Yukino crossed her arms, smiled gracefully, and said: “You mean food?
Don’t worry — obnoxious as you are, none of us are at the point of standing by while someone starves in front of us.”
“Hehe… ahahaha — HAHAHAHA!”
Kurumi burst out laughing as though she’d just heard the funniest thing in the world.
The glee twisted her features, the gleam in those mismatched eyes thoroughly unhinged.
Yukino stepped back half a step — then caught herself and felt vaguely embarrassed about it.
Her expression sharpened as she demanded: “What’s so funny?”
Kurumi ran the tip of her tongue along the corner of her lips.
“Food?
Human food, you mean?”
“You’ve misunderstood.
What I call ‘food’… are living lives, darling~.
I am the Worst Spirit.
I subsist on life itself — I’ve consumed more of it than you’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Ara ara — are you frightened?
I do enjoy that expression~.”
Yukino stared at the wicked Kurumi with a sharp, clear gaze — and suddenly felt that striking a deal with this woman was rather like making a bargain with a tiger.
Kurumi smiled brightly.
“The creatures in this world are reasonably formidable.
If you lack the strength to bring me a living thing by nightfall — I’m still willing to shelter you.”
“All you have to do is select one person from your group and offer them for me to… consume.
The rest of you survive the night.
Quite a good deal, don’t you think~?”
Yukino’s eyes turned cold as ice.
“Tokisaki Kurumi — you are a monster.”
“I’ll accept those terms,” Natsuyū said.
Yukino whipped her head toward him, visibly uncertain.
“You’re sure you want to cooperate with her?”
Kurumi tilted her head, asking sweetly: “I really will consume Natsuyū-kun, you know.
Or — is it that Natsuyū-kun intends to offer up someone else?”
Natsuyū smiled slightly, certain: “I won’t do anything that wrong.
I’m confident I can bring you your ‘food.'”
He turned to Yukino.
“Do you doubt we can manage it?”
“Of course not,” Yukino answered immediately.
“Then,” Natsuyū continued, “compared to an endless swarm of shadow creatures at night, hunting during the day — when we have to gather food anyway — seems considerably safer.
Catching one living creature as Kurumi’s payment in exchange for shelter through the night isn’t an unreasonable arrangement.”
“It’s just catching prey.
I can do it.”
Yukino let herself be persuaded, and deflected her remaining discomfort onto Kurumi: “I simply don’t trust the woman with the clock eye.”
“That is quite the unflattering nickname,” Kurumi noted, mildly displeased. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Yukino ignored her.
“Trust takes time to build,” Natsuyū said.
“We start cooperating with Kurumi now, and revisit the rest later.”
“If she proves untrustworthy, we end the arrangement and keep our distance.”
Kurumi’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You know I can hear you?”
Natsuyū held his palm open, tone easy: “Telling you our honest thoughts directly takes more sincerity than scheming behind your back.
Wouldn’t you agree.”
Kurumi smiled.
“Natsuyū-kun really does have his own kind of charm.”
Yukino thought for a moment, then drew a small breath and nodded.
“Natsuyū — I agree.
But this is a decision that affects everyone.
When Sakuraba Ema and the others get back, you explain it to them.”
“Understood.”
Natsuyū turned it over in his mind.
Kurumi was the Spirit of Time.
What she needed was a living creature — most likely she wanted to consume its lifespan to replenish her own.
In her current defeated state, her reserves were probably almost spent.
Without resupply, something bad would happen.
Possibly death.
From that angle, this was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Each side got what they needed.
That said, he wouldn’t trust Kurumi completely.
Knowing she wasn’t purely evil didn’t mean handing their lives to her.
The wood for light still needed to be gathered — that hadn’t changed.
The task list had grown suddenly very long.
Urgency and pressure in equal measure.
Standing here doing nothing felt unconscionable.
Natsuyū moved quickly, turning back to Kurumi: “We need to go prepare supplies.
One thing first — the vines holding you in place.
We wouldn’t be able to break them, would we.”
“Correct,” Kurumi said.
“Then sit tight a little longer.
We’re heading out.
If any of my other companions return before we’re back, please let them know I’m moving with Yukino.”
“Go ahead, Natsuyū-kun~.”
Kurumi smiled — then let her head fall, long bangs swinging forward to hide her face.
She slipped back into her dormant state.
Maybe staying dormant slows down her energy drain.
Natsuyū filed the thought away, then turned and waved Yukino over.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
Yukino swept her hair back with a light touch, smiled gracefully, and said: “Mr.
Beautiful Girl Collector — I’ll scout the far left while you get everyone’s equipment ready.”
What a strange nickname.
Though, admittedly, when he played Palworld, he did love catching every Pal in the Paldeck.
Natsuyū looked at Yukino — his personal Pal No.
1 — and replied in an exaggerated baby voice, just to get back at her:
“Yes, yeeees.
Coming right up — for our definitely-not-directionally-challenged Yukino-sama.”
“…” Yukino silently ground her back teeth.
The scouting part was easy.
Probably because Natsuyū just had to stand in one place.
Yukino, who had to run all over the place — she might not agree.
Far from the shimmering gate and Kurumi, Natsuyū watched Yukino’s figure moving purposefully in the distance and swept his gaze around.
To the right of their starting point, the trees grew thicker.
Sparse weeds dotted the ground.
Further in, a dense forest zone was likely waiting.
He also spotted a few chunks of rock sitting exposed on the surface.
Good.
Resources are abundant.
Time to level up.
Natsuyū raised a fist and began knocking on a tree just over four metres tall.
With the experience from before, after twenty-odd hits, the oak split apart with a crack!
— collapsing into neat logs he’d already sidestepped away from.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Four dull impacts.
The oak yielded four logs — more than enough to make a crafting table.
That tree was thicker than the first one, so it took more hits.
He picked up an acorn, marvelling once again at how completely the leaves and branches had vanished.
“Starting on the crafting table.”
He picked up a log, broke it down into four planks, stacked them on the ground, and pressed both hands to the pile, activating the ability.
[Crafting Table Construction]
The planks warped and folded of their own accord — twisting, splitting, shedding a spray of sawdust, the sound of wood being worked filling the air in a rapid burst.
Three seconds later, the four planks were gone.
In their place stood a square crafting table, edges just under a metre long.
To be continued…