"Very good."
Morris gathered his owl into his arms, satisfied.
Like the undead cat, its body felt icy to the touch.
"Hoo-hoo-"
But unlike the docile undead cat, this owl seemed unwilling to be held by Morris and began struggling fiercely in his arms.
"Hold still."
Morris gave the order in a low voice, hugging the struggling owl even tighter.
There was no denying it: holding such an icy little thing in the middle of summer felt surprisingly comfortable.
After receiving Morris's order, the owl reluctantly settled down, though low hoots still rumbled deep in its throat.
Clearly, he was protesting.
But his protest was overruled.
Morris shifted position and continued holding his owl.
Finally, the owl could take no more.
Its pitch-black body suddenly dissolved into a mass of shadow, instantly merging into the shadow at Morris's feet and vanishing without a trace.
His arms were suddenly empty, with only a faint trace of chilly air lingering.
Morris froze for a moment, then looked down at the utterly ordinary shadow beneath his feet and said excitedly, "Is this your ability?"
He tentatively gave the shadow an order. "Come out."
A slight ripple passed through the shadow at his feet, but the owl did not appear. There was only an extremely faint, resistant rumble.
Morris raised an eyebrow. Rather than getting angry, he laughed.
"You've got personality. All right, suit yourself."
"Hmm... in that case, let's give you a name first."
"Let me think..."
Morris suddenly noticed the thoroughly damp fireworks sitting in the corner.
"I'll call you Yanhua."
The moment he finished speaking, the shadow at his feet began churning violently. Blackness surged upward, quickly coalescing into the owl's original form.
Yanhua's eyes, burning with spectral blue flames, were now wide and round, filled with protest.
"Hoo-!!!"
Unfortunately, his protest was overruled again.
And just like that, Yanhua's name was casually settled.
Perhaps because his own blood had been mixed into the magic circle, Morris could sense Yanhua's emotions to a certain extent.
Although Yanhua acted very resistant toward Morris.
That sense of closeness rooted deep in the soul could not be hidden.
Simply put, he was a tsundere.
At that thought, Morris picked Yanhua up and rubbed him a few more times.
Yanhua let out a short cry that bordered on embarrassed indignation, even his feathers seeming ready to bristle.
Almost immediately, he gave up struggling. His body dissolved into shadow again and swiftly seeped into Morris's shadow, disappearing even more decisively than before.
Morris couldn't help smiling.
What an interesting child.
So he forcibly ordered Yanhua out again and thoroughly played with him.
After a morning of testing, Morris figured out the rules governing Yanhua's ability.
What he knew was that Yanhua, the undead owl, could only attach himself to the shadow cast by Morris himself and could not enter the shadow of any other object.
Moreover, Yanhua could only enter or leave it when Morris had a shadow.
Once they were in a dark environment where the light was completely blocked, the "door" into and out of the shadow would close in both directions.
If Yanhua was already inside the shadow, he would remain trapped there.
This ability was very convenient, allowing Morris to carry Yanhua with him at all times.
And judging by the emotions Yanhua conveyed, resting inside the shadow was actually extremely comfortable.
So Morris decided to let Yanhua stay in his shadow during ordinary times.
There was no telling when he might be able to help.
At lunchtime, dessert appeared on the children's home's dining table for the first time in a long while-a small slice of chocolate cake for each person.
A sinful mixture of sugar and fat.
But Morris didn't dislike it. In fact, he could even be said to love it.
That cloying sweetness suited his tastes perfectly.
Scott carefully poked the edge of his cake with a fork, looked up at the caregiver beside him, and casually asked, "Is today some special occasion? We're actually having cake."
The caregiver paused, looking just as puzzled. "Honestly, I'm not really sure either. The kitchen prepared everything."
Probably because of Harold, Morris thought.
Though he had no evidence.
Speaking of which, Harold was very interested in his undead owl, and Morris had promised to show it to him.
It would be best to fulfill that promise as soon as possible.
After lunch, Morris went to the reception room and found a black telephone.
Probably unused for a long time, it had gathered a thin layer of dust.
After he entered the number Harold had left him, a long busy tone sounded in the receiver.
"...This is taking forever."
Just when he thought no one would answer.
"Hello?" A little girl's clear, childish voice suddenly rang out.
Morris froze, wondering whether he had dialed the wrong number.
"Is anyone there?" The girl's voice carried a child's distinctive lightness.
"I'm looking for Mr. Green," Morris said cautiously.
"Daddy's busy," the girl said sweetly.
It seemed Harold had given him his home number, which surprised Morris a little.
"Could you please ask Mr. Green to come to the phone?" he asked, softening his voice.
"Please hold."
Light footsteps came from the other end of the receiver, gradually fading into the distance.
Then came a muffled conversation. Though he couldn't make out what was being said, he could tell that one of the speakers was probably Harold himself.
"Hello?" Harold's voice finally came over the phone.
"It's Morris, Mr. Green," Morris quickly explained. "The problem with that owl has been resolved. Would you like to come take a look?"
"I'll be right over," Harold replied immediately, his tone distinctly eager.
About an hour later, Morris saw Harold at the children's home.
"Where's your owl?" Harold immediately stepped forward upon seeing him.
"In the courtyard."
Morris headed toward the courtyard as he spoke.
At this hour, the courtyard was deserted.
He didn't want to expose Yanhua's special ability, so he hadn't let Yanhua stay in his shadow.
Morris led Harold down the corridor.
"So, you cured that bird's illness?" Harold asked with concern.
"No." Morris stopped at the courtyard entrance and calmly shook his head. "It died, but I brought it back to life."
Standing in the courtyard, Morris whistled.
A black figure leaped down from the eaves, landing steadily on Morris's raised arm.
Harold recognized it. This was the listless owl from yesterday.
But now it was much more spirited, even excessively so. Even its eyes looked so lively they seemed to be burning...
No!
Those eyes really were burning!
Harold could clearly see the spectral blue flames dancing in the owl's eye sockets.
He stared blankly, his throat a little dry. "This is... what you meant by bringing it back to life?"
"It's an undead creature. You can touch it," Morris said, extending his arm a little farther. "You'll understand right away."
Yanhua stood quietly on Morris's forearm, adding almost no weight at all-another of his traits.