By the time I got back to the table, the food had already been served, and I had already accepted two things.
First, this was not going to be a quiet meal.
Second, whatever dignity I had left as a normal civilian was about to be publicly tested… and likely destroyed.
I sat down across from the three of them and took a moment to observe the battlefield. Rice bowls, tempura, and onigiri were arranged neatly on the table, still warm, still presentable—still innocent.
That would not last.
The girls, however, weren't eating.
They were staring.
Three pairs of eyes locked onto the food with an intensity I usually only saw from monsters evaluating prey. It wasn't hunger in the normal sense. It was… fascination.
I blinked.
"Aren't you guys hungry?" I asked.
All three of them nodded immediately.
"Then why aren't you eating?" I followed up, already suspicious.
Karin tilted her head, clearly thinking through the problem like it was a puzzle. Then, without hesitation, she reached forward and tried to grab the food with her bare hands.
My body moved before my brain finished processing.
I caught her wrist mid-motion.
"No," I said.
She blinked up at me. "Why?"
"Because we don't do that here," I replied, already reaching for the chopsticks. "We use these."
I handed each of them a pair.
They looked at the chopsticks.
Then at me.
Then back at the chopsticks.
I could already tell.
This was going to be a problem.
"Watch," I said, forcing patience into my voice as I picked up my own pair. "You hold them like this, then you grab the food like this."
I demonstrated slowly, picking up a piece of tempura with practiced ease.
All three of them tried to copy me.
And immediately failed.
Ruri held the chopsticks carefully, trying to mirror my fingers exactly, but her grip was stiff and overly precise, like she was afraid of doing it wrong. Karin treated them like weapons, poking at the food with reckless enthusiasm. Hikari stared at them for a long moment, then looked back at me with quiet suspicion.
"Papa," she said, "why is food difficult?"
"That," I replied, "is an excellent question."
After about ten seconds of watching this unfold, I exhaled slowly.
"…Right," I muttered. "You were born today."
That explained everything.
I stood up and walked over to one of the staff members.
"Excuse me," I said. "Do you have spoons?"
They handed me a few without question, probably already aware of what was happening at my table.
"Thanks," I added before returning.
I handed one spoon to each of them.
"This," I said, "is easier."
That worked.
Immediately.
They started eating.
And just like that… the real problem began.
Karin did not stay in her seat.
Not even for five seconds.
She took a bite, stood up, sat down again, leaned forward, twisted around to look at something behind her, then reached for a different plate like it belonged to her. Her attention shifted every two seconds, completely unable to settle.
"Karin," I said, keeping my tone calm through sheer discipline, "sit."
She sat.
For about three seconds.
Then she stood up again like the concept had only been a temporary suggestion.
"If curiosity could physically drain stamina," I muttered, "you'd have collapsed by now."
Meanwhile, Hikari was talking.
Constantly.
"Hikari likes this. This is good. Papa, this is good. Papa, look. Hikari is eating. This one is crunchy. Why is it crunchy? Papa, can Hikari have that one too?"
"Chew first," I said.
"Hikari is chewing," she replied confidently.
She was not chewing.
I watched her for a moment, then sighed quietly, already adding that to the growing list of things I needed to teach them.
We were going to have to work on that too.
I turned to Ruri.
She was eating properly—slowly, carefully, with minimal movement and no unnecessary noise. Just quiet, focused eating like she had somehow skipped the chaotic phase entirely.
I felt something dangerously close to relief.
"Thank you for being normal," I said.
Ruri looked up at me, tilting her head slightly. "You're welcome… Papa?"
I closed my eyes for a second.
I was not going to win that battle today.
We continued eating—or rather, they continued eating while I supervised, occasionally stepping in to prevent minor disasters before they could fully develop.
At one point, Karin tried to swap plates with Hikari because "that one looks better." At another, Hikari attempted to stack food into a small tower like it was a construction project.
Ruri, in a perfectly serious tone, asked whether it was acceptable to take food from other people's tables "if they weren't looking."
"No," I said immediately. "That is not acceptable."
She nodded.
"Understood."
At least one of them processed information correctly.
Eventually, the food was gone.
Completely.
I looked at the empty plates.
Then at the three of them.
Then, very slowly, at my wallet.
I already knew.
This was going to be expensive.
I paid the bill, choosing not to calculate the long-term implications of feeding three growing dragons on a daily basis. That was a future problem.
A very concerning future problem.
Once that was done, I leaned back slightly and exhaled.
