ONE WEEK LATER
"H-hi ma'am. I'm Onna's friend."
"Hi! You must be Junior. Thank you for being a good friend with my son. He doesn't stop talking about how awesome you are."
"Mom!" I protest.
"No, Onna's been helping me a lot."
"Really? I thought he was only good for eating and sleeping."
"Mooom!" This is getting embarrassing.
"He's very talented at sleeping."
"Mom please."
"Alright, jeez."
"Anyways, come come. Lets eat."
Junior is practically salivating at the thought of food.
We go through the corridor where Junior spots the Octadecasphera.
It's one of my mother's prized possessions.
The glass surrounding the small marble like ball twists and morphs.
"What is that?" He asks my mom.
"That's an Octadecasphera. It freezes the thing inside in time. And what's inside is a piece of Laplace's ribcage." My mom answers.
"Oh god. The Demon King's ribcage?" He asks.
"Yep. It's value only increases over time. Great way to preserve wealth."
"What's it's value now?"
"About 100,000 Mal."
Junior's jaw drops.
"How is it even possible to get that much money?"
My mom laughs. "Through pain and suffering."
He can't get his eyes off it. That is, until my mother puts the food on his plate.
He wolfs the food down. "Wow. This food…..its so good!"
"Why thank you! I'm happy you like it." My mom looks proud.
"Eh?! No way! Mama's food can't be that good. I" My dad pops out of nowhere. "Tell me, Junior. Who's food is better? I cook better than her, right?"
Oh god, here comes the Clown Magic user.
"Uhh…both of you cook great food." He says. He looks at me, his eyes saying 'save me'.
