Help! I'm in Another World and the Dragon Man Want Me To Get Pregnant!
Chapter 139: Side Story: Morin in the Republic of Mara (Part 3)

Chapter 139: Side Story: Morin in the Republic of Mara (Part 3)

His sharp golden eyes studied Morin with amusement before curving into a mischievous grin.

"I heard it’s a case of love sickness turned into a study-abroad as a punishment. Ah, it’s good to be young."

Faced with someone so cheerfully teasing and utterly in control, Morin could only shrink into himself in defeat.

After leaving the mansion of the landlord—Naberius, or "Nabe," as he was known—they walked into the human district.

The demon city was clearly divided between the areas for the demons and those for the humans.

Between them stood a gate, much like the one connecting the castle to the Lux Theocracy.

"Is it really necessary to divide everything this strictly?" Morin asked.

"Apparently so," Malvis replied. "The Lux Theocracy holds rare medicinal herbs, longevity fruits, and most importantly, the mother tree of life itself. In the past, there were people who tried to misuse or smuggle those things out. That’s why they strictly monitor everyone who go in and go out."

Morin sighed, thinking how stiff and overly controlled the system felt.

Sure, preventing misuse was important, but closing off everything just made the world feel smaller.

It seemed like such a waste.

Neither the Republic of Mara nor the Lux Theocracy interacted much with others, and that only added to the feeling of isolation.

Before long, they reached the human district.

It was cluttered, lively, full of shops and stacked goods—like a treasure hunt waiting to happen.

Morin’s eyes were lit up with curiosity as he looked around.

Malvis, walking beside him, laughed.

"Don’t laugh at me," Morin said quickly.

"I just thought—you looked like a kid."

"Don’t call me a kid!"

"What’s wrong with it? You’re adorable."

The word adorable made Morin’s heart skip unexpectedly.

He was used to hearing it, yet somehow, coming from Malvis, it felt different—more real, and just a bit embarrassing.

Trying to cover it up, he rushed a few steps ahead and started browsing through storefronts, pretending to be absorbed.

Eventually, he stopped at a sweets shop and bought an armful of treats—candies, cookies, muffins, and more.

Behind him, Malvis was laughing again.

"I told you not to laugh!"

"But—"

"Ugh, you’re stupid!"

Determined to wipe that grin off his face, Morin turned and shoved a freshly bought muffin right into Malvis’s mouth.

Malvis’s violet eyes went wide with surprise for a moment.

But then he chewed, calmly and without complaint, and murmured with a faint, bemused expression, "...It’s good."

Just as he said that, Malvis turned back toward the shop.

Morin blinked his eyes in surprise—he’d just come out, and now he was heading back in?

Curious, Morin waited.

Soon, Malvis returned with his arms full—he’d bought cookies and muffins too.

Morin laughed at the sight.

Malvis was surprisingly amusing—unpredictable, impulsive, and of all things, he had a sweet tooth.

"You can’t call me a kid anymore," Morin said, smirking.

"My bad, they just looked too good," Malvis replied with a sheepish grin.

"You like sweets?"

"Yeah, I do. Demons don’t need to eat to survive, but I guess I inherited my appetite from my mother. I enjoy food."

"Wait—don’t need to eat? How does that even work?!"

Morin genuinely hadn’t known.

He rarely interacted with the demon race and hadn’t really studied their biology.

Malvis gave a small, amused sigh.

"Our magic reserves are very high. If we circulate that energy, it’s enough to keep our bodies functioning. Eating and drinking are more like hobbies for us, it’s pleasurable, but it’s not necessary."

"Huh... that’s kind of boring, honestly."

Morin’s thoughts drifted to his own home.

His mother was a wonderful cook, and the meals he prepared were always something he look forward to.

Even though everyone rarely gathered at the table together anymore, when he was little, those family dinners were moments of pure happiness.

Malvis looked at him and smiled gently, then reached out and pinched Morin’s nose out of the blue.

"Gwah—hey!"

"Come on, let’s get going. That’s how it is here—if you don’t eat while we’re out, or buy your own food, you’re not gonna get much back at the dorm."

"You’re kidding!"

"I’m dead serious."

Malvis walked on ahead, still laughing.

Morin stood there, momentarily stunned, and then he quickly began to plotting his future food survival strategy.

That day, they ended up having a meal in the human district before heading back.

Morin had wanted to buy groceries too, but he figured it would be better to check the kitchen first—buying ingredients without the proper equipment would just be a waste of time and effort.

Back at Nabe’s mansion, Morin inspected the kitchen setup.

It had a decent stove, oven, and storage units, and a fair range of dishes.

But the cooking utensils were severely lacking—no pots, no pans, no ladles, no mixing bowls, no strainers, no whisks.

He’d need to buy everything from scratch.

"You cooking is kind of unexpected," Malvis remarked, watching Morin with an amused expression.

Morin lay sprawled on the couch, too tired to even sit up, shooting only a sideways glance at Malvis.

"What do you mean unexpected?" he asked flatly.

"You just... don’t seem the type who doing anything by yourself."

"How rude."

"My bad," Malvis said with a chuckle.

Morin turned away, hugging a cushion and continuing to laze around.

His mother was an excellent cook, and it was part of what had captivated his father.

As the youngest child with no real duties, Morin had often helped in the kitchen.

His eldest sister, Seraphina, enjoyed baking sweets, but Morin preferred making full meals.

Even if he wasn’t especially useful in other ways, cooking made his family smile.

That alone made it worthwhile.

He didn’t match his mother’s skills, of course, but he firmly believed his cooking could outshine most restaurants.

Suddenly, Malvis reached over and ruffled Morin’s hair gently.

His hand was large and warm—comforting, but slightly irritating, too.

After all, Morin was still sulking.

He was the kind of guy who’d spiraled from his first heartbreak into a sullen mood.