The Man Who Can't Take a Joke
The next morning.
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, brightening the living room.
Garam, still groggy, kicked off her blanket and stood up, only to freeze at the sight before her.
Sion was sitting on the sofa, reading a book.
As if the blood-soaked, terrifying figure from yesterday had been nothing but a dream, Sion was dressed in a crisp, clean shirt, holding a book in one hand and casually turning the pages with the other.
“...Are you reading?”
Garam asked in a voice still heavy with sleep.
Sion responded by lifting his head to look at her. His face held the same expressionless mask as always, revealing no particular emotion.
“Yeah.”
“Wow... that’s really weird.”
“What is.”
“Yesterday, you were a guy who came home covered in blood after killing someone, and today you’re reading a book in the morning. The gap between those two things is just so strange.”
Sion furrowed his brows slightly.
“I have hobbies, too. Reading just happens to be one of them.”
“...Coming from a guy who looks like he’d kill someone with a book.”
“What did you say?”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Garam chuckled and sat down on the dining chair opposite Sion. Resting her chin in her hands, she stared at him and asked, “So, what are you reading?”
“A philosophy book.”
“Whoa, for real? You aren’t just reading something you don’t usually read because I’m watching, are you?”
“It’s a book I’ve always read.”
“Hmm... that’s really unexpected. Don’t you usually read things like firearm manuals or assassination textbooks?”
Sion turned a page and replied briefly.
“Not really. I’ve read them so much I’ve memorized them all.”
“Heh... I guess that’s what you’d expect from ‘Null’.”
Garam laughed playfully, then tapped the philosophy book with her finger.
“Then why read philosophy? Are you thinking about the meaning of death? Or maybe you’re in your head, debating yourself on topics like ‘why shouldn’t we kill people’...”
“...If you want to keep living in this house, don’t disturb me when I’m reading.”
“Roger. I won’t ask any more questions.”
Even as she said that, Garam kept her eyes fixed on Sion. Unlike yesterday, there was no trace of tears—only a gaze filled with curiosity and mischief.
“...”
Sion, who had been acutely aware of her gaze, finally closed his book and stood up.
“...Let’s eat breakfast.”
“What’s on the menu today? The ramen yesterday was really good.”
“I’m making something else today, not ramen.”
Garam’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh, a new menu item?”
“It’s nothing to get that excited about. It’s simple.”
Sion walked toward the kitchen.
Opening the fridge to check the contents, he began taking out ingredients with practiced movements: shrimp, a few vegetables, and eggs.
Garam caught on and asked, “Are you making shrimp fried rice?”
“That’s right. It’s simple and fast.”
“Whoa. You really are like a chef. I know you’re a pro at handling knives, but... it’s kind of funny to think you’re using a kitchen knife to cut vegetables instead of catching people.”
“...I don’t catch people with kitchen knives.”
Sion placed the vegetables on the cutting board and began to dice them with his knife.
He sliced the vegetables into uniform pieces, with the same precision he used when killing an enemy. Watching him silently, Garam said in admiration:
“You’re the type who likes everything to be perfectly aligned, aren’t you? How can your knife work be so precise?”
“It’s just what I’m used to. Nothing special.”
As the prepared ingredients hit the heated pan, Garam instinctively swallowed hard. The savory aroma of shrimp, rice, and vegetables quickly filled the house.
Garam was now practically glued to Sion’s side, staring at the pan.
“...That smells so good. Can’t I have just one bite now?”
“It’ll be done in a second, so just wait.”
Sion scooped the fried rice onto a plate, topped it with a fried egg, and set it on the table.
“Eat. There’s no poison in it...”
“I know, I know. Thanks for the meal!!”
Garam immediately grabbed a spoon, took a large bite of the fried rice, and put it in her mouth. She shivered with happiness, wearing the most blissful expression in the world.
“Mmm! Even if your personality is a bit... you know, your cooking is undeniably good.”
“...What about my personality?”
Garam rolled her eyes and retorted.
“Your personality? Hmm... you’re blunt, you secretly hold grudges, and you can’t take a joke...”
“Should I stop cooking for you from now on?”
“Hey, hey, I’m obviously joking. You’re kind, mister. You’re a totally kind person.”
A grain of rice was stuck to Garam’s face as she spoke proudly, spoon in hand. Sion silently picked up a napkin, handed it to her, and said briefly:
“Wipe your mouth.”
“...Ah, thanks.”
Even as she obediently took the napkin to wipe her face, Garam grinned.
“But the more I look at you, the more I feel the disconnect. That the somewhat kind man in front of me is the killing machine ‘Null’.”
