Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Exactly as Aren had expected.
“Aren! Over here, over here!”
Ran, waiting in the lobby, waved her arms with a bright smile the moment she saw Aren. Naturally, all the agents passing by couldn’t help but glance over.
Aren quickly approached and bowed his head.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ran-nim.”
“Huh? Oh… right, sorry.”
Noticing the murmuring around them, Ran nodded and they hurried toward the underground parking lot.
Aren tried to find Ran’s usual car, but
“Oh, the one from before the regression isn’t out yet.”
Ran handed him the keys naturally, and they went to the car she currently owned.
Ran got in the passenger seat, Aren took the wheel, and they settled into their positions. Aren shot Ran a sidelong glance.
“You said we’re secret friends.”
“Really sorry. I just got used to it, didn’t even realize. When’s the last time the lobby was this crowded, right?”
Before Aren could respond, Ran simultaneously apologized and explained.
“No matter how used to it, greeting so naturally like that…”
“Uh… you just got in the driver’s seat naturally too.”
Ran’s careful words snapped Aren back to reality. They’d taken the car to have a private conversation, but she’d adjusted the seat and buckled in too naturally.
Even if it was just in name, Aren had been Ran’s secretary for five years. Due to disastrous staffing shortages, there had never been a chauffeur, so Aren always drove.
“Habits die hard, huh.”
“Right?”
“So, where are we eating tonight?”
Already sitting behind the wheel, Aren started the engine. The reason for having dinner with Ran, without drawing attention, was simple.
“Whatever you want. Honestly, I could survive on plain rice.”
“True.”
Before the regression, Aren had survived for over a year on nothing but canned food. No matter how rough things had been, he was still human. He had desires, and the temptation to eat out was irresistible.
“Regression celebration—chicken and beer?”
“No beer, I have to drive back.”
“You could send a substitute driver from the company.”
“Who knows what we’d say if we drank.”
“Right… then just chicken?”
“Set the GPS.”
“I already did while talking.”
Aren smoothly exited the parking lot, and Ran input the address of a highly rated chicken restaurant. Having survived many situations where seamless coordination was a matter of life and death, they didn’t need to speak much to move in sync.
Arriving at the chicken restaurant, it wasn’t crowded, but several people recognized Ran.
“Huh… isn’t that Ran?”
“Who? Is she famous?”
“Have you been living under a rock? Isn’t she the daughter of the Jenis chairman? She used to be a personal hunter in her student days, but stopped all personal activities as an adult.”
“What…? The chairman’s daughter actually comes to eat chicken?”
“Is there a law against the rich eating chicken?”
Though they thought they were whispering, their words reached Ran and Aren clearly.
“You’ve been famous from the start, huh.”
“Ugh… an embarrassing past. I should’ve just stuck to Jenis activities instead of doing personal hunter work to find some freedom…”
Ran treated her impulsive decisions in her turbulent youth as an embarrassing past and stepped inside. It wasn’t a private room, but the seating was moderately separated.
“Oh… once you decide, call me!”
The server hurried off, likely wanting to brag to friends or family. The two regressors quickly ignored her attitude and focused on the menu.
“Half-and-half?”
“Are you kidding? It’s been years. Two whole chickens are basic.”
“You don’t eat much, though.”
“I’ve only been eating canned food until now. Today I can eat a lot.”
Nothing else mattered—neither the collapsing world nor the human-type gates. Choosing what to order from chicken after years was far more important.
“Fried one, seasoned one. How about that?”
“Now that’s sensible.”
They ordered without argument. While the chicken was being cooked, they finally brought up work.
“You helped with the GT-078 rating adjustment, right?”
“Huh? Yeah. Company processing is usually slow. Adjusting the rating and deploying personnel to collect the monster tree seeds isn’t that hard.”
“Maybe it’s hard now.”
It might sound casual from Ran, but Aren knew from experience: this procedure had been honed through repeated crises. The existence of monster tree seeds only became clear after at least two accidents like this one.
“Keep doing it like that.”
“Doing what?”
