"Follow me."
Gyūma flicked his tail and led Kanzaki Rei deeper into the restaurant.
They walked along the staff-only corridor and soon reached a three-way intersection.
The passage on the left was lit by red emergency lights. The one straight ahead was carpeted. The corridor on the right was blocked by two blue curtains.
Rei pricked up his ears.
From behind the curtains came the dull, rhythmic sound of bones being chopped.
"Straight ahead is the servers' break room. To the right is the kitchen's territory. The left is our area," Gyūma reminded him. "Remember that. Don't take the wrong path."
What would happen if he did?
Gyūma didn't say. Rei didn't ask.
After taking a few steps to the left, Rei suddenly turned his head.
Just now, he'd heard a woman scream—sharp, piercing.
He stopped to listen. The screaming continued, but it was growing weaker.
"She's probably not dead yet," a voice said close to his ear. "Want to go save her?"
At some point, the massive bull's head had leaned right up next to his face.
Rei turned back. The shaggy face looked half-amused, half-mocking.
"Do you want me to go?" Rei asked, staring straight into those huge eyes.
"Work gets boring. A little entertainment wouldn't be bad. But—"
Gyūma lifted a surprisingly nimble foreleg, hooked Rei by the shoulder, and physically turned him around.
"Your luck's pretty good. Right now, I actually need a helper."
Rei was shoved forward, the strength behind it impossible to resist.
"In this place," Gyūma said meaningfully, "everyone needs a job."
With that, they left the intersection behind.
The woman's screams faded away, swallowed by the depths beyond the curtains.
"We're here."
A few minutes later, Gyūma released Rei's shoulder.
Ahead of them was a pitch-black passageway. To the right stood an old wooden door.
"That's the delivery exit. This is our break room."
As Gyūma finished speaking, he opened his mouth. His broad tongue curled upward, revealing a key hidden beneath it.
He bit down on the key and tried to line it up with the keyhole.
Clearly, this was… difficult.
"Want some help?" Rei couldn't watch anymore.
"Oh. Then you do it."
Gyūma opened his mouth wide. Foul-smelling saliva dripped down along the key.
Rei took it without changing expression and slid it into the lock.
Creeeak.
The door opened.
"Oh, not bad. You really are somewhat useful," Gyūma praised.
Then he turned his head toward his own back.
A long, slender hand was stroking through his fur.
"What are you doing?" Gyūma forced his face into something like a frown.
"Wiping my hands," Rei said calmly.
"I know that. What I'm asking is—why are you wiping them on me?"
Gyūma's breathing grew heavier.
"I never take advantage of others. That saliva wasn't mine, so I don't want it."
He said it with utter seriousness.
Gyūma's nostrils flared wide. A vicious glint flashed in his bell-sized eyes.
Rei simply looked back at him—no fear, no provocation.
After a long moment, Gyūma snorted.
"Human. You've got too many little tricks."
He knew it.
This human was testing his bottom line.
"Being a bit smarter just means dying a bit slower, right?" Rei replied. "You wouldn't want to replace your partner too soon, would you?"
"That's true. If they were all idiots like the previous ones, I'd have been dragged down with them sooner or later. Still—being too smart will get you killed as well," Gyūma huffed.
"Then I'll have to rely on Big Boss Gyūma to guide me," Rei said, flashing a bright smile.
"And why would I do that?" Gyūma squinted at him sideways.
"Because—"
Rei almost said because you need my help, but repeating that would definitely trigger Gyūma's defiance.
He glanced at the bulging muscles, the raised spine along Gyūma's back, and suddenly had an idea.
"Boss… want a massage?"
"…Huh?"
A massive question mark practically popped up over Gyūma's head.
Ten minutes later, inside the delivery staff break room.
"Yes—yes—right there. Harder. That spot really needs it."
Gyūma lay sprawled on the floor, a blissful smile spread across his face.
"Relax. I'll sort you out properly," Rei said as his hands moved steadily over Gyūma's back.
"Boss, your spinal deformation is pretty serious," he commented.
"Ha! I carry so many deliveries every day—of course it's bent. I'm not like you humans, able to carry things with my hands," Gyūma complained.
"Why not hang them on your horns?" Rei asked curiously.
"No way! What if they get damaged? For us ox-horses, our horns are more important than your human faces."
Gyūma shook his massive head vigorously.
"Fair enough."
Rei didn't pursue it further.
This world looked almost the same as the real one—but the sign at the entrance, and that woman's screams, were constant reminders that it wasn't.
If he kept asking questions, he'd probably lose more sanity.
"Alright. Get up and move around a bit," Rei said twenty minutes later, giving Gyūma's rear a firm pat.
"That's it already? Keep going a bit longer," Gyūma protested as he reluctantly pushed himself up.
He trotted around the break room twice, excitement lighting up his big face.
"Kid, you really know your stuff," Gyūma said, lifting a hoof in praise.
"Just a small trick. Nothing worth mentioning," Rei replied modestly.
Back then, he'd trained for a while with a martial artist who practiced Bajiquan.
The man's combat skills were mediocre, but his bone-setting and massage techniques were a family specialty.
When Rei realized he wasn't learning much martial arts, he paid extra and learned the massage techniques instead.
"Alright. I won't let you work for free. Sit down—I'll explain the job."
Rei looked around. There wasn't anywhere to sit.
"Humans are such a hassle. Wait."
Gyūma spat out another key, opened a storage locker, and rummaged around until he pulled out a small folding stool.
"Here. Sit. This was used by my… uh… previous previous previous partner."
"…And where is he now?" Rei asked casually as he unfolded the stool.
"In the kitchen."
"As a chef?"
"As an ingredient."
"…Right."
Rei shrugged. Unexpected, but also perfectly logical.
"Have you ever done delivery work before?" Gyūma asked.
"No," Rei answered after a moment's thought.
"Then I'll walk you through the process."
Gyūma didn't question it and continued.
"See that hole?"
He gestured upward.
Rei followed his gaze. Beneath the wooden door was a rectangular opening, blocked by a movable wooden panel.
"I see it."
"When there's an order, someone will slide the ticket through that hole. Wait about thirty seconds before going out. Then take the food from the delivery cart and deliver it according to the information on the ticket. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Good. That locker's yours. All your gear's inside."
Rei checked the open locker.
Inside was a set of work clothes, a phone, and a map.
The phone was an old-fashioned flip phone, completely empty—no contacts saved.
"Memorize my number," Gyūma said, rattling off a string of digits.
Rei repeated it as he saved it into the phone.
"Don't save it."
Gyūma stopped him.
"Why?"
"This is the first rule I'm telling you."
Gyūma's deep voice echoed through the break room.
"Do not save any numbers on the phone."