“So Kalbi,” Carl said, one hand on the steering wheel of the capsule car as we cruised down the smoothly paved road leading into the city, “how old are you, exactly?”

  I leaned back in the comfy rear seat and put on my most dramatic, old-man-from-anime voice.

  “Well, brother from the North,” I intoned, gesturing at the window like I’d just finished surviving a long war, “I believe I have seen… five winters.”

  Carl snorted, stifling a ugh. “So five. Got it.”

  “Technically, yes. But I age with dignity.”

  He gnced at me in the rear-view mirror, that dry little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know how to read or write, oh child of many winters?”

  I shrugged. “Depends on the nguage we’re speaking.”

  “...That’s not a yes.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

  I pointed a thumb at the woman riding shotgun beside him—who was busy picking something out of her teeth with a wooden toothpick that looked suspiciously like a broken sparring stick. “Granny said if I can talk, that’s enough for ‘nguage arts.’”

  Carl’s left eye twitched. Just a little. Like a man suffering a mild electric shock of pure logic failure.

  “And you believed that?”

  “Brother, I was raised in a forest where the alphabet was ‘left hook, right hook, sweep the leg.’ What was I gonna do, enroll myself in online csses?”

  Granny gave a hearty chuckle. “Kid’s got a mouth like a smartass and the fists of a mini bear. What more do you want?”

  Carl sighed, rubbing his temple. “You know, just once I’d like to meet someone from this family who doesn’t actively scare me.”

  I folded my arms behind my head and leaned back. “My turn. What do you do for a living, brother Carl?”

  He brightened a little at that. “Engineer. I work for Capsule Corp’s regional tech division.”

  I blinked. Sat up a bit straighter.

  “Wait—you make stuff like this car?” I tapped the window excitedly. “Like, actually make?”

  “Technically, yes,” he said with a little smile. “I helped design the chassis, modur gravity stabilizers, and a few conversion cores for the capsule-to-car sequence. Basic stuff.”

  I nodded solemnly, like a tiny, bald monk. “You are the chosen one, Brother Carl.”

  Then I squinted at him, remembering something from earlier.

  “Who’s this Sasha you mentioned to Granny before? Another tech wizard? Capsule Corp secret agent? Gactic princess?”

  He chuckled and pulled a thin, leather wallet from his inner coat pocket. Opened it. Inside was a neatly kept photo, protected by pstic—three people. Carl, a slightly younger-looking Granny (still somehow terrifying), and a woman.

  Long dark hair. Sharp eyes. That kind of elegance you only see in women who could both run a company and kill a man with a paperclip.

  “She’s my wife.”

  I whistled. “Well damn, you got yourself a beauty, brother.”

  He smirked and looked a little proud. I leaned closer with a conspiratorial grin.

  “So who approached who first? You or her?”

  That was the moment the punch nded on my skull like a sledgehammer of righteousness.

  I yelped and looked up, rubbing the spot where a new mountain was forming.

  “Granny!”

  She gred at me, cracking her knuckles. “That’s not how you talk to adults, vegetable boy.”

  “Yeah yeah…” I muttered. “You know, hitting kids on the head might stop their brain from developing fully.”

  She leaned down and grinned. “You already got a big enough mouth, so I don’t think your brain’s doing much of the work anyway.”

  Carl ughed so hard he nearly swerved the car.

  And then—grrrrrrrggghhhhhh.

  My stomach.

  It groaned like a dying mammoth. Loud. Long. Echoing in the tiny car cabin like a foghorn from hell.

  “I haven’t eaten anything all day,” I muttered, clutching my stomach like a tragic anime protagonist.

  Carl wiped a tear from his eye and said, “Just a few more minutes. We’re almost home. Sasha probably already has lunch ready.”

  Granny grinned from the passenger seat. “Say good luck to Sasha from me, Carl.”

  He blinked. “Huh? Why?”

