I was sure they’d be at the villa for at least an hour.
I hastily checked the time, but an hour hadn’t passed yet.
Even if I’d hesitated for a while, it hadn’t been that long.
…So why were they here?
"Why are you two here? I thought you said you’d come in an hour…"
"Did you really believe that?"
"…What?"
"Even with luggage, it wouldn’t take a whole hour. Maybe a little time, sure."
Amelia and Dorothy’s grinning faces made it click.
These two… they saw everything.
"So? How was it? Fun?"
"…"
"Hmm? How was it? What did you think of Arte’s skin? Hmm? Hmm?"
A surge of betrayal hit me.
Amelia, fine. I was used to her.
She was always coming up with absurd plans and carrying them out, so I’d grown numb to it.
I could’ve just brushed it off as another one of Amelia’s antics today.
But Dorothy too? I never expected her to be in on it.
That was why I’d actually believed it would take a full hour.
"Dorothy, even you…!"
"Sorry. But it just looked so fun, I couldn’t help it…"
So Dorothy was just another girl her age after all.
I’d seen her reading books before.
I’d thought she had a refined sensibility, but…
I never imagined she’d use that sensibility for something like this.
"Please forgive me. But the way you two were so aware of each other was just too entertaining."
"Right?"
"…"
Near ink is black, as they say.
Had Dorothy been corrupted by Amelia without me noticing?
She’d always had a taste for romance, but meeting Amelia seemed to have twisted that into something less wholesome.
"So? What happened in the end?"
"What do you mean?"
"Arte! Even I think she’s pretty! A guy touching her bare skin with his own hands—there’s no way nothing happened!"
"Nothing happened."
"Liar! We couldn’t see the details from far away, but… Be honest, you got excited, didn’t you?!"
"I didn’t."
"…Really?"
It was a lie.
How could any man stay calm after seeing that, touching it, even hearing her cute screams?
I’d had a problem so big it had taken me a while to stand up again.
But Yu Siwoo didn’t tell the truth.
After all, the moment he saw Amelia, it had vanished instantly.
No matter how hard she stared, there was no evidence.
So what if she was pretty?
It was Amelia.
Luckily, that made lying easy.
"Hmm. You don’t have some kind of dysfunction, do you? That’d be a problem…"
"I’m fine!"
"Hmm…"
Amelia’s suspicious gaze made my blood boil.
Had this bitch forgotten that I was a man and she was a woman?
If she were in her right mind, there’s no way she’d say something like this to me…
Ah, right. Amelia wasn’t in her right mind.
I understood instantly.
"…What’s with that look? It’s creepy."
"It’s nothing. So? What’s all that you brought? Seems like a lot for just food and drinks."
Ignoring Amelia’s sharp glare, I changed the subject.
If this had been me back when I first enrolled, maybe I’d have flinched, but not now.
After getting used to Amelia, a look like that didn’t even register.
"Great question!"
As if pleased by the question, Dorothy began unpacking the load she’d brought, spreading it all out.
"…Ooh, that looks good."
"Right? But it’s not just that."
"Huh?"
Among the mouthwatering cuts of meat, a few vegetables peeked out.
It was unmistakably Amelia’s doing—the ingredients for a barbecue, perfectly suited to her tastes. My eyes were drawn in as I swallowed, thinking, Meat really is the best.
Then the second box opened.
What I saw inside left me stunned.
"…Alcohol?"
"Heh, isn’t alcohol the perfect companion for a trip?"
"Well, yeah… I guess so."
Dorothy’s haul was packed with bottles of liquor.
I couldn’t tell exactly what kinds they were, but the colors and shapes were all different—dozens of varieties, at least.
"…We’re supposed to drink all of this?"
"Are you crazy? We can’t finish all this. It’s for making cocktails."
"Have you made them before?"
"Don’t worry. I can manage the basics."
Amelia grinned as she said it.
"The sun’s setting soon. Let’s have dinner. How about a party by the seaside, watching the night view?"
"Heh, sounds fun."
Leaving the two of them smiling happily behind me, I turned to look at Arte, floating lazily in the middle of the sea.
At some point, she’d stolen the tube Amelia had been using and was now lounging on it, enjoying her vacation.
At the sight of her relaxed figure, I smiled slightly and shouted,
"Arte! Dinner’s ready! Come quick!"
Sssssssss.
The meat and skewers sizzled deliciously as they cooked.
Watching the scene, the Author let out a pained groan.
[Uuuuugh… I’m so… so hungry… Why do I have to just sit here watching…?]
Beats me.
If he’s got a problem with it, he can come down and eat.
Though if he actually did, I’d punch him.
Not that he could even come down in the first place. Who knows.
"…Still, Amelia knows more than I expected."
"More than you expected?"
"No, it’s just…"
I watched as she skillfully measured with a jigger, poured into a shaker, and shook it up.
