Chapter 6: The Stalker Accusation

“What?! Scott might be Enoch Cloud’s Guide? No, didn’t they do the test yesterday?”

Ethan, who had been scooping Uncle Hans’s homemade soft steamed eggs onto his plate and reaching for the pancake syrup, widened his eyes.

With the mixing of races and the shifting of nations, cuisine had similarly become a meld of cultures. Even as countries vanished, certain dishes with distinct characteristics were still named after their origins, such as ‘Chinese cuisine’ or ‘French cuisine,’ as if to preserve their memory.

Steamed eggs, however, were a bit ambiguous. Typically, those made without butter were referred to as ‘Asian-style steamed eggs.’ Uncle Hans’s version, with its perfect saltiness and light flavor, paired wonderfully with pancakes. It was one of Ethan’s favorite dishes.

However, his hand, midway through pouring syrup, froze in shock, causing an excessive amount to spill.

“To be precise, they couldn’t,” Uncle Hans explained. “The entire center was practically paralyzed when Enoch Cloud appeared. Thankfully, I was already receiving my guiding. Otherwise, I might have had to go back today. Even Scott himself vehemently shook his head, insisting he wasn’t a Guide.”

“That’s truly surprising,” Ethan mused. “He’s always wanted to be a Guide his whole life. Did he get scared when the situation actually arose?”

“But this time, the center was eager to test him,” Uncle Hans continued. “Enoch’s seizures definitely stopped. Since Enoch is a late-bloomer, his Guide could also be a late-bloomer, couldn’t they?”

‘How does that even become a formula?’ Ethan thought.

As Ethan’s eyes narrowed, Uncle Hans, looking a bit abashed, gestured to the food, urging him to eat quickly. Ethan crunched through his salad.

Imagining Scott suddenly put on the spot and retreating in that situation made Ethan chuckle.

However, it felt rather pathetic that Scott couldn’t even go home. He was forced to stay in a city hotel as Enoch’s esteemed guest until the matching test was prepared, all because of him.

“So, when are they doing the matching test?” Ethan asked. “Today?”

“Well, if they wanted to, they could do it today,” Uncle Hans replied. “But Enoch Cloud is such a celebrity that the center seems to be dragging their feet a bit.”

“What exactly do they hope to achieve by stalling?” Ethan wondered aloud.

“Hmm… well, Enoch Cloud is certainly someone you’d rarely see in the flesh in a rural town like this, even in a lifetime,” Uncle Hans speculated. “They probably figure it’d be good for publicity.”

Ethan wore an incredulous expression.

“What if Scott isn’t a Guide after all?” he pressed.

At Ethan’s agitated tone, Uncle Hans lifted his head, a hint of question in his gaze.

“I’m worried too, but they said Enoch Cloud’s seizures stopped, didn’t they?” Uncle Hans reasoned. “They even halted the evacuation. You wouldn’t know, since you’re not an Esper, but only a Guide with a matching rate of 50% or higher can calm an Esper’s seizure that quickly.”

Uncle Hans’s assertion that Scott couldn’t possibly *not* be a Guide was certainly well-founded.

As he uttered his last words, Uncle Hans’s voice took on a self-deprecating tone. Ethan watched him, lost in thought, for a long moment.

However, Uncle Hans seemed disinclined to continue the conversation on the same topic and quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, aren’t you late?”

“Ah!”

Ethan hastily shoved pancakes, steamed eggs, and milk tea into his mouth, then bolted from his seat, rushing out while shouting.

“I’m off!”

“Don’t forget to come back tonight and help with deliveries!”

Hearing the words from behind the closing door, Ethan didn’t look back, merely waving a hand as he ran.

“Acting like a child, even as a grown adult.”

Uncle Hans grumbled, almost chidingly, but a smile played on his lips.

****

The restaurant where Ethan worked primarily served Asian cuisine. It bore the name ‘Retro Asia,’ a moniker perhaps a touch unsophisticated yet direct.

The sheer variety of ingredients used in its dishes meant that supplies came not only from Uncle Hans’s grocery store but also from the city, with some direct trade agreements in place.

While a couple of other eateries existed in the village, this restaurant stood out. It was renowned for its excellent food and reasonable prices, offering direct human cooking and table service.

Its reputation as a beloved spot meant people would intentionally travel from the city to dine there, ensuring it was always bustling with patrons.

This made it relatively easy for Ethan to put his plans into motion.

“Heave-ho!”