“I suppose that nickname came about because I tried to work as efficiently as possible.”
Garam’s eyes widened, and she put down her spoon.
“Efficiently...? No, it’s not like you’re some office worker—do you really describe killing people as being ‘efficient’?”
“There’s no reason to drag things out longer than necessary.”
“Wow, that’s a bit chilling. But at the same time, it’s strangely convincing. That’s just like you.”
After pondering for a moment, Garam added with a sly smile:
“But you know, if you’re this efficient at working... don’t you think you would’ve been good at something else besides being a killer?”
“Something else?”
“Yeah. For example... a delivery driver? Or a master-level chef? Oh, or a watchmaker!”
Sion looked at her as if her suggestion was absurd.
“...Why a watchmaker all of a sudden?”
“Because whenever I watch you, you’re always so precise. I feel like you’d be perfect at moving in sync with the seconds.”
“That’s a pretty boring imagination.”
“It’s fun for me, though?”
Garam took another large spoonful of fried rice and put it in her mouth. Her lips curled upward noticeably as she chewed.
Sion looked away for a moment after seeing her expression, then said quietly:
“...I only did that because I had to in order to survive in this industry. That’s all.”
“...”
Garam stopped her spoon and looked at Sion.
A brief silence followed. Then, her playful voice returned.
“Yeah. I know. Still, in front of me, stay as a tsundere chef, not an efficient killing machine.”
“As long as you don’t keep making jokes like you are now.”
“You really are a man who can’t take a joke...”
After breakfast and a short rest period.
Sion forcibly pulled Garam up from the sofa where she had been relaxing and said, “...Let’s go to the training ground.”
“Eh? But we just ate!”
“It’s better for your body to exercise a little after eating.”
Garam pouted as if she were being treated unfairly, but she followed him anyway.
And so, they descended to the training ground. Unlike last time, Sion headed toward a space where regular lines were etched into the floor.
“We aren’t doing technique practice today.”
Seeing the lines on the floor, Garam asked in a voice that trembled slightly with anxiety.
“...Don’t tell me.”
“It’s exactly what you’re thinking. Run until I tell you to stop.”
Sion’s finger pointed at the training ground. Garam’s eyes went wide as she protested.
“No way, you want me to run right after breakfast? What if I get indigestion!”
“That’s why I gave you a 30-minute break. Stop complaining and run.”
“Ugh...”
“Hurry.”
In the end, Garam retied her shoelaces, let out a deep sigh, and began to run.
At first, Garam started with light steps. However, as she passed the second and third laps without Sion telling her to stop, her breathing grew ragged and her face turned red.
“Haa, haa...! Mister! When are you going to tell me to stop!?”
“Until you collapse from exhaustion. Anything improves when you push it to the limit.”
“That’s not training, that’s abuse!!”
No matter how much she shouted, Sion just leaned against the wall and watched her run.
“Your speed is dropping.”
“Huff, huff... at this rate, I could prepare for the national athletic competition...”
“Stop talking nonsense and run.”
Garam continued to run as Sion commanded, but she raised her voice in frustration.
“Do I really have to go this far!?”
“If you want to survive in this industry, you do. Otherwise, you’ll just fall behind or be killed by someone else.”
He spoke in a cold tone.
But since low-ranked killers were often killed by their own kind, Sion was trying to raise Garam to be strong enough to survive in this world.
“Huff, huff...! I’m not even... a full-fledged killer yet! Is there really a need to go this far already!”
Even as Garam, drenched in sweat from head to toe, shouted at him, Sion replied with the same expressionless face.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re official or not. The moment you set foot in this world, you have to do your best at every moment if you don’t want to lose your life.”
“Ha, damn it... you say such cool things, but all you’re making me do is run! What do I learn from running!”
“Stamina.”
A short, firm answer.
Garam was momentarily shocked and tried to stop her feet. But when Sion’s cold gaze pierced through her, she began to run again as if she’d been doused in ice water.
“Ugh... fine, I get it! But are you going to take responsibility if I actually die!?”
“If you collapse, I’ll carry you and bring you back to life, so don’t worry.”
“Th-that’s not comforting at all!!”
Garam was already exhausted, but strangely, the fact that Sion was watching made it harder for her to stop her feet. Her breath was coming in gasps and her vision was blurring, but that one cold voice kept pushing her from behind.
“...Just a little more. Keep your speed up.”
“Huff... you’re really... a dictator, mister...”
Sion furrowed his brows and muttered under his breath.
“Save the whining for after training.”