Blame v2c7

Just looking at what Cheche was wearing now—a shirt with a knit layer over it, ending with a cardigan. Hips had sent all kinds of thick winter outerwear like padded jumpers and fur coats, but it was questionable whether there would ever be an occasion to take them out of the dressing room.

If Cheche was like this, Evil’s case ended with just a light shirt. Even in that outfit he grumbled about being hot but never said anything about lowering the temperature.

Cheche knew Evil was being considerate of him.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Drink up. I went through the trouble of peeling the shrimp and you couldn’t even eat half.”

Evil sat crookedly with his chin propped on the table, watching. Cheche lowered his eyes. Coincidentally, his stomach was full right now and he’d been about to put down the cup.

Having grown up on battlefields, Cheche was by no means oblivious. Evil kept being considerate of him. To the point where James, who’d been with him for so long, made that shocked face… continuously. He didn’t want to upset his mood. Even though he absolutely wasn’t the type to be considerate of others, he was suppressing his temper and showing this consideration.

“…Director, you have some too.”

After deliberating, Cheche held out the juice with its blend of blue and red colors to Evil.

Evil’s red eyes curved.

“You’re full so you’re giving it to me, right?”

“It’s delicious.”

“I’m not falling for it.”

“Really.”

Cheche held out the juice and even leaned his upper body toward Evil. Evil inhaled and pulled his chair back. Cheche’s ashen hair swayed softly. Beneath long, dense eyelashes, his golden eyes were like a reed field swaying in the wind under sunset. The flustered youth was reflected in Cheche’s pupils. The youth averted his gaze and reddened his cheeks.

“F…ine, give it here.”

Evil snatched the glass and gulped it down all at once like drinking water.

“What’s good about this! It’s just sweet.”

“I thought it was delicious.”

“Shut up, fuck. I know you were full and passed it to me. It doesn’t even taste good, damn it….”

Evil roughly wiped the moisture from his lips with a tissue. His face was still flushed.

“You always tell me to eat a lot but you don’t even eat dessert, Director.”

“Are you kidding? I ate five bowls of the main course.”

“You didn’t eat dessert.”

“…It doesn’t taste good. You hurry up and eat that cake.”

Evil muttered bluntly.

“You must like sweets.”

At that murmur, Cheche looked down at the cake slice he’d taken one bite of and pondered for a moment.

I like sweets? Thinking back on everything Evil had taken him to eat this and that, it seemed so.

This shouldn’t be.

It shouldn’t exist. There should be no such thing as delicious food in the world. Even if everyone in the world eats fragrant, delicious cooking, I alone must never enjoy it.

‘I don’t like sweets.’

Cheche wasn’t shameless enough to deny it like that. Looking at the sweet cake slice and all the shrimp he’d eaten, it was obvious.

Bitterness rose up his throat. He wanted to vomit it all out.

“Hey, hey.”

Just then Evil clicked his tongue and waved his hand in front of Cheche’s face.

“Why does your expression turn shitty like someone who lost their country again?”

“…I’m full so I don’t want to eat anymore.”

“Yeah, fine. Do what you want.”

After trying to make him eat until he burst, Evil readily allowed Cheche to put down his fork. On the cleanly cleared table, Cheche returned to his usual indifferent face.

Evil, who’d been staring quietly, threw a pile of documents at Cheche. They were Soul Aura User organizations that James had selected.

“If you’re done stuffing yourself, look at these and choose.”

Though Cheche was fluent in conversation, reading papers densely filled with foreign language was somewhat difficult. While Cheche read steadily and slowly, Evil sat crookedly and waited.

James anxiously watched for cues.

He’s not rushing him to read faster. That impatient person.

Though he should be used to that temper making exceptions for Cheche by now, it was still freshly surprising. Allowing questions to be asked twice, peeling shrimp shells, waiting patiently while he read through all the documents.

Like James, Cheche also felt it. Evil was gathering his patience (though his fingers were rapidly tapping on the table) to wait for him. Cheche calmly read through all the documents. The moment Cheche’s eyes reached the last sentence, the last word of the last page of documents, Evil opened his mouth.

“Which one do you want to do? Choose quickly.”

“Won’t I be working as your secretary, Director?”

“Of course. You’ll accompany me as a Soul Aura User to assist me. This is separate from that.”

“If it’s not absolutely necessary, I don’t want to do it.”

“If I say do it, you do it… You don’t have a choice.”

Evil frowned. Cheche wanted to reciprocate Evil’s consideration.

“Then I’ll do the jewelry crafting.”

“Ah, Luzem. You were totally interested in this last time. Is it because it seems like you can make a lot of money?”

“Can I make a lot?”

Cheche tilted his head.

“If it’s not for money, why would you do this?”

“Because the gems I saw then were pretty.”

“…….”

It was a completely unexpected answer for both Evil and James.

“Yeah, Luzem gemstones are nice to look at. James, you heard? Prepare crafting tools and send them to the house. Prepare the gems as raw stones.”

“…Yes.”

To the house? James almost asked that confirming question. The thing Evil hated most. Before James, who was clutching his chest in relief, Cheche blinked and asked the question Evil hated most.

“Why to the house? Wasn’t I supposed to go to this organization to learn?”

“This organization’s workshop is at the Center anyway. I’ll make you a crafting room at home, so be fucking grateful. I’m taking care of even an arrogant refugee bastard because you’re my secretary.”

“Thank you, Director.”

At Cheche’s flat thanks, Evil raised one eyebrow.

That was all.

The eyebrow that seemed to be rising in anger soon softened and his lips curved upward. He didn’t even seem aware he was smiling. It was a moment when he should have been angry, but he didn’t get angry and instead had a face tinged with amusement.

“Crafted in my mansion’s workshop, it’ll sell for a high price. You’ll be happy making money.”

“…….”

Cheche was an S-rank Soul Aura User and could feel people’s emotions. After brief consideration, he opened his mouth.

“Come to think of it, instead of jewelry crafting, I think I’ll do illusion arts.”

“Ah, you’re so fucking fickle!”

Evil slammed the table.

“Just do Luzem, why something that doesn’t even suit you… Hey, compile recent popular Showseller stage videos and send them to my email.”

“Yes.”

“No, first find a stylist who’ll dress the kid appropriately. These days Showsellers’ costumes are all fucking scandalous. The condition is dressing neatly up to here on the neck. Don’t show the wrist bones either. No calves either. Absolutely long sleeves, long pants.”

“Director.”

Cheche interrupted Evil’s words.

“What.”

“…….”

“Why are you just staring after calling me?”

“…….”

Evil already seemed irritated with wrinkles between his brows. Cheche had to pour oil on already burning firewood.

“I’ll just do Luzem.”

“Ah, fuck, really!”

Evil roared and shot to his feet. The sound of the chair falling backward was loud.

James fled far away, gripped his phone in hand, and prepared to send an emergency signal to the floor below. It was a situation where grabbing Cheche by the collar and throwing him would barely be enough. He’d reversed himself twice in front of Evil who hated reversals.

This time he would definitely explode. No matter how much of an exception Cheche was.