Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

Finally, the other party emphasized that if you visit, please be sure not to bring anything gold.

Mori Yuesha didn't even plan to go, okay...

Recovering my thoughts, Yuno Agatsuma sat in front of me gently, her soft and sticky tone overflowing with doting: "Let's eat eel rice. I'm not tired, I'll buy ingredients later and treat it as a walk.

It's rare that Sawamura-san wants to eat, so as a member of the group...

As half the master, you must satisfy her at least, right?

Yuesha, what do you want to eat?"

"Same. Then I'll accompany you."

Without giving Yuno my wife a chance to refute, Mori Tsukisa stood up and went into the bathroom.

At the back of the corridor, Eriri, who had not left, looked even more puzzled - what was wrong with her?

Also, who is the half master!

Asshole, I knew Mori Yuesa several years before you did! !

——The silly lady passed by angrily——

In the end, I had eel rice for dinner.

Or rather, food like eel rice.

After Eriri's strong self-recommendation, Mori Tsukisa finally reluctantly agreed to the "suggestion" of having her as the assistant and Agatsuma Yuno as the head chef.

Of course, if even Tomoya Aki understood this, there was no way Mori Tsukisa wouldn’t understand it—this otaku painter couldn’t cook at all.

She was just joining in the fun.

Several eels were lost forever.

Mori Yuesha watched helplessly as a plate of excellent eel was cooked with the help of Miss Sawamura...

It became eel porridge.

Later, she 'put all her efforts' into it again.

Eel porridge became eel soup.

Yuno Agatsuma had no choice but to take out the curry from the refrigerator again, turn on the stove, and make three portions of curry rice.

Served with eel soup.

While eating, the atmosphere at the table was a bit weird.

Eriri, who was sitting next to Mori Tsukisa, no longer had the arrogance she had when she just got involved in the cooking. She lowered her head and kept picking at the rice, not even touching the pot of soup.

"you really……"

Come to think of it, Mori Tsukisa understands Eriri's personality. The most interesting thing about this guy is...

I'm just angry with myself.

Smiling, Mori Yuesha scooped a bowl of soup and placed it in front of the girl: "Okay~ It's normal. I once burned the kitchen when I was cooking."

Ying Lili snorted angrily - she could obviously do it well!

"I just read it wrong! Who told you not to label the sugar and salt? I put the wrong seasoning in, so of course I have to add water to dilute it..."

Isn’t this what painting is all about?

Mori Yuesha pointed at the eel soup and said, "I'll assume you put the wrong seasoning. It's understandable that you didn't distinguish between sugar and salt, but why did you put ginger in there?"

Ying Lili looked at the yellow lumps floating in the basin in surprise: "Isn't that a potato?"

Mori Yuesha: ...There are hairs on the ginger skin. Are you blind?

Promise me, Eriri.

Use your hands to paint well.

"I want to make you something to eat, too."

I couldn't hear what Eriri was mumbling, but Mori Yuesa coaxed her to finish her meal like she was coaxing a child, and only then did she have time to rest.

To be honest, it's more tiring than training in the gym for an afternoon.

Suddenly, a sense of saturation came from Mori Yuesha's magic void.

"Charging completed"

The girl smiled and spread her arms.

I'm going on a trip.

Interlude: The Great Ship of the Old Times

Chapter 1 Port of Southampton

Southampton in the UK has a history of more than 1000 years. It is located in a remote corner and is not bustling or noisy.

Just like the ancient mottled city walls and the calm sea.

Now, the sea finally began to have some waves.

The arrival of the first industrial peak brought many roaring, gas-guzzling cars to the roads that were once crowded with people. Their streamlined bodies, like beetles on wheels, hurried past passers-by, raising clouds of dust.

The men had slicked hair, wore casual suits with blue stripes, and wore trendy leather shoes;

Girls went even further, simply cutting their hair short and wearing loose-fitting straight skirts.

After hundreds of years of suppression, they now expose their arms and thighs and walk in the streets with their heads held high.

Some of them were playful and threw a few flirtatious glances at the boys who passed by. Only after their eyes were fixed on them would they laugh together with their sisters.

On the busy street, fried chicken shops and pocket watch shops are next to each other, and older gentlemen and trendy young men sit side by side.

In this era of changing course, both new and old are enjoying the sea breeze blowing from the port of Southampton.

On the side of the port, next to the benches.

A young girl is sitting in front of an easel, holding a long oil paintbrush in her hand.

She faced the horizon and carefully captured the flock of seabirds flying up and down on the canvas.

Not far away, a long-haired artist playing the violin was accompanying the scene. The serenade poured smoothly from the strings, making people feel as if they had returned to the heyday of 20 or 30 years ago, filled with leather and the fragrance of tea.

Passersby were not surprised. Some hurried by, while others stopped to watch for a while. I wonder if they were amazed by the girl's graceful figure or the melodious violin music.

