About Being Found and Adopted by Talula

"...Is that a burnt smell coming from the balcony?"

"Your imagination."

Talula swept the suspected pile of burnt trash ashes off the balcony, then shut the window.

"Um... that thing against the wall is a wardrobe, right? Why is the lock on top of it constantly making a scream like it's been stuffed full?"

"Your imagination."

Talula looked like she wasn't listening to a word he said.

If only Alina could give Talula one percent of her housekeeping skills...

At the moment, only Talula and Orson were in the room. Though they had done this many times before, Orson still found the atmosphere of being alone with Talula somewhat uncomfortable.

"Have you decided, Sister Talula? Are we doing that again today?"

Orson calmed himself. He was reluctant, yet also somewhat expectant.

"Mm. We'll be carrying out an infiltration operation in Chernobyl tomorrow. We have to seize the opportunity today."

As Talula spoke, she undid her military uniform. Orson blushed and turned his head away while confirming that the car door... no, the room door had been welded shut.

"Turn around, Orson."

Talula was no longer wearing the outfit symbolizing the leader of the Reunion Movement. Instead, she wore an extremely light outfit, almost like pajamas.

"Then... I'm starting, Sister Talula."

"Mm, I'm ready."

Talula lay gently on the bed and closed her eyes. Orson suppressed the pounding of his heart as he lightly placed his palm over Talula's modest but adorably shaped chest.

Though Talula's face remained expressionless, a blush slowly spread across her cheeks and horns, plainly visible to the naked eye.

"Soul Tuning—"

As he spoke, Orson manifested Talula's white sheet music and locked his consciousness onto the black "noise" within it.

Whoosh—

The surroundings changed in an instant. A second ago, the two had been in a room at the Reunion Movement's base. Now, they had been transported into a grand, solemn space resembling a castle.

"Th-that..."

Orson's face reddened. He looked up at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, making his tone sound as relaxed and casual as possible.

Though he had gone through the preliminary stage of Soul Tuning many times, Orson still couldn't get used to this ambiguous feeling. It always felt like he was doing something bad.

"Sister Talula, did you forget to wear... you know, your close-fitting chest armor today?"

When he had touched Talula's chest to complete the Soul Tuning, Orson had clearly noticed that it felt different today.

If it had previously felt like touching a steamed bun wrapped in stiff gauze, then just now, it had felt like touching a freshly steamed bun directly.

"...?"

Talula lowered her head and looked at herself.

"...!?!?"

Then she visibly burst into flames.

Just as Orson's life was hanging by a thread, a deep voice that instinctively made them tense came from the throne before them.

"My daughter, we meet again."

The immortal black snake, the source of all curses, the true instigator behind the Chernobyl tragedy—sat upon the throne, smiling as he looked at them with an expression that seemed to see through everything.

The Black Snake's Misery

After Talula had found him and he became a member of the Reunion Movement, Orson repeated several things every day without pause.

The first was training his physique and combat skills. Thanks to Patriot and the tough, exceptional veterans under him, Orson never lacked chances to spar with experienced old soldiers.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the Shield Guards beat him senseless. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, Talula and FrostNova gave him a taste of ice and fire. Sometimes on weekends, he could even enjoy Patriot's special extra helping after accidentally running into FrostNova.

As for training his body, Orson knew very well that it was something he had to do to survive. The world of Terra had yet to fully embrace the rule of law; people came to blows over the slightest disagreement all the time. Orson had to force himself to learn how to fight.

The little foundation he had from fighting others in the past was nowhere near enough. Orson could only rely on the simplest and most straightforward method—getting beaten up—to train himself. And Orson, bruised and battered every day, was also perfect material for Ino to practice his "Life Drain" Originium Arts. One stacked up beatings while the other went, "Wow, not bad," and both rapidly improved in combat and Originium Arts control.

The second was constantly honing his Originium Arts, exploring more ways to use them, and improving his proficiency by even one percent.

After Orson discovered that he could Soul Tune himself and greatly reduce his fatigue, the number of times Ino crawled into his bed plummeted—because almost no one knew exactly how many hours he slept each day.

Through his constant training of the Originium Arts known as "Tuning," Orson had become not only a support who could buff his teammates' weapons and attacks, but also a versatile worker permanently in search mode, able to command his shadow, Rest Note, in battle while possessing methods of mental attack and defense.

