide with innocence.

  “You are my owner now.”

  I blink.

  Then blink again.

  “Owner?”

  She nods solemnly, as if she just said the most normal sentence in the world.

  I went into that cave looking for gems... and came out with a rat girl calling me her owner.

  My brain shuts down. My legs follow.

  I faint.

  When I wake, I’m back in my apartment. My leg is bandaged, and my soul feels bandaged too.

  “You awake?” Rika’s voice echoes from across the room. She’s sitting on a pile of boxes, arms crossed, wearing the same expression every teacher has when you say “I think I passed.”

  “Rika… did you do this?” I mumble, pointing at my leg.

  She shrugs, face faintly red. “Yeah. Learned some first aid from my mom. No need to amputate anything this time.”

  “Oh. Great. Always a good start to the day when ‘amputation’ comes up.”

  “Yeah, and don’t worry,” Rika says casually, arms crossed, tail swaying behind her. “I called your workplace and explained everything. You can stay in bed for a couple of days.”

  I freeze. Sweat immediately forms on my forehead.

  “You… did what?” I ask, voice cracking. “Who answered?”

  “Tenque.”

  My throat tightens. “Hahaha… Tenque,” I laugh nervously. “Did he—uh—say anything? He didn’t offend you, right?”

  Rika tilts her head with a sly grin. “No. I just told him about your situation, and he said it’s fine.”

  Tenque—the boss who once stared down a tiger without blinking—said it’s fine?

  I slowly glance up at Rika. She’s smiling sweetly, but the faint red shimmer of her aura flickers like wildfire. The air hums with quiet pressure, making my skin crawl.

  I sigh defeated thinking Tenque couldn’t handle rika so no one can.

  Feeling a little better I started to remember a few things from the cave, I looked around — no rat girl.

  “Did you… find me alone?” I ask carefully.

  Rika’s eyes soften for a second, then harden again. “Yes. And we need to talk.” She points at the bag I brought back. “You don’t need to go to the caves anymore.”

  “Ah? Why? I am fine”

  “Too dangerous,” she continues, her voice cracking just slightly. “You barely survived. But… thanks for doing this for the shop. But it is too risky, and is not worth it. If I-”

  “You what?”

  “Nothing! Just don’t do it!”

  I smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring back even more gems next time. Fifty-fifty split!”

  “Daryn,” she says, exasperated, “you are not made of steel.”

  “Relax, it’s just—AHHHHH!”

  “What now?!”

  From the corner my boots or what’s left of it, strangles my vision, wishing this was a nightmare.

  “My boots! They’re… they’re melting!”

  Rika sighs. “Yes, they’re malfunctioning. You still haven’t paid the full debt, genius.”

  This is it. My real nightmare isn’t monsters — it’s interest rates.

  “Anyway,” she continues, ignoring my suffering, “if you’re really going back, I’m coming with you next time.”

  “No.”

  “Huh? Why not?”

  “Because you’re taking care of the shop.”

  She grumbles but nods.

  When I summon the gem bag from my backpack skill, her eyes light up like a kid on their birthday. “What-Wow, that is a lot! We’re rich!” she shouts, spinning in circles. I can’t help but laugh.

  That night, I’m finally drifting off when—

  Something’s wrong.

  My instincts scream, and I open my eyes. The room is dim… and I can feel someone staring at me. The room is cold, the windows open suddenly, everything is matching.

  “Sorry owner but I couldn’t wait more outside people are looking me weird outside”

  “AHHHH!”

  Rika bolts upright and flips the lamp on. “WHAT IS THAT?! We’re calling pest control!”

  “Shhh! Rika!” I hissed. “Is late night, don’t wake the neighbors!”

  She glares at me. “There’s a rat in my room, Daryn!”

  “It’s not a rat! It’s a rat girl!”

  “Daryn, what is a rat girl doing here! In my apartment!”

  “First, is my apartment! Second she came because im her owner”

  That earns me a slap across the face.

  “You took advantage of her, didn’t you?! She’s here to claim you!”

