I obeyed the senior’s order without hesitation.
Ricardo was cooking pasta. Oil pasta with octopus — the savory aroma filled the kitchen as noodles slid and sizzled in the pan.
God, I’m starving.
The scent alone sped up my hands as I set the table.
Just as I finished arranging everything neatly, the dish came out.
At Ricardo’s gesture for me to sit, I sat.
At his unspoken eat, I immediately complied.
“Wow.”
What the—?
The moment I took a bite, my eyes widened.
I stared dumbly at the pasta.
It was incredible.
The taste hit me like the first time I tried my favorite franchise’s basic noodles — that same overwhelming satisfaction. Those noodles had a special seasoning that matched me perfectly, but this... this was a universally perfect oil pasta.
I just stared at the pasta in awe.
“It’s amazing.”
Ricardo raised one eyebrow.
Seeing my expression, he let out a small laugh.
“Good~?”
“Yes. It’s really good.”
My vocabulary wasn’t nearly enough to describe how good it was.
I opened and closed my mouth several times, searching for words, but the fork never stopped moving. Maybe because I’d emptied my stomach earlier — the food went down even better.
When I had a bite of octopus with the noodles, another wave of bliss hit me.
I’d meant to apologize properly for troubling him earlier that afternoon... but that resolve quietly disappeared somewhere in the back of my mind.
Between happy bites, I said,
“It’s so good. As good as Lexic’s basic noodles.”
“Lexic...?”
“Yes. It’s a restaurant. I really love their basic noodles.”
Ricardo furrowed his brows slightly, then reached for his phone on the table.
While he swiped at it one-handed, I blissfully ate the oil pasta.
Until his next words made me choke.
“So you’re saying my food tastes like that shitty franchise pasta~?”
I coughed hard.
I almost spat the noodles back out, barely managing not to disgrace myself. Desperate to clear up the misunderstanding, I held my hands up.
“No— no, I meant that as a compliment! I really like their noodles!”
“And not even their best dish, just the basic noodles, huh....”
“That one’s the best! Honestly!”
I meant it. Completely.
But somehow, my sincerity never got through to this man.
It was harder to talk casually around him than even around Yun. Twirling my fork, I carefully glanced at the senior sitting across from me.
Ricardo stared at his phone a bit longer, then smirked.
“Just finish your food~.”
“...It’s seriously good though.”
“I said I believe you~.”
“If you don’t, I could take you there for dinner sometime—”
Wait. Should I even be saying that?
Halfway through the offer, I stopped.
The kitchen fell abruptly silent.
Ricardo, who’d been eating, immediately caught my change in tone.
His green eyes narrowed.
Unable to meet his gaze, I spun the fork and muttered,
“I’m sorry.”
He gave a short snort — half amusement, half disbelief.
My head sank lower. Trying to hide my fear, guilt, and awkwardness, I shoved another forkful of pasta into my mouth.
Even now... the pasta was delicious.
“Hildebert.”
The bite nearly stuck in my throat.
I swallowed with effort and answered.
“Yes.”
“You don’t regret betraying your own kind~?”
The fork froze midair.
I looked at the man across from me, motionless. He waited, gaze locked on me — the same as when he’d watched me fall out of the Portal.
I’d already decided I’d only ever tell him the truth.
I set my fork down.
“I don’t know.”
Because I still couldn’t remember the exact circumstances that led to that decision.
“I’ll only know after I’ve remembered everything.”
“Confident you can do that~?”
“There are four more of those games.”
Ricardo blinked.
I smiled faintly.
“One of them’s even in my cabin. If I dig through them all, maybe I’ll remember what I’ve forgotten.”
“So you’re saying you’ve got four more panic attacks to go.... That’ll be fun~.”
“I apologize for the trouble.”
I bowed slightly.
If only he’d just handed me the games — told me to solve the Easter Eggs alone in my cabin. Then his house, his hands, wouldn’t have gotten involved.
He had no reason to care about my situation.
Ricardo stayed silent for a while.
Then he broke it with another question that cut straight through.
“How close were you to the Creature Yehyeon killed?”
I exhaled softly.
Thankfully, I’d been expecting a difficult question — so the answer didn’t take long.
“He was my friend, my colleague, my comrade...”
He had been there since the very beginning — since I first started seeing the world for what it really was.
“I could barely imagine life without him.”
“So why did you give Yehyeon your sword?”
