When I slowly opened that old wooden box with my eyes shut, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for anything. An artifact? A weapon? Classified documents? I opened my eyes.
A teddy bear.
A simple teddy bear, made of brown flannel fabric, with two black buttons for eyes and a red thread stitched into a smile.
"Wait a minute," I said, my voice coming out more bewildered than I intended. "You didn't give me the wrong gift, did you? I mean, you're giving me a teddy bear?"
Silence settled over the room for a moment, then Finnian let out an awkward laugh.
"Of course not. You once said back at the academy that you liked teddy bears," Irene replied. Her calm tone made handing a teddy bear to a nineteen-year-old running corporate operations and an espionage network sound like the most normal thing in the world. "So we decided to get you one."
I pressed my palm to my forehead. I had indeed said that once. It was a small lie I spread during my first year at the academy, part of the persona of an 'eccentric orphan' I crafted to make people underestimate me. I never imagined they would remember it, let alone take it seriously eight years later.
"Yeah, well, I'm an adult now, Irene. You do know that, right?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
"Adults have odd desires too, Welt," she shot back, her green eyes staring at me without blinking. "I'm much older than you, eight years to be exact, and I think it's perfectly normal. Age doesn't erase what we used to love when we were young."
I was taken aback. Her logic in its simplicity was undeniable, yet for some reason she seemed so foolishly honest in that moment. Still, a teddy bear? Something inside me, the part that was still Cheon Donghwan — too pragmatic and emotional for his own good — screamed that this was an inefficient, sentimental gift.
"Thank you," I said finally, lifting the bear from its box. The stitching was neat. The stuffing firm. It was clearly a quality product. "I'll keep it somewhere safe."
The party gradually wound down. The other guests had left, leaving only our inner circle: me, Irene, Finnian, Finch, Percy, and Silas.
The mood turned a bit awkward. The height of the celebration had passed, leaving behind a pleasant fatigue and emptiness. To steer everyone's attention away from that odd gift and to fill the quiet, an idea came to me. An idea born from hunger and a touch of nostalgia.
"I'll cook," I said suddenly.
Everyone looked at me.
"Cook what, Mister Rothes? You're planning to outdo yourself again?" Percy asked in his usual overly cheerful tone.
"Cook?" Finnian said. "But we just had cake and my food."
"Not for now," I explained. "For tonight. There's a dish from my homeland. Something you've never tried. And since today is special, I thought I'd make it for us."
I didn't know why I offered. Perhaps this rare moment of warmth made me want to share a small piece of the world I lost. Or perhaps it was just another strategy to deepen the bond with these assets through a shared experience. Maybe it was both.
"I'll help!" Finnian said with his typical enthusiasm.
"Me too!" Percy chimed in.
"I'll observe," Finch said quietly from his corner.
"I'm not good at cooking," Irene said. "But I can help chop vegetables like before. As long as you give me clear instructions, you know that, don't you?"
I brought them back into my kitchen.
"We're going to make fried rice," I said. "But first, we need to cook the rice. And here, that's a bit more complicated."
I pulled out a sack of rice from the storage drawer. Not ordinary rice — this was rice from the Gwent Highlands, known for its soft texture and distinctive aroma. I showed them how to wash it properly, removing the excess starch.
Then came the interesting part. I placed the rice and water into a thick metal pot. Instead of putting it on the stove, I set it in the middle of the kitchen table and placed both my hands over the lid.
"What are you doing?" Irene asked, her analytical eyes tracking my every move.
"Cooking," I answered.
I channeled my Void Essence, but not in its raw form. I transformed it, imitating the properties of fire essence with absolute temperature control. I didn't produce visible flames since that would draw too much attention. I only generated pure, evenly distributed heat throughout the pot. This was a slow application of the Bizarre Dao, although by some accounts, the Oneiric Channel could certain spells beyond the dream realm.
Within minutes, steam began to drift from the edges of the lid. The aroma of cooking rice began to fill the room.
While the rice cooked, I started preparing the other ingredients. I brought out beef, chicken, eggs, and various vegetables. I showed them how to chop everything. Finnian, as usual, nearly cut his fingers several times. Irene, on the other hand, sliced everything perfectly, almost like a professional chef, once I explained the knife angles and the thickness needed. Finch stayed silent in his corner, observing, but I could practically see his mind recording every technique I demonstrated. Percy chopped shallots with his usual boundless cheer.
Silas sat in a chair, smiling at us, quietly enjoying this strange sense of family.
Once everything was ready, the rice finished cooking perfectly. I lifted the lid, revealing each grain fluffy and steaming.
"Now for the fun part," I said.
I heated a large wok on an Essence stove. I tossed in minced garlic and shallots, stirring until they were fragrant. Then I added pieces of chicken and beef.
Sizzle.
The sound and aroma of meat frying filled the kitchen. I cracked in the eggs, scrambling them. Then I added the rice, stirring quickly to ensure every grain was coated in oil and seasoning. I tossed in the vegetables, soy sauce, and a few substitute spices for ingredients we couldn't get here.
After a few minutes, it was done. The smell filled the kitchen, rich and comforting.
I plated the fried rice on large dishes, topped with sunny-side-up eggs and a sprinkling of crispy fried shallots.
"Help yourselves," I said. "Welt Rothes's special fried rice."
They began to eat. The first expression on their faces was surprise, followed by pure delight. The savory, slightly sweet, and mildly spicy taste was something they had never experienced before. In a world where food was mostly boiled or roasted, a dish stir-fried with complex seasoning was its own kind of magic.
"What is this food?" Finnian asked with his mouth full. "I've never tasted anything this good!"
"Just a simple meal," I replied.
We ate together, talked, and laughed as before.
When our little gathering came to an end and the night grew late, they all said their goodbyes. Finnian promised to try making fried rice on his own. Finch gave me a polite nod and a slight bow, ever courteous as he wished me goodnight. Silas hugged me for a moment — a paternal gesture that felt awkward but warm. Percy cheerfully followed Finch out, waving as he left.
Irene was the last to go. "Thank you for dinner, Welt," she said at the doorway with a gentle smile. "And for everything."
"You're welcome," I said.
After she left, I was alone again in my quiet loft. Dirty plates and the remnants of the party were the only proof that any of it had actually happened.
I walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. I picked up the teddy bear they had given me. I looked into its black button eyes and the simple stitched smile.
I hugged the bear. I thought of who I used to be — Cheon Donghwan, the boy who never had toys, who never had birthdays. A boy who only knew work and hatred.
Was this redemption? Was this a second chance? I didn't know.
I sat there in the dark, lit only by the city lights outside the window since I had turned off all the lamps for the night. I held the teddy bear tight, a small anchor in the middle of my sea of uncertainty.
That was when I felt a faint chill at the back of my neck. The same sensation I always felt when I was being watched.
I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, staring at the large window reflecting my own shadow.
And within that reflection, behind my shoulder, I could see it clearly.
A pair of glowing red eyes shining in the darkness of the room.