I didn't remember falling asleep on the couch, and that was the first thing I realized when I woke up.
The second was that I couldn't move properly because something warm, small, and very much alive was sitting on my stomach like it had officially claimed ownership.
I opened my eyes slowly and immediately found Hikari staring directly at me from an uncomfortably close distance.
"Good morning, Papa!" she said brightly. "Hikari demands food!"
I stared at her, then turned my head slightly to check the time. Seven in the morning. Of course it was.
"…You demand a lot for someone who doesn't pay rent," I muttered.
"Hikari pays with cuteness," she replied confidently.
"…That is not a recognized currency," I said, pushing myself up slightly.
Hikari adjusted immediately, clinging to me more comfortably like this was part of her daily routine. I let out a slow breath, trying to gather what little energy I had left.
"Alright," I said, voice still heavy with sleep. "Let's check what we have to—"
I stopped.
Something smelled burnt.
Not slightly burnt. Not overcooked. Burnt.
I turned my head toward the kitchen, already knowing what I was about to see.
"…No," I said quietly, standing up.
Hikari stayed attached, which at this point was expected.
When I stepped into the kitchen, the situation was exactly as bad as I expected. Karin stood in front of the stove, happily breathing fire onto what used to be meat, while Ruri stood beside her trying—unsuccessfully—to intervene.
"Karin, that's too much!" Ruri said, clearly worried. "It's already cooked!"
"But it's not cooked enough!" Karin argued, increasing the flames slightly.
"It's black!"
"That means it's working!"
I stood there for a second, letting the scene register before walking forward and picking Karin up mid-action. "Stop," I said.
She stopped immediately and looked at me, then at the pan, then back at me again—no hint of guilt on her face.
I turned off the stove and looked at what remained of the meat. It was no longer food—it was a concept. I threw it away and looked back at her. "Why?" I asked.
Karin tilted her head. "We are hungry."
I paused, then nodded slowly. "…Fair."
"Hikari thinks it looked crispy," Hikari added from my shoulder.
"It was not edible."
"That's unfortunate."
"Yes. Very."
I glanced at Ruri, who seemed relieved the situation had been resolved. "Sorry," she said quietly. "I tried to stop her."
"You did," I replied. "You just underestimated how committed she is to bad decisions."
"I heard that!" Karin said.
"That was intentional."
I exhaled and shifted my focus. "Alright. New plan. We're going out. You guys need to get ready."
They all looked at me, then tilted their heads at the same time.
I rubbed my face. "…Right. You were born yesterday."
"That's true," Ruri said.
"Not helping."
I gathered the three of them and led them to the bathroom. The next part took longer than expected, mostly because teaching basic hygiene to three dragon children required patience I wasn't sure I had.
"No, you don't eat the toothbrush," I said, pulling it away from Karin.
"It smells nice," she argued.
"That's not the point. Then why does it smell good?" she added.
"…Marketing," I replied.
She accepted that surprisingly easily.
Ruri followed instructions carefully, copying everything I did with surprising accuracy. "Like this?" she asked.
"Yes. Exactly like that."
Hikari, on the other hand, treated the entire process like commentary. "Hikari is brushing. Papa is brushing. Everyone is brushing. This is fun."
"Less talking, more brushing," I said.
"Hikari is brushing while talking."
"That is not how brushing works."
Bathing came next, which introduced a new set of problems.
"Why is the water warm?" Karin asked.
"Because that's how it's supposed to be."
"Can it be hotter?"
"No."
"Colder?"
"No."
"This is restrictive."
"This is normal."
By the time we finished—bathing, drying, dressing—they were clean, presentable, and temporarily less chaotic. I checked my phone: less than fifteen thousand points left.
I stared at the number for a moment, then sighed. "…No fancy meals."
"What's a fancy meal?" Karin asked.
"Something we are not having."
"Oh."
I looked at them again. "Do you promise to behave—" I stopped midway and shook my head. "Never mind. That's pointless."
"That's fair," Karin said.
We stepped outside. Hikari immediately climbed onto me, Karin grabbed my hand, and Ruri held Karin's other hand—formation, again.
"Look! It's outside again!" Karin said.
"Yes," I replied. "It remains outside."
Ruri tightened her grip slightly. "Stay close."
"I am close."
"You weren't earlier."
"That was earlier."
I chose not to get involved.
We reached the convenience store and stepped inside. I grabbed a cart and headed straight for essentials. "First priority—food that doesn't involve fire breath."
"Boring," Karin said.
"Safe," I corrected.
Rice went in first, followed by meat, then eggs—normal eggs, which felt like an important distinction—and finally vegetables. Basic, affordable, manageable.
Behind me, Karin had started adding random items into the cart. I looked down. "No."
"But it looked cool," she argued, already reaching for something else.
"That's not how this works."
I removed the item; she added another, and I removed that too. The silent back-and-forth continued for several seconds, becoming far too familiar far too quickly.
Then I noticed something new.
A very large, very sharp-looking object had appeared in the cart.
I stared at it. "…Where did you get that?"
