CHAPTER 63: BARBECUE NIGHT

Mika sat stiffly on the living room sofa, shoulders tense, legs drawn in a little too close like he was ready to spring up at any second, but didn’t dare to.

He could feel Charlotte’s eyes on him as she moved over to the TV and switched it on, and from the corner of his eye, he spotted Yelena in the kitchen, pretending to be busy checking the spice rack and ingredients, though she kept stealing glances at him every other second.

They were watching him.

Like he’d bolt at the first opportunity.

And honestly, given the atmosphere, even he felt like running, as the house had been modified, subtly, but unmistakably. Security settings had shifted the moment he entered, and he could feel it.

The exit pathways were no longer available in the same casual way they had been earlier. The locks, the walls, the sensors. Yelena had changed everything, carefully calibrating the place so that unless he blew a hole through the house or phased straight through the damn walls, there was no getting out.

And she knew he could.

That’s what made her constant glancing even more intense.

He wasn’t just a guest anymore, he was being kept.

His entire body slowly melted into the sofa from the pressure, arms folded across his chest, gaze flicking to the TV as Charlotte switched to the news.

And just as the channel loaded, the face of a familiar executive filled the screen, stern, polished, and insufferably smug behind his podium. The logo of the aerospace company behind the downed plane glared beside him.

The man began speaking in that overly formal, robotic tone executives use when they’re trying to spin something into gratitude.

"We would like to formally thank Lady Yelena for her...valiant efforts in aiding the passengers aboard Flight 223 and for recovering the wreckage." He said. "It was, undoubtedly, an extraordinary display of power."

But then the tone shifted. A hard edge crept into his voice, his brow stiffening.

"However..." He continued. "This was a matter that should have been left to our designated emergency protocols. Our specialized teams were already en route, fully trained and equipped for this exact scenario."

"The unexpected intrusion of an external force, however well-intentioned, introduced unnecessary risk. Protocols exist for a reason, and acting outside of them, regardless of one’s capabilities, can only increase potential hazards."

"This incident, though resolved, could have resulted in an even greater catastrophe due to her unauthorized intervention."

Hearing this outrageous statement, Charlotte’s eyes twitched. Her fingers curled around the remote, knuckles white, and then,

Click.

She slammed the TV off, nearly denting the remote in her grip. "Stupid. Idiots." She spat.

Mika blinked, sitting up straighter.

"They would’ve let the plane crash right into the city if Mama hadn’t stepped in." She snapped, rising to her feet, pacing now. "She went out of her way to save every single person on that flight. And now they’re blaming her? Like she’s the one who made it worse? What’s wrong with these people?!"

"Don’t bother, sweetheart."

From the kitchen, Yelena’s voice floated over, calm, melodic, yet layered with experience and a touch of quiet amusement.

"That company’s owned by the Federation. If I hadn’t gone to the scene, they’d still have complained. Said something about how a Battle Angel should’ve responded. That we weren’t doing our duty to humanity."

She rolled her eyes.

"And when I do step in, this is what they do. Blame. Accuse. Stir the pot. There’s always some article or headline pointing fingers. There’s no winning with them."

Charlotte scowled but remained quiet, her teeth still clenched.

Yelena shrugged, walking over and gently patting her daughter’s shoulder. "You already know how useless the Federation is. Their only job is to prod us, provoke us, wait for us to react. And the moment we do...we lose."

Charlotte exhaled heavily and nodded. "I know, Mama..."

With that, she dropped onto the sofa beside Mika and leaned in, resting her shoulder gently against his arm. Her warmth, her weight, calming but also seething, like she was using him to anchor herself before she could explode again.

Mika tilted his head toward her slightly. His voice was low, more curious than worried.

"So...things are escalating again? Between you, the Federation, the Hunter’s Association, the royal families and basically every super power in this world?"

He tried to sound casual, but there was weight behind the question to which Yelena walked over quietly and stood behind the couch. Her hand came down gently on Mika’s shoulder.

"You don’t need to worry about that." She said softly, firmly. "It’s not your burden. That’s for us adults to handle."

Her voice was gentle, but unshakable. And as she leaned down slightly, her fingers slipped through his hair, tousling it with a teasing softness.

"What you should be worrying about..." She said, drawing her voice out with playful mischief. "...is what’s for dinner."

Mika turned his head sharply toward her. "Wait, me?"

She smirked. "Yes. You."

"What do you mean, me?" He said, staring at her. "I came here expecting your cooking. You even told me earlier, you were going to feed me something. Said you were waiting for this for a long time. So I was waiting too!"

Yelena hummed and slid down beside him, cuddling into his other side like this was all perfectly natural.

