Sent Back to My Hometown (Continued)

"...Thank you." Miss Surtr's lips twitched, and she tried to put on a gentle smile—she took the skewer and, under Kal'tsit's expectant gaze, put the delicious food into her mouth.

Chew.

The texture is smooth yet has a perfect chewiness, with complex aromas intertwining and stimulating the taste buds on the tongue. The saltiness is just right, the flavor is superb—all of this is an illusion.

Ah... of course it's an illusion. After all, Ashen Body isn't made of flesh and blood; fire flows in its veins, and its shell is more of a conceptual construct than a rich collection of neurons—immortality is one of the reasons for the curse, because the undead have no sense of taste, no sense of smell, and even their sense of touch gradually disappears over time, leaving only their obsession and thirst for fire. And Miss Surtr, naturally, is the same—

—Hmm...?

Fragmented memories suddenly surfaced in my mind—the interactions between myself and her, myself and them, myself and the Surtr at the cellular level. And in that debate, I seemed to have convinced some of my cells to acknowledge that they were members of the Surtr, a part of them.

This memory... seems meaningless?

However, the next moment, her eyes widened suddenly! An inspiration flashed into her mind, and she subconsciously pushed it forward!

Her body... was changing! Her mouth, throat, tongue, pharynx, nose, and teeth—the Ashen Body in this world—were rapidly transforming!

Ashes are still ashes, but they take on the structure of cells—the remnants of fire give rise to the membranes and nuclei of cells, and taste buds and senses are thus generated!

—This is...the mouth, nose, and tongue I had in Terra?

An unbelievable change occurred to her self-awareness, and that long-lost familiar sensation immediately appeared in her mind—she knew, she knew that the body she possessed in each world was subtly different. Yet at this moment, her own mouth and tongue delivered that familiar Terra flavor to her!

—This taste...this taste...

—Just as unremarkable as in Terra!

"W-what's wrong?" Perhaps startled by her exaggerated reaction, Miss Lynx's voice and movements were somewhat stiff and stammering. "Isn't this a bit inappropriate..."

"It's delicious." Surtr replied with a smile, but his hands moved quickly. In just a few moments, he stuffed the skewer into his mouth and chewed it carefully before swallowing. The moment the food left his throat and fell into his trachea, it was burned away by the flames flowing inside his ashes, but the flavor was fully absorbed between his lips and teeth.

—Sure enough, there has been no progress, just like more than four years ago.

While it might be considered delicious by the average person, it's only at the level of a typical hotel chef. It's probably fifteen Matterhorn below the skill of Persephone?

—Oh, I forgot, the Matterhorn is still in Kalan, but I was both a VIP and an rude guest when I passed by the snow-capped mountains last time... Oh well, why bother with such trivial details? Compared to such insignificant details as taste... there are two more important things that need to be dealt with immediately.

—The first thing is the change in myself. And the second thing...

Miss Surtr raised her hand and stopped Kal'tsit from handing over the second string of pearls.

"Kal'tsit, I still remember the last time I tasted your flavor." She gazed at the Miss Lynx before her, her eyes filled with obvious nostalgia. "That was four years and seven months ago on Terra, not long after I Sarkaz Babel Tower. W's operation went awry that time, and it took me almost half a month to get her out—when I returned, you took care of me and her in place of Theresia, who was away on business, and even prepared a nutritious meal for me."

"Stewed meat, fried lotus root sandwiches, scrambled eggs with shrimp—you cut your hand while peeling the shrimp, it was your left ring finger, and you didn't realize you were injured until I pointed it out."

"You..." Kal'tsit's voice trembled slightly. She seemed to want to run away, but the slender fingers that were pressing on her palm grabbed her wrist.

"You... you remember everything?"

"Of course I remember." Miss Surtr gazed intently and recounted, "I remember every single, insignificant moment we shared." — Sorry, I even remember things from my past life, so naturally I wouldn't forget such recent memories.

"What I remember even more is that, in the beginning, the relationship between us... you and me, was not as rigid as it was later, as it was until before."

"When I experience something interesting, I think of sharing it with you. When I pass by your office, I habitually stop by to visit and try to help. And you, Kal'tsit, back then, would at least pour me a cup of tea when I came over, and sometimes, if you had some free time, you would prepare some snacks for me as a reward."

—I even know that sometimes, when Theresia is busy, the Häagen-Dazs that you deliver is actually made by you. At least in the early stages of the war, this happened three or five times... Most people might not be able to taste the difference, but I can tell. No one in all of Terra knows more about ice cream than me. And that's one of the reasons why I always pay extra attention to you.

—But, since when...

"But, since when..." Miss Surtr's eyes softened with longing. "The way you and I interact has become like this?"

"Did I do something wrong? Did I offend you in some way?... I used to think that way, and I tried to change myself to become a better person. But every effort I made seemed to end up with... less than ideal results. Sometimes I thought you were the type who tended to give a cold shoulder to people you knew well. But in the end, I realized that I was the only one who received this treatment."

Kal'tsit opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something urgently. But before she could speak, Miss Surtr raised her hand to stop her.

"I wanted to go back to how things were before, but I failed. After failing many times, I gave up. But now... Kal'tsit, I think we can still be friends."

Her words contained determination, but not even a sliver of hope.

"..."

Kal'tsit remained silent for several seconds.

She seemed to try to encourage herself several times, but in the end, it all turned into helplessness. Only a soft whisper escaped her lips.

"What if... what if I were like you used to think? That I'm more like that with people I'm closer to..."

Miss Surtr, however, simply watched her quietly.

"We're all adults. Kal'tsit, you and I, we're all adults." — The biggest difference between adults and children is that adults realize they must take responsibility for their actions. Because what is done cannot be undone, even if one is unwilling to take responsibility, the consequences must still be borne.

So the emerald-haired Miss Lynx closed her eyes, holding back the bitter tears welling up inside her eyelids.

"Yes, we are all adults... we can't act like children."

She took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes again, a smile that she tried her best to keep as natural as possible was forming on her lips.

"We can still be friends. Surtr... if that's what you're hoping for, we can be very good friends."

She sniffed.

"I... I'll go prepare another dinner."

"Yes, thank you for your hard work. I'll do it next time, but I have something to do this time... I'll be back in a bit," Miss Surtr said softly, nodding to her.

The next moment, the red-haired figure soared into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky with a whooshing sound.

Kal'tsit watched her walk away.

Only after she disappeared did the green-haired Miss Lynx turn around. She first glanced at the Fire Keeper, who had been hiding in the caravan and hadn't moved for a long time. Then she looked at the campfire, which was about to go out due to lack of care... Finally, she lowered her head and looked at the still-warm kebab in her hand.

She ate the roasted meat.

"There's too much fragrance in it, inhale—" she said, wiping her eyes as she spoke. Perhaps because of the excessive use of stimulating fragrances, tears streamed down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.

After the meat was consumed, she took a deep breath, raised the iron bar, and pointed the sharp end at her left eye.

If it penetrates directly into the brain, it guarantees a clean and swift death.

But...

—What am I doing? Forcing her to choose me again?

She suddenly laughed silently, and the iron rod fell to the ground with a faint sound.

"At least we can still be friends," she said to herself.

"At least, I still have a chance to start over as friends."