No way, I'm enjoying this.
"That's a cop out. Who's food is better?" My mom says.
"Uuuuuhhh…uuhhhhh" Junior looks very uncomfortable.
He closes his eyes and points at my mom. "I like your cooking more."
My mom looks surprised. "Ha! In your face, papa!"
My dad looks shocked. "No way you said that."
Junior's face is beet red. "I told you, I didn't want to answer this question."
My dad's having a full-on mental breakdown. He sits in one corner and whispers, "I don't believe it, I don't believe itidonbelivitidonbelievit."
My mom looks at my dad triumphantly, "You're such a sore loser."
My dad starts whispering to himself, "
W̸̨̛̖̥̖͚̙͙̬̰̲̰͇̗̮̺̟͈̭͇̫̟̠͙̞͙͖͖̲̍̍̇̾̔̐͂̐̒͋ơ̷̧͖̰̭̤̺̠̟͓͓̗̟͍͉̳̱͉̱̩̫͓̰͎̒͆̔̏̽̀͋͂̐̌̊̏͑̉͌̌̀̉̀̐̌͂̂̅̑͘̚ȩ̸̧̢͎̺̥̠̮̬̭̩̥̲͚̻̝͉̝̼̱̬͛̑̀̃͆̇͌͊͐̅̐̔̾̌͊͂̽́͊͠͝͠͝͠͝ ̴̡̲̻͚͍̥̯͎̘̿͑̐̉̚ẗ̸͍͎̰͔̣͓̩́͋̿̓͛͑́̅͛̌̈̏̎̈͊̽́͌̉̒̂̈́o̵͉͎̍̈́̏͗̍̉̈͊̄̋̃͑̓͒̚͝ ̷̛̩̻̭͍̭̣̮̉̅́̋̍͌̾͐̏̽͂̓̂̀͐͐̆̔͊́̎́͐͆́́̎̔͌͝͝͠ͅy̸̨̡̢̫̼͚̙̘̝̩̫̲̗̝̠͈̭̫̤̟̞̭͓͓̣͎͒̅̓̄̈̓̋͆̊̅̾̾͛̆͌̀͋͌̆̑͐̕̚͘ô̵̧̥̖͖̙̞̞̥͇̝̈́̾̏͒͌̃͗͗͗̋͌͛̃̌̊̋̋͗͋̉̈́̊̏̏̉͂̀̑́͗̕͜ử̴̢̡̨͎̰̤̖̥̱͎̥̣̦̙͎̘̞̟̮̖̲̞̜̦̬͌̑͐̇̌͑̃̌̊̂͑̀̉̄̕͘͜,̸̠̝͚̘̼̭̝͓̼̄̊̎͗̊̂̅̓̌͘͘͠͝ ̴̛̯̪̏̍͊̄̂̅̉̾̆̅̊̊̓̚s̶̢̡̛̝͙̩̞̻̰͚̱̩̲̈́̏̇͆̄͒́͊̄̚͝c̷͙͚͍̠͈̎̂̊̈́͌͠r̵̟͇͎̘̱͔͎͓͎̟̼̗͍̬̜̩͓̘͕͈̝̘͉̼̲̝̳͑̉̉͛̊̊̔̑̎̋͐͝ͅͅi̷̘̓́̋͒̈̇̓͑̓̂̈́̈́̓͒͆̑̍́͆͂̄̍̏̈̅͝͠͝͝ͅb̸̡̧̨̛̘̟͚̬̤͎̮̗̩̥̻̮̲͕̰͍͍͚͇̘͓̓̾͛̊̇͌͗̀͋̆͒̎̕e̶̢̢̻̱͇̟͖̗͉̘͉̘̞̺͉̪̣̰͕̯̘̰̥̘̤͕̎̈́̓͌̐̿͐̈͘͜͜ͅͅͅͅś̵̡͔̺̝̺͓̤͚͉͕̙͎̹̘̲̜̗̯̳̺̟̥͔̣̱̬̘̦̋̈́̏͛̓͂̓͜͜ ̵̨̘͎̟̪̣̖͍̳̲͆̇̄̋͒̍͆̐̀̈́͌̀̂ḁ̷̛̠̭͎̼͖̣͎̘̭̘̙͉̃̉̏̃̽͊̉̇̋̑͌̄̆̂́͋͗͐̊͊͋̓͑̏̅͒̕̚͠͝n̵̡͓͕̦̪̳̝̹͕̦̼͙̝̜̫͙̝͖̫̭͓̾͛͊́̀̋̈́̾͋̆͐̒̈́ͅd̶̢̗̤̘̺̤̥̦̊͂̓̉̌̒̈́̅́͘̚̚͠ ̵̨̰̲̟̬͓̼̱̞̖̗̬͚̖̈́̓̾̈̈́̐͋͗͂̌͋̽̅͗͗̂̃̾̈͘̚P̷̛̺͓̺̱͖̣͈͚̭̙̭̟̭͓̳̭̹̗̽́͑͆͛̔́͛͑̈̆̐̔͂͊̋͑͛͒͌̊̉̚̚͝͝͝͠h̴̗̳͇͎͍̠̟̼̎́̿̎̕͝ͅå̵̡̧̧̢̡̺͎͎̪̩̬̲͍͖̮̻̈͌͑́͐͂̆̏̾̾̀͛͊̇͗̍͘͠͠r̵̢̧̛̙͇̬͉̮̖͖͎̙̝̝̳̲̰̻͊̌̄̾̈́̂̂̉͑͂̑́͐͆̋̎̅͒͑̕͝͝͠ǐ̵̼̪̟̟̏̋́̾̓͋̾͛̓͗̈́͆̅̌̿̔̆̐̉̒̓̌̒̉͂͂̔̓͌͝s̶̡̡̡̛̲͙̥̦̩̣͍͚͓̯̱̖̜͖͉̳͖̓̽͊̂̏̇͑̀͋̄̓́̌̍̀̇̓̀̚͝͠ͅḙ̵̡̻͇̮̳̲̳̣̯̙͎̩̭̫͎͉̭̅̕͜ȩ̶̧̨̢͍̖̩̺̲̠̰̰͕̜͚͚̣͍̰̥̯͈͍̘̻͖̲̬͚̪̀͂͊̃̍̾̚͘̕͝͠ṣ̸̡̡̢̬͖̱̤͈͎̘̼̯̰̫̤̘̰̼̻̳͓͈̣͖̻̩̲͈̯̄͘͜,̴̛̛̦̘̜̰̤͖̳̟͍͉̰̟̭͇͆̂̒̓̏͒͆̓̓̿͑̓̓̈̓̌͂̍̍̐̀͌̐̈́̾͆̚͝͝͝ͅ ̷̧̡̨̢̲̜̞̠̭̱̠͚̳̥͕̝̹̳͇̠͙̮̳͇̭̹̺̺̤̞̝̓͛̐̄̈̔̄͂̊̿̏̍̍̓͂͑̏̂̊̒̓̉̊̕̚͘͜͜͝h̴͓̉̄̓̃̒̐͋̚͝y̶̰̩̞͎͎͙͔̽̄͐͛̉̆̒͗̚̕ͅp̸͔̆ơ̴̲͓͑̔̇̆̑̏̓̕͘͠c̸̛̫̭̰̯̭͔̞͔̻͕̮͕̳̙̻̞̗͎͕̲̘̙̭͔̀̈́̑͛͒́̄̔́̇͌̎̅́͗̑͝r̴̡͓̖̘̟̩͚̺͚̬͇͕̰͔̞̞̟͍͓̗̣̟̭̺͚̬̘͕͕̘̪̥͐̎ͅi̵̢̧̛̯͍͙̻̦̬͖͓̜̤̭̙͇͍̱͓̮̗̱̹̩̰̭̦̭̠̒̑̿̿̓̈́͐̔̊̆̈́̽̒͋̍̊̇̎̃̋̈́͌̾̏̈́t̴̢̧̧̞̳͙͕̺̹̥̣̗̳̔̒̈́̂̀́͂̓̎͝ͅę̴̧̡̧̺̤̝͕̼͎͇̱̼͙͚̮̟̞̳̦͔̬̞̺͎̩̝͕͚̥̼́̉́̋́͑͗̾̀̀̄̈́̍͂̈͂̒̑͋̆̍͋̈́̏̄̽͜͝s̶̨͙̠͎̜̻͚̈́́̉̋̇!̸̻̯͉͙̼͖͎͔̻͉̜͖̝͍͕̗̻̈̋̿̽̑͗̆̄̐̓̎̅̌̈͑̑̂ͅ ̷̢̨̩̼̘̰̤̭͈̺͉̜͚͈̬̗͚̹̈͌̀͂̅̍̈́̎̈́̅͌̅̓͛̓̾̈̈́̆̋̊̈́̔̄̕͜͠͠͝͝͠F̴̡͎͕̜̳̟̼͙̬̬̯̠̞͎͊̔̓̀́͛̈́͗̄̅̒͛̽̓͘͘͜͜ò̶̡̡̮̙̱̘̘͈̮̘̙̩͕̮̜̼̳̩͕͉̙̓͐͜͜͝ŗ̶̬̘̳̞͈̳̹͎̝̺̰̖̮̟̪̘͈̫͉͕̺̪̙̗̺̺̣̟̝̯̠̏̀͗͗́̌̉̈́͑̈́̅̃̇̈͆̑̊̕͘͜ ̴̧̡̲̥̙̜͔̫̘̮̰̲͕̩͇͇͔̥͉̤͖̹̝̭̮̥̼̣̙̉̃͗͐ÿ̸̢̧̡̛̻̬̳̝̤͇̗̮͚̟̝͕̰̪̰̜̱̻̺́̽̍͋̀͊͐̓̓͐̋͋́͂͑̕͘̚͝ͅͅo̵̢̡̧̱͍̣̬̟̟̤̙͔̰̼͚̣̳̠̰͍͇͓͔͇̮̰̼̹̱̅̎̊̍̔̃̌͊̔̇̂͋́̐̄̿͊͛̍̓̓̀͘̚͠͝u̶̢̱̮̪̺̜̫̟̣̳͈̠͚̜̩̦̟͚̭͙̳̝̖͙̬͛̒̉͑̾̅̒̃͘͜͠ ̴̨̧̛͍̜͉̩̦̖̜͔̙͔̣͂̈́̈͂̾̉͂̾̂̓̆̍̇̏̐̏̽͂͆̚͘͝͝ç̵̢̨̜̥̣̻̼̙͎͚̥̞̙̹̖̝͕̲͔̜̲̼͍͖͓̦͙̦̳̽̌͌̑l̸͍̥͖̠̋̑̀̆̉̊͊̄̈́̉̏̋͌̚͝͝͠ȩ̶̢̪̜͍̥̹̞͇͙͍̼̱͍͔̼͍̻̪̥̯͍́͛͊̃̑̑̅͗̊̒̉̏̅͗̏̓̆̉̋͆̇́͐̑̓̿̆̕̚̚͜͠͝a̴̢̛̘͂̋̈́̄̑̐͑̀͒̀̈̐̋̀͝͝ņ̷̛̪̜̩̪̣̙̟̳͈̺̦̹̰̩̮͉̫̹͎̝̝̜̩̹̫̙͛͗̏͒̀͌͐͠ͅ ̸̰̯̲̠̺̒̈́̉̎̿̐͗̽̈́͛̀̍̔͛͒̽̑́̕͝͝͠t̷͓̖͈̞̣͓͖̑̌̇̒̂̈́̾̃͗̎͋̂͐͊͆̾̂̋̇̉̈́̂̒̽̉̎̎̑͘͘̕͠h̵̛͛̋̽̽̒̿͋̈̓̇̅̑́́̓̆̏̀̈̆̑̽̌̋͑̾̕̚͜͝͝͝ę̶̠̰͙̰͉̯̭̐̓̊͛͑̆̈́̃̾̽̋̂̕͝ ̷̧̛̛̤̦̘̖͚̱̫̦̮͈̞̖͖͍̤̱̓̀͋͗̈́͋͐̂͂̅̄͒̐̈́̏̀͒̄͂͛̈́̈́̉̉̏̀̈́̚͝͝͝ͅͅơ̵̻̻̝̫͍͕̜̯͍̹͙̗͐͐͋̽̎̃̈́͊̎̇͊̅́͆̂̈́͊̋̀̓͒̂͑̑͗́̃̋̕̚͠͠u̴̹̣̩̣͋̃̈́̈͋̿̄̏͆͗̋̈́͗͑̄̐͗̅̈́́̐̚̚͝t̶͈͈̺̲̲̖̺̜̣̘̳̞̺̖͎̘̹͔̺̪̗̥̅͌̔̐̔̽͗̊́̓̔̇̈́̀̋͆̊́̅̈́̑̕͜͝͝͠s̶̨̨̘͚̹̦͉͇̗̠̻̞̦̝̮̟̭͖͓̝͈̰̯̳̞̗͕̯̟̈́͛̌̄͑̎̓͒̈́͋̎̄̃͆͐̈̋͑̀̿̈̇͑̚͝͝ͅͅi̴̢̛̼̗̻̞̾̃̒̑̈̀͋̅̇̌̌̅̉̿̀̈́͘̚͘ḑ̷͎̞̹̳̖̟̟̯̯͙͚̩͖͙̪̮̟̀̀̌̍̿̓́͗̾͆̈́́̌́͌̑̅̈́̾͒̆͘͘̚͘͝͝͝e̴̛̗̯̋͋̾̆̉̔͛͆͊͛̕͝͝ ̶̨̢̨̨̧̛̮̼͕̟͍͖͍̜̺̖̖̖̪̱̼̍͋͊̉̉͛͌͌̀̆̒̈́̈͆͛̌̿̓̎̚͠ͅͅơ̷̱̺̭͕̰̗͇̘̗̩͉̙͎̬̺̱͇̇̎́̊̏̐̊́͆̽̈́͋̊̏̏̀̇͂̅̈́͐̔̀̆̿̀̆̋̚̕͝f̸̧̩̙̰̣̠̮̰͙̙̠̦̻̻͙͎̟̥͙͎͒͐́͜ͅͅ ̶̘̫̺̘̙̖̜̣̯͙͕͍̝̙͛̊̅͆͂̀͜͜ţ̸̢̖̺̝̬͇͚͉̖̖̹̟̮̭͈̯̫̖̈̒̃̽́̒̏ḧ̶̛̗͇̬͖̣̤͉̘̰̫̥͚̠́̈́̂̀̏͆̽̿̌̀̓̈́͗̈́̊̓͋̉̔̅̓͘͘͜͜ȩ̴͕̭͙̗̹͇͈͎͉̹̟͔̩̭͖̳̦̿̅̍̅͆̽̎́͋͊̑͊̌͗̃̕̕̚̚͝͝͠ ̴̙̞̹̼̆̎̄c̸̛̺͓̝͈̗͓̼̘̣̲̉̅͗̉̅̑̓̋͛́̍̀̋́́̾͗̅̿̒̔̾̆̈́̿̃́̀̆̕͝u̵͎̲̿͛̆̓̿͋͛͒̓̈́͂͂̌p̸̧̻̱̝͔̩̩̱̱͎͛̀͗̈́̌̎̔̓̆́͒̌́̄̓̽͛͆̕͝͝ ̴̛̼̤̳̯̙̹̜̳̱̠͓͇̞̖̉͌̊̆̚͘a̶̛̹͔͇̖̐͑͒̈͆͂͊̍̊̏̐̇̓̏͒͒̾͜ņ̶̡̬̻̗̯̦̜͎̬̰͂͂̇͐̉͂̒̐d̸̨̨̥͕̻͙͇̙̖̳̭̱͇̞̫̮̞̳̯̯̦̯͚̀̔̽̎͛̀͊͘͠ͅ ̶̧̛͎̭̥͙̯̪̫̬̮͐̾̊͗̇̊͆̒̐͑̇͋͒̄́̿̈̏́͆̽͝ͅǫ̵̧̺̼͙͔̝̳̩̘̪̣̩̗̙͉̣͈͈͉̘̜̳̞̤̲̪̩̜̀̅͐̑̔͗̑͛͛̀̂͂̏̈́̂͐̾̅̕̕͜͝ͅf̷̛̛͚͉̖͎̼͍͎͎̗̗͔̻͒̌̎͗̈̔̀͐͌̍̒̔̀̉̈́́̐̅͆̒͗́̀̀̇͐́͑͒͠͝ͅ ̷̧̡̡̛̠͕͔̘̬̜̺̗̳̱̯͎̤̹̣̯̩̬̅̄̈́̈́̽͂̉̊̓̃̌̿̋͆̈́̂̐̇̈͗̀̕͝t̶̨̨̟̥̩͉͓̘̯̤͉̲̺̟̟̙̝̠̟̹͎̹̪̬͊̾̓́͋̔̑͌̋͛͆̽͛͆̚̕͜͜͝͝ḩ̶̡̛̘̥̻̟͆͐̈̓̄̃̔̄͒̉̾͋̚̚͘͝͝͝e̸̛̛̤̥̠̬͈͎̪̻͇͓̭̘͙͈̥̩̟̹̱̳͇̠͎͓̰͕̻̙̘͋̾̇̀ͅͅ ̸̧̦͕̯̮̪̱͚̆̅̏̏͊̐̓̉̍̆̊̈́͊͐̊͊̐̿̃̏͆̂̀́̒͘͝͠d̵̡̨̧̻̣̩̠̤̬̰̦̣́̀̓̀͐̍̿̈́͋͊̐͐̄̇̑̂̂͊͜ͅi̴̢̧̨̤͍̫̪̖̤̠̞͕͈̣̩̰̠̜̫̰͓͊̄̒̎̾ș̷̜͉̲̪̑͑̓̄́̽̚͘͜͠ḧ̷̢̛̗̠̹͍̞̘̮͒͊͗̈͋̋́̍̿̊̐̈̀̀͂̕͠͝͝͠͝ͅͅ,̶̡͚̤̭̳̼̬̪̤̻̩̤̰͚̦̯͚̦̦̞̓̆̈́̅͂̍̌͘̚ ̸̡̢̤̭̲̝̖̳̠̱͚̱͎̼͍͕̲̪̗̥̼̜͎̤̐́̌̃̃̈́̉͑̈̀͗̐͋̾̉̌͊̕̚͜͜ͅb̴̨͔͓̗̖͚̤̼̥̝̙̃̆̒̊̅u̸̧͓̩̩̜̜̅̔͒̈́̾́̿͒̏̾̊̀̆̎͆͌̿̋̀͌̌͆̆̋͜͠͝t̷̨̢̡̛̤̭̙̱͕̳̪̬̞͙̝̬̥͚͕̩̪͚̥̠̗͎̱̹͔͊͛̅̽̃̂̑̊́̿͌̐̈́͛̍͘͜͝͝ ̸̧̡̫͍̹͈͓̩̯̺̭̲̘̤̳̩̘̻̼̙̗͙̞̦͌̾̽̍̐̎̃̽̓͋̌͜͝ͅḯ̵̩̺̰͉͍͎̙͇̜̳̹͔̃̑̈́̄̚n̸̗͓̅̂̐̈́̌́̿̇̋͘s̷̨̘̙͕͉̺͕͍͉̰͚͍̟̗͖̺͓͔͇̰͖͚͙̥͍͔̫͚̤̬̰̗̗̈́̈́̐̏̇̎͒̌̎͛̒͊̂͑į̴̨̫͔̙̫̱̥͓̞̘͚̭̳͈̉̈́̇̒̌͆̉̅͑̕ͅd̷̡̢̝͕̥͈̫̞͈̤̬̯̪͉̰̥͓͉̤̙̮̍͜͜e̸̱͙̔͐͛̀̏͒͒̒͌͑͑͆͌̿̽̑̆͗̈̆̏̈́̆̾̐͑͘͘͠͝ ̸̡̢̧̩̭̮̳̰̠̪͈͎̯̉̐̄͐́̋̾̍͘ͅͅt̴̢̨̨̖͇͓̻͉͖̺̲́̒́̑͛͐̄̒̾̉̌̑̚̚͝͝͠͠ͅḩ̸̛͓̆͑̉̄̄̔̓͗̽͛̆́̈́͂̐̑͛̋͗̊̊̀͐͗̓̿̕͠͝͝͝ȩ̶̛͙̤͍̼͈͈̗̪̟̯̰̮̰̎͋̓̇͗͐̍̐̋̓͐̈́͆̽̆͗̊͒͆͌̏͑̊͘͘͠͠ŷ̷̨̧̖̠̙̥̘͈̹̣̞̉̽̓̂ ̸̢͖̦̞͈̤̺̤͕̭̭̪̞͍͇̘͎̤̱͇͔̒̽͛͘͜͜͜͜ͅȁ̷̧̛͙̰͇̻͙̱̘͙̙̖̱͕̞̮͔̩̮͔̺̜̹̗̭̞̩̗͗̍͐̇̅̅̒̓̈́͐͆̑̈́̈́͊̍̕͘̕͝ͅŗ̷̧̢̨̳̼͈̬̱̱̤̦̖͈̳̮̱̲̣̟̫̺͇̞̺̣̜̗̪͕̦̭͚͆̐̿é̷̢̬͖̫̜̟̝̳͎̖͕̬̝̹̻̮͍̔́̅̈́͂͑͂͘͝ ̷̨̨̦̙͙̻̥͚͓͇̥͙̻̘͔̗̥̥͇̲̦̭͚̪̦̲͕͍̗̬͆́͐̈́̿̔͌̀̔̄̑̓̈́͑̊́̿̽͗̍̉̾̃͘͠͝͝͝ͅf̸̡̨̫͇̙̤̥̪͓͖̯̘̗̯̖̥͈̝̆̋̀́̓̿̐̓͌̐̓̔͌̊͊̽̓̍͘̚͘͜͝ù̶̡͎̲̜̼̩̔̄̈́̀͌͌̊͛̅̊̒̈̓̏̄͒̕̕͝͝ͅͅl̶̢̛͇̜̺̟̗̻̲͙̞͎͈̠̠͖͇̟͛͛́̆̌̾̀̎̂̊͑͆̈͋͊̈́̕̕͘͘͠ͅl̶͖̣̠̦͕̜͎̰͍͙̮̫͉̼̓̇̓͊̔͆̏͂͂̅͗̿͋͒̃͂̅̄͒̽͝͝ ̸̛̖̓͊̑̀͂͑̏̆͑͑̐̿̈́́̾͂̚̚͘ō̵̩̗̳̪͉͌̅͛̈́̚͜ͅf̷̨̢̢̡̛̟̼̺͍̘͚͚͍͎͈̪͇͖̙͈̰͔̮͕̯͈̣͙̒̄̎̋̏̿̆͗̾̏̑̽͌͌͒͛̕͜͝ͅ ̵̢̨̢̺̞̗̳͈̰̜̯̯͖̬̻͖͚͇̖̭͙͈̦͎̺̮̫͔̣̔̈̄͛̌̓̓͐͜͝ͅr̴͙̤̜͍̜̙͕͈̘̗̻̫̗̰͍̝̭͇̭̥̥̝͎͈͇͍̠͉̰̯̐͜ȍ̶̰̺̹̔́̉͘b̸̹̱̰̰̘̦̼͎͕̝̱̓̓̀̾̀̂͋͒̔̇̍͛̎͊̐̀͐͑̑̕̚͜͜͠͝ͅͅb̶̢̨̗̦̝̬̞̯̣̭͔̞̘̮͓̫̹͕̻̞̜͍͒̊̈́̓̀̈̈́͂̈́̀̔̍͂̑̋̽̈̀̓̿̔̔̃͆̆̄̕͘̚͝͝͝ę̴͙̫̮̭̍̍́͌͋̏̒̑͋͒̏͐̊̈́̉̔̔͋͗̄r̴̨̢̫̩͓̲̝̮͙̰͙͙͎̖̪̗̱̖̯̀̊̃͗̽́͂̓͒́̾͝ͅy̷̨̛̛͙̼͍͍̜̰̙͕͚͇̦̯̹͍̘͊̒̃̇̐̂̔̈́̃̅̊̔͐̎̑̄͊́́͗̅̋̒̽̐̒̊̕̚͜͝ ̷̨̧̧̨̢̱̘̠̲̰̱͖̤͇̱͇͈̟̭̹̝̫̹̻̩̳̖͈͔͍̝͎͑͆͊̎̆̈̔͜͝a̵̡͕̗̘̩̦̙̻̻͍̭̺͎̘͈̹͓̯̯͙͕̲̳̱͓͌̃͗̆͝ń̵̡̛̬̝̣͉͍͍̳̞̯̟̬̭̝͓̤̑̀͂̒̑͊̐̃͛̉̃̈́͘͜͜͝͝ͅḑ̷̳̥̖̘̲̤̗̲̗̭̱̦̞͎̲͍̹̹͎̱͉̻̖̭̬̣̗̭̆͐̊̉̾̿̊̓̔͗̾̓̊̽͑̂̑͋̚̚̕͜ͅ ̷̧̧̰̺̥̜̦̙̟͔̙̘̭̰͚̜̠͚̐͆͑̀̎̈̿̓̏̏́͌̈́̍̈́̄͒̓̇̍͑̎͌̚̚̚͘͘̚͜͠͠͝s̸̡̨͚̖̲̪͖̣̱͎̤̼͙̥̣̯̥̟̿̈̽̇̈́̾̓̓̐̂̆̀͜͝ͅͅę̶̧̭̲̥͇̼̫̲͇͍̬̣̺̾̈̔̒ͅl̵̩̣͚̺̥̠͕̩̞̣̼͔̗͈͔̰͙̥̜̼͍͚̗̜̳̬̉ͅͅf̴̨̨̡̢̗͕̰̼̮͚̝͚̤̝̲̭̞̠̮̺̝̦̽̎͒͑̇͜ͅͅ-̴̧̟̳͙͙̮̯̿̌̈̿͌̈́̀̇̂̂̽̔̽̎͐̈́̊͛̔͒͑̓́̈́̀͒̓́̈́͌͝͝͝i̴̧̨̫̰̳̜͓̼͇̣͕̫̖͈̦̥̬͉̟̲̮̩͕̬͓̲͕̜̗̳̜̗͎͒̎̿̐̌̿͝ņ̴̨͙̲̮͖̟̯̳̩͇̥̱̝͈̝͚͙̰̘̜̦̩̼̖̥̙̣̓̾̒͋͊͗̾̂̒͜͜͜͠͝d̸̨̢̢̖̲̩̥̱̼͕͖̏͒́̐̐̐̊̿̐́̃ư̵̢̧̛̛̞̭̯̞͚͍̠̺̤̫̓͆̂̉̃̍̈́͆̓̋̋̀̑̾̊̄̓̾̈́̍̾̽͋̒̃̕͝l̴̢̢̻̘̻̫̜͎͖̲͍̬̫̪̯̪̩̩͔̤̻̫̤͚̑͌̐̋̈́̔́̊͋̎̉́̈́̔͌͋̽̊̈̍̈̕͝͝ͅģ̸̢̧̨̛͕̹̞͈̝̣̘̺̣͉͇̲͓̞̲̪̦͊̆͂̈́̓̀̈́̊̄͆͐̇̆̒̑̓͂́́̾͘ͅë̶̡̻̙̫͇̟̙̺̞́̎̓͆̀̒̀͐̄̇̆̉̂̽̈́͆̈̓̀̃̑͗͗́̓̊͆̚̚͠n̴̢̛̬̯̜͚͍̳͙̙̬̖̠͚̿͌̓͂̔̇͒ͅç̶̢̢͉̞̲̜͖͓̼̦̘̦̟̞̹͍̳̙̹̲͍͔͖̯̫͛͋͋̈́̾͐̉̄́̇̀̃͆͂̎̈̊̚͘͜͝ě̴̡̨̡̡̺̪̩̠̙̖̤̗͉̳̬̪̭̲̩͑͆̓͛̃̏̌̅̒̔̉̈́̓͒̕̚͘͠͝͠ͅͅ.̷̛͎̩͕̦̐̋̓͂̑̈̓̾̎͒̊̌́̐̄̇͊̓̇́
