Favna didn’t dare touch her fried noodles or sip her drink, sitting rigidly upright with her back perfectly straight.
Under Alte’s odd gaze, she felt like vanishing on the spot.
“Um… uh… I didn’t know this was a couple’s set meal…” she whimpered.
By the end, Favna miserably tugged her hood lower, adjusted her mask, looking exactly like a groundhog trying to burrow into a hole.
That pitiful sound almost made Alte chuckle—but truth be told, he was awkward too.
He still hadn’t figured out why Favna picked this seat.
He’d missed it earlier, but the couple’s drink finally clicked.
This zone… was the couples’ section.
Glancing at the cozy pairs around them, Alte wasn’t sure if he was taking advantage. Still, they weren’t close—he should keep distance.
Still…
“How careless must Miss Favna be to choose a place like this?”
“Mmph…”
Favna clutched her head, face flushed, but mostly wishing she could dig a hole and vanish.
She’d been so busy mentally numbing herself upon entering, she never noticed where she sat.
I just want to go home… I can’t stay here another second.
Meanwhile, the waiter noticed they hadn’t touched food or drinks and approached politely.
“Excuse me—was the meal not to your liking?”
“Ah!” Startled by the stranger’s voice, Favna stammered, “N-no! It’s… it’s fine!”
Yet she eyed the drink like a hot potato, instinctively shrinking back.
“Thank you for the kind words, miss. May I recommend another dish?”
His courteous tone left her helpless. Inside, she was sobbing—but she nodded weakly.
“Yes.”
“As you see,” the waiter gestured to a nearby sign, “it’s Valentine’s Day. The couple’s set—normally 198 gold—is now 148. What do you think…?”
The hint was clear: *Will you order it?*
The socially anxious, reclusive Dragonkin glanced at Alte.
That infuriating Dragon Knight just watched silently, clearly enjoying the show.
Worse—the set was way too expensive.
Ordering it would bankrupt her!
Asking *him* to pay? No way she’d dare ask a stranger she just met.
Trapped between the waiter’s expectant stare and her wallet’s silent screams…
After a long internal battle, even her social anxiety bowed to money. Gritting her teeth, she stood and faced Alte.
“I really don’t want to argue with you here.”
“Hm?”
The waiter kept a professional smile. Alte blinked—*Wait, I was just spectating! How am I involved?!*
Favna ignored his confusion, voice trembling in self-abandonment.
“Do we… do we *really* need this… this breakup meal?”
“Huh?”
“You’re awkward, I’m uncomfortable. Eat alone. I’m leaving.”
Head bowed, voice barely a whisper, she even stuttered—terrified of being recognized.
…Though honestly, hardly anyone in Naro City knew her.
Alte was utterly baffled.
Before he could speak, Favna shot up and scrambled away like a panicked rabbit.
“Sir,” the waiter said smoothly, “two fried noodle plates: 10 gold. The young lady’s drink: 15. Could you settle the bill?”
Sighing wryly, Alte paid—still confused.
“Did she just bolt from sheer panic? What *was* that…”
Later, recalling her fleeing figure, he noticed it: beneath her tightly wrapped cloak, a silvery dragon tail swayed faintly.
The Dragon Knight murmured after a pause,
“Could she be a Dragonkin? Or… from the Dragon Clan?”
He shook his head.
“No. No dragon would be *that* weak.”
***
Meanwhile, after fleeing the Donut Café, Favna stumbled disoriented through the streets until she reached her cluttered, dim apartment.
Inside the familiar gloom, her anxiety finally melted away.
She stripped off her clothes, pulled on an oversized T-shirt, and flopped face-first into her pillow.
Ugh… remembering her desperate café escape made her cringe *even harder* now!!!
What *was* I even saying?!
She writhed on the bed like a maggot, twisting in despair before wailing,
“Please, heavens—just give me a time machine!”
Silence. No reply.
After who knows how long—calmed down or selectively amnesiac—she sat at her desk in just her T-shirt.
“Sure enough… the online world is where I belong. Reality is *too* terrifying.”
The moment her screen lit up, Favna transformed back into her online giant persona. Her slender fingers danced across the keyboard.
To survive, she ran small intel trades on the dark web—Naro City’s low-key information broker.
She accessed shady corners but stayed surface-level: merchant caravan routes, goods bought high or sold low—helping wealthy clients prep funds.
Why log on now? Simple: she needed cash.
Scanning dark web listings, she spotted a strange request:
“High reward for any clues regarding the Dragon Clan…”
Alarm bells blared in her mind.
Why hunt Dragon Clan intel?
…Could someone be planning to hunt *dragons*?