  “WHAT?! No! She saved me!”

  Rika crosses her arms. “Uh-huh. Sure. You and a mystery naked girl alone in a cave, and nothing happened. You think I was born yesterday?”

  Before I can respond, the rat girl steps forward calmly. “Hello.”

  We both freeze.

  She blushes slightly and says, “My owner did not take advantage of me in any way.” Then, placing her hands on her cheeks, she adds softly, “Yet.”

  Rika’s face turns red with fury. “Yet?!” she takes a big breath “ You–” she tops mid sentence and covers her with her mantle

  I’m dead. This is how I die. Not by monster bite — by jealous human female.

  After a long, painful explanation, Rika finally stops threatening to call the guards.

  “So let me get this straight,” she says, pointing at me. “This idiot is your owner?”

  “Yes,” the rat girl says proudly. “I gained the title Follower. It boosts my critical hit rate by twenty percent while I have an owner.”

  Rika turns to me. “Did you just hear ‘critical hit rate’ and think, ‘Yup, I’m keeping her’?”

  I ignore her and check the rat girl’s stats. Level 7 already. And there’s a new skill in her arsenal:

  Collar of the Owner

  Effect: Establishes a contract through fluid exchange. Allows mutual language and thought communication.

  I stop breathing.

  “Fluid… exchange…”

  The kiss. Oh no.

  “Experience,” I whisper.

  “Experience?!” Rika explodes. “What does that even mean?!”

  “Nothing happened!” I wave my hands. “She saved me, that’s all!”

  Rika narrows her eyes. “And now she’s following you like a lovesick pet. Right.”

  Before I can respond, the rat girl nods happily. “Of course! He’s my owner. It’s a bond of the contract.”

  “This is so weird,” Rika groans, rubbing her temples. “Fine. But you’re buying her food and clothes. And if she breaks anything, you’re paying for it.”

  Surprisingly, she accepts the situation faster than I expected.

  “Thanks for understanding, Rika!” I say with a relieved grin.

  “I’m not comfortable with this,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “But I can’t just kick her out. Still—one condition.”

  “Sure, sure, what is it?”

  “She’ll be our personal assistant.”

  I blink. “You must be joking.”

  “Well, we needed more help around the house, right? Didn’t you say that yourself? Well, she’s here now.”

  “So what, you want to buy her a maid outfit or something?”

  “Huh? No!” Rika snaps, glaring at me. “She’s a girl, Daryn, not a property.”

  “But—you just said—”

  “Do you accept or not?”

  I sigh. I don’t even know how she keeps making rules in my apartment, but at this point, I don’t have the energy to argue.

  “Fine, as long as she’s safe here. Besides, I’m sick of washing your dishes.”

  “Royalty doesn’t wash dishes, Daryn,” she says proudly.

  I tug her cheek. “You’re not royalty.”

  “Idiots with monster fetishes,” she mutters under her breath, pouting as she rubs her cheek.

  The rat girl looks up at me sweetly. “Owner, why do you look sad?”

  “I’m not sad,” I say. “Just… realizing my life has turned into an RPG side quest.”

  She tilts her head. “What’s an RPG?”

  “Never mind that. You need a name.”

  “A… name?”

  “Yeah. You can’t just be ‘rat girl.’ How about… Miyu?”

  “Miyu…” she repeats softly, tail flicking. “I like it!” She hugs me tight, tail wrapping around my arm.

  Rika glares from her corner. “Miyu?! Really?”

  You got a problem with that?”

  “Yes,” she mutters. “It’s too cute.” she pouts while looking away

  I sigh in relief. “Okay, Miyu, welcome home. First rule — you need a shower.”

  Miyu blinks. “What’s a shower?”

  “Rika?” I call.

  “Why me?”

  “Because I can’t!”

  With an exaggerated groan, Rika drags Miyu toward the bathroom. “Come on, rodent. Time to learn modern hygiene.”

  “Rodent?” Miyu echoes, confused.

  “Just go,” I say, laughing.

  As the door closes, I sink back into bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the next day.