"Very good."
Morris was satisfied as he gathered his owl into his arms.
Like the undead cat, its body was cold to the touch.
"Hoo—hoo—"
But unlike the docile undead cat, this owl didn't seem willing to be held by Morris and struggled violently in his arms.
"Don't move."
Morris commanded in a low voice while hugging the struggling owl tighter.
You know what? Holding such a cool creature on a hot summer day was actually quite comfortable.
After receiving Morris's command, the owl reluctantly quieted down, though low hooting sounds still emanated from deep in its throat.
Clearly, it was protesting.
But the protest was ineffective.
Morris adjusted his position and continued holding his owl.
Finally, the owl couldn't take it anymore.
Its pitch-black body suddenly collapsed, transforming into a mass of shadow that instantly merged into Morris's shadow at his feet, disappearing without a trace.
His arms suddenly empty, only a faint thread of cold aura remained.
Morris was momentarily stunned, then looked down at his perfectly ordinary shadow and said excitedly, "This is your ability?"
He experimentally commanded the shadow, "Come out."
The shadow at his feet rippled slightly, but the owl didn't appear—only an extremely faint, reluctant gurgling sound.
Morris raised an eyebrow. Not only was he not angry, he smiled instead.
"Got some personality, huh. Fine, suit yourself."
"Well... since that's the case, let me give you a name first."
"Let me think..."
Morris suddenly noticed the completely rain-damaged firecrackers stored in the corner.
"I'll call you Sparkles."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the shadow at his feet began to boil violently, black surging upward and quickly condensing into its original form.
Sparkles' eyes, burning with ghostly blue flames, were now wide open, filled with protest.
"Hoo—!!!"
Unfortunately, the protest was still ineffective.
Just like that, Sparkles' name was casually decided.
Perhaps because his own blood had been mixed into the magic circle, Morris could sense Sparkles' emotions to a certain extent.
Although Sparkles appeared resistant to Morris.
However, that deep soul-level sense of intimacy couldn't be hidden.
In simple terms, it was tsundere.
Thinking of this, Morris picked up Sparkles and rubbed it a few times.
Sparkles let out a nearly indignant short cry, its feathers were seeming ready to explode.
It almost immediately gave up struggling, its body once again dissolving into dark shadow, quickly seeping into his shadow and disappearing even more decisively than last time.
Morris couldn't help but smile.
This really was an interesting owl.
After a morning of testing, Morris had figured out the rules of Sparkles' ability.
What he knew was that the undead owl Sparkles could only attach to shadows produced by Morris himself and couldn't enter the shadows of any other objects.
Moreover, Sparkles could only enter and exit when he had a shadow.
Once in an environment where light was completely blocked and it was pitch dark, the "door" to enter and exit the shadow would be closed in both directions.
If Sparkles was already inside the shadow, it would remain trapped inside.
This ability was very convenient, allowing Morris to carry Sparkles with him at all times.
And according to the emotions Sparkles conveyed, resting inside the shadow was actually an extremely comfortable thing.
Therefore, during normal times, Morris decided to let Sparkles stay in his shadow.
Who knows when it might help him out.
At lunch time, a dessert appeared on the Children's Home dining table for the first time in a while—a small piece of chocolate cake for each person.
That sinful mixture of sugar and fat.
But Morris didn't dislike it; he could even be said to love it.
This sweet, rich feeling suited his taste perfectly.
Scott carefully poked the edge of his cake with a fork and looked up at the nearby caretaker, and asked casually, "Is today some special occasion? We actually have cake."
The caretaker's movements paused, his face was equally puzzled. "Honestly, I'm not too sure either. It was all prepared by the kitchen."
'Probably Harold's doing,' Morris thought.
Though he had no proof.
Speaking of which, Harold was very interested in his undead owl, and he had promised to show it to him.
Better to fulfill that promise soon.
After lunch, Morris came to the reception room and found a black telephone.
It probably hadn't been used in a long time, as a thin layer of dust had already settled on it.
After entering the number Harold had given him, a long busy tone came through the receiver.
"...Sure is slow."
Just as he thought no one would answer.
"Hello?" A tender, crisp voice of a little girl suddenly rang out.
Morris froze, somewhat doubting whether he had dialed the wrong number.
"Is anyone listening?" The girl's voice carried the lightheartedness distinctive of children.
"I'm looking for Mr. Green," Morris said cautiously.
"Daddy's busy," the girl said obediently.
It seemed Harold had given him his home phone number, which surprised Morris somewhat.
"Could you trouble yourself to have Mr. Green come to the phone?" he asked, slowing his voice.
"Please wait."
Light footsteps came from the other end of the receiver, gradually fading away.
Then there was a period of muffled conversation. Though the specific content was unclear, one person could be identified as Harold himself.
"Hello?" Harold's voice finally came through the phone.
"This is Morris, Mr. Green," Morris quickly explained. "The problem with that owl has been resolved. Would you like to come see?"
"I'll be right there," Harold immediately answered, his tone was clearly eager.
About an hour later, Morris saw Harold at the Children's Home.
"Where's your owl?" Harold immediately approached him upon seeing him.
"In the courtyard."
Morris said as he walked toward the courtyard.
At this time, the courtyard was empty.
He didn't want to expose Sparkles' special ability, so he hadn't let Sparkles stay in his shadow.
Morris led Harold through the corridor.
"So, you cured that bird's illness?" Harold inquired with concern.
"No." Morris stopped at the courtyard entrance and shook his head calmly. "It's dead, but I brought it back to life."
Standing in the courtyard, Morris whistled.
A black figure leaped down from the eaves and finally landed steadily on Morris's raised arm.
Harold recognized it—this was the listless owl from yesterday.
But now it was much more spirited, even excessively so. Even its eyes seemed to be burning with energy...
'Wait!'
Those eyes really were burning!
Harold could clearly see the ghostly blue flames dancing in the owl's eye sockets.
He stared in a daze; his throat was somewhat dry. "This is... what you mean by bringing it back to life?"
"This is an undead creature. You can touch it," Morris extended his arm forward. "You'll understand immediately."
Sparkles stood quietly on Morris's forearm, bringing almost no weight—this was also one of its characteristics.