On The Honeymoon (5)

“Ask them what they’re doing here—and who those guys from earlier were. Also, tell them we have no intention of hurting them if they don’t plan to attack us.”

“Got it.”

Rurin nodded and started shouting in a language I couldn’t understand.

“Kun-KUUUN! Ku-kun-ku-KUN!”

…That was way too short. I’m pretty sure I asked a longer question than that.

So if it’s that short…

“Rurin…”

“What! I’m busy right now.”

“Busy? What did you just say? That was way too short.”

“No, I’m gonna say your part now.”

“Then what did you just say?”

“Why do you even ask? I just said, ‘This is my husband.’ That’s all.”

Rurin looked smug as hell and shrugged.

The monsters looked super confused—not that I could blame them.

I mean, who declares “This is my husband!” in the middle of a tense standoff? What kind of intro is that?

“Kukukun-kuguguku-kukukukukun-kun! Kukukun…”

Then Rurin finally asked the actual question. One of the little monsters—probably their leader—replied, speaking a long string of sounds in their weird language.

So much “kun-kun”-ing it was starting to give me a headache.

So I just decided to call them “Kuns” in my head. Like how we call the other ones “Luruns” based on their language. Same naming logic.

“I see. Very well!”

Rurin apparently finished the convo and walked back over to me.

I was super curious, so I pulled her in. She landed against me and gave me that ‘sigh, what now’ look.

“What do you mean ‘very well’? Explain it, woman.”

“It was so long! Those guys talk way too much! Anyway, they said they’re mining those disgusting things we ate earlier.

“And those monsters from earlier? They’re the rulers of this ruin’s first floor.

“There’s a big chamber deeper in where those guys gather, and these ones just dig up food to send to them.

“The ground here is full of those gross mushrooms, but they’re hard to dig up. That’s why they force the little ones to do it.

“They’re thankful for our help, but they said there’s a ton of those brutes up ahead, so we should run away.

“But I told them I’m stronger.

“They said those guys are guarding the entrance to the second floor of the ruins—but none of them have ever been up there, so they don’t know what it’s like.”

“Oh, really? Damn. That’s a lot.”

“I’m exhausted! Ughhh.”

“Ask them if they’ve got water.”

I stroked Rurin’s hair as she clung to my arm and nudged her to translate again.

“Kuuu, kukukun!”

Judging from the tone, I’m pretty sure that last part meant “Where is it?”—as in “Where’s the water?”

Be it person, monster, or animal—nothing survives without water. If they’ve lived here this whole time, there’s gotta be water.

“They said follow them.”

“Alright. Let’s go, then.”

I nodded, Rurin said something to the Kun again, and we started walking.

The crowd of Kuns parted to let us through. Over a hundred of them moved aside—it looked epic.

Is this what the parting of the Red Sea looked like?

After a short walk, we reached the spot—and there really was a pool of water. Well, of course—it was a puddle.

It wasn’t dirty, though. Pretty clean, actually. I wasn’t sure how the water collected here—if it was from groundwater, I guess it wasn’t technically stagnant.

Either way, it looked drinkable. And even if it wasn’t, we didn’t have the luxury of being picky.

Rurin’s Dragon Heart can even purify poison.

We were thirsty from walking—and Rurin had been talking forever—so she charged at the water without hesitation.

She scooped it up with both hands and slurped it down.

Definitely not stagnant. I expected lukewarm, but it was super refreshing.

How could the mushrooms taste like hell, but the water be top-tier?

This “ruin” the Kuns talked about felt weird. Like, if they can have good water, why not tasty mushrooms too?

“You.”

“Hm?”

“This is so cold and nice… I want beer.”

“Really? Are you pretending this is beer now, Rurin?”

“……”

In response, she scooped water, stared at the ceiling, drank again, then gazed off into the distance…like she was trying to will it into being beer.

“Even if I pretend… Water’s still just water!”

Resigned to reality, Rurin wiped her mouth, devastated that water wouldn’t magically become beer.

The Kuns—fluffy balls with arms and legs—watched us drink happily. They started bouncing like they were excited we liked it.

A few hours later.

Rurin was completely exhausted, lying on my thigh like a pillow.

After we drank, we got more intel from the Kuns. But the effort wiped Rurin out, and she collapsed onto my lap.

Her biggest problem? No matter how little she does, she gets super hungry.

She was holding her stomach and glaring at me—hungry, accusatory eyes.

But there was also sparkle in those eyes—like she knew I would fix this. Pure belief.

It’s nice that she believes in me, but…the sad truth is, those nasty mushrooms are all we’ve got.

