With my good grades, I could choose any decent university, whether through regular or early admission. Next year I’ll be attending college, working part-time, and becoming independent from the facility… With those thoughts, I entered the director’s office.
But unusually, the director was smiling brightly.
“Sion!”
“Director? Didn’t you have career counseling at school today?”
Normally, an orphanage director wouldn’t keep track of such things one by one. Not with how many children there were.
But the director had been by my side since I was young. She had warmly embraced me befitting her title as a nun, and though she looked after other children too, she took particularly close care of me. The affection from raising me since I was a baby must have been special.
“Yes, your homeroom teacher contacted me.”
“Contacted you? I thought they’d ask you to visit the school…”
Did my homeroom teacher show consideration? That doesn’t sound like the kind of person they are. As I tilted my head in confusion and put down my bag, the director smiled even more brightly.
“They only praised you.”
I smiled along with the director’s bright smile. Seeing her happy like a child made me feel warm inside for no reason. However, the moment I checked the director’s phone screen, my smile froze cold.
[Student Sion is truly remarkable. Like a wildflower blooming by the roadside. No one helped, yet he took root on his own and grew like this. That in itself is already a valuable achievement.]
[Is our Sion that remarkable?]
[Of course. He didn’t receive the fertile soil and warm sunlight of a greenhouse, yet he took root alone in barren land and bloomed—that’s amazing.]
“They praised him so much, saying he accomplished everything on his own even though we couldn’t do much for him!”
The director was still smiling brightly. I stared at the text with cold hands.
[However… realistically, it’s difficult to expect a full scholarship. The tuition would likely be a significant burden. So perhaps instead of an overly ambitious path, wouldn’t it be better to consider a more stable choice? With your current grades, you could certainly get into higher-ranked schools, but… with Sion’s best interests at heart, we’d like to recommend more realistic universities.]
The subsequent recommendations were all universities far below my grade level. Most of them led directly to employment.
[The path Sion takes will likely be filled with greenhouse flowers. You’ll inevitably be constantly compared to those around you.]
I’d heard rumors that a wealthy student from the same grade was also aiming for the university I wanted. And word followed that this student’s scores were just barely passing.
[Everyone has their fitting place. Rather than becoming someone’s backdrop in a fancy flower garden, wildflowers can endure longer when they take root alone where they belong.]
On the surface, it was a plausible metaphor. But in the end, the conclusion was just one thing.
“Know your place.”
The message that I didn’t deserve to enter the flower garden. That wildflowers should stay wildflowers and remain only where they belong.
That’s what I was to my homeroom teacher. A student with humble origins and background, not even worth meeting. A student not even worth a phone call. That’s why they ended the counseling with just a few text messages.
However, the content written in those texts consisted of facts I couldn’t refute one by one.
No matter how they wrapped it in fancy metaphors, the conclusion was clear.
Seeing the director still smiling brightly, completely unable to even guess the intention, I felt like my insides were rotting away. That smile was too innocent, too ignorant of everything… and that made it feel even more cruel.
Thinking about that moment, I unknowingly bit my lip hard enough to split it.
“How ridiculous I must have looked. Grinning away without understanding the intention.”
The director’s face, still flushed with joy, haunted my eyes. The director who believed the sentences that belittled me were praise and was happy, unable to grasp what they meant.
But the biggest eyesore was someone else.
Myself—unable to bloom despite having talent, having nothing yet only using my head to keep acting smart.
Yes, I know. This is the inferiority complex inside me.
MSG powder scattered smoothly over the stew. As the subtle fragrance rose, my boiling chest seemed to calm down for a moment.
“…That’s enough.”
I carefully ladled it into a bowl and placed it before the Saint.
“If it’s not enough, please let me know anytime.”
The Saint nodded and picked up her spoon. She paused for a moment at the gently spreading aroma, then quietly swallowed a spoonful.
“…Ah.”
Soon a short exclamation flowed from between the Saint’s lips.
Her subtly trembling eyelids relaxed gently, and astonishment spread across the green eyes within her hood.
“It’s clear yet deep. A rich flavor lingers on the tip of my tongue… but it’s not heavy. It’s a clear and gracious taste, as if light is seeping through.”
