Big Eater, and the Psychological Trauma of a Mongrel

The carnival was scheduled to last two weeks, a full fourteen days of celebration, yet just the morning of the first day had already been this nerve-racking.

That stage play just now had been utterly terrifying. The heroes of Azeroth World were utterly terrifying.

As I walked along and recalled that godawful play, cold sweat still broke out on me from time to time, especially when I thought of Andersen and the Grimm Brothers crying their heads off. Those three brothers really were tragic.

Their daughter had done nothing, yet she had somehow gone from wiping out her own family to becoming a war criminal who destroyed a nation.

Where should we go next? Although, as the chief person in charge of the organizers, wandering around at a time like this did make me seem like I was shirking responsibility, seeing all the cheerful scenes around me suddenly made me feel that continuing to shirk responsibility was actually a good idea. This carnival was meant to be free-form anyway. Other than maintaining order at the venue, the Imperial Army had no tasks at all, while the Time-Space Administration's governors were coordinating world transportation. Well, it looked like I had nothing to do, at least on this first day right after the opening ceremony.

Just as I was holding a guidebook confiscated from a certain red-and-white Urban Management Brigade captain and considering whether to watch the Zenith Star People and Ultraman's large-scale group calisthenics or enjoy a showdown between the Light Music Club and the Hatsune Family, Sandora suddenly bounced in front of me and shouted:

"A Jun, since we're free, let's go eat!"

Pandora beside her tugged at her own sleeve. Looking down, I saw the little loli gazing up at me from a pure forty-five-degree angle, her grayish eyes