"Alright," I said. "Next step."
They looked at me immediately.
"Necessities," I continued. "Clothes. Toiletries. Basic hygiene. Bedding. And possibly educational material before you turn into a public safety concern."
Karin tilted her head. "That sounds boring."
"It's not optional," I replied, already moving. "Consider it survival training for living in a house that contains me."
We stood up and left the food court, and as expected, the formation reassembled itself without discussion—Ruri took my hand with quiet certainty, Karin grabbed Ruri's other hand like it was part of the rules, and Hikari climbed back onto me with the confidence of someone who had permanently claimed that spot.
Formation. Again.
We walked through the mall until I spotted a children's boutique. I stopped at the entrance, looked inside, and immediately felt a very specific kind of dread settle in my chest.
"…This is going to be expensive," I muttered.
There was, unfortunately, no alternative. I stepped inside anyway.
Clothes lined the walls, neatly organized by size, color, and style. Everything looked clean, polished, and—more importantly—priced like it had been enchanted with luxury mana.
A clerk approached us with a polite smile. "Hello! Can I help you?"
I nodded. "Yes. We're looking for clothes for these… little girls."
I almost said disasters. That would not have helped.
The clerk looked at the three of them, her expression softening almost instantly. "They're adorable," she said warmly. "How old are they?"
I paused.
For a brief moment, I considered telling the truth. Then I remembered how society worked, how questions led to more questions, and how I did not have the energy to explain dragon biology to a retail employee.
I looked at the girls—height, face, general proportions—then made an educated guess.
"…Five?" I said.
The clerk tilted her head slightly. "You're not sure?"
I straightened immediately. "Of course I'm sure," I said. "They're five."
She gave a small, slightly awkward laugh. "Alright. I can help you find something that fits."
"Please do," I replied, glancing at the three girls. "Something durable would be ideal. Preferably… very durable."
Karin perked up. "Durable means strong, right?"
"Yes," I said. "Strong enough to survive you."
"That sounds like a challenge," she said, grinning.
"It is not," I replied flatly.
Ruri looked between the racks, eyes quietly curious. "Are we allowed to choose?" she asked.
"We are," I said, "with supervision."
Hikari hugged my neck. "Hikari wants soft."
"That," I admitted, "is reasonable."
The clerk gestured toward a section. "Let's start over here. We have some comfortable basics."
I followed, already bracing myself.
Because at this point, I was fairly certain.
Clothes were not going to survive long around them.
And this…
This was just the beginning.
And at some point, I stopped thinking of this as shopping.
This was damage control.
I sat on a waiting bench inside the boutique, one arm resting against the back while I watched the scene unfold in front of me. The clerk moved efficiently between racks, guiding the three girls through clothes like this was a perfectly normal part of her job.
Which, to be fair, it probably was.
Three kids. Slightly chaotic. Slightly curious. Accompanied by a tired adult who had clearly lost control of the situation.
From the outside, this looked ordinary.
From my perspective, I was one purchase away from financial collapse.
"Papa, look!" Karin's voice rang out from across the store.
I looked up and saw her holding a dress that could only be described as aggressively bright—the kind of color combination that looked like it had personally offended subtlety. She spun slightly in place, clearly proud of her choice.
"It's cool, right?" she asked.
I stared at it for a moment, mentally reviewing my options. There were only four acceptable responses in this situation, and unfortunately, none of them involved honesty.
"…It looks great," I said.
Karin beamed instantly. "I knew it!"
Approved. That was how this worked now.
"Papa, this one?" Ruri asked, stepping closer and holding up something much simpler—soft tones, balanced design, something that didn't try to blind me on contact.
I nodded. "That one's good. Very beautiful."
Ruri gave a small, satisfied smile. "Okay."
Then came Hikari.
Except she wasn't holding the clothes properly—she had wrapped herself in them completely, like a small fabric cocoon.
"Hikari likes this!" she declared from somewhere inside the layers.
"You are not wearing it," I said. "You are being consumed by it."
"Hikari is comfortable."
I looked at the outfit—or what I could see of it. It looked soft. Comfortable.
And expensive.
Very expensive.
"…It's cute," I said.
"Then Hikari keeps it," she said immediately.
"Of course you do."
That was the system now. They chose, I approved, and my wallet suffered accordingly.
After several rounds, the pile had grown into something deeply concerning. Dresses, casual clothes, sleepwear, shoes—multiple sets for each of them because apparently one set was not enough for children who could potentially set things on fire or freeze furniture on a daily basis.