The Saint didn’t even put down her spoon and tasted it several more times in succession. Then she smiled.
“This isn’t simply food that satisfies hunger. It’s a taste that gives you the strength to live through the day with just one meal. It’s comparable to divine grace!”
Theorde sitting beside her remained expressionless as always, but I saw his eyes waver for a moment.
“…This is a miracle.”
At the Saint’s admiration driven home like a wedge, I almost burst into cheers inwardly. No, I already did cheer. It just didn’t show on my face.
MSG. You truly are God’s blessing in this world too.
The Saint put down her spoon and asked with somewhat hurried energy.
“How could you create such flavor in such a short time?”
I paused for a moment, then answered leisurely.
“Perhaps it’s because my heart wanted to return a warm meal to my guest. Maybe it’s because love was included.”
At those words, the Saint’s eyes widened. As if unable to hide her admiration, she covered her mouth with her fingertips.
And Gilbert’s face, who had been beside her, became serious. Like someone blaming themselves for not properly giving love to anyone throughout their life.
Of course, what Gilbert lacked wasn’t love. It was MSG.
“…Love.”
At the low voice that suddenly burst out, everyone’s gazes turned to the side. Theorde, who had been silently listening to the conversation, had muttered sporadically.
“Pardon? My Lord?”
As the Saint asked in surprise, my eyes widened too. Wait, isn’t this character originally a cold-blooded swordsman with hardly any lines? Theorde frowned slightly, then turned his head toward me.
“I want to try it too.”
I snapped to attention. I hastily ladled out a bowl of stew and presented it to him. Theorde silently closed his eyes to savor the taste, then didn’t stop his spoon for a long time.
…What? Does he like it, or is he just hungry? Still, seeing how the spoon kept moving, it seemed at least not bad.
“To taste such food in this remote region. I ate well.”
The Saint, who had emptied her bowl, quietly rose from her seat.
“Won’t you be staying?”
When Gilbert asked carefully, the Saint pressed her hood down deeply and gently shook her head.
“I came to check the Boundary Line briefly. I’ll visit again next time.”
Come to think of it, why would the Saint need to come all the way to the Boundary Line?
Just as I was pondering that, a scene from the novel flashed through my mind like lightning.
[Amelia, who had to fulfill her duties as the Saint, received her first secret mission. It wasn’t the usual light roles of praying, blessing believers who made offerings, consecrating holy objects, or going around villages bestowing blessings. It was a much heavier and more important mission.
A body had been discovered near the Boundary Line. The body of an unidentified person at that.
It was a bad omen. It meant the balance between the two worlds that had been divided for so long was wavering. In other words, it was a harbinger that the battle between demons and humans would begin again.
Amelia swept back her white hair and slowly rose from her seat. Her gentle eyes trembled for a moment, and her true feelings leaked out.
“Please let nothing happen.”
But that was merely a wish.]
The incident is only now beginning?
Could it be that I can only return to my original world after seeing this novel through to the end? Then that means… war is coming soon too.
My heart sank. Just as my mind was becoming tangled in complexity, Theorde, who had been following the Saint’s steps, suddenly stopped walking, turned his head, and stared directly at me.
“…Your love.”
It was a short but weighty statement. Leaving those words behind, he exited the inn as if nothing had happened.
“…?”
“What the hell was that?”
Gilbert asked as if dumbfounded. I collected myself and shook my head.
“How would I know?”
At those words, Gilbert scratched his body vigorously and grumbled.
“Ugh, anyway, I thought I was going to die from how creepy my skin felt.”
“Just go wash up.”
“No, you understand those people’s words like a ghost, so why can’t you ever understand what I’m saying? I meant it gave me goosebumps.”
“…”
When I didn’t respond and ignored him, Gilbert asked from the side again.
“Anyway kid, I can see your cooking skills are amazing. But how exactly did you do it?”
“Well, just…”
“You were only there for a few minutes.”
I hesitated for a moment. Should I tell him or keep it secret? What if I say the wrong thing and get suspected and dragged away?
But if I kept it secret, it could develop into a bigger problem. If rumors spread about being a talented part-timer and I got slandered, or it became a case of ‘killing the goose that lays golden eggs,’ wouldn’t that be just like the world?
