Chapter 15 Broom Star 3

"...Your question is really strange."

Mazao didn't answer my question immediately, but it didn't seem like she hadn't grasped its meaning.

My question was clearly beyond her expectations, so much so that she seemed to want to hide her surprise, but she was too slow to react, allowing me to catch the change in her facial expression.

It seems she's playing dumb... no, she probably isn't. Perhaps from her perspective, it's impossible for me to ask such a question, since time-travel novels wouldn't be popular in a post-apocalyptic world. So she's probably wondering if she misunderstood me.

Seeing this, I explained in detail why I had asked the question earlier.

After listening, she gradually calmed down and then fell into thought.

After a long silence, she finally responded: "I'm sorry, I can't answer your question. Because even I don't understand what's going on."

"How could this be?" I was completely baffled. "Is it that I travel through time with my physical body, or only my soul? Isn't that something that should be clear immediately? The former or the latter, shouldn't it be very obvious?"

“You’re right, but…” she hesitated.

I realized it quickly. Yes, generally speaking, you don't even need to look in a mirror to tell if your body has been replaced; you can sense it even with your eyes closed. There's only one situation where the person involved "can't understand."

"Can I understand it this way... that the body you're using now is very similar to your original body, as if it hasn't been changed at all, but there are some unusual details that make you suspicious?"

"...I can't say much more right now." Her attitude was very wary.

I countered, "Didn't you say you'd answer my questions in exchange for food?"

Upon hearing this, her expression immediately showed a hint of struggle. Unfortunately, after struggling, she managed to maintain her vigilance.

But it seems that this isn't a warning about whether I'll learn any extra information, but rather a warning about whether my own questions will drag me into something.

She had expressed similar sentiments on several occasions before. Perhaps in her view, the changes happening to her were so strange and unknown that she didn't want anyone other than herself to have close contact with her until she was completely sure of her safety. This approach is understandable from her perspective. According to her own account, she had unwittingly dragged others into the misfortunes she had brought upon herself more than once, to the point that she has become paranoid, and the slightest disturbance will trigger her sensitive nerves.

"Alright... then at least answer this question: where did you get your pistol?" I could only change the subject. "You can't possibly say you don't know the answer to this question, can you?"

“I can answer that.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “I stole it from the department responsible for maintaining local law and order.”

"You stole it from the station?" I exclaimed in surprise. "Why would you risk stealing this?"

“My initial goal was not to steal weapons,” she explained calmly. “When I first arrived in this era yesterday, I knew nothing about my surroundings and desperately needed information to determine if I was safe. But I didn’t know where to investigate. After thinking it over, I simply infiltrated the place that was maintaining local law and order.”

"You really have some nerve to sneak into a place like that right away..." I looked at her with newfound respect.

“Since it’s a place that maintains public order, it must have the best understanding of the potential dangers in the area. Going there to investigate is the most efficient way.” Her matter-of-fact attitude revealed a lawless temperament. “Besides, my ‘blessing’ makes me unmatched in escaping. If anything happens, I can move away in time.”

I think the most efficient way would be to find an internet cafe, but it's not even certain whether she knows how to use the internet.

"And then, during your infiltration investigation, you stumbled upon the room where the guns and ammunition were stored, and then you just casually took them?" I asked curiously. "Now that the authorities are after you, were you discovered during your infiltration?"

"...Yes, I'm not very familiar with the security measures of this era, so..." she reluctantly admitted, seemingly feeling ashamed of being discovered while sneaking in.

I continued to ask, "You said this morning that the reason you can't use superpowers now is because you forcibly ignored your soul trauma and forced yourself to use them after arriving in this era, just to escape the pursuit of the official forces?"

“…No.” She pursed her lips. “I can’t tell you the specific reasons.”

Although she didn't intend to tell me, she also didn't intend to lie to me. Perhaps the real reason was related to her being covered in blood and lying in the abandoned construction site; she probably judged that the real reason fell into the category of "a calamity that would bring me danger."

Doesn't that make me even more eager to know?