Anyway, hunger aside for now.

From what the Kuns told us, the path ahead led to where the big monsters lived.

The problem? There were a lot of them.

Over a hundred. Even for Rurin, that’s a bit much solo.

That was the extent of what the Kuns knew.

They’d lived their whole lives down here. So they didn’t know much beyond this floor. Which means they’re likely the lowest-tier monsters, and the brutes above them are the second-floor overlords.

If we beat the second-floor guys, maybe we’ll find the exit.

Let’s hope it’s a simple hierarchy. Bottom: slaves. Top: rulers.

Either way, our best shot at the exit lies in that direction.

So all we needed now…was a plan to deal with over a hundred of those bulky bastards.

—Growl.

But no plan came to mind—just hunger. My stomach was now screaming louder than my brain.

Can’t think on an empty stomach. Which means… We were going to have to eat those rubbery or sour mushrooms again. For survival.

What’s wild is that the Kuns were munching those tire-tasting things like they were nothing.

I asked Rurin to check if they found it tasty—they didn’t even get the concept of flavor. They’d grown up eating this crap and thought it was normal.

And from what we could see, they didn’t have anything else.

The Kuns had piled up mushrooms in front of us because Rurin said she was hungry…and all I could do was sigh.

At this point, we didn’t really have a choice.

To fill our bellies, we had to eat them—somehow.

So then…

As a chef, I had to try something. We had no seasoning, no ingredients. There was only one option left.

Grilling.

Mushrooms are usually better grilled. Sure, the tire flavor might not vanish…but maybe we could tone it down.

“Rurin, get up for a second. I’m gonna try to make these at least edible.”

“Oh! You have an idea?”

“Not exactly. But I’ve got a theory. Just hang tight.”

“Ehh…?”

Her eyes lit up—but I shot that down quick. Then I looked around and found a flat, thin rock.

“Rurin, ask the Kuns if they have fire.”

“Fire?”

“Yeah.”

She gave me a weird look, but asked anyway. A moment later, she nodded—got an answer.

“They said they sleep near fire at night to stay warm. Makes sense—it is kinda chilly here.”

The Kuns? Really?

They’re literal fluffy balls of heat, and they still need fire?

Doesn’t really add up, but hey—good news, they’ve got fire.

I suddenly pictured a caveman tribe huddling by fire at night.

So I set up two rocks as supports, placed the flat stone across them, and asked the Kuns to light a fire underneath.

They nodded, pulled out a strangely colored rock, and some straw-like material.

They said the straw was from vines growing in the ceiling—cut as much as you want, it regrows. They even sleep on it.

They look like living blankets, yet they still need blankets and fire. Go figure.

Anyway, they lit the fire, no problem. The flame was decent.

The flat rock started heating up.

Once it was hot enough, I sliced the mushrooms flat and laid them on.

“Ooooh.”

Rurin sat on a big stone, resting her chin in her hands like a hungry puppy, eyes fixed on me.

That look in her eyes—like a wife watching her husband cook for her. Cute, honestly.

I wanted to live up to that look—but the ingredient quality was garbage. No guarantees.

Sizzleeeee—!

The tire-mushrooms began to brown. The sizzling even made Rurin’s eyes light up—it sounded like meat grilling.

And it wasn’t just the sound—once they cooked a little, they actually started to smell…good.

Not bad, even. No, it was genuinely a good smell.

A rich, savory aroma that stirred my appetite.

Like the smell of onions slowly caramelizing to golden brown.

Okay, okay—not bad at all.

If grilling changed the smell…then maybe the taste too?

With that aroma, I couldn’t help but get my hopes up. I grabbed one with the makeshift tongs and started blowing on it.

“Ooooh…slurp…”

Rurin had fully ditched her usual grace and now clung to my arm, drooling like a starving puppy.

But we couldn’t repeat the disaster from earlier—so I calmed her down and said:

“Hold on, Rurin. You might end up spitting it out again. Let me try first.”

“…Okay.”

I took a bite of the grilled mushroom.

Hmm. With that smell, I expected a burst of savory juices and flavor.

Crunch.

It crumbled in my mouth, dry and crumbly—then slid down my throat.

No reaction.

There was…nothing. The flavor didn’t match the smell at all. It was just…hot. Not spicy—temperature hot.

It wasn’t that it tasted bad. It just didn’t taste like anything. Like flavorless food.

The more I chewed, the more the heat lingered—nothing else.

“Well?! Is it good?!”

Rurin looked like she was seconds away from drooling. She asked again, clearly at her limit. One more delay and she might explode.