Story Reader / Event Story / Magpie's Fortune / Story
Sniff...
Commandant
Street vendors are calling out, and laughter is getting louder, revealing a busy thoroughfare brimming with life.
This is it, but there's such a huge crowd...
Alright, I'll guide Commandant through the crowd.
The data on the terminal says that in moments like this, I should hold on tight to you so you won't get lost.
No sooner does No. 21 say this than she grabs your hand and pushes deeper into the crowd.
To avoid running into other tourists, you tighten your grip on No. 21's hand and practically get dragged right to a pastry shop.
Happy Double Seventh—Lovers' Delights for sale!
Mmm... the smell of sesame.
No. 21 is leaning against the glass case, blinking at the dazzling array of pastries like a curious little animal.
Hey there, looking to buy some Lovers' Delights?
Commandant, I want this one!
No. 21 is gently swinging your arm back and forth with one hand, while pointing at the pastries behind the glass display with the other. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation.
Sure thing! That's two servings of Lovers' Delights. Which design are you thinking of?
We have peaches, tigers, kittens, birds...
I want one with a little wolf.
Huh... A wolf? Sorry, kid, but we don't have any wolf designs here.
Um...
No. 21 pouts and lets out a low grumble, sounding a bit annoyed.
You say this as you gently rub her head.
Then I want a bird. Its wings look like the emblem you wear.
I want to find out how it tastes.
Mmm, crunchy, and it smells good.
Commandant, have a bite too.
No. 21 sits on a chair outside the shop, pulls out a Lovers' Delight from the bag, and holds it out for you to try.
It's a little dry—I still prefer sweet things... Huh?
No. 21 sniffs the air like an animal on patrol, scanning the busy, traffic-filled streets.
Sniff... That pungent smell—it's like something's getting burned.
Sniff sniff. Commandant, over here.
The Construct is still munching on the Lovers' Delights as she holds your hand and leads you to a nearby shop.
Outside, you see sugar art and pastries in all sorts of shapes. When the shopkeeper spots you, he quickly wipes his hands and steps out from the wonderfully aromatic workspace.
On-Me Crisp! Care for one, dear customer?
All right, thanks.
As soon as the shop owner finishes speaking, No. 21 promptly pops a sugar pastry from the stall into her mouth.
Hey! Young lady, you have to pay before you eat!
Huh? Didn't you just say it's "on me"?
Well, this pastry is called On-Me Crisp. When we want to attract customers, we just shout "On-Me Crisp!" It's a tradition that goes back generations in Kowloong.
Of course. If you'd like, you can make it yourself.
Commandant, I want to try.
You pay the shop owner and walk into the workshop with No. 21, where the sweet aroma of sugar greets you at once.
A small metal pot bubbles with brown liquid, and No. 21, eyes alight with curiosity, nearly sticks her hand right in.
Um...
To demonstrate properly, you hand No. 21 a metal spoon and guide her to scoop up a spoonful of syrup from the pot, then drizzle it onto the silicone paper.
A little wolf... alright! Commandant, you draw the back, and I do the front.
No. 21 keeps a close watch on your every move, carefully scooping spoonful after spoonful of syrup to form the little wolf she imagines.
You two work briskly on the paper, and before long, a somewhat abstract creature emerges.
...There's still something missing.
With two more spoonfuls of syrup, No. 21 adds a pair of golden wings to the little wolf's back.
When a little wolf grows wings, it instantly becomes the most formidable hunter in the forest.
I'll name it. This is No. 21 and Commandant.
No. 21 happily wiggles her tail-like balance device.
This is something I draw with you. I want to keep it with me at all times.
This is something I draw with you. I want to keep it with me at all times.
Then I want to remember its taste forever.
The brownish-red syrup has cooled now, and with your help, No. 21 carefully peels the little wolf off the paper.
The Construct beams with delight and holds the little wolf aloft. In the late-afternoon sunlight, its golden wings shimmer brilliantly.
No. 21 runs a few steps ahead, then turns around to look at you lingering behind her.
There are so many unusual scents over there, Commandant. Come along with me.