I know this can't be rushed, so I can only say something else first: "Well... so when I was talking to the police this morning, the reason you immediately understood that the serial killer they were looking for was you wasn't because you actually are that serial killer..."

“I already have a basic understanding of the security situation in this era. ‘A little girl wandering around with a real gun’—no matter how you look at it, that’s talking about me, right? I confirmed that with you later.” As she spoke, she looked puzzled and touched her stomach. “I just don’t know why I’m being treated as a serial killer.”

It turns out that I was tricked into revealing information by her back then, without even realizing it.

I underestimated her.

However, perhaps the questioning should end here; she's still hungry.

I walked over to the sofa, picked up the remote, turned on the TV, and said to her, "Let's stop here for now. You can watch TV in the living room for a while, and I'll make you dinner soon."

"I see."

Her gaze was immediately drawn to the colorful program images, but she did not show any novelty or surprise towards the television itself.

I secretly observed her reaction, made a mental note of it, and then turned and went into the kitchen.

It was just a simple fried rice made by mixing various ingredients together; it didn't take me much time. I'm just a little worried that it might be too oily and salty, and put a strain on her stomach. Should I add more rice and reduce the amount of oil, salt, and side dishes? But she said she's fine...

Forget it, I'll just trust her for now.

And if she develops stomach problems later, I can find a reason to let her stay at my house for a few more days.

With that in mind, I didn't hesitate to increase the proportion of side dishes in the fried rice, and I even took out some rice seasoning from the refrigerator and added more to the fried rice.

Soon, I walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates of deluxe fried rice.

Perhaps Ma Zao smelled the aroma of fried rice coming from the kitchen, and her gaze had somehow shifted from the television program, now fixed on me with anticipation.

As the saying goes, hunger is the best seasoning. Besides, if she was truly born in a post-apocalyptic world where food is severely scarce, her defenses against delicious food might be much lower than those of people living in peaceful times.

It is said that in the last century when material conditions were not so abundant, even instant noodles were considered a rare luxury food, but nowadays, instant noodles have long been regarded as a rather makeshift thing by the general public.

I gestured for Ma Zao to sit at the table, then placed a plate of deluxe fried rice in front of her and handed her a spoon.

She held the spoon, staring blankly at the luxurious fried rice, completely motionless.

"You can eat now," I reminded her, "be careful, it's hot."

"Huh? Oh..." She was brought to her senses, but she still stared intently at the fried rice.

After a while, she swallowed and then picked up the spoon, scooped up some rice mixed with the side dishes, put it in her mouth, and slowly chewed it.

I stood beside the table, silently watching her every move.

Halfway through her chewing, she seemed to notice my gaze, frowned, looked up, and asked suspiciously, "Why are you staring at me? Aren't you going to eat?"

Upon hearing this, I picked up my plate, took a bite of fried rice, and said, "I just wanted to hear your opinion."

"It's delicious," she replied modestly, then continued eating.

I was still hoping she'd react with the same shock and disbelief as a resident of an alternate world who gets to eat modern barbecue in a fantasy novel, but it seems I was just being presumptuous.

However, I gradually noticed that the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and her body, which had been tense like a wary wild animal, gradually relaxed, and her knees, hidden under the table, began to sway slightly.

Her attention was focused on the fried rice, and she moved the spoon faster and faster.

"Don't eat too fast, chew a few more times, be careful of indigestion," I finally couldn't help but remind you.

"Mmm, mmm..." She nodded intently, slowing her eating slightly.

As she ate, a happy smile unconsciously crept onto her face, and her complexion became rosy.

Honestly, what was I reminding her of?

But at this moment, she really looked like a young girl in the prime of her youth, rather than a wary and indifferent time traveler who was afraid of being hurt by others and afraid of hurting others herself.

I never thought about how to make her smile, nor did I ever imagine that she could actually make such an expression.

This was the first time I had ever seen her smile.

I sat down opposite her and watched her eat for a while. To me, this might be superfluous emotion, something that would hinder my actions if I needed to be cruel to her. But such a lovely smile—it wouldn't hurt to look at it a few more times, would it?

(End of this chapter)