Karin pointed behind us. I turned and found a man—clearly an awakener—a few steps away, patting his side with a confused expression. His weapon rack was… missing one item.
I looked back at Karin. "You cannot just take someone else's weapon."
"But it looked useful."
"That is not the criteria."
I took the weapon out of the cart and walked over, handing it back. "…You dropped this."
He blinked, then took it. "Ah—thanks?"
"You're welcome."
I returned to the cart. Karin was watching me expectantly.
"No," I said preemptively.
"…Okay," she replied, unconvinced.
Everything she added after that was quietly removed.
Ruri pointed at an item. "What is this?"
"Vegetable."
"What does it do?"
"You eat it."
"Why?"
"…Health."
She nodded, satisfied with that answer.
Hikari continued her running commentary as we moved along. "Hikari sees food. Papa sees food. Everyone sees food."
"That is correct," I said.
Eventually, we finished and headed to the counter. I paid again, feeling the quiet sting of another expense before carrying everything out.
As we walked back toward the apartment, I adjusted my grip on the bags and glanced down at the three of them—still here, still chaotic, and still very much my responsibility.
I exhaled slowly. "…Let's go home."
"Home!" Hikari repeated happily.
"Home means food?" Karin asked, looking up at me.
"Yes."
She nodded immediately. "Then home is good."
"…That logic works," I admitted.
And just like that, day two began.
***
By the time we got back to the apartment, I had already reached a very simple and very important conclusion: if I didn't start cooking properly, I was going to go bankrupt before the week even ended.
That thought alone was enough motivation to push past whatever exhaustion I was feeling.
I set the groceries down on the counter and rolled my shoulders slightly, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue.
The day hadn't even fully started yet, and I was already dealing with more responsibilities than I had signed up for in my entire life plan. Still, reality had a way of ignoring personal preferences.
I glanced at the three of them. Karin was already rummaging through the grocery bags like she expected food to magically assemble itself, Ruri stood beside her observing carefully without interfering, and Hikari—of course—was still clinging to me like I was part of her daily equipment.
"Alright," I said, shifting Hikari slightly so I could move more freely. "Kitchen rules. You sit, you watch, and you don't touch anything unless I say so."
Karin blinked. "Even if it looks interesting?"
"Yes."
"Even if it looks really interesting?"
"Yes."
She considered that. "…That's a difficult rule."
"It's a necessary rule."
Ruri nodded immediately. "Understood."
Hikari tightened her hold slightly. "Hikari will watch Papa cook."
"That's the idea," I replied.
I pulled out three stools and positioned them near the counter. "Sit here," I added, gesturing.
They followed instructions surprisingly well, which immediately made me suspicious. I decided not to question it. Small victories mattered.
I turned toward the counter, grabbed an apron, and tied it around my waist. The motion felt familiar—grounding in a way I hadn't expected. It had been a while since I cooked properly, but the habit hadn't faded.
"First," I said, pulling out the vegetables, "we do things the normal way."
Karin raised her hand. "What is normal?"
"The way that doesn't involve setting anything on fire breaths."
She nodded seriously. "That makes sense."
I wasn't convinced she would remember that.
I began preparing the vegetables, washing them before placing them on the cutting board. The steady rhythm of chopping cabbage and carrots created a quiet, controlled atmosphere—something I hadn't experienced since this whole situation started.
Behind me, I could feel their attention—focused, curious, and just a little too intense for something as simple as cooking.
"Papa is fast," Hikari said.
"I'm cutting vegetables," I replied, not looking back. "It's not that impressive."
Ruri leaned forward slightly, studying the cutting board. "It is impressive. The pieces are all the same size."
"That's just practice," I said.
Karin tilted her head, watching my hands closely. "Can I try?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I would like to keep all ten of your fingers intact."
She looked down at her hands, flexed her fingers once as if confirming they were still there, then nodded. "That's fair."
Once the vegetables were ready, I cracked several eggs into a bowl and began whisking them, the motion steady and automatic.
Karin leaned forward again, clearly not done asking questions. "What's that?"
"Eggs."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Normal eggs?"
"Yes. Normal eggs."
She visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping a little. "…Good."
I paused for a brief second, then shook my head lightly. "…I'm starting to understand why that question matters."
I poured the eggs into the pan, added the vegetables, and let the omelet cook. The smell spread quickly through the kitchen, already leagues better than what Karin had produced earlier.
"Hikari likes this smell," Hikari said.
"That's because it's edible," I replied.
"That is important?"
"Yes. Very."
I moved on to the rice, setting it up properly without shortcuts. If I was going to maintain any kind of routine, I needed to do things right.
Finally, I prepared the pork.
"Tonkatsu," I said.
"What is tonkatsu?" Karin asked immediately.
"Food you're about to appreciate."
She nodded without hesitation. "I already appreciate it."
I coated the meat carefully and placed it into hot oil. The moment it started frying, the sound filled the kitchen—sharp, steady, satisfying.
All three of them leaned forward at the same time.
"Whoa…" Karin whispered, eyes lighting up.
