They say Koreans run on the power of rice.
At least in this moment, that saying seemed to hold true. The people who had been sizing each other up awkwardly just moments before had, with a single pot of kimchi jjigae set in the middle, thawed into something that looked like they’d known each other for years.
“Wow…. I worked five years at a place famous for its kimchi jjigae back in the day, but how is yours even better than theirs? What’s your secret?”
I just followed the instructions on the back of the ‘Omori Kimchi Jjigae Kimchi’ packaging, that’s all.
“It’s the first proper meal I’ve had in two years…. Jaea, you are officially my savior of appetite. Be proud of yourself!”
Savior of appetite? Is that really something worth being proud of?
“That kimchi jjigae was… it, it was genuinely the best I’ve ever had…. I’m going to call you Kimchi-hyung from now on……”
Please spare me that.
“If anyone gives you trouble, call me. I’ll settle it at the rate of one pot of jjigae per person.”
Who asked for that kind of settlement.
The four of them had naturally dropped the formal speech over the course of the meal, and their eyes as they looked at me were full of warmth.
Just moments ago, to them I had been little more than a low-level stranger who had abruptly inserted himself into their group.
But now it was different.
Someone who had shared a warm bowl of rice and stew.
That one simple thing was tearing down the walls between us far faster than I had expected.
So that’s why people always say sharing a meal matters.
I hadn’t imagined that cooking for them and eating together just once would shift the atmosphere this much.
It had been intentional, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. At the very least, I probably no longer looked like an impurity that had suddenly wedged itself into this team.
We were in the midst of slowly getting ready to head out, the mood warm and easy between us —
Click—
“Hm?”
Everyone’s ears pricked up at a sound from somewhere.
Click, click—
“W-where is that sound coming from…?”
“I heard it too.”
Woo Jaekyung spoke in a frightened voice, and Kim Seokju placed his hands on the two hand axes hanging from his belt.
It seemed like the sound had stopped — and then.
Clickclickclickclickclickclick!
It rattled at a frantic speed, as if demanding attention.
“Aaaah!”
“A monster?!”
I walked past the others, who had tensed up sharply.
“Jaea, it’s dangerous!”
“I’ll be fine, let me go check what it is. Everyone wait here.”
Kim Seokju, who had been about to grab me, let out a small “ah” and pulled his hand back. He seemed to have only just remembered that if it was a monster, there was no way it would put me in danger.
The sound had already stopped, but I knew where it had come from.
It was the room where we had gathered our things — the room where the Pet Egg was.
My worry that another Player might have broken in proved unfounded; there was no one inside. No signs of entry from the outside, and nothing that looked any different from when I had left.
It’s not like everyone imagined it.
I tilted my head, then looked at the Pet Egg. Was it just me, or had it tilted slightly in the direction my head had moved…… was that my imagination?
I tilted my head the other way, and the Pet Egg swayed in the same direction I had tilted.
…What?
I approached the Pet Egg, which was rocking about like a tumbler toy.
Looking closely, there were small cracks running across the surface of the shell. Through the gaps, an extraordinary golden light was seeping softly out.
I stared steadily at the source of the golden glow visible through the cracks — then belatedly realized it was the eye of something alive.
I was locked in a staring contest with it, expression stiff, when a system window appeared before my eyes.
<The hatching of Pet ‘Altiora’ is imminent.>
<Giving it a name will complete the hatching.>
Wait — hatching?
Wasn’t the Pet Egg supposed to only hatch when owned by a Player?
The hatching time for a Pet Egg varied, but as far as I knew, they were typically born within a day or two of purchase.
But that was strictly based on Players — it had never once crossed my mind that the same would apply when I was the one carrying it.
Having brought it out myself, I had fully intended to take responsibility.
I just had no intention of becoming its owner — I had only thought to find a good Player to hand it off to. And I had never imagined that something like this was even possible.
At this rate, I’m genuinely going to end up as its owner.
I was at a loss over the unexpected turn of events when I saw the golden eye inside the egg blinking wildly.
Even just from the look in its eyes, I could tell.
The moment our eyes had met, that creature had already decided I was its owner.
