An underground bunker belonging to a cult.
Dinner time, with all the initiates seated together around the table.
In the silence, a voice rang out.
“Wow.”
…….
“Wow, how interesting.”
A Ghost Story of the Nameless Religion was looking at me.
“Only Dragon came?”
Smiling brightly.
Its gaze shifting toward the two empty seats beside me.
“Fox and Grandma Kim Bookja aren’t here. Only Dragon came.”
…….
“Say, why do you think those two couldn’t come?”
Estimate: mild forgetfulness
Reason: natural aging due to advanced age
“You’re dissing Fox for being older than you? Hahahaha!”
Hahahaha….
Laughter spread through the dining hall.
“Don’t worry! They’re both fine. They seemed like they wanted a tour, so I showed a little consideration.”
A tour.
[Well now, I suppose we’ve been found out.]
Probably.
I tried not to imagine too vividly—too imaginatively—what kind of situation the two of them might be in.
But.
“So, do you want to keep eating? Or do you want to go see those two?”
…Ha.
Rule: Breakfast and dinner are eaten together.
“That’s right! But you’re not an initiate, are you? So you’re an exception.”
…….
“You should come after all! I’ll show you. Everyone else can just keep eating!”
“That’s right.”
The people smiled and nodded, then resumed eating while saying things like, “Spread happiness,” to one another.
I rose from my seat and followed the twins, gathering in my smoke as I walked….
Numbering the possibilities in preparation for the worst case.
‘As long as Assistant Manager isn’t dead.’