The reason Orson worked so desperately was that his Originium Arts did not belong to him alone—they were also linked to Alina. He had to understand the nature of this power as quickly as possible, ideally to the point where even if he died, it would not affect those whose souls had been changed through Soul Tuning.

The other problem Orson needed to solve was the "noise" entrenched upon Talula's white sheet music.

Ever since learning of Koschei's existence, Orson had been trying to solve that problem. After all, judging by the original plot, the change from Sister Talula being an idealistic rebel leader who shared joy and hardship with the people to later starting in fifth gear in Chernobyl and rear-ending a black high-end Lungmen had clearly been related to that "curse of the black snake."

Later, through all kinds of theoretical experiments, Orson discovered that as long as Talula relaxed completely and adopted an accepting posture toward him, his Soul Tuning could come into contact with Koschei.

Orson still remembered his first successful tuning. He and Talula had arrived at the black snake's "inner barrier," a grand yet freezing cold boundary resembling a castle.

When Talula saw that "immortal black snake," Orson had to block her in the middle to stop her from rushing over and starting a fight.

But when he thought of the fates of FrostNova, Patriot, Sasha and Ino, Misha, Skullshatterer, and the others in the original timeline, Orson grew angrier the more he thought about it. In the end, he and Talula chose to gang up and beat the black snake senseless.

A monster that had lived for a thousand years truly was different. Even after being beaten in the realm of consciousness, Koschei still maintained an imposing air, looking as though nothing had escaped his calculations.

"Because you have experienced pure malice, you chose to vent it through this meaningless violence?"

Koschei questioned him, and Orson's answer was exceptionally simple:

"I just don't like the sight of you. Besides, there's no harm in beating you up. As for malice? I did see the most disgusting side of this world, but I also found my own treasure then."

"..."

Orson's response made Koschei frown, while Talula turned her head away beside him, her expression hidden.

Afterward, Talula calmed down and began speaking with Koschei, mainly about how to obtain information on those southern nobles as quickly as possible.

"Talula, oh Talula. My daughter, are you longing for my power? That power of mine—the power you despise?"

Koschei revealed a sly smile, but Talula remained unmoved.

"I won't be bewitched by you, Koschei. Nor will I take another extreme path just to oppose you. Now, I have my own 'bonds.' They will stop your erosion of me. Immortal black snake, you can rot here forever with that filthy wisdom of yours, or you can watch as an observer and see how far your daughter—heh, the 'vessel' you originally selected—can go."

"...Mm. Should I be gratified? Talula, you have finally become slightly less childish."

"You always like to disguise your nonsense with rhetoric. Still, you are older than I am. Setting aside those stubborn, decayed obsessions, there are aspects of your perspective worth considering."

Talula no longer avoided him. She sat directly before the black snake, confronting the immortal serpent that had once nearly dragged her into the abyss.

"Heh. Then let me hear what views you hold now."

Koschei crossed his hands and assumed an unfathomable pose.

Orson, at the side, also focused intently. He had to make sure he could restrain this crafty old black snake at any moment.

Five minutes later—

"Your actions, ZZZ, are merely ZZZ, but those people will only ZZZZ and let you ZZZZ—"

Koschei spoke about his political views with veins bulging on his forehead. The reason was simple: throughout his speech, Orson's sleeping breaths filled the air.

"...You're really letting him sleep the whole time while I tell you of the suffering Ursus must endure?"

"Orson rarely has any time to rest. Sleeping in a dream... hehe, if it can ease his mind a little, there's nothing wrong with that."

With the demeanor of an older sister, Talula gently stroked the hair of Orson, who had rarely entered sleep. This "boy" of the Reunion Movement, only slightly older than Ino and Sasha, had all his efforts seen by Talula.

Koschei, meanwhile, watched Talula smiling as she stroked Orson. A peculiar feeling he had never experienced in a thousand years rose within him.

That was right. For the first time in his life, Koschei tasted the feeling of having his cabbage rooted up by a pig.

The first time was unfamiliar; the second came naturally. Although he still could not completely remove the black snake's curse, through Orson's Originium Arts, he could now easily converse with Koschei within the space of soul consciousness.

Second meeting:

"I got played by you last time. I definitely won't fall for it again this time!"—said Orson, before falling completely asleep seven minutes later.

Fourth meeting:

"I came prepared this time. I understand both Sister Talula's and your political intentions now!"—said Orson, before starting to count the patterns on the ceiling four minutes later.