Aren’s request made Ran tilt her head.
“You need to settle in the executive team quickly so your involvement reduces accidents.”
“Can I really do that? Even this time, I begged my dad to approve it. It’s an F-class gate, so he allowed it.”
“Just keep begging then.”
“Regression only to pester your dad at thirty?”
Indeed, it seemed strange. At twenty, maybe fine—but after experiencing all of life and returning to the past, it felt awkward.
“What about you? Still planning to stay with the gate management team? You should be in the executive team. You made most of the decisions anyway.”
“I had no choice, there wasn’t enough manpower.”
By chance, Aren had revised gate protocols and manuals, but only because there was no one else. Normally, his rank wouldn’t have risen this high.
“I’ll stay on the field, so you handle the decisions upstairs.”
“Ch… I’m bad at thinking.”
“That’s why it’s a problem.”
“Wanna die?”
Once again, Aren teased Ran. Previously, joking was necessary to survive despair; now in peaceful times, it felt surreal.
“Your order—one fried, one seasoned. Enjoy!”
The chicken arrived, and both fell silent.
How long had it been since they’d seen real chicken?
Not the type to joke while eating sacred food, they each grabbed a drumstick in unison.
Crunch—
The crispiness was shocking. Bite through the batter, and the juicy meat burst forth, sending sensations to their stomachs, heads, and minds.
“……”
“……”
They paused, carefully eating the meat off the bones. Almost instinctively, Aren tried to gnaw the bones too but realized it wasn’t necessary.
“Aren. If the world slightly collapses by accident, let’s at least protect this chicken place.”
“What kind of crazy talk is that.”
The future chairman of one of the Big Three said that. Harsh words, but the meaning was clear: after so long, this chicken was too good.
“If they make us go back to canned food, I won’t be able to eat…”
“Me neither.”
A year of canned food had made them think they’d adapted, but the taste of chicken reignited their appetite instantly.
As they reached for their next pieces, they chose differently this time.
“You’re not starting with the drumstick?”
“I usually eat the best last. I grabbed it first out of excitement.”
Aren took a drumstick from the seasoned chicken; Ran picked the breast.
“Better to eat the good stuff first.”
“Why? It’s not like a C-class gate is about to appear downtown.”
“Even if not, if an emergency happens, we have to return to the company.”
“Yah! Spit that out. What are you—”
Before Ran could finish, Aren’s personal device vibrated like a disaster alert. He checked the screen, and the dreaded message appeared:
[F-class Gate, GT-257 ‘Museum’: mental disturbance and abnormal reactions detected. All gate management team members return immediately.]
Ran’s eyebrows sharpened.
“Your fault.”
“Why me?”
“This wouldn’t have happened at this time otherwise. You just set the flag.”
Indeed, no other accidents had occurred besides GT-078. Aren stood, puzzled.
“You can just go, I’ll stay with the chicken.”
“My friend’s being called to an emergency, and you can still eat?”
“…ahem.”
Even if roles were reversed, Aren wouldn’t have eaten alone.
Though plenty of chicken remained, they quickly paid and left.
“I’ll get a combo of drumsticks and wings later.”
“Got it. Now hurry, get in.”
Before Ran could get in the passenger seat, Aren stopped her.
“You’ve got sauce on your mouth.”
Wiping the seasoning off her lips with his finger, Aren nonchalantly popped it into his mouth and got in the driver’s seat.
“You…”
Ran froze, leaning in and biting Aren’s shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“…You didn’t finish your drumstick, so I’m eating it for you.”
“I’ll buy it for you tomorrow. Now hurry, get in.”
Aren pried her off, unaware she was just hiding a blush. He buckled up and started the engine.
“Ugh… what a waste…”
Ran sulked, biting Aren’s shoulder again.
“I’ll buy it tomorrow. Stop chewing my shoulder now.”
Ran’s antics weren’t unusual. Aren, with a resigned sigh, pressed the accelerator.
Vroom—
The regressors hurried back to the company, tearfully leaving the freshly cooked chicken behind.