“Because I thought he might hesitate.”
I let a bitter smile curve my lips.
“If he hesitated for even a moment at the sight of my blade, he might have had a chance to win.”
Silence.
The long kitchen knife caught the light above the reddish-brown table. Salt, pepper, bay leaves, basil, pasta — all perfectly lined up. The kitchen was spotless, yet lived-in.
A space that suited him perfectly — quiet, precise, organized.
I figured it was about time to head back.
“If it were me, I don’t think I could’ve done what you did....”
Ricardo spoke like he was talking to himself.
I lifted my eyes.
He stared somewhere on the table, lids half-lowered.
“That’s normal. Not betraying them. Who would trust someone guilty of that kind of sin?”
“I told you I hated my family, didn’t I~?”
He didn’t lift his gaze.
The words he’d said in the collapsed stadium elevator came back. About how he’d hated his father, a mafia man, and had tried to run away. How he’d been searching for a way to leave when the disaster struck.
“I couldn’t stop a single crime that bastard committed.”
His voice was quiet and heavy.
“I thought about it a hundred times, but I never had the guts to act.”
“You must’ve been too young.”
I pointed out the obvious — gently but firmly.
Looking him straight in the eyes as he slowly raised his lids.
“And you loved your family.”
What could he have done?
No one would blame Ricardo for that. He’d been young — he’d loved his mother, his siblings. He’d known that if he destroyed his father, the whole family would fall with him.
That was never his sin.
I was about to say so when Ricardo gave a thin, bitter smile.
“You think you didn’t love yours~?”
Ah.
I was speechless.
Seeing my face, he smiled faintly, the bitterness deepening.
“So you’re going out there to kill them yourself?”
“Yes.”
Once I got my phone, I’d contact Yehyeon immediately.
I had to report what I’d remembered — and ask when I’d be cleared to go outside. He was surely arranging everything already, but after remembering so much, impatience gnawed at me.
Especially after reading Eve’s letter.
The air was thick with early-evening heat.
Ricardo lowered the elbow he’d been resting on the chair.
“I’m going too~.”
The words dropped like a bomb.
My eyes widened.
He must’ve found my expression amusing — a faint laugh colored his voice.
“Better to bend now than cling stubbornly and regret it later....”
I didn’t understand.
What stubbornness? What regret?
But I didn’t ask. I just sat there, speechless, then nodded automatically. A reflex born from urgency.
Only afterward did gratitude hit me.
And a heavy sense of guilt.
“Thank you.”
Quietly, I added,
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t apologize~. Makes me feel like I have to too~.”
He answered casually.
That was how the conversation ended.
Silence filled the kitchen again.
I ate the rest of the pasta in a haze of tangled emotions — not knowing if I wanted to cry, laugh, or scream.
He too focused silently on finishing his meal.
Afterward, we cleaned up in silence.
When I finished tidying up and was about to leave, Ricardo brewed coffee.
Espresso.
When I tried to dilute it, he barked,
“For god’s sake, don’t commit that barbaric act~.”
But this time, I stood my ground.
“I can’t drink that medicine-like stuff.”
Ricardo looked utterly exhausted dealing with someone who couldn’t appreciate “real taste.”
Well, I knew how his countrymen got about food. Their snobbery about drinks like Americano clearly hadn’t changed.
If I brought out Hawaiian pizza, he’d probably glare the same way.
So stubborn.
So I stood my ground and made my Americano right beside him.
After enduring his look of pure contempt and finishing my cup, I quickly headed for the door.
“I’ve caused enough trouble. I’ll be going now. Have a good night, senior.”
“Stay over~?”
“I’m truly grateful for the offer, but I miss my cabin too much. Haven’t been able to look after it for a few days.”
I replied with a light, practiced tone.
Then I looked at him leaning against the doorway and smiled wryly.
“I’m just gonna crawl into my blanket and cry myself to sleep.”
He studied me with that inscrutable look.
Still the same green eyes — difficult to read, but no longer burning with the same anger as before. Whatever had replaced it, I couldn’t tell.
The man nodded once in silence — a wordless farewell.
I returned the gesture quietly, then left for home.
***
“Hildebert.”
The next morning, I was greeted by someone I absolutely hadn’t expected.
“Your phone.”
Jonathan Kudo.
Standing there in the early morning light, holding a brand-new phone, was my patrol partner — the man who still lived in the past.