Ethan, who had arrived an hour earlier than his scheduled time, headed straight for the kitchen. He placed 10kg of rice, which he had personally ordered in advance with the ingredient delivery, into a large rice cooker and began preparing a meal.

In the recently upgraded kitchen, 10kg of rice cooked in just ten minutes, emitting hot steam. Ethan, opening the rice cooker lid, winced slightly at the blast of heat and called for Iwol.

“Iwol, time to eat.”

An enormous quantity of rice began to disappear from the cooker without leaving a trace. Iwol was an `imae`, a type of `gwi`. It wore a mask that was jawless and perpetually creased into a foolish smile, and it was so loyal it would seemingly feign death at Ethan’s every word.

Despite consuming an endless amount of rice, Iwol possessed immense, almost ignorant, strength, making it Ethan’s favorite `gwi`.

“Yes, at least you’re the least expensive.”

Of course, his criteria was solely based on cost-efficiency.

After Iwol finished eating, Ethan instructed it to move all the ingredients he would otherwise have to laboriously carry himself. He even planned to subtly utilize Iwol during deliveries later, seizing moments when no one was watching.

He felt a slight pang of guilt towards Uncle Hans, who had so readily agreed to his audacious request for part-time pay in exchange for helping at the grocery store.

Yet, Ethan reasoned that since he was breaking his back supporting his `gwi`, he ought to at least be able to exploit them a little.

After moving everything that needed moving, he booted up the robot that took orders and handled payments at the counter. He then started the cleaning robots and turned on the music.

One by one, the morning shift employees began to arrive.

“Wow, Ethan really comes in early whenever it’s the morning shift.”

“Right? The boss doesn’t even show up until the morning hours are almost over.”

“Thanks to him, we have it easy, so I almost feel bad.”

“Ethan, I’ll get you some snacks later.”

With a boisterous atmosphere, they swung open the restaurant’s front door. It was the beginning of a lively day.

Until Bliss Moore arrived at this restaurant.

****

The restaurant typically began to get busy around 11:30 AM. Until 2 PM, it offered a variety of brunch menus, and in the evenings, it hosted a small buffet dinner with high-quality dishes that changed slightly each time.

While the dinner also received good reviews, its higher price point meant that the brunch menus were undoubtedly the most popular offerings. Occasionally, they would even deliver directly to shops with which they had a friendly relationship.

“Fusion Brunch Set A and coffee.”

“Then I’ll have Set B. Coffee for me too.”

However, the surreal sight of Bliss Moore appearing with his secretary and calmly ordering food was something no one in the restaurant had ever imagined.

*CRASH!*

“Ethan! You were fine in the hall, why are you suddenly rushing into the kitchen?!”

Ethan, who had barely managed to catch a salad bowl about to fall, flashed a sheepish smile at the head chef glaring at him.

“Tommy, aren’t you incredibly busy with all these orders coming in? Can’t I help out in the kitchen?”

Tommy scoffed, snatched the salad bowl Ethan had nearly ruined, and declared firmly.

“Nonsense! Get out now!”

Adding insult to injury as Ethan was being pushed out, he heard a shout along with two large plates being sent out.

“Table 8 is ready!”

Wearing a tearful expression, Ethan skillfully balanced the plates.

“Here are your Fusion Brunch Sets A and B.”

Hearing the food arrive, Philip Wyman looked up, then froze in surprise, causing Bliss Moore to lift his head as well. Upon seeing Ethan, Bliss’s eyes widened in momentary shock before he spoke in a somewhat jocular tone.

“The way you recognized me instantly, and now these frequent encounters… are you a stalker?”

At Bliss Moore’s words, the faces of his secretary, Ethan, and the customers at nearby tables who had been eavesdropping stiffened.

‘Who in their right mind would risk their life to stalk a military general, let alone an Esper?’ Ethan thought.

‘Beyond that, who would stalk a man rumored to be so cruelly cold-blooded?’

“…You crazy ba— *Mph!*”

The moment an exasperated Ethan opened his mouth, the manager’s quick wit proved remarkably effective. He successfully clamped a hand over Ethan’s mouth before any explosive words could escape, then forced a professional smile, beads of sweat trickling down his face.

“Hahaha. The coffee is on us, as a complimentary service. Please enjoy your meal and have a wonderful time.”

Pressing down firmly on Ethan’s head to force a bow, the manager then dragged him away.

“…He definitely seemed like he was about to call you crazy.”

Philip Wyman could offer no reply to Bliss Moore’s suspicious remark.

****

Ethan’s second misfortune occurred that evening.

