My Being Picked Up and Adopted by Talula Chapter 4

Orson asked the Liberi boy hiding behind Sasha, who had short white hair and a timid demeanor.

"Why... doesn't Simon revive the one he loves?"

"——"

Ino's question made Orson pause for a moment, as it was a question that even Orson himself couldn't let go of.

A hero who saved the entire universe, if he didn't even have the right to "act spoiled" a little to save the person he loved, then such a world would be too cold and too correct.

But he was an acting teacher now. What is a teacher? A teacher is someone who, after deducing the wrong answer for half a class, still has to force themselves to make it work!

"Ahem, because their love was so great. Simon sacrificed Nia for the sake of the world's operation, and Nia understood and accepted this sacrifice. Their feelings are no longer separable by life and death—"

"But what's lost is still lost..."

Ino wasn't particularly convinced by Orson's explanation. The thin boy, who was afraid of everything, still had a melancholic and preoccupied expression.

"...Alright! We still have some time. Does anyone want to hear the dark, shocking hero story of the Chainsaw Devil and Strongman?"

"Yay!"

Orson shifted his mindset and tried to liven up the children's mood. The effect seemed to be outstanding. Sasha and Ino stopped dwelling on their previous confusion and instead looked at Orson with shining eyes, eagerly anticipating his new, interesting story.

—At this time, they were still very cute and innocent children.

Orson looked at Sasha and Ino in front of him—who would later become Faust and Mephistopheles, their hands stained with blood—and felt an indescribable emotion.

At this moment, Faust Sasha, and Mephistopheles Ino, were as innocent and naive as a blank sheet of paper. The [Melody] Orson could hear was only a single, extremely simple note.

Perhaps... just perhaps...

Perhaps my arrival in this world is not a "tragedy."

Perhaps there is a god in this world, but it needs to choose an "agent"...

Perhaps I can change the bloody, death-filled, desperate end for these people.

In the pure white forest, Orson reached out and gently touched Ino's pure white hair, which was like a snowflake, symbolizing purity.

"Ino, I'll give you some extra lessons tonight. We'll start with the Three-Character Classic and the Eight Honors and Eight Shames."

"?"

05. Explosive Bedtime Stories

The northern nights of Ursus always arrived quickly. The azure sky was covered by a black curtain, adorned with countless sparkling stars.

If one didn't have to consider the temperature and survival difficulty, the northern regions would probably be a paradise for stargazers.

Beneath the Milky Way, accompanied by a wisp of white smoke, a faint flame was born from the tinder and then slowly spread, attaching itself to the firewood that had already been piled up around it.

The sparks gradually gathered and integrated, transforming into a bonfire that could warm the body and dispel the darkness.

"..."

Orson sat to the side, staring intently at the bonfire.

"Teacher Orson, what are you spacing out about?"

Sasha, feeling a bit curious, leaned closer to Orson and asked.

When Orson first came to "substitute," Sasha had warily threatened Orson with his bow and arrow. But after all, he was still just a child; it was easy to be wary, but even easier to trust. After spending some time together, Sasha had come to accept Orson as a teacher who "could tell all sorts of wonderful stories."

"Oh... it's nothing. It's just the first time I've seen a real bonfire like this. It feels quite magical."

"You've never seen a bonfire... Did your village not have them either, Teacher?"

Sasha asked curiously, and Ino, following behind Sasha, also twitched his ears slightly, wanting to hear Orson's answer.

"Yes, in the village where I lived, everyone only looked at the vision they needed to survive. We didn't have the intention to gather around a bonfire like this to keep warm. After all, the lighting and warmth a bonfire could provide could also be achieved by a house and a fireplace for the same needs. As for the 'social aspect' of a bonfire, it was something we had already removed as unnecessary."

"Is that so... Then your past must have been very boring, Teacher Orson. Although—oof! Ino?"

Sasha was interrupted by Ino poking him. The latter weakly tugged at the hem of Sasha's clothes and shook his head, signaling Sasha not to continue the topic.

It seemed that Ino already knew his identity as the "last survivor," which was why he told Sasha not to ask that question.

Sigh, he was such a little angel when he was young, how did he turn into that old man when he grew up...

Orson sighed, considering adding a few more books on moral education to the [Ino Good Child Development Plan].

"My past?"

The corpses of countless infected individuals and their distorted faces flashed through Orson's mind. He lightly shook his head.

"It was indeed quite boring. So, what about you two? Sasha and Ino, although you are of different races, you seem to have a very good relationship. Are you friends?"

Orson lightly glossed over those hellish experiences and instead threw the topic back to Sasha.

"Y-yes! Sasha is, my best friend."

Contrary to expectations, it was Ino who actively answered this time. Although his tone was still stiff and shy, it was firm.

"Sasha? Do you also think Ino is your good friend?"

"Of course, we won't be separated!"

Sasha also declared in a quiet but serious voice.

"That's great. Since we're friends, Sasha, you have to keep a close eye on Ino and don't let him do anything strange."

Orson stretched out his hands and ruffled the hair of the two youths simultaneously, then offered the advice to the future Faust.

"Uh... yeah, okay?"

