There were no further words.
He naturally melted into the flow of passersby.
Our patrol district was a little distance from the Black Badger headquarters—a busy commercial area. Some patrol areas weren’t commercial zones, but the size of each sector depended on a Badger’s skill. Jonathan Kudo was said to be a genius at patrol work, capable of covering a large area by himself.
That meant today would involve a lot of walking and driving.
Feeling awkward, I lowered my outstretched hand and followed him.
The road was crowded with people rushing to work and cars honking impatiently.
Even as they hurried, people still stole glances at us in our Black Badger uniforms.
Ignoring the downward gazes, I walked beside my senior.
A strange silence, as if muffled beneath the city’s noise.
We wouldn’t be spending the entire day in silence, would we?
But my senior remained silent through three whole blocks.
He didn’t look like the kind of man who would start a conversation first.
I wasn’t the type who couldn’t stand silence, but staying quiet all day didn’t sound appealing either.
Walking along the sun-warmed pavement of early summer, I cautiously asked,
“Do you usually grab lunch at some nearby place while on patrol?”
Kudo’s eyes rolled toward me.
No change in expression.
“Usually, yes.”
Silence again.
I smiled brightly at him.
“What do you like to eat?”
The answer didn’t come right away.
Maybe he just doesn’t like me.
But he didn’t look displeased. The pause before he answered reminded me of John Mühlen somehow.
Should I just keep my mouth shut?
The moment I thought that, his flat answer came.
“Udon.”
Ah.
And now he’ll go silent again, won’t he?
He did.
I looked at him again and smiled.
Now I had a rough idea of how conversations with him would go all day.
“Do you know any good udon places?”
This time, I didn’t expect a quick reply.
Indeed, after the same long pause, the answer came.
“There’s a good place four blocks ahead, then take a right.”
“Then how about we go there for lunch today?”
His black eyes turned toward me again.
I met his gaze with a smile. The rush hour had passed, fewer people were on the sidewalks, and the sunlight had grown a little hotter.
My senior nodded.
Unbelievable.
Spending time with this man might be harder than fighting Creatures.
That was what I thought as I walked down the sun-bleached street—
and marveled at how sociable Choi Yun suddenly seemed by comparison.
***
What I learned from patrol duty was this: there were more small Creatures than I’d thought.
They weren’t seriously dangerous—just first to third-class Creatures—but I ran into them quite often. The Core citizens knew well how to avoid them and how to notify nearby Badgers of their locations. Kudo and I handled several of those cases over the next few days. They served as mild distractions more than real threats.
Sometimes there were days when we didn’t encounter any Creatures at all. Then we simply circled our district thoroughly and wrapped up the day.
They were uneventful days—so calm that it felt like we were just waiting for new reclamation assignments.
And as those quiet days stacked up, I gradually picked up little bits of information about Jonathan Kudo. Whenever the silence got unbearable, I would throw him random questions.
He always answered.
“Do you like cilantro?”
“No.”
“Ah. Then, what about dinner? Besides udon, what else do you like?”
Kudo liked tidy Japanese meals so neat that it was surprising he even used chopsticks properly.
I didn’t mind Japanese food either, so we usually ate at ordinary Japanese restaurants.
He never drank coffee after meals; if he was thirsty, he just bought water from a convenience store.
Kudo wasn’t the type to care much about food. He never said where he wanted to eat or what menu he preferred.
But there were things he disliked.
Especially that one time after we’d handled a Creature and impulsively stopped by a noodle franchise—he frowned deeply, his brows knit tight.
While I sat across from him, wide-eyed, devouring my meal like a lunatic.
“Why is this so good?”
Unfortunately, it suited my taste perfectly.
No, more than perfectly—it was shockingly delicious.
I’d ordered the basic flavor, and it turned out to be the best choice.
Was I going crazy?
“What ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ is this? Why is it so good? It’s amazing, but why isn’t there a line outside?”
“That’s because it’s not lunch hour for office workers right now. There is usually a wait from opening, not huge, but still pretty popular. The owner started with just one store, but it did so well that now it’s a franchise! There are already four in the southern district, and one more opening soon in the north!”
The waitress, who had been watching us—a man eating too happily and another eating too miserably—replied cheerfully to my muttering.
She had brown hair braided down her back and smiled as she raised her finger.
“The chili pork topping is the most popular!”
“Topping? The basic version’s already perfect.”
“You’re unusual. The number-one basic menu is actually the least sold.”
She frowned playfully at me.
Across the table, Kudo’s face read, Would a topping really make this better?
He eyed the menu suspiciously.
Sensing his doubt, the waitress pointed at the menu card on the table.