A name, huh……
A bird would be Chirpy, a cat would be Meowy, a dog would be Woofy….
It’d be nice if I could name it as easily as that, but since I had no idea what kind of creature was inside the Pet Egg, I had no clue what to call it.
<Altiora’s Egg Lv.0>
Maybe I should just take something from the egg’s name and keep it simple.
Altiora…. Alti….
I, possessor of what was apparently the worst naming sense known to man — capable of making passing strangers stop and stare in disapproval — managed to come up with at least one reasonably decent abbreviation and said it aloud.
“Alt.”
In reality it was nothing more than lazily lifting the first few letters, and it happened to share its name with a key familiar to anyone who had ever owned a PC — a thoroughly half-hearted piece of naming — but.
<The pet’s name has been set to ‘Alt.’>
<Alt, having been bestowed a name, begins to hatch.>
Crack — Craaaack—!
Along with the system notification, countless cracks spread across the Pet Egg.
“What happened? Is it a monster——!”
The four others who had come to check on the situation witnessed the scene as well, and then —
“Gyaa—!”
The plump, snow-white creature inside the egg flung the shell off its head and let out a roar. Stubby little forelegs raised as if in a cheer, mouth wide open.
“……”
“……”
What had hatched with such magnificent fanfare was an impossibly adorable, pure-white baby dragon.
* * *
At that same moment.
Jeong Euijin’s pet, the Black Dragon “Roks,” was quietly watching the direction from which Alt had been born.
“Roks?”
Jeong Euijin — who, not unlike Lee Jaea, was not blessed with a particularly good naming sense — called out the name he had given his pet, derived from “Ferox’s Egg.”
The Black Dragon, less than a month old and yet already grown to match Jeong Euijin’s height, was hovering high in the air, beating a pair of black wings that spanned roughly a meter across.
Roks, who had been watching a single point with unwavering crimson eyes, sent a thought to Jeong Euijin.
— The youngest, has been born.
Jeong Euijin felt the Black Dragon Roks’s alien voice carve its way into his mind and furrowed the corners of his eyes.
“You can tell that from here?”
— Yes.
It seemed that pets sold at the same supply station were set up to be siblings, with the ability to sense one another built in. For the record, Roks had identified himself as the “second eldest.”
Jeong Euijin had a feeling he knew which egg Roks was referring to as the “youngest.”
So that Pet Egg finally sold.
It had still been there the last time he had stopped by, the day before the Special Supply Station closed — but it seemed someone had bought it in the meantime.
I’d deliberately left it alone because that person seemed to care about it……
He’d had more than enough Coins to buy another Pet Egg. And since Roks had said that the remaining egg at the Special Supply Station was his sibling, picking up one more on his behalf would have been nothing.
Even so, the reason he had left the last remaining egg untouched was entirely because of the Special Supply Station’s NPC. Even if Perception Interference made it impossible to make out his face, Jeong Euijin’s sharp sense of ki often caught glimpses of what the NPC was looking at and what he had on his mind.
Jeong Euijin wiped the bitter expression from his face and raised his sharp eyes.
“If he’s your sibling, there’ll be a chance to meet someday. Right now there are more important things.”
— I know. Euijin’s benefactor, must find.
Roks gave a nod and looked every bit as resolute as Jeong Euijin.
— If not found, Euijin, can’t sleep again. Must find.
Unable to deny it, Euijin stroked the black body of Roks as he landed beside him. Roks seemed pleased — the ridge of spike-like bones jutting up along his back shivered faintly.
“Even if I have to search every zone, I need to find him tonight. Without fail.”
Because tomorrow, he had to go and cut down the cursed Minotaur Lord — the one who had destroyed the only place where he could ever meet that person.
Not knowing what kind of dangerous changes it might bring about, he needed to find that person as quickly as possible.
Roks — the pet who could share part of his consciousness with Jeong Euijin — turned the NPC’s silhouette and voice over in his mind, the impressions received from Jeong Euijin, and soared high into the sky.
Jeong Euijin turned his body in the opposite direction from where Roks had flown, silently hoping that today would be the day he finally found that NPC.