He bit his lip, staring at the mansion before him. Among his delivery destinations was Bliss Moore’s estate. After delaying and delaying, it had finally become his last stop.

Although Bliss Moore was supposedly still staying in a city hotel, waiting for his mansion to be sorted, seeing him in the village today felt ominously prescient.

‘The delivery vehicle goes through the back gate anyway,’ he thought. ‘I’ll just drop off the packages quickly and leave.’

Driving the delivery vehicle inside, he found the once-desolate grounds, silent just days ago, now bustling with activity. He’d wondered why a mere two days’ worth of supplies was so extensive, but considering the number of staff who would consume it all, it made sense.

‘Wealthy people truly are different,’ he mused. ‘To be able to hire so many human servants just to manage a mansion.’

“I’m from Uncle Hans’s Grocery.”

“We’ve been expecting you,” the man replied. “I understand Mr. Hans’s grocery store has supplied the mansion with ingredients before. I am Dale Kenis, the butler.”

When Ethan addressed the man waiting at the back door, the butler greeted him with a polished, urban gesture rarely seen in such a rural village.

“Ah… yes. Shall I take the deliveries to the storage room?”

“We’ll handle the items for the storage room ourselves,” Dale Kenis instructed. “Could you please bring the immediate kitchen supplies? Someone in the kitchen will show you where to put them. The kitchen is on the first floor, at the far right end of the central corridor, adjacent to the dining room.”

Ethan, secretly relieved, subtly summoned Iwol.

‘Iwol, I’ll pretend to carry them, but you lift them from behind. Don’t let yourself be seen.’

He was walking, theatrically struggling with a box of potatoes and another of onions, when he overheard middle-aged maids whispering quietly as they moved something outside.

“Mr. Henry’s luggage isn’t as much as I expected.”

“Right? I’ve seen Seth send him so many gifts from the main family during his lifetime.”

“Because the madam disliked him so much…”

The maid, about to say more, saw Ethan passing with the boxes, and they all fell silent. Ethan, pretending not to have heard anything, continued his exaggerated struggle with the boxes.

‘How wretched. This is why these so-called nobles are such a pain.’

While Henry Grace was a Guide, he was not the spouse of his matched Esper.

In a world where same-s*x marriage was unremarkable due to Esper-Guide pairings, the core of power still clung to antiquated customs.

The blatant hypocrisy of them having agreed to and passed the Esper-Guide same-s*x marriage law in the assembly, yet privately thinking otherwise, made one corner of Ethan’s mouth twist unpleasantly.

Upon entering the kitchen, Ethan found three or four chefs bustling about. The sheer volume of food, enough to rival a small restaurant, suggested they were preparing meals for the staff, and Ethan, looking slightly overwhelmed, called out.

“Uncle Hans’s Grocery! Where should I put the potatoes and onions?!”

One of the chefs, stirring soup, merely lifted their head and shouted.

“Put them next to the carrots!”

Ethan set down the boxes, not forgetting to maintain his act of struggling until the very end.

He dusted off his hands, easing his tension. ‘Right, what are the chances I’d run into Bliss Moore in a kitchen like this?’

“…Still a stalker, I see?”

However, it seemed he *was* destined to encounter Bliss Moore, who was just leaving the dining room after his meal. Why on earth was he at the mansion at this hour, when he was supposedly staying at a city hotel? Ethan desperately tried to hide his face, which threatened to contort into a grimace.

“An acquaintance?”

Bliss Moore answered Enoch Cloud’s question, posed as he followed him out of the room, with an indifferent shrug.

“No. But it certainly feels like it.”

Ethan, suddenly relegated to the role of Bliss Moore’s stalker, felt his face flush crimson with shame. Perhaps because of this, the frustration he had forcibly suppressed earlier, thanks to the manager, finally erupted.

“Do nobles these days suffer from a prince complex? Or is their narcissism so overwhelming they think everyone in the world is fixated on them? Why brand a good citizen like me, who works part-time in this small village and helps at the grocery store, with such a ridiculous label as ‘stalker’? Is this how nobles who know how to use public facilities treat the imperial citizens who diligently pay taxes to keep them well-fed? And, with all due respect to Enoch Cloud, what lunatic would stalk Bliss Moore?!”

The torrent of words implied that Enoch, a celebrity, was preferable to Bliss Moore, a military general. By the time Ethan realized his slip-up, it was too late.

“…Oh, so I’m your type?”

Only one thought crossed Ethan’s mind as Enoch Cloud’s gaze settled on him.

‘I’m screwed.’

Bliss Moore’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.