Suli's New Friend
Suli, blissfully unaware that her mother had visited during the night, was bright and cheerful from the morning.
Kyuung! As always, she let out her cry, urging me on.
It seemed she wanted to go out and play since the weather was nice today.
Suli was the type who played well on her own without needing much attention.
She always came up with new ways to have fun, and today, it looked like she planned to use my body for it.
Grunting with effort, she climbed laboriously onto me and patted my body with her paws—thump thump.
"Kyuung—!"
Was she thinking of using my body as a slide? To turn an A-rank monster's body into a playground ride...
Should I praise her boldness? Or get angry that my body wasn't a toy?
After a brief moment of deliberation, I decided to move my body.
"Kyu!"
Suli's satisfied cry rang out.
Yeah, your happiness matters more than my dignity.
Besides, it hadn't even been a full day since the kumiho had asked me to look after her and left.
Of course, I would have taken good care of Suli even without her request.
I watched quietly as Suli used my body like a slide, sometimes hanging from my tail like a swing.
Seeing her play so well by herself was convenient from my perspective, but it felt like something was missing for her.
After some thought, I realized what it was.
A friend... she needs a friend. She should run around with kids her age.
That way, she could develop social skills and grow into a fine adult.
Not that a monster like Suli needed any of that.
So, who should I find as Suli's friend?
First, they had to be strong enough to protect her and smart enough too.
They needed stamina to play with her and the perceptiveness to anticipate her needs.
Where could I find someone like that?
I pondered, but no candidates came to mind.
Finding a reasonably strong one was easy enough.
I wasn't worried about them harming Suli either.
I could use the Magic Eye's mind control ability if needed.
But since the Magic Eye's rank was still low, mind control only allowed simple commands, making it a last resort.
In that sense, I wanted to find someone who would willingly become Suli's loyal servant... no, friend.
But where would such a creature exist?
To have the strength to protect Suli and some intelligence, they'd need a decent rank, but high-rank monsters were usually arrogant and disobedient.
Even if I threatened them to protect her, their nasty tempers might turn on Suli instead.
Would they even listen to orders in the first place?
Not a chance.
High-rank monsters had strong pride by nature.
So, Suli's subordinate... er, friend needed to be moderately ranked.
Someone obedient, reasonably strong, quick on the uptake... There was one.
Wise Scale...!
The name that popped into my head after nearly two years made everything click.
He would be the perfect candidate for Suli's subordinate.
And with the four surviving lizardmen, it would be ideal.
The problem is they're in the upper floors...
Of course, they were on the 18th floor.
A world away from my current location.
Besides, ordinary monsters like them couldn't have survived this long...
Could a plain monster survive hunters for almost two years?
No matter how I thought about it, the answer was no.
It was regrettable, but that was reality.
Even if they'd evolved, it wouldn't change much.
Unless they were a special case like me descending to the deep lower floors, evolution wouldn't save them from hunters.
A bit bittersweet...
They were my first friends after becoming a snake, the ones I'd shared goodwill with, so it left a bitter taste.
With that melancholy mood, I put off the plan to find Suli a friend for now.
I could just play with her in the meantime.
A few days had passed since the kumiho officially entrusted Suli to me and left.
No word from her yet.
She said she'd be back soon, but wasn't this taking too long?
Was her rival that formidable?
What if she never comes back...
Honestly, that wouldn't be so bad for me.
If she didn't return, Suli could be my little Suli forever...
No, stop thinking like that. Suli would be sad. She needs her mom.
I barely reined in my wandering dark thoughts.
I'd thought I'd improved watching Suli lately, but if I let my guard down, old habits resurfaced.
But does Suli really need her mom...?
Suli, whom I glanced at, was as cheerful as ever today.
She zipped joyfully across the snowfield.
When she strayed too far, I gently nudged her back with my tail.
It had been quite a while since she'd been separated from her mother, yet I'd never seen her searching or pining.
Far from sad, she was always bright and innocent, so maybe she was fine...
So I asked her.
[Don't you miss your mom?]
Suli burst into messy wails.
It wasn't that she didn't miss her—she just hadn't been aware of it.
The moment I brought it up, she stopped playing and cried her heart out.
I shouldn't have said anything...
Her crying didn't stop easily.
I even tried my secret weapon, "Up high, my Suli!", but it only made her cry harder.
Nothing worked—not her usual favorites.
What do I do...?
"Myaaaang—!! Meeeooowwww—!!!"
I was at a loss watching her wail loud enough to shake the snow mountain.
Interpreting her intermittent cries, it was things like "I miss mom!", "I wanna go to mom!", "Where's mom?"
Suli missed her mother more than I'd thought.
I vented my frustration on the monsters drawn by her cries, but that was all I could do.