Ruri's gaze followed every movement with quiet focus, like she was trying to memorize the process.
Hikari nodded enthusiastically. "Hikari likes that sound."
"It means it's cooking properly," I said.
Karin looked genuinely impressed. "So this is the normal way?"
"Yes."
She watched for another second before nodding decisively. "…It's cooler than fire."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'll take that as progress.""
Once the tonkatsu reached the right color, I set it aside and moved to the cabbage, slicing it into thin strips before stir-frying it with seasoning and soy sauce. Simple, efficient, and more than enough to complete the meal.
"Papa is doing many things," Hikari observed.
"That's called multitasking."
"Hikari will learn that."
"…Eventually."
Then I prepared the sauce. Because if I was going to do this, I might as well do it properly.
When everything was done, I stepped back and looked at the result. Rice, omelet, tonkatsu, vegetables—balanced, affordable, and actually decent.
I turned toward them. "Well?"
Karin immediately clapped. "That looks amazing!"
Ruri nodded. "It smells very good."
Hikari raised both hands. "Hikari is ready to eat!"
I allowed myself a small smile before plating the food and bringing it to the table.
"Alright," I said, setting everything down. "Eat properly."
Karin didn't wait. She leaned forward immediately and took a bite.
"Slow down," I said.
"I am slow," she replied with a full mouth.
"You are not."
Hikari started talking again while eating. "Papa's food is good. Hikari likes this. Papa should always cook."
"Chew first."
"Hikari is chewing."
She was still talking.
Ruri ate more properly, but there was a visible sparkle in her eyes. "This is very good, Papa." she said.
"Thank you."
I leaned back slightly and watched them.
This wasn't what I had planned for my life.
But it wasn't unbearable.
Different.
Complicated.
Expensive.
But manageable.
At least for now.
After they finished, I cleaned the dishes while they moved to the living room. The sound of running water filled the kitchen again, steady and repetitive, giving me time to think.
When I finished and stepped out, they were already on the couch watching anime. Of course they were.
I sat down and checked my phone. 2,752 points.
I stared at the number a little longer than necessary before exhaling slowly. "That's not low," I muttered. "That's critical."
Karin glanced at me from the couch. "What's critical, Papa?"
"My situation."
She nodded like she understood.
She didn't.
I leaned back and ran a hand through my hair, thinking through my options. If I didn't earn something soon, everything would fall apart, which meant going back to dungeon runs—and that created another problem entirely.
I looked at them. "Can you stay here alone?" I asked.
They all looked at me, then at each other, then back at me.
"No," Karin said confidently.
"…I appreciate the honesty," I muttered.
I tapped my watch and called Ruruka. She answered immediately. "Nii-sama. What is it?"
There were loud sounds in the background—metal clashing, something breaking.
"…Where are you?"
"In a dungeon. Boss fight," she replied casually.
I closed my eyes briefly. "I wanted to ask for help, but that seems poorly timed."
"It is," she admitted. "C-rank dungeon. Boss respawned."
"I see. Then focus on that."
"You too," she replied before ending the call.
I lowered my hand and looked back at the girls, who were still completely absorbed in the anime, as if none of this had anything to do with them.
I exhaled slowly. "…Guess I don't have a choice."
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling, thinking through the situation again. Bringing them into a dungeon sounded like a terrible idea—dangerous, irresponsible, and likely to create even more problems. And yet… it was also the only viable option.
Low-rank dungeon. Controlled environment. Minimal risk. Manageable enemies.
I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again. "They just have to behave," I muttered, though even I didn't sound convinced.
I looked at them once more—Karin pointing excitedly at the screen, Ruri watching quietly, and Hikari talking nonstop like she was narrating the entire episode.
I sighed.
"…This is going to go very badly."
And yet, despite everything, I was already planning it.
*****
End of Chapter 7
RETIREMENT STATUS REPORT
Owner: Ren Arclight
Former Occupation: Demon King Slayer / World-Saving Archmage
Current Occupation: Financially Collapsing Caretaker
Peaceful Life Goal:
Watch anime, eat snacks, and avoid all forms of labor, responsibility, and danger.
New Developments:
*Karin capable of independent cooking (highly dangerous)}
*Ruri continues to demonstrate reliability
*Hikari now requires morning food immediately upon waking
*All three exhibit stable attachment and zero independence
*Food consumption rate remains unsustainable
Financial Status:
Remaining Funds: 2,752 points
Status: Critical
Projected Survival Time: Very Short
Peaceful Retirement Stability:
100% Before Doorbell
0% Dragons Hatched
–300% First "Papa"
–9000% Household Established
–15000% Daily Expenses Realized
–30000% Current Funds Checked
Current Retirement Status:
Deficit
Immediate Problems:
*Insufficient funds for continued survival
*No available caretaker support
*Children cannot be left unsupervised
*Cooking skills required daily
Next Action:
Return to dungeon work
Risk Level:
Increasing
Emotional Status:
Fatigue - Resignation - Strategic Despair
Future Outlook:
Dangerous
Archmage Personal Statement:
"I need money."
Reality's Response:
"You need a job."