Polygamy?
Rohan swallowed a middle-aged uncle's exclamation at the long-forgotten taste of alcohol and glanced at Sion and Clara.
The way they gulped it down was hilarious just to watch.
"How's your first taste of booze?"
"Far better than I expected. So this is what liquor tastes like."
"I-it's... delicious...!"
Great reactions. A satisfied smile spread across Rohan's lips.
He checked on Ichinose, who was pecking at it like a sparrow.
"What do you think? To your taste?"
"Yeah. Did you make it well? It's flavorful and goes down smooth."
"Gimme more! And meat! Ramen too!"
Noah popped up out of nowhere, thrusting her glass forward.
The whiskey he'd filled it with was gone—who knew where—and only half-melted ice rolled around inside.
Noah liked her drinks, but she wasn't chugging out of impatience. Recalling her everyday habits, she just ate and drank fast by nature.
"Slow down. It'll hit you all at once."
"I'm built like Mom and Dad, so I should be fine?"
"Put away the untested guesswork. Stick to sipping and focus on the meat."
"Meat!"
Rohan piled meat onto Noah's side plate after she grabbed her glass.
Getting drunk was just another status ailment, like what they'd learned at Orion Academy.
If you could wield mana to a certain degree, you could forcibly shake off alcohol's effects.
Dispersing intoxication was the first step in training to endure deadly poisons.
So drinking and getting tipsy wasn't a big deal.
The real issue was keeping enough willpower and mental clarity to circulate mana.
Once you were dead drunk and incoherent, it was game over.
That's why.
Rohan cut back on the whiskey ratio, topped it with soda water, and handed it to Noah.
As she chugged it right away, he turned away, grabbing the ladle and tongs.
While dishing out ramen into bowls, he remembered his promise to Ichinose and served her first.
"Here, ramen too. It's tasty even plain after a swim, but after all the good deeds today? Even better."
"Hmmm, building up my expectations before I even taste it? I like the confidence."
"Just try it. Flavor's guaranteed. I'm dead certain about my ramen game."
Ichinose took the bowl from Rohan and swallowed hard.
She confirmed he was busy distributing ramen to the others.
Sweeping her hair behind her ear, she picked up her chopsticks.
"Huuu...! Huuu...!"
Just as she parted her salivating lips to slurp the noodles.
Ichinose's ever-closed eyes snapped open.
This ramen!
It was that nostalgic flavor.
How many failures had she endured trying to recreate the taste of Rohan's handmade meals?
And it wasn't just the ramen.
Anything Rohan prepared or cooked for her tasted better than the finest gourmet dishes.
I'm so happy...
Ichinose's smile deepened.
Even as heir to Cheonoecheon—the force that gripped Samhwa Nation—she enjoyed the world's best sleep, meals.
And her one unique, irreplaceable happiness.
In the end, she'd ended up dependent on Rohan. That was her position now.
She knew and chased freedom's value, yet this near-total reliance brought no frustration—only joy.
A girl's heart was truly mysterious.
As the mood warmed up, glasses filled for the umpteenth time.
Ramen bowls held only broth now.
Fresh meat sizzled on the grill again.
"More drinks?"
"Yeah...!"
"Refill for me too."
"One more!"
Only Noah kept wolfing down meat at her usual blistering pace.
Everyone else was nursing their drinks now.
Rohan collected glasses, added fresh ice, and whipped up more highballs.
And then.
"... ."
The three girls bound by the Night Flower Oath exchanged quick glances.
Clara, Sion Testarosa, and Ichinose Yui had options aplenty.
Get genuinely wasted? Fake it from here on? Or stay sober and just enjoy?
The girls were much alike.
Sensations dulled but not enough for bold moves yet.
Still, the buzz was creeping in. Cheeks warming. Time to decide.
"Waaang!"
Oblivious, Noah—who'd polished off a plate of meat—checked her phone at the ding-dong!
She twitched her brows at the message.
