The Matter of Me Being Picked Up and Adopted by Talula Chapter 7

Like a child who has caught a glimmer of hope but is too afraid to touch or look directly at the light.

09. Rabbits Eating Carrots

On the stark, icy snow, Orson was dressed in the Abyssal Hunters' uniform, sitting on the branch of a dead tree.

He swung his legs back and forth in mid-air while jotting something down in the notebook in his hand.

"What are you writing, Orson?"

Another infected individual from the Abyssal Hunters, named Petrova, wearing the same uniform, looked up curiously and asked.

Their mission was "Vigilance, Reconnaissance," but in an environment where not even a snowdrift could be seen within a two-kilometer radius, anything other than an illusion archer would be detected immediately.

Because of this, neither of them was particularly tense. Orson was slacking off, and Petrova was looking for conversation.

"An outline."

"Huh?"

"It's like a story synopsis. Tonight, I'm planning to tell Ino about Fist of the North Star. It's a story about a hot-blooded man in a post-nuclear wasteland who follows his inner justice, punishes evil, often rips open his clothes in public, and makes all sorts of strange noises."

"...Why does that sound like he's just a pervert?"

Petrova sighed. Orson, this "substitute Abyssal Hunter" and "temporary substitute teacher" in the settlement, could sometimes tell many interesting and captivating stories, but occasionally he would tell some inexplicably nonsensical ones.

Laterano and Lupo dragging a rich Caprinae while dodging the Sicilian Mafia and causing destruction all over Lungmen? Even a wild Ursus rabbit wouldn't believe such a story.

"Speaking of which, how is Ino doing?"

Petrova shook her head, trying to dismiss the absurd "Orson's bedtime stories," and asked about the current situation of the shy Liberi boy.

"While his personality is still very timid, and he still likes to stick close to Sasha, he's recently started to be able to do some chores independently. And last time, he made this for me."

Orson pointed to the scarf wrapped around his neck. The material wasn't great, but the craftsmanship was surprisingly solid.

"Oh... so that's why he was secretly watching me knit before."

Petrova said with emotion, then expressed some envy.

"I specifically picked out '100 Stories Every True Man Must Read!' but I feel like Ino's feminine charm is only growing stronger..."

Orson rubbed his hair, his expression a bit awkward.

He had initially just wanted Ino, who would later become Mephistopheles, to go down the right path, so he took special care of him.

But in the end, while he hadn't become strange, he had become strange in a different sense...

"Um, Petrova, is it normal for a child to knit a scarf for himself?"

"Yes, it shows that the child is very sensible."

"Then, is it also normal for him to like to come close when we eat?"

"Mhm, perhaps he feels more secure that way."

"Is it okay for him to stare at me the whole time when I'm reading?"

"Yes, it means he's studying very diligently."

"And it's also a common occurrence for him to sneak into my bed when sleeping?"

"You should turn yourself in."

"Hey!?"

That's right, although Ino was steadily progressing towards becoming a model youth under Orson's guidance, his innate "pathological" personality seemed to be slowly entwining itself around Orson in another way.

Orson had decided that the moment Ino started watching works like [Brokeback Mountain], [Beast Senior's Beautiful Voice Class], or [Dark Deep Fantasy Tales], he would pack his bags and run.

A pale, weak, clingy, and soft-spoken individual. Orson, despite being straight, wasn't sure if he would accidentally give his soul to Mephistopheles... no, Lucifer.

"The signal is coming through."

Petrova's voice snapped Orson out of his worry. A signal was sent from the village in the distance. Orson closed his notebook and gently leaped down from the tree.

Tuning - Wide Area Low Frequency.

Invisible Originium Arts fluctuations spread out from Orson as the center. This was a detection ability used in open areas to scan beyond visual range.

"No problem, no Enforcement Team ambushes around."

Orson stopped his Originium Arts, and Petrova then sent the signal.

Not long after, a group of people returned from the distant town, led by FrostNova. They carried transport vehicles loaded with supplies, and their expressions were relaxed.

"How did it go, Big Bear?"

Petrova asked a member of the Abyssal Hunters, who grinned and gave a thumbs-up.

"The trade was a success! This village is one of the few that are friendly towards infected individuals. Not only were there no Enforcement Team ambushes around, but they've even agreed to long-term trade with us!"

"That's great..."

Petrova let out a sigh of relief, while Orson, on the other side, stared at the leader of the Abyssal Hunters, the big rabbit FrostNova.

"...What is it?"

FrostNova frowned and asked.

"You seem really happy today, FrostNova."

"Happy? There's nothing to be happy about."

FrostNova responded coldly, while Big Bear, remembering something, clapped his hands.

"Ah, the village chief thought Big Sister's long ears were cute, so he gave Big Sister some carrots."

"Big Bear!?"

FrostNova's fair cheeks immediately flushed crimson as she scolded Big Bear in a flustered, angry tone.

"Maa, maa, maa, no need to be so nervous, FrostNova. I won't snatch the carrots from you, so you can gnaw on them slowly—Pffft!"

Before Orson could finish speaking, his mouth was stuffed full of snowballs. A joyous atmosphere immediately erupted within the group.

"Orson, you've angered Big Sister FrostNova again today!" "No way!"

"I saw you tugging her tail with my own eyes, and she chased you with ice blocks!" "That's not angering her... that's petting a rabbit, petting a rabbit isn't angering...!"

—Dialogues like these had become a regular occurrence.