A boy was left with his arm pinched by his girlfriend, who was grinning. He was reluctant to leave and looked back at the girl in a daze.

Different from the women of the new era.

The girl in the oil painting is calm and gentle, still wearing the 'old-fashioned' long skirt instead of shorts and short hair;

White lace is drawn at the waist, just enough to hold;

Under the crow-feather-like eyelashes are a pair of eyes as clear as winter springs, staring intently at the sea.

At the end of the eye, there is a small teardrop mole.

Her silky black hair fell to her waist, and against the backdrop of waves and wind, she looked like a princess from the deep sea, gently describing the hometown she had loved for many years.

After the boy left with a grin on his face, several old gentlemen on the bench behind him who were reading newspapers and chatting while smoking pipes began to snicker.

It’s great to be young, isn’t it?

If I were a few years younger...

Stroking his pocket watch, the white-haired old man looked at the still calm girl.

At this moment, a conversation came over.

"Hey, honey, see you later?"

The middle-aged man who was speaking had a slicked-back hairdo, which was common at the time, and had a very ordinary appearance.

He held the woman in his arms with a smug look on his face, revealing the glittering gold watch on his wrist.

The seams of his suit are straight and he's wearing shiny low-cut lace-up leather shoes.

This is a rich man.

The old gentleman looked away, unfolded the newspaper in his hand, but listened quietly to the conversation.

The girl smiled charmingly in the middle-aged man's arms: "See you later. After I get rid of that 'trouble', I will go to the coffee shop to find you. Darling, I like the way you are dressed."

The man shrugged when he heard this: "I like myself too."

While chatting with the woman in his arms, he looked at his watch to confirm the time.

The man swung his arms vigorously, as if he wanted to show off the golden watch more completely. "That's enough. I should go now. By the way, Mary, your necklace is really nice."

The girl kissed the middle-aged man's cheek and rolled her eyes in disdain: "That 'trouble' gave it to me."

The middle-aged man nodded, reached out and touched the waist of the young girl, and replied indifferently: "Solve your 'trouble' as soon as possible, Mary. My mother doesn't like women with 'trouble'."

"I know, I know, dear. Hey, you're almost my father, what do you want to do to your daughter?" The young girl said cunningly, and she pressed directly against the middle-aged man's chest. The two of them pressed closely together, rubbing their bodies against each other.

The old people sitting in rows reading newspapers sat upright, but their eyes were glancing quietly over the top of the newspapers.

"See you later, then."

The young girl sends off her middle-aged darling.

After a while, another one came - the timing was very precise, and the connection could be said to be seamless.

The other was a young handsome boy.

Several old men looked understanding.

This kind of thing is not uncommon, and it is not even as interesting as the news reported in the newspapers: at least, they can see the whole process of those lovers "committing the crime".

The young boy was wearing old-fashioned brown overalls and a crimson shirt, with cold features and deep eye sockets. He wore a dirty painter's hat on his head, with a few strands of golden hair scattered between the gaps.

He ran over from the other side of the dock with an excited look on his face, holding a rectangular paint box and a large sketchbook in his hands.

"Hey."

"Hi, Jack." Mary stood up from the bench with her hands behind her back in a reserved manner.

She no longer had the charming and enchanting look she had just now, and showed the shyness that a young girl should have.

"How about it? We'll go later--"

Mary rolled her eyes secretly and interrupted with her hand covering her mouth: "Sorry, Jack. I have something else to do. My aunt is going to take me to try on a new custom-made dress. You know, it's the banquet season now."

The boy was a little embarrassed, and he clenched the sketchbook in his hand even tighter. He forced a smile and nodded, and stretched out his hand to the girl's neck: "That necklace——"

"Thank you, Jack."

Mary took a step back and dodged. She smiled at the boy and covered her necklace with her hands: "Thank you for the necklace. I'm in a hurry, so I'll leave first."

"Hey! I'm about to get a chance to paint portraits of those - you know, big shots.

Then, I will buy you a more expensive one, a sapphire one? How about that? "

The blond boy shouted in place. The girl turned around, blew him a kiss, winked, and then turned into another street without looking back and left the port.

The old gentlemen who had watched the whole process raised their eyebrows, exchanged glances, and smiled.

While feeling bored, he turned his attention back to the quiet princess.

Yes, the girl who looked like a little princess seemed to have been painted.

She gathered her palette and brush, lowered her legs, and adjusted the hem of her skirt.

The boy next to him was bored and was trying to coax away the seabird that had landed next to him. When he turned around, he saw her.

"Nice painting."

The girl was not far from the young boy, so the two of them didn't need to talk too loudly.

The boy walked over, holding his sketchbook and paint box under his arm. He looked at the girl for a few times, and then looked at the painting with a look that was full of scrutiny.

"Who is this?" He suddenly saw his girlfriend in the painting.