"What? Big Bro might get married again?"
"Which big bro?"
Noah's tail swished at Ichinose's question.
She double-checked the message and flicked her ears. Tok! Tok!
"Third bro. But he might skip the ceremony."
"Noah's third brother... so this would make..."
"His seventh? Probably? I don't know the details!"
Tigrova practiced polygamy.
Rohan knew that. Abyss City had hammered it home multiple times.
Still, hearing it mentioned right here felt surreal. He'd seen similar in online articles, but this hit different—maximum realness.
"Never met him, but your bro's a legend."
Noah's eyes rolled at Rohan's words.
Her lips quirked mischievously.
"Don't get married too many times."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Multiple ceremonies are a hassle. Do it all at once. I'll give big congrats money."
Only Rohan and Noah bantered casually.
The Night Flower girls around them froze stiff at the loaded topic.
"Big congrats money sounds great... but marriage."
"Why? No plans?"
The three held their breath at Rohan and Noah's exchange.
All senses locked on hearing.
"Don't wanna."
"Then just do it, no?"
Rohan burst out laughing at Noah's words.
Her pure, innocent blue eyes—truly puzzled—were especially funny.
"Marriage isn't that simple. Gotta have a partner. Means to provide."
"Dummy! Show that Southern grit! Out-marry my dummy bros—go big!"
Noah's casual dive into the touchy subject startled the silent three.
Rohan just chuckled, unbothered.
Noah's slight flush wasn't just from the grill's heat.
"Drunk?"
"Not at all! Would a cutie like me get wasted?!"
She looked buzzed, though faintly. More spirited than usual.
She'd downed enough for everyone's share in no time—natural, really.
As he teased back about marriage being a competition.
Hm?
Something off in Noah's words nagged Rohan. His mind spun fast.
The conversation didn't quite mesh.
Her "don't marry too much," "do it all at once"—not like his old world's "don't divorce, stay married" jokes.
Noah said all at once, not just once.
Not the booze. Instinct said so.
Southern Solarea—monogamy? Polygamy? Polyandry? Which?">
Rohan didn't know precisely.
Few nations did polygamy; monogamy dominated his assumptions.
He'd never delved deep. Now it dominated his thoughts.
"Ichinose, give this tiger some water. Gonna grab more meat."
"O-okay...!"
As Rohan stepped away with the empty plate, a roar echoed behind.
"More drinks too! And ice cream!"
"Got it. Hang tight."
Noah's energy exploding past full throttle was a sight.
Rohan felt blessed to be here.
..
..
Before pulling food from the fridge, Rohan searched on his phone.
His jaw dropped.
"!"
No deep dive needed. Info popped right up.
Solarea—like Tigrova—famously upheld polygamy.
The nation gone, ruins left.
Surviving Southerners proudly clung to it, per macho interviews.
Polygamy? For real?
That's why Noah said that.
It clicked instantly.
This body's from that great nation.
Public knowledge online, but Rohan—the man himself—had no clue.
He thought he knew the South via Abyss City; skipped culture.
Searches focused on restricted intel he'd glimpsed.
Couldn't deny his narrow worldview now.
Ah!
Puzzle pieces in his mind unlocked one by one.
Once-incomprehensible bits fell into place.
So that's why Lete...
Recalling when her messages tapered off gave a rough timeline.
He remembered proudly declaring "Southern" when asked his origins.
Sepia Archipelago—like Samhwa—was baseline monogamous.
Hard to commit after one meeting to a polygamous Southern mindset.
Relief at solving one mystery.
Rohan mulled reality.
Anyway... legal harem, huh...?
Culture shock overload from Samhwa?
No room for old-world angst. It sank in surprisingly easy.
Or no.
These girls before him—more precious than life. Knowing he could love them most, all of them. That greed fulfilled.
Alcohol boiled fantasies cloud-like.
A man's dream.
Waking him to this key fact? All hail Noah.
I worship you.
His resolve to grill meat hard solidified anew.