Sixth meeting:

"Where's Talula?"

Koschei was stunned. This time, even Talula was simply absent, leaving only Orson before him, "an evolutionary omission wearing human skin."

"Sister Talula went to the room next door. This time, I came to discuss something with you alone. There are some things I don't want Sister Talula to know."

Orson put on a solemn expression, and Koschei caught a scent of an opportunity to stir up trouble.

"Oh? Then what do you wish to learn? The structure of Ursus's power distribution? The legacy of this black snake's latest host? Or perhaps methods of manipulating army groups into slaughtering one another?"

No one could refuse the supreme privileges brought by power and violence.

"I want to know when Talula's birthday is."

"...?"

Koschei froze for a moment, briefly suspecting that he had been cooped up for too long and was hearing things.

"Ah... it's embarrassing to say, but I've been here for nearly a year and still don't know Talula's birthday."

Orson said this as he sheepishly rubbed his hair. Koschei's temples throbbed. This thousand-year-old schemer, unshaken by changing circumstances, experienced the feeling of his blood pressure maxing out once more.

What made him even more despairing was that after that, this asshole Orson became utterly ridiculous.

Though Koschei had lived for a very long time, he had almost never dealt with "leeks at the bottom of society."

He had especially never dealt with a lowlife like Orson, who fell asleep within three minutes whenever politics came up.

After that, Orson came to Koschei's soul-consciousness space many more times.

"Good evening, Black Snake. Um, you two talk. Today, I'll skip the part where I stubbornly argue and fast-forward straight to sleeping on the spot... That Originium insect riot last time kept me awake for more than sixty hours... yawn."

—Sometimes, Orson came here to catch up on sleep. After all, the mental power required to maintain the black snake's soul-consciousness space came from the black snake himself. If coming here did not require such intense cuddling with Talula, Orson would probably come every day to sleep for free.

"Let's not talk about governing the country or Ursus's recent history of suffering today. FrostNova's side cleared out a mine, and we're planning to make something delicious tonight. You should have some cookbook for banquet cuisine in here, right? Tsk tsk tsk... There's even a book called Beginner to Mastery in Crossdressing next to the recipes. Black Snake, what do you usually think about?"

—Sometimes, Orson took recipes from the bookshelf manifested from Koschei's memories and studied them with Talula.

"Alina, this is Talula's bargain-bin dad, Koschei. Koschei, this is Alina. The one and only designated lighthouse of our Reunion Movement, everyone's light."

"Huh...? Um, hello?" Alina looked utterly confused, unable to make sense of the situation.

"Hehe, ignorant and innocent girl, are you another pillar within Talula's heart? That foolish kindness of yours will eventually—"

"This guy likes crossdressing, Alina. Be careful around him."

"You motherf—"

—Sometimes, Orson even dragged other people in, like relatives visiting one another during the New Year.

"Koschei, when you have time, could you teach Sister Talula how to dress more femininely? Like, see if you can talk her into wearing a black lace dress or something?"

—Sometimes, Orson made all sorts of bizarre requests that begged for a beating. Naturally, he was usually caught by Talula at times like that. Driven by survival instinct, Orson ran for his life, only to fail at escaping and experience Talula's youth edition of Blazing Prairie.

Back to this time—

"We meet again, my daughter. I can tell from your expression that you have a concrete need this time."

Koschei directly ignored the fool who had rooted up his cabbage and asked Talula what information she intended to obtain from him this time.

"Chernobyl."

Talula's words sharpened Koschei's gaze.

"You intend to use Chernobyl as your first stepping stone? An interesting idea, my daughter. You finally understand how to begin drawing away attention. This move carries considerable risk, but if you lay the groundwork properly, it will not be a dead end. Risk and opportunity are two sides of the same coin. Do you truly have the courage to enter Chernobyl's battlefield, where conflict could erupt at any moment?"

"Uh, Orson was the one who suggested going to Chernobyl."

Talula awkwardly pointed at Orson beside her, who was staring at the ceiling. Koschei's expression immediately shifted from approving admiration to bone-deep impatience.

"I see. Did you choose this city merely because its name sounds catchy? Or because these happen to be among the few words you can understand? No, you probably decided through some idiotic method like flipping a coin or throwing darts. Utterly foolish, with no logic or purpose whatsoever."