Pissed Off

“It’s  Mikazuki-dono,”  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  whispered to  Lin Ge.

Lin Ge  got it instantly.

The one with the best temper in  Honmaru?

Mikazuki.

He repeated the name silently in his head.

Pretty cool name.

Not one to refuse,  Lin Ge  plopped down across from  Mikazuki Munechika, ignoring the wary stares of the  tsukumogami. He set his tray down like he was right at home.

“Thanks.”

Guess I’ll make myself comfy then.

Not done yet, he waved at  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro, motioning for him to sit too.

“Quite an appetite,”  Mikazuki Munechika  said, a faint, cool smile tugging at his lips as he saw  Lin Ge’s  heaping bowl.

Once  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  sat, he added, “And thoughtful…”

Lin Ge  didn’t even think before replying, “Yup, I’m super nice to my colleagues.” He grinned confidently. “If I’ve got food, they’ve got dishes to wash.”

Mikazuki Munechika: “…”

Talk about a wild conversationalist.

“ Lord,” he said, sipping his light tea, “have you been out playing with  Tsurumaru  and  Yamanbakiri  these past few days?”

Taking a gulp of corn soup, its subtle sweetness spreading in his mouth,  Tsurumaru Kuninaga  sighed inwardly.

Here we go again.

Wonder how long this clueless master of theirs will hold up.

“Huh?”  Lin Ge  scrambled to find the right words, his brain in overdrive, before denying it. “Nah, I got lost chasing  Retrograde Troops, and they came to find me.”

No way I was slacking off during work hours—don’t pin that on me.

It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it, stop making stuff up.

Getting chewed out was one thing, but docked pay? That’d be the death of him!

No admitting, absolutely not!

He gave  Mikazuki Munechika  a weird look.

So good-looking, but so sneaky?

He half-expected  Mikazuki Munechika  to pull a recorder out of his pocket next—it wouldn’t even surprise him.

Lin Ge  started to doubt  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro’s  claim that this guy was “the nicest person in  Honmaru.”

Bit of a rose-tinted filter there.

But maybe not entirely.

Could be he’s great to his own people and just wary of a stranger like me?

Not impossible.

The last  Saniwa  was a total jerk, after all.

Understandable.

“Get hurt?”  Mikazuki Munechika  asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Lin Ge  lit up, rolling up his sleeve to flex his “killer” muscle lines, brimming with confidence. “Nope!”

Check it out, check it out!

This is the result of a whole hour of training.

Flashing back to his pathetic struggle doing “butterfly wing” push-ups on the hotel bed,  Lin Ge  wanted to shout to the world about his grueling workout saga.

The moment he finished, he felt like the ancient Greek god of push-ups!

Any black-market tech to painlessly turn him from a twig to a lean, hot guy?

Lin Ge  daydreamed shamelessly.

—

Mikazuki Munechika: “…”

Just skin stretched over bones?

A scrawny  Saniwa… that’s new.

Would he break if he fell?

Looks easy to snap.

Pulling back his appraising gaze,  Mikazuki Munechika  chuckled softly, like it was casual chit-chat. “Haha, full of energy… By the way, why no protective talisman,  Lord?”

So unguarded—how dare he come to this  Honmaru?

Overconfident in his skills?

Or does he not even see us battered relics as a threat?

He waited a few seconds, getting no reply.

Looking up, he saw their new  Lord  staring blankly, innocently saying, “…What talisman?”

—

Tsurumaru Kuninaga  covered his face, unable to watch, nearly bursting into laughter.

Told ya.

The  Saniwa’s  got a screw loose.

Mikazuki  didn’t believe me.

This kind of  Saniwa, even if fixed, would probably drool all day.

His face blanked for a split second, but he was  Mikazuki Munechika, after all. He quickly recovered. “You don’t know?”

Has the government given up so hard they’re grabbing random street randos to play cleanup crew?

Swallowing a mouthful of rice,  Lin Ge  shot back boldly, “Am I supposed to?”

Konosuke  never mentioned it.

Nothing in the  Saniwa  handbook either.

Frowning,  Lin Ge  racked his brain.

Nope, definitely nothing.

The handbook mostly droned on about maintaining a healthy, normal master-servant relationship with  tsukumogami.

“No greed, no delusion, no obsession.”

Too philosophical— Lin Ge  didn’t get it, so he flipped to the next page.

His takeaway? Eight big words: No office romances allowed.

Speaking of  Konosuke…

Lin Ge  chomped down hard on his wooden spoon.

Either his teeth were too strong or the spoon was cheap—it snapped right in half.

That damn fox!

Right now,  Lin Ge’s  resentment could fuel ten evil sword immortals.

He was gonna write a novel-length complaint to the higher-ups!

Heck, he’d even stay late to make a detailed spreadsheet of  Konosuke’s  crimes.

Oh man…

His eyes gleamed as he took the new spoon  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  handed him, scarfing down chunks of beef in the curry sauce.