"That was the plan." She admitted. "But I got to thinking...I haven’t had your cooking in ages. Meanwhile, you’ve been sending little lunchboxes to Charlotte every now and then..."

Charlotte giggled. "It’s true. And after that sandwich you made me today, I don’t want Mama’s cooking anymore. I want something proper from you."

Mika blinked at her, mouth parting slightly in disbelief. He then turned back to Yelena, pointing dramatically.

"See? Your daughter’s saying she’s tired of your food! You’re just gonna let that slide?!"

But Yelena only grinned and nuzzled closer.

"I am since honestly I am tired of my own food and I want something new. A change of pace."

"What are you saying, Yelena?...You’re one of the best chefs in the world." He narrowed his eyes. "You’ve got your own cooking show. People around the globe follow your cooking book religiously because your recipes are basically divine. And you’re telling me you’re bored of your food?"

"Even a divine chef gets bored of her own cooking." She laughed, eyes glittering.

Then, with a soft smile and a mischievous glint, she whispered near his ear.

"So make something for me. Right now. Let me taste your love through it, my little chef, Mika."

Hearing this, Mika looked at both of them, Charlotte bouncing on the sofa and Yelena standing with that serene smile like this was all part of some divine plan.

He could see it on their faces, that insistent, delighted expectation, and he let out a long, dramatic sigh as he brought a hand to his forehead.

"I swear, I came here hoping I’d be treated like royalty." He muttered. "I was dreaming of being fed divine meals by someone the world treats like a goddess, lying back and soaking in peace and good food. That’s why I even agreed to come here in the first place."

"But instead..." He pointed a thumb at Yelena, giving her a look. "...I’m the one doing the treating. Cooking for you two like some kind of in-house chef. I don’t feel like a guest at all."

Yelena, unbothered, simply gave a faint chuckle and said warmly. "Of course you’re not a guest. You’re family. And family members have responsibilities. And today, your responsibility is the kitchen."

Mika shot her a dry stare. "Ah, is that so?"

She nodded, all smiles.

"...Fine, fine. I’ll cook." He grumbled, rising to his feet.

Immediately, both Charlotte and Yelena lit up like kids in a candy shop, trailing behind him eagerly.

Charlotte clung to his arm with a beaming grin.

"Yay! I want that creamy mushroom thing you made last time! And garlic potatoes! Ooh, and the sweet grilled peaches with—"

Yelena smoothly added, "I’ll take grilled fish. And make it extra spicy, the way you did that one night."

But as they followed him into the house like excited puppies, Mika suddenly spun around and cut them both off with a raised palm, smirking.

"Hold up." He said firmly. "Just because I agreed to cook doesn’t mean I’m taking requests."

The two of them blinked at him in surprise.

"I’m a man of principle. And schedule. And I don’t go beyond that." He added with exaggerated dignity, folding his arms.

Charlotte frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means." Mika replied. "I plan my meals a day in advance. Always have. And tonight..." He paused for effect. "Tonight is barbecue night."

"Barbecue night?" Yelena raised a brow.

"Yeah." Mika said, as if it was obvious. "I was actually planning on hopping over to another realm, hunting down some rare beasts, bringing them back here, and having a full-blown backyard barbecue."

Yelena stared at him for a second before rolling her eyes and sighing.

"Only you would treat interdimensional travel like a weekend hunting trip. You know even the most seasoned Blessed hesitate before stepping into a rift."

"...You, on the other hand, treat it like a Sunday grocery run. Just pop into another world, bag an exotic creature, and cook it up like it’s nothing..."

"...If others heard what you were doing, they’d faint." She added dryly.

Mika simply shrugged with a grin and continued walking out toward the backyard. The area was vast and beautiful, dotted with lush gardens, marble fountains trickling softly, and benches shaded by flowering trees. It was peaceful, quiet , perfect for what he had in mind.

"That’s why I’m not changing plans." He said over his shoulder. "Barbecue night’s staying barbecue night."

"But...But your house has a Parallel Bridge Generator, Mika." Charlotte blinked, glancing around. "That’s why you can pull that off."

"Technically, those are illegal to privately own, but you somehow still have one. There’s no bridge generator here. So unless you’re hiding one in your pocket, I don’t think hopping dimensions is an option."

Mika gave a small laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said I need a generator to hunt go hunting?"

He tilted his head up toward the sky.

Both girls followed his gaze.

And there it was, a massive bird, black and gold with curved wings that shimmered in the sunlight.

It didn’t belong to this world. It couldn’t. It was too large, too foreign, too...wrong. Its silhouette was smooth and regal, gliding high above like it ruled the heavens themselves.

"You see that beauty?" Mika smirked.

They stared as he licked his lips and cracked his knuckles.

"Well, I’ve already decided I’m going to find how it’s going to taste."