  We entered the city, the towering buildings slowly rising around us like sleeping titans of gss and steel. Compared to the forest I’d been raised in, this was a miracle. Smooth roads. Billboards. Hovering capsule drones. People walking around with devices glowing in their hands. Cars floated above traffic nes. Shops with blinking neon signs. It was everything I had dreamed of as a kid back on Earth.

  ‘Finally. Civilization. Hot meals. Running water. No more bugs crawling into my shoes.’

  I pressed my face to the window. “I am ready for this life. Let me bathe in hot water and order noodles with a touchscreen.”

  Carl chuckled. “Hang on. We’re here.”

  He pulled up to a cozy two-story building nestled between a bakery and a capsule appliance shop. White-walled, red-roofed, and distinctly Japanese in design, it had a wooden sign over the door that read: Roux Dojo. The lower level was a polished martial arts school; the upper level was the family home.

  “Looks like home,” Carl said with a smile.

  The car clicked off.

  Then, with practiced ease, Carl pressed the capsule button.

  Click—WHIRRR—PCHING!

  The vehicle folded in on itself like origami in reverse, each part snapping back into the capsule core with mechanical grace. In under two seconds, a puff of gentle smoke left only a tiny silver capsule in Carl’s palm.

  I cpped. “That was so much cooler than the anime made it look.”

  Granny rolled her eyes. “Toys.”

  Carl pocketed the capsule. “Let’s go meet the boss.”

  The moment the front door opened, the aroma hit us like a heavenly truck. Rice. Roasted vegetables. Soup stock simmering with something savory. I nearly fell over.

  Carl stepped in and called out, “I’m home!”

  Footsteps padded down the hall. And then—she appeared.

  Medium height. Long hair tied back in a practical ponytail. Apron tied over business-casual clothes. Her expression softened the second she saw Carl—but then shifted into alert confusion when she noticed me.

  “Carl,” she said, voice smooth but edged. “You brought… guests.”

  Granny walked in like she owned the pce. “Sasha. Good to see you haven’t gone soft living in the city.”

  Sasha blinked. “Hi, Hima… and…”

  I stepped forward with the biggest grin I could muster.

  “You look even more beautiful in real life, sister!”

  She blinked again. “Sister?”

  “Name’s Kalbi.”

  She paused. Then gave a polite, confused smile. “Uh… thank you?”

  Carl cleared his throat. “Sasha, this is… Kalbi. Mom found him in the forest. Apparently, he was abandoned as a baby.”

  Sasha’s smile disappeared. She looked at me, startled, then at Granny.

  “That’s awful. Is he okay?”

  Granny snorted. “He’s too much of an idiot to be traumatized. You should see how he eats.”

  Grrrrrgle. Right on cue.

  All three turned to me.

  I was clutching my stomach like a man in his final hour.

  “I haven’t eaten in years. Feed me or I will eat the floor.”

  They all chuckled, and Sasha moved toward the kitchen.

  “I’ll bring lunch.”

  And when I say “lunch,” I mean feast.

  Bowls of hot rice. Sliced tofu. Miso soup with seaweed. Stir-fried vegetables, savory dumplings, grilled fish, and a ptter of pickled side dishes that made my eyes water with joy.

  I inhaled it.

  No utensils. No grace. No strategy. Just unholy consumption. Carl and Sasha watched me in stunned horror as I devoured bowl after bowl, alternating soup and rice like a machine.

  Ten bowls in, Carl leaned toward Sasha and whispered, “Is this normal?”

  She whispered back, “Does he even chew?”

  Meanwhile, Granny calmly ate her food beside me with quiet efficiency, not even blinking.

  “What?” she said. “Kid’s got good metabolism.”

  I wiped my mouth with a sleeve and slumped back, stuffed and blissful.

  “Best. Meal. Of. My. Life.”

  Carl muttered, “We’re gonna need a second fridge.”

  Sasha nodded solemnly. “And a bigger rice cooker.”

  I burped and gave them a thumbs-up. “Welcome to the family.”