This beef was so good!

Back when he tried to play cool with Strawberry Shortcake, saying “I don’t eat beef,” he’d held back at the buffet, watching  Yuji Itadori  and the others grill juicy cuts on another tray, drooling the whole time.

Lin Ge  swore he’d never pull that stunt again.

Who made this food?

Gotta reward them—big time!

Tsukumogami: “…”

This  Saniwa’s  savage eating style.

Starved in a past life?

The government sent this guy to tame us?

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  fretted, worried he’d choke himself to death, and quickly poured  Lin Ge  a glass of warm water, setting some napkins gently in front of him. “Eat slower…”

He felt guilty.

Did the  Saniwa  not get a proper meal while he was lost these past few days?

Gratefully glancing at  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro,  Lin Ge  wolfed down his food, wiped his mouth, and stood abruptly. Ignoring the stunned looks around him, he grabbed his plate and went for another serving.

Maybe it was his imagination, but this rice was extra tasty.

Sweet, perfectly soft.

Love it, eat it, more of it!

—

Half an hour later.

Happily polishing off his last bite of curry beef rice,  Lin Ge  scratched his nose, unable to resist peeking at the colleagues around him.

“Eat your food—why’re you staring at me?”

By now, he was surrounded by a crowd of drop-dead gorgeous guys, each with their own vibe. They gawked at the new  Saniwa  like he was some shiny new toy, afraid he’d vanish if they blinked.

The  tsukumogami’s  mental journey:

First plate: Pissed. Who invited this guy to eat our food?

Second plate: Still pissed.

Third plate: Starting to get curious.

Fourth plate: Really curious.

…

Tenth plate: Haha, awesome!

With every plate  Lin Ge  finished, they let out a collective gasp, unconsciously forming a circle around him.

Some swords, worried there wouldn’t be enough rice to keep the  Saniwa  going, even rushed to the kitchen to whip up another batch with the quick-steamer.

“Got a black hole in his stomach?”

“Finally full?”

“How’s his stomach still flat? Where’s the food going?”

The second  Lin Ge  stopped eating, the  tsukumogami  erupted into chatter.

Finally! Hit his limit?!

Their noisy jabber was like a flock of birds bursting out of the woods—a total 180 from their earlier cold suspicion.

Lin Ge: “…”

Y’all aren’t exactly normal, are you?

He thought he was the most unhinged one in this  Honmaru.

No way—he’s keeping that title. No one’s stealing it!

Setting down his utensils, he stood, making a “sit your butts down” gesture. Once the chirping  tsukumogami  quieted, he elegantly cleared his throat. “I’m full. Need me to wash the dishes?”

Just eating and dipping feels kinda wrong.

Washing some plates seems fair, right?

Wash dishes?

The  tsukumogami  exchanged looks, all seeing confusion in each other’s eyes.

The  Saniwa  said he’s gonna wash dishes?

—

Water gently splashed against his skin, just the right temperature.  Lin Ge  squirted a pump of dish soap onto the sponge, rubbing it a few times to whip up a pile of white bubbles.

Orange-scented.

Humming a tune,  Lin Ge  multitasked, flipping through the  Saniwa  forums in his head, aimlessly planning his career.

Sure, slacking off feels great, and constant slacking feels even better.

But higher-level  Saniwa  get way better perks.

He rinsed the soap off his hands, stacking the clean plates one by one.

Take teleportation cooldowns, for example.

High-level  Saniwa  have more energy reserves in their  Honmaru. Every 12 hours, they can recharge enough for a round trip.

Or basic  Honmaru  infrastructure—different levels mean different building specs and more functional options.

Bottom line: want a comfy life? Go on missions, work hard, get rewarded. Fair and square.

“Don’t push me…”

“You’re stepping on my foot!”

“Shh, we’ll get caught!”

His ears twitched, sensing something.  Lin Ge  turned to see a stack of colorful heads peeking from behind the wall.

Like a game of connect-the-dots.

Lin Ge: “…”

What, you got supervisors now?

Think I’m gonna steal your plates?

—

Honmaru · Meeting Pavilion

A faint incense burned in the corner, its smoke curling upward. Rainbow light filtered through stained-glass windows, dancing on the light brown floor, livening up the room’s otherwise dull decor.

Sitting at the lower end,  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  anxiously sipped his tea, fretting over the  Saniwa  washing dishes alone.

He’d asked  Kashuu Kiyomitsu  to look after him, but…

“ Yamanbakiri.”

Mikazuki Munechika  spoke up.

Snapping out of it,  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  nodded, sitting up straight. “ Mikazuki-dono, go ahead.”

“You’re planning to sign a contract with the new  Saniwa?”

Mikazuki Munechika  got straight to the point.

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  answered without hesitation, “Yes.”

A brief silence.  Mikazuki Munechika  closed his eyes. “What’s he got that makes you willing to pledge your loyalty?”

“There’s something.”