“I’m serious! I keep telling the owner to remove the basic flavor, but he refuses. This place got famous because of the chili pork topping! You should try it next time. The taste is totally different!”
“I doubt anything could beat the original.”
It was that good.
So good it almost brought tears to my eyes. I ignored my senior’s baffled stare and even asked the waitress,
“Is the owner here by any chance?”
“No, he rarely comes in.”
He must be living a happy life.
“But really, who even eats the basic one?”
***
It wasn’t until three full weeks into patrol duty that Jonathan Kudo brought up a topic on his own.
It was a night patrol day.
As usual, I met him on time, and we walked our sector in silence. While walking through the quiet streets, I revisited old memories, checked news updates on the land reclamation war, and replied to Shu’s message asking if she could borrow From E again because she wanted to watch Easter Eggs.
After finishing that, I walked with one hand resting on my sword’s hilt.
Then the silence became too much.
I just wanted him to say something.
So I asked at random,
“What do you usually do on your days off?”
Walking under a streetlight, Kudo didn’t look at me.
As usual, after his characteristic pause, he replied slowly,
“I hang out with Ricardo, or if Ska’s free, the three of us go to a bar.”
“You three must be close friends.”
No answer meant yes.
I didn’t bother confirming. I didn’t joke either—he wasn’t the type to respond to that.
In the chilly dawn, where not even footsteps echoed, another question came to mind.
“You three are in the same class, right?”
He nodded.
“You’ve known each other for a long time then. If one of you got reassigned to another Core, it’d feel lonely, wouldn’t it?”
“...Ricardo seems to care about you quite a bit.”
That was unexpected.
It was also the first time he had said something not directly answering my question.
I was so surprised that I turned to look at him, mouth slightly open—and our eyes met.
But the brief shock and faint happiness didn’t last.
I smiled bitterly and turned forward again.
“That’s all in the past, sir.”
Ricardo hadn’t contacted me since that day.
“You haven’t seen him recently, have you?”
Kudo looked straight at me.
A gaze impossible to read.
Not sharp like Yun’s, but now that I was used to it, I didn’t mind.
Conversation over, I thought.
It wasn’t.
“I saw him yesterday.”
...What?
He saw him yesterday and didn’t even know we’d cut ties?
Were we even talking about the same thing?
I blinked, baffled.
Naturally, my senior seemed unaware of what was wrong. My own expectation was foolish.
I sighed inwardly, then accepted it.
A small laugh escaped me.
Even after three weeks, that hit harder than expected.
I glanced at him and asked quietly,
“Is he doing well?”
Kudo stared at me for a long moment.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
I gave a reflexive, bitter smile.
Resting my hand on the sword at my hip, I looked out at the city night. Between the streetlights, the road was long and dark. The path painted in yellow light seemed endless.
“He wouldn’t like that.”
Kudo blinked, expression unreadable.
“Well, it’s good to hear he’s safe.”
Worried he might dig further, I hurried to change the subject.
“By the way, sir, I’ve been meaning to ask—your phone looks ancient, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t react to the sudden shift in topic.
“You’re not going to replace it?”
“No.”
The reply came faster than ever before—firm and immediate.
Had I offended him? Looks like today’s conversation ends here.
But then he turned forward again, eyes fixed on the road that seemed to stretch on forever, and added one more quiet line.
“I like this one.”
A stubborn answer, impossible to argue with.
***
A month passed since I began patrol duty with this peculiar senior.
To my surprise, on the morning of our next scheduled day shift, I received notice that Jonathan Kudo had taken a day off.
The man who hadn’t been late by even a minute for a month—taking leave?
Curious, I asked the control center that handled scheduling, and they replied casually:
[Probably his wedding anniversary.]
Ah.
That’s right, he did mention he’d been married.
So he’d gone to commemorate his late wife? Judging by the past tense he used, he probably hadn’t remarried.
Either way, it wasn’t something to pry into, so I just said I understood.
Normally in this case, we patrolled alone.
If a Creature too strong to handle alone appeared, we’d call for backup from HQ.
If we felt uneasy, we could request a temporary partner for the day, but I didn’t.
I should be fine handling most things myself.
If something I couldn’t handle showed up, I’d just call for support immediately...
That’s what I thought, walking casually on my solo patrol.
Until lunchtime—
when I witnessed something so shocking that I froze in place.
My senior—smiling.
Sitting by the restaurant window, smiling.
I hadn’t thought it possible, yet there he was—Jonathan Kudo, wearing a calm, beautiful smile.
And across from him, holding his hand gently—
a mysterious woman.
