Itsuka Shiori: Could I Actually Be a Pig?

The necessary fuel to activate The Twelfth Bullet.

She needed it.

Even if obtaining it meant creating slaughter and becoming the monster she had once hated most.

—Only by reaching the past could she possibly defeat the source of all calamities.

Therefore...

She needed some help.

From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the man beside her. Beneath the affectionate gleam in her eyes lay greed and a fleeting trace of guilt.

Then she looked up at the blue-haired girl across from her.

Itsori...

A girl who was rather fascinating.

Kind, friendly, carrying herself with the air of a Saint Mother. Even toward her, the one who had ambushed her, she had remained benevolent—she had even said she wanted to protect and save her.

One of her clones had nearly been shaken by that once.

Could this do-gooder get angry too?

Was it because she was trying to steal her man?

She seemed to have subconsciously defined Russell as Itsori's man.

—That was easy enough to understand. Dressed like that, Itsori looked exactly like a housewife.

And she really was washing her hands and making soup.

On certain experience forums, dating experts often mentioned that "people who can cook find wives easily."

But that was complete bullshit.

—What normal girl would stupidly run over to an unfamiliar man's house just to watch him clatter away in the kitchen?

If she had no interest in him, she would not come even if he invited her. If she liked him, she would come even without food.

It was utterly unnecessary.

And what the girl before her was doing was clearly even more intimate than watching a man cook—she had gone to the home of a man living alone to cook for him!

Even if they had not yet exchanged their