(Cassian's POV)
"A… panda."
First it was an orc, then a bear, a hippo… and now a panda. What the hell is the author doing?
I just wanted a peaceful meal. A calm dinner. A bite of egg roll. Then back to my room, maybe daydream a little before bed.
But no.
That was apparently too much to ask.
Now this big, fat, fluffy, and weirdly cute panda was sitting across from me—just staring. Unblinking. Like I owed him money or something.
It was making me nervous for no reason.
"So, kid," the panda rumbled, his voice deep and calm. "Did you just say 'bear chef'?"
Excuse me?
This guy was literally a panda. No matter how I squinted at him, there was no way I could accept this as a human. His face was way too fluffy and round. How could someone look cute and scary at the same time?
"Kid," the panda leaned closer, glasses sliding down his snout, "I'm asking you something."
"Ah—yes! Do you… know him?"
"Hmm…" The panda rubbed his chin. "He is my master… and my rival."
I blinked. "Master and rival? That's new."
"Well, that's fine, kid," the panda said, folding his paws with grace no panda should have. "Now tell me… how is his dish better than mine?"
I coughed awkwardly. "Uh… it's just my personal opinion. I ate his food day and night for six months, so maybe I got used to it. But I think this soup could use a bit more flavor."
His ears twitched.
"And the potatoes… they could be cheesier. The steak? Maybe a few more herbs during the roast. That's all. I just compared it with the Bear Chef's cooking."
I looked up, expecting him to roar, or toss the table, or flip dramatically into kung-fu stance.
Instead, I froze.
He had pulled out a tiny notepad, adjusted his glasses, and was scribbling notes with a pen like a food critic.
"Thanks, kid. Appreciate the honest feedback," the panda said seriously. "Here, take this choco lava cake. Even Bear Chef can't make this one!"
He slid the dark-brown dessert across the table.
I hesitated, then took a bite.
And instantly regretted every criticism I ever made.
As soon as I cut into the soft cake, melted chocolate oozed out like a divine river of sweetness. I devoured the entire thing in seconds. Some syrup clung to my lips, but I didn't care. It was glorious.
"Let's eat the rest while I'm at it…"
Burp.
Full and victorious, I left the cafeteria. Thankfully, no one was doing the dishes—or this helpful body of mine would probably volunteer to wash them.
Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed.
Tomorrow's the big day. I'll officially become an Exorcist under the Church. With that kind of position, I'll be making enough to live comfortably—as long as I don't die, that is.
I'll send some money home, too. They'll be happy.
As I slowly slipped into dreams, warmth filled my chest.
Maybe this weird life… isn't so bad after all.
Darkness gently covered my eyes, and I drifted off to sleep.
Next morning –
"…Is this really the job of a healer?"
—To be continued.