̸̨̡̛̭̼̬͍̠͎̤̩͉̙̫͚̟̀́͛̈̓͑̌͑͂͆̋́̿̉̏͘̕̚͝
"
HEY, WHY ARE YOU SUMMONING SATAN? HE JUST LIKED MOM'S COOKING MORE!
My mom's old self is starting to show. She's stopped acting strict.
My dad grumpily answered. "After you get bowel issues tomorrow thanks to this woman's cooking, you'll understand why my cooking is better."
My mom looks shocked "No way you just said that."
"I'm going to sleep." My dad leaves, significantly more depressed than when he came here.
Junior looks uncomfortable as hell. "I'm….I.."
"Don't worry about him. He'll forget about it when he wakes up tomorrow." My mom reassures him.
"O-Okay."
He finishes the rest of the food very happily.
"That was really tasty. Thank you for the food."
"No problem." My mom replies.
"Alright. I'll be on my way, then."
"Okay. Onna, see him out."
"'Kay. Let's go." I walk him out of the house.
"You live like this every day?" He asks me in awe.
I feel ashamed for some reason.
"Yeah."
"Cherish it, dude. You're living a great life." He sounds a bit sad.
"Thanks."
We're now standing outside the house.
"So…..see you later?" He asks.
"You'll see me everyday. We'll play ball and learn magic tomorrow." I assure him.
I just learnt that he tends to blush when I say something heartfelt to him and I find it adorable, so I tell him something heartfelt everyday before we leave just to watch me blush and call me an idiot.
"By the way, thank you." I tell him.
"What for?" he asks.
"For being such a great friend." I reply.
He's gonna blush and call me an idiot. Wait for it.
