After leaving the Hollow and dropping Ruby off, Ellen and Phaga drove home.
As for the corpse of Sacrifice No. 2, Phaga had tossed it into the pickup's trunk.
On the way, Ellen suddenly frowned. "Phaga, Ruby's expression when she left felt off. She was grinning like a fox."
"Really?"
Phaga paused to think.
But he couldn't recall anything strange about Ruby's expression. She'd seemed just as goofy and cocky as always. He wondered whether she'd still act like that when she started running Hollow ops with strangers someday, without him or Ellen around.
"Of course she did!"
Ellen's tail swayed as she spoke, her hands clasped behind her back.
"Like I don't know her? That girl's always looking for an opening. That photo of you holding the Dead End Butcher's head that went viral online? Ruby took it. It got passed around and leaked. Remember?"
"I do remember that..."
Phaga nodded slightly, then tilted his head toward Ellen. "So you're saying..."
Before he could finish, both their phones buzzed at the same time, cutting him off.
What's this?
Muttering to themselves, they each pulled out their phone—and both of their expressions shifted to surprise.
On the screen, Ruby had just added Phaga and Ellen to a new group chat. When they opened it, the first thing they saw was a photo of the two of them hugging.
Ruby: Ahem, this is a robbery! I've got your pictures. If you don't want them deleted, treat Ruby to ten... no, twenty hotpot meals!
Phaga: That's all you've got?
Ruby: ???
Ruby: What's that supposed to mean? Am I asking too little?
Ruby: Excellent, I like your honesty. One hundred hotpot meals!!!
"Stop teasing her."
Ellen smacked Phaga lightly in the chest, then started typing on her phone.
Ellen: No hotpot. Go ahead and tear up the ransom note.
Ellen: By the way, Ruby, didn't you say you were gonna cosplay Shark Girl? Did you already buy the tail?
Ruby: Ordered it online ages ago. But seriously, dear customers, are you sure you're not reconsidering? These are all your sweet and sour memories while you were dating!
Ruby: I've kidnapped your memories. Aren't you going to rescue them?
Five minutes later...
Ruby: Hey. Hey! Answer me! Why is nobody replying?!
Phaga: Ah, sorry. Forgot to leave the group.
Phaga: You can kill the hostage.
System Notice: Phaga has left the group chat.
Not long after, Ruby's phone buzzed again—Ellen had left too.
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
Ruby felt genuinely hurt. After all her hard work taking those photos, they weren't even appreciated.
"Unbelievable! You two shove this much dog food down my throat and you won't even buy Ruby twenty hotpot meals to help wash it down?!"
Ruby went home and sat alone in her room, staring at the now-empty group chat where she was the only member left. She couldn't help feeling a wave of sadness.
But soon enough, she turned grief into motivation. She opened her browser and started checking if any nearby photo studios were still open.
"Hmph! I'll print every single one. Let's see if you'll buy them then."
...
Meanwhile, somewhere else.
Phaga unlocked the door and pushed it open. Warm light spilled out from inside.
Following the light, he saw Lycaon sitting at the dining table, sipping coffee. Hearing the click of the lock, Lycaon turned his head.
Seeing Phaga and Ellen walk in, he lifted his lips in a faint smile. "Welcome home, both of you."
"Huh? Mr. Lycaon, you're out of the hospital already?"
Phaga looked stunned. Ellen, standing behind him, had the same baffled expression.
As far as they were concerned, Lycaon should've been in the hospital for at least two more days.
After all, he'd eaten Rina's cooking while hospitalized.
Had he, by this point, just built resistance?
"Yes. My body's about eighty percent recovered. I was discharged this noon."
Lycaon set his coffee down and said calmly, "Eighty percent is enough. The smell of disinfectant in the hospital is overwhelming. For a Wolf-Thiren, that's the real torture."
"Oh, right. Rina and Corin have already eaten and gone to rest. Are you two hungry? If you are, I can cook something."
The moment he said that, Lycaon turned and looked between Phaga and Ellen.
It almost felt like if either of them said yes, he'd stand up and start cooking on the spot.
"No need. You just got discharged, there's no way we're making you cook. I'll handle it."
With that, Phaga started shrugging off his coat and headed toward the kitchen to put on an apron.
But Lycaon shook his head and stepped past Phaga, looking instead to Ellen.
"Come to think of it, Phaga's been doing most of the cooking lately, hasn't he? Why don't we switch it up today? Ellen, would you go?"
"Me?"
Ellen pointed to herself. When she saw not even a hint of hesitation in Lycaon's eyes, she knew he was serious. She scratched at her hair, headed toward the kitchen, and called back:
"I'll say this first—it won't taste as good as Phaga's. If you don't like it, don't say I didn't warn you."
"It's fine. Just do your best," Lycaon replied over his shoulder.
Then he turned back around, fixing Phaga with a steady look. He tapped the table. "Sit."
Phaga didn't quite understand, but he could feel that Lycaon had probably already guessed something. With a weight in his chest, he sat down.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Only once the sounds of stir-frying drifted in from the kitchen did Lycaon finally break the silence.
"Seems like a lot happened between you and Ellen while I was in the hospital."
Phaga understood exactly what that implied. He was so startled he nearly stood up.
Lycaon lifted a hand, signaling him to stay seated.
Phaga slowly sat back down. During that pause, Lycaon poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the table.
Holding the cup between his hands, Phaga hesitated for a long time before finally asking, "Mr. Lycaon... how did you know?"
"...Heh. Once you and Ellen have a child and you watch him grow every day, you'll know him just as well."
Lycaon let out a quiet laugh or two. He didn't sound upset at all. "From the moment you walked in, I noticed something. The way Ellen looked at you wasn't the same as before."
"Of course, I didn't send Ellen to the kitchen just to talk about this."
"But this is—"
Phaga tried to say something, but Lycaon raised a hand and cut him off.
Even as their guardian, he trusted their future more than Phaga did.
"Kids have their own will. As an adult, my job is to respect it, give them my blessing, and watch over them quietly. If it comes down to it, I'll be the safety net at the end."
"Of course, that being said, if Ellen ever brings home some thug, I'll throw him out in pieces."
Lycaon took a small sip of coffee, then looked Phaga up and down with clear approval. "But you're obviously not in that category."
He cleared his throat twice, then continued:
"Ahem. Alright. Enough about you and Ellen. Time for business."
"First: the car that ambushed you and Ellen. We're going to find the people behind it, and we're going to get revenge."
"Second: the long-term commission—fourteen million dennies."
"Third, and most urgent—"
Lycaon laced his fingers together. Other than when he was facing Rina's cooking, this was the first time Phaga had seen him this serious.
He spoke in a low voice. "Sweep the Ballet Tower."