"Did I sleep the whole day?"
Sitting at the dining table, Palmer glanced at the pitch-black night outside the window and rubbed his drowsy eyes vigorously.
"Seems like it, maybe it's a hangover, or perhaps the fatigue after the promotion ceremony..."
Bologue served bread and sausages, piling them haphazardly on the table, making it look quite sumptuous.
After sharing a place, they had to think about eating and drinking. After a brief discussion, Bologue took on the responsibility of cooking. It's not that Bologue knows how to cook, rather he's afraid that with Palmer's luck, the kitchen would explode.
They had just moved in not long ago, and Bologue certainly didn't want to move to a new place so soon.
Bologue seemed organized, but when it came to food, he was always the sort of person who made do, having lived through the madness of 'Scorched Earth Fury,' Bologue was easily satisfied with food—so long as it filled his belly.
