**Episode 3: Pajeon & Makgeolli (2)**
**[Today's Journal]**
**Date:** July 6th
**Weather:** Rain pouring down in buckets
**Young Lady's Mood:** 😡 -> 😕
└ Ultra-critical
└ I took some leave to look a little less lively, and the Young Lady's mood turned extremely sour.
└ How am I supposed to live now?
└ Is there any point in living?
└ Well, thankfully, it seems she likes the pajeon and makgeolli, at least.
└ The bowl and bottle were very clean.
└ Crisis averted.
└ And how am I supposed to cook the chef?
└ That physique is absolutely insane.
└ 230 cm and 140 kg…? Is that for real?
└ He must really have a bear somewhere in his ancestry.
* * *
*Munch.*
*Munch, munch.*
"Mmm."
Delicious, as expected.
The sweet and savory scent that had filled the room was now filling her own mouth to the brim with its flavor.
"...Should I just make him stop being my bodyguard?"
"…?"
Mari, who had been eating beside her, stopped and looked at the Young Lady in bewilderment as she let slip those suspicious words.
And one particular image crossed her mind.
If *he* had heard these words?
—*Kiyaaaaaaak!!! I'm deeeead!!! I'm gonna diiiie!!!*
A chill ran down her spine.
'...Thank goodness he's not here.'
If he had been, she might have needed to get her eardrums replaced today.
Regardless of what Mari was thinking, Lucy's thoughts did not change.
"I really should make him quit...."
Unable to watch any longer, Mari dared to offer her own opinion.
Not because she pitied Rio.
To protect her own eardrums.
"Um, Young Lady?"
"Mmm?"
*Munch.*
*Munch, munch.*
'...Well, she is cute.'
Thinking she now understood why Rio made such a fuss, Mari added,
"Could it be that Sir Rio displeases you?"
At Mari's sudden question, Lucy stopped mid-chopstick and opened her eyes wide and round.
Then, after chewing again and swallowing what was in her mouth, she asked back, incredulous.
"...What do you mean?"
At that reaction, Mari realized she had misunderstood, but ending the conversation there would make things far too awkward.
"What you just said. About making him stop being your bodyguard...."
"Ah."
It seemed Mari had picked up on the words she had let slip without thinking.
Flustered, Lucy hurried to deny them.
"Ah, no, that's not it!"
"Then?"
Normally, it would be unthinkable for a servant to pry so deeply.
But after serving her for twenty years, this much was possible.
Mental care was part of guard duty, after all.
Besides, look at those red ears peeking out from between her hair.
How could anyone see that and not ask?
In that regard, Mari and Rio were of one mind.
"I just... thought maybe I could have him... cook for me."
"Cook?"
Had Rio been that skilled at cooking?
Looking at what he had brought, it didn't seem like he was bad at it.
*To that extent?*
At Mari's unspoken question, Lucy's eyes sparkled as she spoke quickly, her mouth full.
"Yeah. I've never seen him do his bodyguard job properly, but he seems good at cooking."
"Ah... *ahem.*"
"Why are you laughing?"
"Ah, it's nothing."
Thinking that if Rio heard this right in front of him, he would fly into a rage, Mari looked down at the food he had brought.
*I am curious, though.*
At Mari's curious gaze, Lucy smiled brightly and held out her chopsticks.
"Want to try a little?"
"Then, thank you."
Mari did not refuse.
The sweet fragrance that had been tickling her nose for a while now had been stimulating her salivary glands.
And finally, a piece of pajeon entered her mouth.
As if gunpowder had exploded inside it, the unique sharp yet sweet fragrance of green onions spread through her mouth.
"Delicious, right?"
"Yes. It truly is delicious. If only there were something cool to drink with it...."
As Mari spoke, unable to hide her surprise, her eyes caught a bottle that Rio had left behind.
Judging by the condensation on its surface, it was clear it had been taken out of cold storage not long ago.
"Young Lady, what's that?"
"Ah, I didn't ask for its name."
"May I check it for a moment?"
"Yes."
Mari said so and grasped the bottle.
Then she brought it close to her nose, fanning her hand to catch its scent.
"It seems to be alcohol."
"Alcohol?"
"Yes, but it's not the usual sort we know. The color is white and cloudy."
Saying so, Mari poured some into a wine glass and tasted it first.
At that moment.
She felt as if stars were floating above her head.
It gently popped and prickled inside her mouth, feeling like flat beer, yet it had a strangely sour taste.
It didn't feel very high in alcohol content.
"How does it taste?"
"Let me pour you a glass as well, Young Lady."
Without further ado, Mari poured a little of the white alcohol into a glass.
And so, the two enjoyed the rain pouring down in buckets beyond the window, sharing bites of pajeon and cups of white liquor.
*The sound of rain is nice.*
The noise, which had simply been noise before, now sounded quite refreshing.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that same moment, in the kitchen.
There, a bear and a tall teenage boy were locked in a vicious war of words.
