Luck didn't argue. After what he did, the system calling him an idiot was getting off easy.
Still, it counted as a win because she finally opened up to him.
And, if he was being honest, hugging someone like her—a solid ten—wasn't a bad experience either.
Back when he was still a genius, girls used to throw themselves at him.
It happened more often than he liked to admit.
But back then, he was younger and spent time pretending to be the mysterious type from anime. Not the main hero, but the side character everyone liked better.
So, he ignored all the immature high school girls. Not because he wasn't interested, but because it felt cooler to act like he wasn't.
Looking back, maybe that was dumb. But it felt right at the time.
Now, things were different. He was old enough to try for real. This time, he wanted to feel it.
'There has to be something I can do.'
He thought a little more effort could help. Nothing huge, just enough to move her heart more.
So, he made a plan. Nothing fancy—just lunch.
He dragged a foldable table out to the side of the motel, right where the sun couldn't reach.
The air was warm, but the shade helped.
He wiped the dust off the table with the side of his sleeve, then set out two plastic chairs. Uneven, but they'd do.
After that, he pulled out his laptop and placed the order—one large pizza with double cheese, a bucket of fried chicken, and a one-liter bottle of Coke.
He hesitated when he saw the price. Way above what he usually spent on a meal. His thumb hovered over the confirm button longer than it should've.
While waiting, he sat outside on one of the chairs, eyes fixed on the door.
A soft whoosh came, quick and sharp. Suddenly, everything he ordered appeared in front of the door.
'I wonder if I'll be able to see the delivery guy once I'm strong enough.'
He guessed that after trying a small experiment. Earlier, he scattered dry leaves on the doorstep where the items usually appeared.
Now, all the leaves were disturbed.
That meant it wasn't teleportation. Something moved through fast enough to push the leaves aside without being noticed.
Like a speedster in a superhero movie.
If he was right, that was terrifying. Someone that fast wasn't just fast—they were dangerous. And yet, that same person worked as a delivery boy for his grandfather.
That realization made his skin crawl.
'What kind of background does my grandfather even have...?' he muttered.
'And why did he give me this place? It can't be just because he cares. Guys like him—sleeping with tens of thousands of women—don't usually love anyone but themselves.
He set everything up while quietly mulling over those questions.
Once it was ready, he wiped his hands on his pants, walked over to her door, and knocked twice.
"Lady Neve" he called out, keeping his tone light. "Lunch's ready. Want to come eat with me?"
For a moment, there was silence. He was afraid that she would turn him down. But then, the door clicked open.
She stepped out, not looking afraid or distant this time. In fact, she smiled.
"Yes," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want to eat lunch with you,"
Now that she acted more relaxed, her beauty seemed to shine even brighter.
She kept sneaking little looks at him, then quickly looked down, her cheeks turning pink.
It was too much stimulation for him to handle all at once.
Good thing he was a genius and prepared ahead—covering his pants right now was a barista apron.
"Come," he said, stepping aside to let her pass.
Guiding her toward the table, he kept his eyes low, trying not to stare but unable to stop the faint heat rising in his chest.
The shade provided a cool refuge from the sun, and the smell of pizza and chicken filled the air.
Next, he opened the boxes.
Her eyes widened in surprise. The pizza looked perfectly golden, the chicken crispy and fresh.
"Why is this chicken orange?" she asked, poking it gently with her fingers, surprised by the crispy texture.
"Oh, I like to cook—and experiment a bit," he said, clearing his throat. "This is a special mix of flour, spices, and crushed onions and garlic. Give it a try."
She took a bite, and almost immediately, her eyes watered a little.
It was the most delicious fried chicken she ever tasted—making the palace food dull by comparison.
She took another bite, then another, but her mouth was too small for the big piece, so she ended up making a little mess.
Luck noticed and gently raised his hand to wipe the crumbs from her cheek.
"Did you like my cooking?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.
She blinked, cheeks flushing pink from the attention, and nodded shyly.
"Try this pizza. I'm sure you'll like it too." He grinned. "I kneaded the dough myself. Took a few shortcuts, but the recipe's solid."
He handed her a slice. Since she was still holding the drumstick, he playfully said, "Ahh," as a joke.
To his surprise, she actually opened her mouth.
She bit into the mozzarella cheese, which stretched and clung to her lips, thick and sticky enough to look like it was something else.
'God, she's adorable... I kind of want to kiss her and taste that cheese,'
Her beauty was messing with his head, stirring up strange feelings and daydreams which were borderline weird.
"Ahh," he said again, feeding her more—mostly for his own amusement than hers.
There was something about watching a pretty face nibble on sticky white cheese that made his heart beat faster.
And looking at the way her neck moved as she swallowed made him gulp without thinking.
'Will she swallow mine too?'
I was very busy the past few days, so uploads slowed down. Don't worry, things will pick up again starting June 6.