She looked surprisingly professional.
"Ah, this? My grandpa taught me a bit. Thought it looked cool."
"...I started to wonder just what kind of person that butler grandfather of yours really is."
"He’s not weird or anything. Just an old man who knows more than most people and can do more than most people."
The clinking of ice inside the shaking shaker echoed loudly.
...Hmm, this has a nice vibe.
"My dad was always busy even when I was little."
"Ah, right. Lionel was your parent."
"Hearing that from someone my age feels a little strange. But yeah, he was famous, so every day was packed for him."
The shaking stopped, and the contents of the shaker were poured into a triangular glass.
After filling four glasses, Amelia garnished them with sliced lime and brought them over to us.
"That’s why the old man was hired. He’s so familiar to me that he might as well be family."
"Sounds like he’s practically part of the family, then."
"Yeah. Honestly, calling it an employer-employee relationship feels off at this point. Neither of us really cares about that anymore."
I took a sip from the martini glass.
Was it the sugar? A faint sweetness lingered.
Along with it came the refreshing tang of lime and the distinct flavor of rum.
The sweet and sour taste was exquisite.
"How is it?"
"It’s good."
"Good. It’s my first time serving someone else."
"Why?"
"...Because I never had friends to make it for."
I took another sip, but this time, the sweet and sour taste seemed to vanish.
Even though there were no bitter ingredients, I felt like I’d just swallowed a mouthful of bitter medicine.
"Hmm... I *am* kind of amazing, right?"
"Saying it yourself, huh..."
"Ah, what? It’s true, Dorothy."
"...Well, objectively speaking, you’re not wrong."
A prestigious family, a face beautiful enough to be chosen as a heroine.
As Amelia said herself—and as Siwoo had pointed out—she *was* an extraordinary person.
"Maybe that’s why... um. I got jealous a lot."
"..."
"It’s not like I didn’t have people I *could* call friends, but... um. They only approached me because of my looks, my family. Things like that."
I already knew.
Amelia’s story, the one she was casually recounting under the influence of the atmosphere and the alcohol, was a story I was already familiar with.
"They were only friends on the surface. None of them were *real* friends."
I knew that part too.
Because it was the story the Author had set. Because it was the story I’d heard directly from the Author.
"So... well, there was never anyone to make this for. Everyone said students try rebelling at least once, so I worked hard to learn how."
Amelia laughed, as if embarrassed by her past self, saying her childhood dream had been to sneak drinks with friends behind the adults’ backs.
"The old man thought it was fine for me to have that kind of experience once when I was young, so he taught me easily. Though in the end, I never got to use it."
"...I see."
"I thought I’d spend my whole life learning without ever getting to use it."
She downed her drink in one go, then laughed as if delighted.
"Meeting you all made my dream come true!"
"...Well, only half of it. We’re already adults, after all."
"Ah, come on! Isn’t trying it out enough?"
"You’re right. That’s a relief."
Everyone laughed as if genuinely happy, so I laughed along with them.
...Yeah, that’s how it was.
The author had said that Amelia never had a friend she could open up to as a child.
That’s why they added the setting that she truly wanted a friend. I remembered that part.
Just as the author said. Exactly as the author wrote.
Amelia had no friends as a child, so she wanted someone she could confide in.
...But had the author decided even the process?
Amelia wanted a friend, so she learned how to make cocktails from her butler grandfather.
There was also the setting that she was the daughter of a wealthy family.
That’s why she had a famous hero for a father, and because her father was too busy, she was raised by her butler grandfather instead.
And all those settings came together, so now Amelia stood here, making us cocktails with a happy smile on her face.
Had the author really set it up so that Amelia would know how to make cocktails?
Probably not. I was skeptical.
"...It’s delicious. Could I have another?"
"Huh? Sure! Guess you like Bartender Amelia’s skills!"
"Yes. Please, Bartender."
"Leave it to me!"
I watched Amelia, who cheerfully scooped ice into the shaker again.
Maybe thinking of this world as a puppet show was absurd.
Maybe everyone I’d killed was real, and this was just another world.
Maybe they were people forced to become villains by the author’s power.
Or maybe they were exactly what I thought—villains who deserved to die.
"Here you go!"
"Thanks."
I stared at the drink in my glass with slightly blurred vision.
A cocktail with the sweetness of sugar, the tang of lime, and the distinct flavor of rum blending into something new.
Maybe the author was just someone who added a little grapefruit to a finished cocktail to tweak the taste.
...I don’t know. I didn’t want to know the truth.
I looked at Amelia. She was smiling happily.
Was it because of the setting that she wanted a true friend?
I took another sip.
Could I really call myself her friend?
Not when I couldn’t accept the world for what it was.
The alcohol’s strong scent lingered in the sip I’d taken.