Hey, hey, hey!
"This isn't on, mister!"
"U-hahaha! Goooood!"
"You fucking bear bastard! Hand over my pajeon and makgeolli!"
"Screw yooou!"
"Did you just tell me to screw off?!"
The Bear Chef, spouting teabagging without hesitation.
Finally, he pointed with his finger at the scene of the crime.
"I leeeft a little over theeeere."
Where he pointed, there truly were some meager remains left.
Scraped together, the pajeon might amount to a booger's worth.
Shaken out, the empty makgeolli bottle might have yielded five drops.
Yes.
Remains, in the truest sense of the word.
I couldn't hold back any longer and rushed at him.
*Swoosh—*
Jump, get behind him.
Wrap my arms around his neck.
Squeeze for all I'm worth.
A perfect Rear Naked Choke.
All of it happened in an instant.
But.
"Hmmm. A sudden neck massage?"
He didn't budge an inch.
There has to be a reasonable weight class difference, damn it.
*Of course, if I used a knife, I'd win.*
But drawing a blade over pajeon and makgeolli is a bit....
I glared at the Bear Punk with an incredulous gaze.
Meanwhile, the sweet and savory scent unique to pajeon overflowed in the kitchen, and the rage scouter in my brain was on the verge of exploding.
Then, the Bear Punk spoke to me while I hung off him like a backpack.
"Hey."
"What."
"Hand over the recipe."
"Did you leave it with me?"
At that, the Bear Hulk tilted his head as if wondering what I was talking about.
"You used my kitchen, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then it's right that you left it in my care. So hand it over."
"......."
I felt my sanity slip away right then and there.
A simple lunatic can be beaten down.
But a man acting on firm conviction cannot be stopped with straightforward methods.
I needed to change strategies.
*Might as well give him the recipe and get some food out of it?*
But the real question was whether he would cooperate obediently.
First, I got down from behind Urongsa and planted my feet on the ground.
"How about a deal?"
"No. I don't talk with scheming bastards like you."
"Come on, just hear me out. I'll keep giving you recipes from now on, too."
"Hrmm...."
The scent of makgeolli wafted over his low nasal hum.
*That was supposed to be mine.*
Hiding my nervousness, I eyed the gallbladder juice nonchalantly.
After a long moment of thought, he opened his mouth.
"No."
"Drop dead!"
*If you were going to say no, why did you think about it for so long?!*
At the very moment I clenched my teeth and threw a fist at the chef—
*Squeak—*
The kitchen door opened, and a completely unexpected figure appeared.
Maintaining my fist-throwing stance, I only rolled my eyes to stare fixedly at the protagonist.
"...What are you doing? Not going to finish?"
"Why is the Young Lady here...."
Beneath swaying silver hair, red pupils sparkled with indifferent nonchalance.
An expression full of great interest.
"Weren't you about to hit him?"
"Th-that... I was, but...."
This was exactly that situation.
The one where you rush to hit a friend after a verbal spat, and someone on the sidelines cheers, "Fight! Fight!"
Except the person I was about to fight wasn't even interested in fighting.
*I'm basically just some pathetic guy putting on a one-man show.*
A sudden reality check.
I slowly lowered my raised fist and let out a deep sigh.
Perhaps disappointed by the anticlimactic end to the performance, the Young Lady's eyes turned indifferent once more.
That hurts, Young Lady!
While I was reeling from the Young Lady's gaze, a dignified tone struck down from above.
For the record, I had never once heard him use that tone when it was just the two of us.
'You... son of a bitch.'
I swallowed the words I couldn't spit out because the Young Lady was right there.
"Ah, right. I came to ask if you could make more of this pajeon thing."
The Young Lady held out the bowl she had brought herself.
Something she could have had a servant do; I couldn't fathom why she had brought it herself.
"A-and... this, too."
As she did so—somewhat, no, *very* embarrassedly—she held out the bottle she had been holding.
'Ah, makgeolli.'
So she came down personally for that.
*Well, it's not exactly refined like wine.*
After all, its very name meant roughly filtered alcohol.
But there was one problem.
Avoiding the Young Lady's bright, expectant eyes, I barely managed to speak.
"Um... Young Lady."
"What."
"I can't make it right now."
"Why."
Disappointment settled on the Young Lady's face at the negative answer.
I gulped, scratching my stiffened lips with a finger before speaking.
"Um, I only made two bottles, you see."
"Why."
*Why?! What do you mean, why, my Lady!*
Do you have any idea how hard it is for a worthless bodyguard to get ingredients and brew alcohol?!
...I hated myself for not being able to shout that.
They say the one who falls first loses.
Then, as if she had found a clue in my words, a small glimmer of expectation swirled in the Young Lady's eyes.
"Wait, you said two bottles. At least bring me the remaining one."
At the same time, the chef's pupils were shaking madly, as if an earthquake had struck.
Serves you right, Bear Punk!
Sayonara, Bear Punk~!