Sure it didn’t exactly look good with its brownish color, its bubbling thickness, and those little bits of carrots floating on top of it, but it did taste really good!

Lucien had felt like ever since he got [Cooking Mastery], there was nothing that wouldn’t taste good if he cooked it.

Hell, Michael was literally devouring his bowl of broth.

He would have to give the soup a proper name later.

But not now. Now he was getting first hand access to the most interesting show on Earth.

Lucien cracked a pleased smirk, watching Lector ramble on and on with a displeased facial expression devoid of that damn smile.

"...Even have porridge!" He was saying. "This is madness!"

’Heh. Look at him. He isn’t even hiding the fact that he wasn’t raised in a zerozone anymore.’

"Well..." Lucien shrugged. "I apologize for the fact that I can’t make cuisine-worthy delicacies with a sack filled with fruits, vegetables and spices. Most of which would soon spoil anyway."

Lector sighed softly, murmuring something inaudible as he rubbed his forehead. And, reluctantly, he agreed to take the bowl of

broth that Lucien served him.

And he began eating.

Lucien grinned as the man hesitantly took a spoonful of soup.

Lector’s eyes immediately went wide. And, as if all his prior protests were but a lie, he began devouring the bowl of broth.

Lucien chuckled.

"Right," he said, "you still haven’t told me where you really come from, Lector. I’m not inclined to believe that there are any ’burgers’ or ’pizzas’ in zerozones. It means you knew those... cuisines from elsewhere."

Well, so did Lucien. But his case was different. He knew all the things he knew from a past life where he’d been Jacob.

Lector pointedly ignored his jab.

But, after settling his bowl down, the blond man smiled, saying:

"Trust me, Lucien, I am not one that you’d love to play mind games with. You’ll surely lose should I really agree to that venture. So instead of bugging me, find something better to do with your time. Play with your kid, observe the perimeters once more. Do something." He pointed a finger a Lucien. "The only reason you know what you think you know about me is because I let you know. So if you think your tiny zero mind has uncovered a clue about the origins of my humble self, digest that clue and be satisfied. Stop poking for more."

Lucien raised a brow.

’Would you look at that?’ he thought. ’Finally got my name right.’

Lucien crossed his arms.

"I’ll say the same to you, Lector. Stop poking for more clues about me. And stop stealing subtle glances at my camo-watch."

"Oh?" Lector’s grin stretched even more. He shrugged. "But you see, mine’s a different case, Luciano. It’s my job to poke."

And there it was. The man had just given a layered, subtext hidden confirmation that he was indeed a Prowler. And he did so in an unassuming way that Lucien wouldn’t have caught if his mind was any duller.

Conversations were really beautiful things. The man had avoided talking about the camo-watch by revealing his identity to make Lucien’s mind forget all about the watch business and instead focus on the ’shocking’ fact that he was a Prowler.

Too bad Lucien already knew that.

He shrugged.

"Keep your poking away from my watch."

And with that, Lucien turned toward the entrance of the uncompleted building they were currently staying in, watching a trail of smoke lazily float to the sun-streaked sky as last whispers of the fire that’d burned in that pile of wood where Lucien had cooked on.

’Load Map.’

The system map immediately resurfaced, showing the landscapes.

Lucien glanced at his signature on the map.

And then, a wide grin split his lips as he gazed at Amira’s signature.

They were just a couple streets away.

Lucien, Michael and Lector had arrived at Sector 3 at the night of the day they began their journey from Sector 4.

And as they’d done before, the moment they arrived at the residential areas of Sector 3, they found an abandoned uncompleted building and set up camp, waiting for morning to arrive.

And it was currently—

He glanced at his watch.

—[9:25 am]

Lucien glanced back at Lector, who, in the same moment, dropped the bowl of broth and stood up.

"So now what?" Lucien asked.

Lector smiled, gazing at Mikky, who calmly ate from the broth.

Then he looked up at Lucien.

"I think the concoction would’ve been better with bread."

A corner of Lucien’s lips curved, eyes twitching. But he remained silent.

"But well..." Lector shrugged. "It wasn’t bad. Good stuff. I still miss my burgers, though."

Lucien sighed.

"Lector. What are we doing now? Do you have a plan? I assume you do. Let me in on it or I’ll count you out of our circle and proceed to the next step alone."

Lector smiled brightly, his perfect set of glistening white teeth on full display.

"You."

He pointed at Lucien.

Lucien raised a brow, expectant.

"I still have no idea what your objective is with The Cerulean Orphanage. Before I decide whether or not to let you in on MY plan, I need to know where you stand. Right here, right now."

Slowly, the blond man walked toward Lucien, his smile gradually diminishing.

Lucien frowned, heartbeat rising off rhythm, fists clenched.

He perfectly understood where Lector stood now.

"I’m sure you know perfectly well who I really am by now. I let you discover that on purpose for a good reason. To weigh your judgement. You’re a really suspicious man, Lucien. Not only do you have the camo-watch of Sultra Suzie in your possession, but you’re traveling across borders and Sectors with a child, on your way to The Cerulean Orphanage. With a child. And we both know what The Cerulean Orphanage is and what they do."

Lector stood in front of Lucien now. And Lucien frowned as Lector, future Rock of Mariva, Prowler ranked in the world’s top 500, peered his deep hazel eyes into Lucien’s emerald.