It had been over 20 days since Orson was almost killed and picked up by Talula.

At some point, Orson had shed his identity as a prisoner and servant. He got along well with everyone, becoming a "certified substitute teacher." He was gradually getting the hang of Originium Arts for [Tuning], and sometimes he would even go on missions with the Abyssal Hunters, like today, only to be hung from the rafters by Patriot upon their return.

Sasha, also known as Faust, had become increasingly skilled with his crossbow, and Ino, also known as Mephistopheles, had become even more adept at tailing Orson (?).

His life and the lives of the guerillas seemed to be gradually shifting in a positive direction, but Orson didn't think so.

"I looked around the settlement and didn't see you, so you were here, Sister Talula."

Orson entered the room where "Alina" slept. Talula was leaning against the wooden bed with her eyes slightly closed. She gently opened them upon hearing Orson's voice.

"I was just taking a short break... Welcome back, Orson."

Talula smiled at Orson, but Orson's expression was somewhat somber.

"...Still haven't made up your mind?"

"—"

Talula averted her gaze, not responding to Orson's question.

10. The campfire, gradually dying out

To change the shape of an object, one only needs to carve it with a hammer and pickaxe.

To change the state of an object, one only needs to change its temperature with fire or ice and snow.

But to change a person's "soul"... what price must be paid?

"Let me think about it..."

That was Talula's answer to Orson back then, and it remained her answer to this day.

She still couldn't make a decision, whether to reject Orson's risky actions or to acknowledge his search for a miracle.

"FrostNova returned from another village. We successfully established trade relations with them, Sister Talula. And with the baijiu the Enforcement Team brought last time, we exchanged it for enough food to last at least 10 days."

Orson relayed the results of his recent actions to Talula. She nodded slightly, then looked at Alina beside her.

"We are making steady progress, Alina, aren't we."

Talula reached out and gently stroked the hair of the Elafia girl.

"..."

Orson watched silently from the side. He didn't receive a response from Talula, nor could he ease the tension in her, like a string about to snap. He also couldn't fathom the nature of the black dissonance that wrapped around Talula's soul.

During this time, Orson had done many things to "satisfy his vanity" and "to avoid being condemned by his conscience," trying his best to change the Reunion, which would become the enemy of the world in the future.

Despite doing many things and integrating himself into the team, Orson didn't know if his actions were of any use.

He always felt that everything he did might completely vanish with Talula's "breakdown," much like a snowman melting beside a roaring bonfire.

Orson would frown every time he saw Talula's "white musical score" about to crack. He wished he could ease Talula's strained nerves, but Orson didn't know about Alina and Talula's relationship, nor could he do anything for the two of them.

He only knew that Alina was a special existence to Talula, and in the main storyline of the game... this little deer did not exist within Reunion.

Could her death be the last straw that would cause Talula to completely break down?

If that were the case, he had to forcibly [Tune] her, but this process would likely take a long time, and he definitely wouldn't be able to do it without being discovered.

Orson had previously tried to use "Soul Tuning" on a living being, or more precisely, a member of the Infected Enforcement Team.

The final result was that the person completely broke down and defected, but Orson also fell unconscious for several hours due to using this ability for the first time.

Even if "destruction" that didn't require precision consumed a lot of analytical power, then the more precise "repair" would definitely not be an easy feat.

"Let's go, Orson. The meeting is about to start. Let's celebrate FrostNova, and then we can think about how to spend tomorrow."

Talula stood up from the chair, preparing to leave the room.

"Are you alright, Sister Talula?"

Orson's concern made Talula smile.

"You ask me this every day, Orson. Of course, I'm fine. I won't be anything but fine. My compatriots await my appearance, and I am 'undying.' I am a fighter who will press on no matter what, who will not be defeated."

"You know that's not what I mean... sigh."

Watching Talula rise and leave the room, Orson sighed. He picked up the pen on the table next to him and added a new mark on the calendar next to Alina.

Orson glanced at the still-sleeping Elafia girl. Her white musical score remained pure, only missing a single fragment. Orson believed he could mend it, but the only problem was that Talula didn't seem ready for it yet.

"You've worked hard, haven't you? You've been trying your best to keep her from completely breaking down. I'll keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't go down the wrong path, and then, we'll reunite."

—After all, one 'fake teacher' in the settlement just isn't enough.

Orson gave Alina a slight nod before leaving the room to follow Talula towards the bonfire.

It was afternoon. The members of the resistance were gathered around the bonfire in the center of the settlement, discussing their future actions with various expressions.

"Although we established trade relations with the village near the southeast side today, to be honest, the resources we can use are still far from enough."

FrostNova sat on the ground, her ears drooping, speaking with a somewhat serious tone.

"The source of medicine has always been a major problem, and over 70% of our food so far has come from trade. However, there aren't many villages or outposts left for us to explore nearby. Most of the villages further south are under the jurisdiction of nobles, and we might encounter unnecessary trouble."

FrostNova laid out the settlement's current awkward situation, and everyone fell silent for a moment.

"That's right, the further south we go, the more resistance we're likely to encounter. Nobles' informants, private armies, the Enforcement Team, even regular armies – these forces could all potentially clash with us. The risk of group operations becomes much greater. What we need to do now is to obtain more reliable communication equipment as soon as possible, and a systematic set of easy-to-learn communication codes... Honestly, these goals are not easy to achieve."

Talula responded thoughtfully to FrostNova. As Talula pondered their future course of action, some infected individuals approached her.

"Talula—"