Sasha agreed, confused. After all, normally, everyone would ask the quieter Ino to look after the more impulsive Sasha.

Time passed, and the children had already gone to their tents to rest due to tiredness. The flames of the bonfire in the center of the camp gradually weakened.

As darkness gathered again, Orson suddenly thought of a problem: where should he sleep?

Orson glanced at the tents around him. Naturally, they all had occupants, and he couldn't just peek into each one to see if there was an empty spot.

But sleeping outside was also out of the question. Given the temperature in northern Ursus, if he slept outside, Orson feared he'd be strong enough to break rocks the next day.

"Little Orson? You're here. You're quite unnoticeable, so if it weren't for that chain, it would have been hard to find you, ahaha!"

While Orson was struggling, an Infected warrior found him.

"What's up?"

"Talula sent me to let you know where you'll be sleeping tonight."

"Oh, oh, oh! I knew Sister Talula wouldn't be so heartless...!!"

For a moment, Orson had genuinely wondered if he would be thrown outside to freeze dry by Talula, having witnessed her coming out (in a physical sense). But it seemed Sister Talula was still the GOAT.

"Since it's too late to set up a new tent, Talula has arranged for you to share a tent."

"Share... a tent? You mean, sleep together?"

Orson swallowed.

"Yeah. Although I don't know why Talula doesn't seem to like you much, it wasn't easy for her to make this arrangement. And FrostNova probably won't be happy either... Well, anyway, Orson, you're amazing to experience something we haven't seen in a long time on your very first day here."

The little Infected brother rambled on, while Orson on the other side began to feel his heart race.

—Will I be sleeping under the same roof as FrostNova, or Talula?

The answer was Patriot...

Orson gently rolled over. His peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of a massive figure sitting on a chair nearby, like a demonic statue, with terrifying antlers on its helmet. He silently swallowed and rolled over to the other side.

"..."

—I can't sleep at all!!

Beside him was the Reunion's ultimate powerhouse, a living legend, the shield of Ursus whose true face no one had ever seen. Even with Orson's carefree nature, he couldn't fall asleep peacefully in this situation.

It wasn't just because of the physical pressure the other radiated, but also because Orson could feel a deep, deafening [Melody] emanating from Patriot, like that of a cello.

—This feeling again... Is my brain not normal?

Orson didn't yet understand what these [Melodies] represented, only feeling that he might be foolish.

—Anyway, at times like this, I should count Eyjafjalla!

Just as Orson was about to force himself to fall asleep, a deep voice emerged.

"What is your goal, survivor."

The voice was so low that Orson almost mistook it for the howling wind and snow. After a few seconds, he realized it was Patriot asking him.

"Uh, well... does surviving count?"

Although he didn't know the other's intention, Orson could only respond with a brave face.

If he pretended to be asleep now, he'd probably be tied naked to the big guy's spear and become a satellite.

"It counts, but you are different from those who seek survival."

"Then, protecting others?"

Orson noticed that Patriot's way of speaking hadn't been intermittent until now.

"Vague, it lacks foundation. Whom to protect, how to protect, how to protect—have you prepared answers to these questions?"

Orson, who thought this was just casual "bedtime chat," was left speechless by Patriot's questions.

And besides, what right or position did he have to protect anyone?

"Survive first, survivor. That thing on your neck is not just for show."

"...Mm, I know."

This chain and collar were proof that Talula and FrostNova could eliminate him at any moment, keeping him guarded.

—A goal?

Having drifted through this world in a daze, Orson was finally going to start thinking about this matter.

He vaguely recalled a girl once telling him to find someone worth protecting.

—A girl... Dandelion...

A sense of loss washed over him.

"There's one more thing. Keep it in mind."

Patriot's voice interrupted Orson.

"Please, guide me, Mr. Patriot!"

Orson earnestly awaited what life philosophies this living Ursus history would impart to a brash young man like himself.

"Don't touch my daughter."

"...Huh?"

06. Mission with Talula

Early morning—

The people living in the northern territories of Ursus are generally not woken by the sun or an alarm clock, but simply by the cold that pierces through their bedding.

"Mmm..."

Orson crawled out of his sleeping bag, letting the familiar biting cold awaken every sleepy cell in his body, while looking around in confusion.

His brain slowly sputtered to life. After a while, Orson came to his senses. This was no longer the village he had lived in for half a year, but a stronghold for Talula and the gathered Infected. No wonder he hadn't seen a bathroom.

The terrifying roommate, Patriot, had already disappeared. He probably followed FrostNova secretly, worried about her actions today? However, a brand new set of toiletries was placed on the table, which surprised Orson a bit.

It seemed this settlement did trade goods with other surrounding villages. It couldn't be that they were stolen, could it?

After wandering around all day yesterday, Orson had a general understanding of the settlement's situation. Everyone here was Infected, gathered because they needed to make a living or because they agreed with Talula's ideals. Unlike the later Reunion period, although these Infected harbored anger, they were not frenzied.

After washing up, Orson recalled his conversation with Patriot last night.

The goal of "protecting others" was indeed too vague and impractical. Without something truly related to oneself, protecting others was merely aimless pretense.