Staying with three beautiful girls, the Squid Monster always seemed out of place.
Naturally, this drew the side-eye of passersby, but Lucia paid absolutely no attention to their strange looks, chattering on and on about recent events as she followed behind the imposter, her demeanor seemingly growing more childlike.
That independent, strong exterior faded slightly in this moment, revealing the innocence of a little girl—an expression she could only ever show when by her brother’s side, regaining, if only a little, her identity as a younger sister.
Yet this was the sister Clara was truly familiar with.
Clara had always thought Lucia had grown up and become sensible, but in truth, she just never had a chance to show this side. After all, Clara was a junior at the company, but never truly her brother.
The dishes arrived.
The Tom Yum Goong seafood and coconut milk twin hotpot was set on the table. The rich coconut aroma wafted over, even making Clara—who normally had no interest in hotpot—salivate with anticipation.
But just as Clara eagerly rummaged through the opaque soup for ingredients, she fished up a segment of… squid flower from the Tom Yum Goong broth.
“Ah?!”
Startled, Clara dropped her chopsticks into the pot. Diners all around turned to look, and even a server rushed over, fearing Clara had found something in the pot that didn’t belong.
Fran, seated beside Clara, hurried to smooth things over.
“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, she just burned herself.”
Only then did the server walk away, glancing back anxiously.
“Clara dear, what happened?”
“Mistook it for something else, thought it was a worm. It’s fine, I don’t really like Tom Yum Goong anyway.”
It was normal to fish up squid flower from a seafood hotpot, but Clara couldn’t admit in front of Lucia that she couldn’t eat squid.
“Worm?”
Lucia, sitting opposite, was half-convinced, half-doubting. She fished the squid flower Clara tossed back into the pot, dipped it in sauce, and popped it into her mouth.
“Clara, you’ve never seen squid flower before?”
“N-no, I haven’t really eaten it much. It looks a bit like a white worm…”
Hearing this, Lucia glanced at her “brother” beside her.
“There aren’t many in the pot. Why don’t Miss Fran and I eat them?”
Knowing her brother also couldn’t eat squid flower, Lucia said this deliberately, then used a spoon to fish out a mushroom from the pot.
“Oh, it’s a mushroom.”
She dropped it into the “imposter’s” bowl.
“Mmgh?!”
The imposter made a strange noise, using a trembling spoon to pick the mushroom out of the bowl. The ring of squid tentacles around their head curled up as if startled.
“Brother, what’s wrong?”
Lucia was curious, but still asked, “You don’t eat mushrooms anymore?”
“It’s nothing, just not used to the taste. I’ll stick to the things from the coconut milk broth.”
After all, Tom Yum Goong was sour and spicy, and it was normal for someone who didn’t like strong salt and spice to dislike it. With that in mind, Lucia had no further doubts.
Yet, Clara, who had been watching the imposter closely, was now suspicious.
The imposter doesn’t eat mushrooms?
It seemed… someone had once told her the same thing.
“Hm? Clara, is there something on my face?”
Noticing Clara’s increasingly sharp gaze, the “imposter” just smiled back.
“Nothing…”
Though she said that, Clara scooped up a few small straw mushrooms from the milky broth with a slotted spoon—ingredients meant to enhance the soup’s flavor—and put them into the imposter’s bowl.
She added, “These aren’t spicy.”
The imposter hesitated again.
If her guess about the imposter’s identity was correct, then he obviously couldn’t accept this—
Just like Clara could never accept squid.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
Yet the imposter chose to stand up and flee.
“Oh, wait, I need to go too!”
Seeing this, Clara hurried after.
The mall restroom… the emergency stairwell nearby.
Hardly anyone ever used this way, nor were there cameras installed in such places.
As a result, whatever happened here, nobody would ever know.
“You’re Director Mostima, aren’t you?”
Clara, certain she’d guessed right, confronted the imposter, who didn’t appear flustered at all.
“And what makes you say that?”
Clara put her hands on her hips, standing on the third step of the stairs so she wouldn’t have to look up at him to speak.
“Because you can’t eat mushrooms! It’s a flaw ingrained in us oddballs’ genes—just like I can’t eat squid!”
“We simply don’t like eating mushrooms.”
Clara stuck one hand in her pocket, striking a pose and pointing at the “imposter.”
“You said ‘we’ just now, didn’t you!!”
At this point, such an unconvincing excuse couldn’t shake Clara’s belief. She pressed on: “You once told me that when your inner selves can’t agree on an answer, you don’t know what you should become, so you maintain that featureless, faceless form…”
That was the little secret Mostima told Clara on the day she resigned, to comfort her.
“In other words, as long as you want to, you can become anyone, right?”
“Hoo—”
The imposter—
No, Mostima—let out a long breath, then dispelled her disguise, reverting to a dark, writhing humanoid form composed of countless fungal colonies, still clad in a suit.
Only now, her height, curves, and build all leaned more toward a feminine shape than before.
Perhaps for that reason, she seemed a little less menacing and uncanny.
Of course, it was also possible Clara had simply gotten used to this wriggling black fungal mass—maybe even found it a bit cute.
“Squill, you win.”
Not just her appearance—even her previously androgynous voice now shifted in a more feminine direction.
With the long-standing secret finally revealed, Clara was able to let go at last.
But seeing Mostima’s appearance, she couldn’t help but ask,
“Um, Director Mostima, your appearance…”
She looked… more feminine now?
Even if she didn’t say it directly, Mostima understood Clara’s meaning.
“This was Dr. Fran’s suggestion. It can reduce the fear I cause in others.”
Mostima only half-lied. In truth, she’d taken on this form to be closer to Clara, and it had worked.
At least, Clara was willing to come down the stairs now.
The loli stood with hands on her hips before her, tilting her head up slightly to ask, “So, that time it was you and President Cheshia teaming up to put on a show for me and Lucia, wasn’t it?”
Mostima nodded meaningfully.
“If Director Mostima was playing me, why didn’t you just tell me?”
Clara truly didn’t understand.
After all, they’d really helped her—why be afraid she’d hold a grudge?
“There were complicated reasons.”
Mostima replied vaguely, then added, “If we don’t go back soon, your sister will start to get suspicious.”
The topic changed.
Could there be some hidden story behind all this?
The secret revealed