Will You Make Breakfast for Me Tomorrow?

"So what do you think was going on with those 'Hollow Men' in the canyon?" Nick tapped his fingers against the railing. "Those monsters looked like a fusion of humans and plants. It's just baffling."

Dahlia stood up and gazed into the fog-shrouded canyon. Only after a long while did she turn back to Nick, her expression serious.

"You know? My dad used to tell me..."

Her expression suddenly changed, and she switched to Russian, adding a playful roll of her tongue. "Dasha, my precious little lion, you shouldn't always be so determined to seek the truth. Sometimes you're better off knowing nothing."

Her comical impersonation made Nick laugh, and he asked in Russian as well, "And then?"

Dahlia continued, "Then I'd keep pestering him with questions. 'Why, Papa? Why shouldn't I know the truth?'

"Then he'd tell me, 'Knowing too much of the truth will make you very sad. It might even break your mind.'"

Seeing the flicker in her eyes as she said this, Nick suddenly understood something. He curled his fingers against his chin and narrowed his eyes, studying her pretty face for a long while before abruptly asking a question.

"So the reason you were sad last night wasn't Valentine's Day, was it? It was because yesterday was February 14."

Dahlia's expression shifted slightly, and her smile vanished. After a long while, she stiffly tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Yes. I missed my dad."

She offered no further explanation, and Nick did not press her. She would tell him when the time came.

The heavy mood lasted only a moment. This time, Dahlia took the initiative to change the subject. "The view from here is wonderful. It feels better than the view from my side. Did you know that every night after we finish talking, I still sit by the window and look over here for a long time?"

"Of course. Sneaking peeks at me bathing. Pretty good physique, huh?" Nick gave a couple of smug hums.

Dahlia clapped a hand over her mouth, her beautiful eyes going round. "You actually noticed?"

Then the flush the alcohol had brought to her cheeks quickly deepened to a rosy red, until she looked as though she might start giving off steam.

"Of course. That time the bathtub broke and flooded the place, you kept grinning like an idiot over there the next day." The reason Nick thought this girl was so innocent was that she had hardly ever concealed her emotions in front of him.

Dahlia punched him in exasperation. "If you knew, why didn't you put up a curtain?"

It's not like I'm losing anything, Nick thought, but what came out of his mouth was sweet talk. "Wouldn't that make the view from your side even worse?"

"I don't care. Let me try your bathtub. My bathroom was built outside, and I've barely had a proper bath all winter."

Dahlia complained with a forced air of composure, but her darting eyes betrayed her inner fluster.

Her claim that she had not had a proper bath was most likely an excuse. When Nick had held her earlier, he had caught a faint scent of shampoo. Lavender.

But since she had said so, he was certainly not foolish enough to call her out on it.

So they divided the work, one heating water while the other helped clear the dishes and tidy the kitchen. Before long, Nick's "carefully crafted" pine bathtub was full of hot water, with a makeshift shower curtain drawn around it.

"You have nothing here apart from two bookshelves. Don't you get bored?"

Dahlia's question came from behind him, accompanied by the rustle of clothes being removed. Nick fought the urge to look back and silently took a deep breath.

Yet he seemed to catch a faint fragrance, one that none of his bathing products possessed, and it nearly made him choke on that breath.

"Ahem, ahem. It certainly can't compare to your place. Maybe it's because the Brits have always been so dull and boring, and their American cousins aren't much better."

Nick recalled the furnishings he had seen through the window of the East Tower. There was not only a record player inside, but even a piano. It really was enviable.

Dahlia's soft laughter came from behind him, along with the sound of her stepping into the water. "How strange. You make it sound like you're not American."

An idea stirred in Nick's mind, and he asked with feigned nonchalance, "What do you think of the East? I mean that ancient country with a history longer than Russia's. I remember you saying you loved Chinese food."

"I don't know." Dahlia did not give it much thought, treating it as idle conversation. "But two girls from the Far East who studied dance with me both married men from Cyrus.

"They said the men there were gentlemen, reserved and understated, and put a lot of importance on family. They also rarely drank, much less got drunk and beat them."

"..." Were Russian girls' standards for partners really that low?

"So you really like dancing? Why didn't you choose dance as a career instead of becoming a sniper?" The splashing behind him was making him restless, and Nick had to keep making conversation to distract himself.

"Because I like art." Dahlia's voice grew soft and tingling, as though she were deliberately plucking at his heartstrings.

"Making a perfect sniper shot is also art. Your shooting has improved incredibly fast these past few days. Isn't that precisely because you've discovered the joy in it?"

"Actually, I'm not very good at math, especially mental arithmetic." Compared with Russians and people from Cyrus, Nick silently added to himself.

"But I have to admit, the sense of achievement from landing a shot after repeated calculations and careful consideration really is unparalleled."

"My best record was 3,540 meters. There was an easterly wind at twenty-five knots, with gusts reaching forty, but I still did it." The string of figures Dahlia rattled off nearly made Nick turn around in astonishment to confirm them with her.

Because that distance was exactly the same as the world record for sniping he knew from his previous life. Setting aside the numerical coincidence, it at least proved one thing: the pretty girl taking a fragrant bath behind him was a genuine world-class sniper, a goddess of sniping!

But Dahlia's next words made Nick's heart sink.

"I've always looked forward to meeting my Prince Charming. A man who could surpass me at what I do best, who could truly conquer me."

"Um... does someone like that really exist?" There was a hint of bitterness in Nick's reply. Even if the Magic Movie Ticket rewarded him with a skill like "Never Miss" after the mission ended, it seemed it would still come too late.

"Of course. I always thought cooking was what I did best, until I tasted today's lunch..."

Another splash sounded behind him, followed by the sound of the shower curtain being pulled open. As Dahlia's voice drew closer, a pair of wet arms wrapped around Nick from behind.

"So, will you make breakfast for me tomorrow?"