This time, before the chair finally collapsed, Si'anke managed to jump onto the table in time.
Despite the lack of evidence,
he always felt that if he stood by the side of the table for too long, it might also topple over...
So after jumping onto the table, he didn't linger and went straight to the very center.
Looking at the three bowls of soup lined up beside him, Si'anke finally showed a look of hesitation.
"...Honestly, I don't want to choose any of them,"
Si'anke muttered.
But not choosing was not an option. The arrangement of the room obviously meant for him to pick a bowl of soup and drink it without saying anything.
For now, he could only trust the hints from the comments...
"...The smallest bowl, huh, I got it."
Si'anke gritted his teeth, picked up the bowl full of meat soup, and downed it in one go.
The next moment, a prompt appeared before his eyes:
[You have drained the meat soup: You have drained the meat soup. Whose meat is it?]
