NIKKE: The Apocalypse Arrives, But the System is 100 Years Late

After the events of the previous night, Ludmilla displayed neither the shyness of a young girl nor the awkward hesitation of uncertainty. Instead, she carried herself with poise, confidently revealing her flawless figure.

Her golden hair cascaded gently down her back, framing a face as delicate as sculpted crystal. Her elegant demeanor flowed like a pristine spring, and every movement radiated the noble grace and sophistication unique to aristocrats.

However, Mo Chen's gaze landed on the stovetop, where a frying pan held a chaotic, blackened mess. He stared, baffled.

"What... is this?"

Even Ludmilla, with all her composure, couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment. She quickly turned around, trying to use her body to block the disaster on the stovetop.

"It'll be ready soon. Just wait a little longer, and I'll call you when it's done."

Even Snow White would have doubted such reassurance.

"Let me handle it."

Mo Chen smiled gently, taking the utensils from her hands.

"You haven't cooked much before, have you?"

One look was enough to recognize a novice.

If she kept going, the entire kitchen might be at risk of burning down.

Ludmilla replied, "I did a little before I became a Nikke. But after that, I couldn't anymore."

Following the devastation on the surface, cooking became an unattainable luxury. There was no food left to prepare.

Stepping aside without protest, she watched as Mo Chen skillfully cleaned the pan and reset the workspace. A warm, sweet smile graced her lips, and an unfamiliar sense of comfort blossomed in her heart.

Ever since becoming a Nikke, she had suppressed any thoughts of such simple joys. To say she felt no regret would be a lie.

Wrapping her arms around his sturdy waist from behind, she rested her cheek against his back, basking in the rare moment of peace. After their bond deepened the night before, the closeness between them now felt natural.

"I'm cooking here—don't distract me."

Mo Chen expertly diced the meat into cubes, chopped the vegetables into segments, and laid out ginger, scallions, and star anise. He set everything in place before moving to stir-fry.

Most of the ingredients, except for the meat and vegetables, came from his exchange inventory rather than the ecological farm. He made a mental note to expand the farm's capacity in the future.

Ludmilla, savoring the sweetness of the moment, didn't relent so easily. Hugging him tightly, she stood on her toes and leaned in, seeking a kiss.

"Commander…"

Her voice was soft and drawn out, laced with undeniable allure.

Mo Chen's heart skipped a beat. Turning his head, he met her waiting lips. A soft, warm sensation spread instantly through him.

Ludmilla, with her striking figure, made even a loose shirt seem tight. The fabric stretched tautly, the buttons strained under the pressure. Her curves pressed close, leaving little to the imagination. 

She had one of the most striking figures he had ever seen; the shirt's thin, breathable material only served to accentuate the lines beneath.

The oversized shirt originally meant for a man clung to Ludmilla's figure, teasingly revealing and concealing her curves beneath the fabric. Somehow, this left her looking even more alluring than if she weren't wearing anything at all.

The two of them, having experienced intimacy, naturally found it hard to resist rekindling the flames. It was like dry tinder meeting a spark—inevitable and consuming.

It was unclear how much time had passed when Mo Chen suddenly sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something burning. Alarmed, he turned to find the food on the stovetop completely charred.

He sighed in exasperation, while Ludmilla covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. She looked particularly pleased with herself, as if taking revenge for his earlier teasing about her cooking.

What was supposed to be breakfast ended up becoming lunch after all their distractions.

After finally finishing cooking, he placed the dishes on the table while she helped set everything up. He went to wake Alice, who was still sleeping, while Snow White, true to her usual alertness, had already awakened during the cooking process.

"Commander, last night I had a dream about you and the Queen!" Alice exclaimed as they gathered around the table.

Snow White was already devouring her food, while Alice enthusiastically shared her dream. Mo Chen, casually picking up vegetables with his chopsticks, asked absentmindedly, "What did you dream about?"

"I dreamed the two of you were hugging!"

Clatter.

Mo Chen's chopsticks fell to the floor. He looked up in surprise. "Hugging? What else did you dream about?"

Could she have seen something?

Alice blinked her wide, innocent eyes and replied, "You and the Queen! It looked like you were wrestling or something. You both seemed really happy."

"Wrestling?" Mo Chen froze.

"Yeah!" Alice pouted, puffing out her cheeks. "I called out to you both, but neither of you answered me. You didn't even invite me to wrestle with you!"

Saying this, Alice looked genuinely upset. Mo Chen, on the other hand, felt as though lightning had struck him.

Surely, she couldn't have actually seen anything... right?

Ludmilla, sitting nearby, was visibly tense, but she forced herself to stay calm. "Dreams aren't always real, Alice," she said gently. "And besides, you're our most precious little one. Of course, we'd include you in everything!"

"That's true!" Alice nodded happily, her earlier sulkiness giving way to her usual bright smile. "Hehe, then, my Queen, if you and Rabbity wrestle again, you have to include me, okay?"

Ludmilla, still feeling flustered, could only awkwardly respond, "Well, that depends on how well-behaved you are, Alice."

"I'm very well-behaved!" Alice declared with conviction.

"Good girl. Now, make sure to eat well. You need to eat to grow strong, understand?" Ludmilla patted Alice's head with a warm smile, though inwardly she sighed in relief. Thankfully, she truly didn't understand anything.

"Yes, my Queen!" Alice replied earnestly before grabbing a piece of bread and stuffing it into her mouth until her cheeks were puffed out.

"Good girl," Ludmilla said with a smile, visibly relaxing.

Mo Chen also let out a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to pick up his chopsticks and dig in, he froze. To his shock, the dishes on the table were completely empty—scraped clean with not even a crumb left behind.

It was as if they had been subjected to some extreme "clean plate campaign." Even the scraps had vanished.

Snow White leaned back in her chair, patting her now-round stomach, letting out a contented belch. A few stray grains of rice clung to the corner of her mouth.

The culprit was obvious.

Mo Chen stared at her, utterly speechless.

Snow White turned her expectant gaze toward him. "Is there more?"

"Do you think there's more? All that's left is the burnt stuff. Do you want it?" he asked dryly.

To his surprise, Snow White's eyes lit up.

"Burnt is fine too."

Snow White, as usual, was unbothered and entirely not-picky about her food.

Mo Chen: "..."

Of course, he couldn't actually let her eat burnt food.

With a resigned sigh, he returned to the kitchen and started cooking all over again.

After preparing a fresh batch of food, he noticed that Snow White was nowhere to be seen. Searching for her, he found her back in the room.

It was hard to say whether she was simply stuffed or still unwell, but after eating, she had promptly retreated to bed.

She lay flat on her back like a motionless doll, her small belly visibly round and protruding after her meal. She mumbled incoherently in her sleep, her words too faint to make out.

Turning onto her side, she seemed uncomfortable with the way her full stomach pressed against the mattress. Groaning slightly, she shifted back to her original position, trying to find relief.