He blushes. "idiot." He whispers and leaves walks out.
See? I told you.
He looks back and waves 'bye' at me.
I wave back.
I hope he's doing alright.
Junior's POV
The things that idiot says just before we leave.
Don't act like you care for me, Onna. But I'll be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.
He just likes getting me flustered.
I should probably tell him that I'm actually a girl soon.
I walk, feeling full, to my home. My dad told me he's gone to bargain about his huge debt. He won't be home today, thankfully.
But things have been going better at home.
My dad is starting to show that he actually does care for me.
I know that Onna doesn't care. He's even said that he only hangs out with me because it makes him happy. He's very good at acting like he does care about me, though.
At least my dad cares about me. As long as one person cares for me, I'll be happy.
I go home and lay down. Finally, some peace. I can dream off into dreamworld like this….
BANG
I wake up and see my dad fall on the floor, blood trickling from his forehead. His face looks messed up. "Where's the girl?" Someone outside the door asks my dad.
"She's here." My dad points at me. "Take her. She'll be able to entertain the chief"
Three muscular men grab me and drag me out of the house.
"Wait, wait, wait. What's going on?"
The men don't reply.
I start screaming, and the men clamp my mouth shut.
They walk out of the house without consulting with my dad.
I look at my dad. 'help me, dad.' I try and signal to him, but he seems to avoid looking at me.
The three men keep walking and just carry me.
