"Hello?"

"Is this Ms. Kaneki? This is Chidori."

"Ah, Mr. Chidori. This is Kaneki. What’s up?"

"Well…"

Over the phone, I gave Ms. Kaneki a quick rundown about the character designs for *Zero Hour*, focusing on my disagreement with Natsuki.

After listening, Ms. Kaneki fell silent for a moment, then sighed. "Ai Luoli-sensei was definitely in the wrong here, but… Mr. Chidori, aren’t you a bit too obsessed with busty heroines?"

"Huh?"

"Honestly, I’ve wanted to mention this before—in all your works, the female lead is always busty, right?"

"Eh? Is that true?"

Hmm… it really was.

Cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I asked quietly into the phone, "Is that not allowed?"

"It’s not forbidden… but readers get tired of the same trope. Try more interesting character designs sometimes."

"Got it, I’ll consider your advice. But this book’s already—"

"Hand the phone to Ai Luoli-sensei. I’ll talk to her. And if she refuses, tell her I’ll visit her home personally."

"Understood."

I passed the phone to Natsuki. "Ms. Kaneki wants to speak with you."

"No way. I’ve been working hard lately—we’ve got nothing to discuss."

Natsuki backed away, pushing me with both hands, refusing to take it.

"She said if you don’t answer, she’ll come to your house."

"Ugh… fine, I’ll take it."

Resigned, she snatched the phone and growled, "Hello, Natsuki here."

Whatever Ms. Kaneki said made her instantly sit upright, kneeling properly on the sofa with teary eyes. "…Eh? Must I change it?"

"Next weekend? No—I’m sick. Hospitalized."

"…Don’t visit! It’s contagious!"

"Yes… alright. I’ll coordinate properly with Mr. Chidori."

Just how terrified of Ms. Kaneki is this girl?

Natsuki hung up and handed back the phone, frowning. "I’ll submit revised designs to Editor Kaneki next week. Once she approves, she’ll email you the final versions."

I was satisfied—Ms. Kaneki’s taste was reliable. If she approved, it’d be solid. Plus, no trip to the editorial office meant avoiding that pesky cult leader.

No need to discuss further today. I checked the living room clock—almost five—and stood up politely. "Stay for dinner?"

Natsuki’s designs had flaws, but she’d worked hard. Treating her was only right.

She agreed readily. "Sure! Though I bet Mr. Chidori’s cooking’s awful."

"Just wait quietly and eat. No extra comments."

I shot back, then headed to the kitchen.

Plenty of ingredients in the fridge—no supermarket run needed. Shira wasn’t eating here, but with a guest, I’d show off a little: four dishes and a soup.

Dinner finished fast. I brought the steaming yam and pork rib soup to the table last. "Come eat."

"Wow, looks amazing!"

Natsuki rushed over, eyes lighting up. She grabbed a soy-braised chicken wing and popped it in her mouth. "Mmm~ Didn’t know you could cook!"

"Wash your hands first! And use chopsticks!"

I scolded lightly, then served two bowls of rice.

After eating, Natsuki casually patted her belly, then leaned in dead serious. "Mr. Chidori, marry me."

I nearly dropped the dishes I was clearing.

What nonsense was this?

She counted on her fingers. "You handle chores, cook well, and your published novels earn good money."

Glancing up at me twice, she added, "And you’re not bad-looking. My ideal type! Marry me? Be my housekeeper."

"Sorry, but you’re not mine."

I refused instantly. Her standards just wanted a maid.

"Hehe, no taste at all."

Natsuki grinned, joking as she packed up. "I’m heading out. Bye."

"Take care. No need to see me off."