The elegant daily routine of sage Grecas - here we go with a lovely 'Sage Hall' life!

When I received the spoon offered to me by Pram, I slipped it into a purple, gummy, mysterious dish.

An indescribable odor pokes my nose.

"Eat, Grecas."

"Ah, ah...? I'll take it. And I'm tough, so grey is fine."

"Greg... you can have it -!

Plum smiles at Nicole and turns to her eyes full of expectations.

Though artificial life forms (homunculus), Pram has his own thoughts, as well as joy and sorrow and abundant emotions. It looks and behaves no different than a human "girl".

When the frown is bent by the sorrow, the back of the chest is tightened.

Gokuri......

Nevertheless, I suspect that Plum was wise enough to cook.

I only have a bad feeling about it, but if I stir it up with a spoon, it's a dreary touch like mixing stew and jam. It seems to have simmered something, but we have no idea who it is. Besides the twinkly, inexperienced odor irritates the nose.

Unexpectedly, he asks Pram, who is asking him how I am next door.

"What's in it...?

"Um, Cecily, I simmered" Which Way "your sister plugged me in...... it's stew Yikes!

Hmm! But the plum swoops back with a good face.

"Don't simmer!?

"Should I burn it -?

"You can keep the sandwich!?

"Uh, Plum, I don't know -"

- Ilah.

When I float the tannic surface, I squeeze one eye and peek at the tip of my tongue.

"As it were, well. Did you taste it?

"I didn't. 'Cause it doesn't look good."

"Stay!?

Plum stiffens herself to the scratch that gave birth to my anger.

"Why are you angry?

"Ugh..."

There is an honest colour of perplexity on that face.

If it's anime or cartoons, I'm about to butch the contents of the pan from my head here, but I'm a well-known sage. He is also the bearer of a generous heart who is not angry at me for a moment.

Plum is the only asshole with a handle on her health, so let's close our eyes for a few things.

Because sometimes my heart is purer than a human being, and I know something straight.

I, uh, sighed and then spooned up the contents of the pan.

"Well... it looks like it, but you made it because of me"

"Grey...!

Pram's face turns to a smile.

You simple bastard.

I tried to carry a dreary purple object into my dreaded mouth, as Plum's eyes urged me to.

"What? Whoa!?

In my mouth, dead.

Collaboration of melted cheese and sprinkled bread with lettuce texture.

Besides, the taste of stew that sticks to the tongue is sour for some reason for the sake of "simmering sandwiches".

Somehow, it's like the taste of an array that's been refluxing from my stomach...

"What do you say? With sugar and vinegar, it's a belly-friendly flavor."

"Doesn't that taste Guero to me!? Oue......"

I couldn't stop thinking of Pram's head and clasped it with pechine.

"Chan!?

"Yes, it hurts......!? It's terrible. - Greg!

Plum protests by holding his head in tears.

Even a wise man can clean this up.

"Shut up, you idiot! How dare you!

"The plum has a little bit of good digestion..."

"Then why don't you try some plum first, huh?

I gut the jaw under the pram! and held him down and grabbed his mouth open, pouring in a gelo-flavored stewed dish with a spoon.

"Bubble...... yummy!? Whoa!

Plum escapes in tears.

Scarlet-haired and running to the other side of the room, holding down his throat and gauging.

"Hihihi, it's terrible -!

"Which one!? At least taste it yourself before you let it out!

"Ugh... Grey, you idiot"

"All right, I'll eat it all!

I held the pot and chased the plum around.

And, well, such a doozy day goes on about this' a month (...) '.

That's right.

Thirty days had already passed since the creation of the plum.

Plum, whose design life was supposed to be "three days," is still alive today.

I was confused with surprise.

But some of them are relieved (...) somewhere.

It was written in the magical book that artificial life forms (homunculus) cease to operate and break down when the time comes... But after nearly ten times as many days, I'm still full of energy today.

... Why?

Did something happen in a miracle?

Has lifespan design gone crazy beyond what it was originally a "failure," or is it caused by the life force of mixed dragon man (draguns) blood?

Though there are several possible factors, it's as if we don't know the cause.

Plum jumps well, turns roughly. Scarlet hair follows, fluttering.

"Greg, it's too late!

"Uhnoo, shiitake or stubborn..."

The smile is overflowing with the brilliance of a healthy girl.

It didn't look very much like the plum's life would run out right now.

But on the contrary, it was starting to creep into my mind.

- How many more days will you be fine...?

While I was disappointed that the experiment had led to unexpected results, I realized that I was relieved that Pram would still be doing well today.

◇

"Damn."

Tired of the chase, I looked out the window sighing.

The study is upstairs and the view from here is pretty good.

The sky visible through the windows is blue and clear, with chapped clouds floating puffy.

As you move your gaze from the front of the mansion, well-maintained garden trees and lawns shine in the sun around the mansion.

Outside the grounds of the cruised mansion of stone walls beyond which man can overcome, the fields owned by the village peasants, the streams of clean water, what a pastoral flair, the houses of the Merchenchick roof line up with the pompous.

Sometimes if the weather is good, you can see the castle of Metanostadt, the king's capital, ten kilometres south of Merte.

The days of adventure that were once harsh are as peaceful as lies. The time I spent with my people even seems like a long time ago.

This is how I pull myself into the mansion and sing peace every day when I can relax and dawn into reading and research.

But quietly and peacefully, it doesn't seem.

"Well, let me know what you cook."

The plum is on my arm this time, and it's getting sweet.

Her cheeks unwittingly loosen as she jumped.

"Cooking…?"

I've never cooked before, but I have search magic (Gogol). Find out, and you'll figure it out?

Cooking must be no big deal compared to smelling the coin.

"Pram wants Grey to be happy -!

Coming at me with a smile and a smile that doesn't give in.

"Uh, I got it."

Then I pulled off the plum that was coming, and I got up.

I'm hungry for a sandwich. Nevertheless, if it's enough to let Plum make it, it's up to me to make it.

"There's no sandwich left, is there? Can you cook...?

"You know, sandwiches aren't ingredients. That's cooking in itself. Well, now I'll do it, so shut up and watch."

When I responded to the blurring, I walked into the kitchen.

"Wow... it's Grey's cooking stain -"

"That's a great read!?

- But.

It seems certain that my daily routine, which was quiet and lonely, has become just a little fun and lively.

Continued