"Wait." The fat man says "Are we just going to….carry her for half a mile like this? This is weird."
"Trust me, this is how you do it. You're new to kidnapping kids. Nobody expects people to
kidnap kids in broad day-I mean-night light. Plus, we're doing this for the chief. What are the witnesses gonna do, complain to the chief?" The tall guy speaks.
"I don't really like my new job, man. I saw a job for 'child kidnapper' on the public board and enrolled as a joke, but I didn't know it was legit."
"Yeah. I failed the Child Stealing Proficiency Test 3 times. Keep forgetting that we have to put sleeping pills and not chloroform in lollipops. I lost like 15 marks because of that." Tall Guy says.
"I failed the interview round for not dressing up professionally." Fat Guy says.
"What about you, senpai?" Fat Guy asks the third guy.
"Started off as an intern from the Cock Tribe, but the Chief liked me so much that he let me stay." The third guy with gold chains said. "I don't like this job either. Trash like this poor girl's dad give their kids to trash like the Chief. But it pays well, so I don't really mind."
The three of them become silent.
"It's getting tiring holding her mouth shut. She's become limp, so we can let her go, right?"
"If she won't scream. You won't scream, right girl?"
I stay silent to show them that I'm docile.
He takes his hand from covering my mouth.
"Sorry kid, but your dad owes the Chief big time." Tall Man replies
I'm shivering from the fear, but I manage to ask, "How-how much?"
"70,000 Mal."
Of course my dad and I can't pay the money back.
"What's going to happen to me?" I ask.
"The Chief is going to do some naughty things with you, and if he likes it he'll keep you as his pet. He just won't let you leave his basement, but hey, on the bright side, the room will be bigger than they house you're living in."
"If-if he doesn't?"
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. He won't-"
"She deserves to know." Chain guy says. "He'll kill you. You might tell everyone about the Chief's little hobbies and that'll ruin his reputation. Which is weird, since half the town already knows about his child addiction. I'm sorry, kid. But its your dad's fault."
I suddenly find it hard to breathe.
I'm either going to be a sex slave and never leave, or die.
Oh god. I start hyperventilating. I can't.
"Please." I beg them. "Please, please let me go." I remember Onna and the cave. "I'll pay the money in about half a year."
"How?" Fat Guy asks me.
"I have Metal Magic. I just started selling Gold." I tell him.
"Hmmm.. you should have started earlier, kid. I'm sorry. You're the Chief's property now."
"When does the Chief need money by?" I ask.
"By midnight it should be in our hands." Tall Man replies.
"What time is it now?" I ask.
"Half an hour before midnight." Chain Man replies.
I feel sick. I want to vomit. There's no hope.
"Please, can I vomit?" I ask them.
"You poor kid." Chains replies. "Of course."
They set me down and I vomit all the food I ate at Onna's House.
If only I could ask them for help. If only…..
The Octa-whatever it's name is! It's worth 100k Mal.
"Umm..what about a piece of Laplace's rib cage?" I ask.
"What?" Fat Guy asks.
"I know someone who has it. They will give it to me." I say.
"Hmm…Laplace's ribcage piece will sell for a lot. It can definitely cover the money. But I'm sorry kid, it's too late now."
"Please." I beg them. "I'll get you the ribcage before midnight. I promise. If I don't, the Chief can rape, defile and abuse me in any way we wants."
"Well, he always does that to every kid. But sorry kid. No time." Fat Guy says.
My legs give way.
Is that it?
Tears well up in my eyes. My future. The dreams I had of not having to worry about anyone beating me.
Every moment of my life was spent with worry.
I just want to spend one moment of my life without worrying about anything that will happen to me.
Why did I even think my dad-
"I think we give her a chance." Chains says.
"I think so too." Tall says. "She seems like she deserves a good life. Well...every kid does, to be honest."
"Where is the house, kid?" Chains asks.
Hope?
Can I do it?
I point the way. I can't move my legs from the stress.
"There's only about twenty minutes left. We'll take you there.
But be warned. If we don't reach there in time, or if you give us the ribcage even one minute past midnight, we'll take you along with the ribcage."
I'm going to steal the ribcage, and blame it on Onna if I get caught. This plan is probably not going to work, but I have nothing to lose.
My dad was right about one thing. I really am too selfish to deserve care.
I am trash.
End of Junior's POV
"You should really go to sleep." My mom says.
"A few more minutes, mom." I say. I don't feel like sleeping yet. I ate too much food. My stomach feels bloated now."
"Okay, I'll stay with you." My mom sits on the sofa with me.
….
We sit together silently. Doing nothing.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Who could this be?" My mom asks.
"Dunno." I say.
"Open the door, lazy." My mom lightly hits me on the back.
I sigh, and open the door.
It's raining heavily.
Junior is standing outside, wet. Why the hell is he here at this time?