Eventually, she cried herself out and fell asleep.
I carried the soundly sleeping Suli back to the cave.
I'd been reckless.
I shouldn't have spoken so lightly about how precious a mother is to a child.
Time for some reflection.
Never act carelessly again.
Especially not with anything involving Suli.
The real issue was that the root problem remained unsolved.
If she woke up back to normal, great—but I'd dragged a suppressed issue to the surface, so that was unlikely.
She'd probably cry again.
And I wanted no part of that.
The best solution was the kumiho returning, but since she hadn't despite saying "soon," something must have gone wrong.
Her rival tougher than expected, some detour issue, or maybe even dead...
I cut off the thought abruptly.
No more thoughts that would sadden Suli.
The second option: go find her myself.
Obviously not leaving Suli alone—I'd take her with me.
It had plausibility, but I couldn't easily approve it.
Unlike the relatively safe 70th floor, the depths were unknown.
Even if lower floors were fine up to a point, reaching her rival's layer changed everything.
I could handle myself in any situation, but with Suli? Too risky.
Unlike this threat-free area, who knew what dangers lurked there.
Third plan: go alone.
Discarded before it even formed.
I absolutely couldn't leave Suli by herself.
She wouldn't stay put even if told to, and she'd escaped once before—even her mother couldn't stop her.
Obviously rejected.
Besides, I didn't want to be apart from Suli.
Back to square one.
The best was still the kumiho finishing up and returning soon.
All I could do was pray fervently.
My backup plan: distract Suli.
Make her so happy she forgot about her mom's absence, like before.
Time to execute the long-delayed plan.
Project: Get Suli a subordinate... no, new playthi... friend.
Find a smart one.
Ideally, something durable...
Fortunately, Suli woke without major crying.
But she wasn't her usual bright self—I brought a huge pile of buffalo meat she loved, yet she didn't touch it.
Her moping made even me feel down.
Time to hurry the plan.
I took the sullen Suli outside.
Unlike usual, she grunted in refusal, but I had to insist this time.
Her dissatisfied paw attacks—thump thump—lacked their usual vigor today.
No healing vibes at all.
I'll find you a great toy... er, friend soon.
I scoured the snow mountain with the listless Suli.
I spotted common monsters and even rare ones I'd never seen.
Sadly, Suli's reactions were lukewarm.
I flamboyantly roasted a buffalo herd on the spot, but she only nibbled.
I took it out on other monsters.
After rummaging for a while, Suli finally reacted—for the first time.
She took interest in a [Snow Rabbit] that rolled its eyes and collapsed upon seeing me, as always.
Actually, as I was about to pulverize it for stress relief—annoyed by the rabbit's antics today—Suli cried "Kyuung!" like normal.
Her urgent paw attacks on my head had real force—thump thump.
Ah, healing.
Suli leaped off my head and dashed to the Snow Rabbit.
Why show interest in a dead one?
Did she crave rabbit today? Medium rare for freshness? Or well-done...
Suli sniffed the fallen rabbit several times.
Suli, sadly, it's already...
At her "Kyuung!" cry, the Snow Rabbit's eyelids twitched.
...Did she cast a revival spell?
Did my Suli have such talent?!
No.
The Snow Rabbit had been alive from the start.
It was just pretending.
...Why?
It knew I usually ignored Snow Rabbits that fainted from heart attacks.
So it used its Feign Death skill.
And Suli caught on.
Weird. The rabbit, spilling everything via telepathy, prostrated before me.
It begged frantically, kowtowing repeatedly.
Beside it, inexplicably excited Suli cried "Kyuung!"
...What is with this rabbit?
Words failed me as I stared at the prostrated rabbit, and Suli misinterpreted, crying "Kyuung!" urgently.
Her rough paws battered me.
Roughly, it meant "Poor thing! Spare it!"
I hadn't planned to kill it, but...
I already minimized killing around Suli, yet her plea suggested my image was terrifying...
I felt unjustly accused.
Actually, I was intrigued by the rabbit.
The only one not dying of heart attack at my sight, intelligent enough to prostrate.
Its telepathy was smooth for an E-rank.
Glancing slyly showed perceptiveness.
This one was perfect.
Suli's new playthi... no, first subordinate...
First friend.
So I brought it along.
Pet acquired.
I haven't named it yet.
No sense getting attached if I discard... er, if it parts ways with Suli someday.
More importantly, no need to decline.
Suli likes you.
Hey now, too much?
It's also reward for cheering her up—accept gratefully.
And obviously, behave.
Unless you want to be well-done...
The rabbit collapsed.
Thought it was feigning again, but Suli's frantic gestures said otherwise.
I hastily did CPR to revive it.
Can't have my hard-earned toy break so easily.
No sending it back no matter how much it cries.
Accept humbly.