"Karin, you don't need three pairs of shoes," I said.
"What if I want options?" she replied.
"You already have options."
"These are better options."
I stared at her.
"…Fine. But only because I don't have the energy to argue."
"Yay!"
At some point, I stopped trying to argue.
Resistance was inefficient.
Eventually, we moved to the bedding section. Somewhere along the way, I had successfully convinced Hikari that walking was, in fact, a valid mode of movement. She still held onto my sleeve, but at least my arms were free.
"Papa, this place is big," Karin said, looking around.
"Yes. Try not to explore everything."
"No promises."
Progress. Small, but meaningful.
The moment we reached the beds, Karin immediately jumped onto one and bounced. "Soft!" she declared, as if discovering a groundbreaking concept.
"Get down," I said.
"I'm testing it."
"You're jumping."
Ruri approached another bed more carefully, pressing her hand against it first before sitting down slowly. "It's comfortable," she said.
"That's the point," I replied.
Hikari… disappeared.
I blinked, turned—and found her already lying on one of the beds, completely asleep.
"Already?" I muttered, walking over.
I gently shook her shoulder. "Hikari. Wake up."
She stirred, rubbing her eyes. "Hikari is resting."
"You were shopping."
"That was tiring."
"…Fair."
I straightened and looked at all three of them. "Pick one. The one you like."
Karin pointed immediately. "That one!"
Bright yellow.
Of course.
Hikari pointed next. "Hikari likes this."
Blue.
That tracked.
Ruri took a moment before choosing a red set. "This one," she said quietly.
I glanced at all three choices, then sighed. "…That's ironic."
"Why?" Karin asked.
"I'll explain later."
We added the bedding to the cart. At this point, it wasn't just full—it was full in a way that suggested I had made several irreversible life decisions in rapid succession.
"Papa," Ruri asked softly, "is this too much?"
"Yes," I said. "But we're past that point."
We moved on to toiletries.
"What's this?" Karin asked, holding up shampoo.
"That keeps your hair from becoming a disaster."
"Oh." She put it in the cart.
Hikari held up slippers. "Cute."
"…Fine."
Into the cart.
By the time we were done, the cart looked like we were preparing for relocation.
"…This is fine," I muttered.
It was not fine.
We made our way to the cashier, and the clerk began scanning items one by one.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Karin leaned closer to the counter. "Does it stop?"
"No," I said. "It gets worse."
Then the total appeared.
72,480 points.
I stared at the number.
Karin leaned closer. "Is that a lot?"
"Yes," I said flatly. "That's a lot."
Hikari tilted her head. "Papa looks sad."
"I'm not sad," I replied. "I'm evaluating my life choices."
I slowly took out my phone and checked my balance—95,000. After food. After everything.
Ruri looked at the screen. "Is that bad?"
"It's… survivable," I said after a pause. "Barely."
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. This was a mistake. A very expensive mistake.
Still… I tapped confirm.
When I opened my eyes again, the damage had been done.
"Thank you for your purchase," the cashier said.
"You're welcome," I replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite feel like mine.
Karin tilted her head. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"I'm coping," I said.
I stored everything inside my storage ring, one item after another disappearing neatly into space—convenient, efficient, and financially devastating.
Hikari clapped lightly. "Magic!"
"It is not magic," I said. "It is controlled financial ruin."
I looked at the girls. "Let's go."
We walked out without me looking back. On the way out, we passed a bookstore, and I slowed for a moment before stopping completely.
"Education," I muttered. "We definitely need that."
Karin perked up. "Are we learning how to fight?"
"No," I said immediately. "We are learning how to behave."
"That sounds less fun," she replied.
"That is not a concern," I said.
We stepped inside.
I picked up basic learning materials—simple books, beginner reading guides, writing tools—things that would hopefully prevent future conversations like 'Can we take food if no one is looking?'
Hikari immediately pointed. "Hikari wants this."
A coloring book.
Approved.
Ruri stood quietly by a shelf, looking at a storybook. I walked over. "Do you want that?"
She nodded.
"Good choice," I said, adding it to the pile.
Then Karin grabbed something.
I looked.
A martial arts manual.
"No," I said immediately.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because you don't need that," I replied.
"I might," she argued.
"You definitely don't," I said.
She frowned, so I handed her coloring materials instead.
"This one has dragons," I added.
She paused… then accepted.
Compromise.
We paid again—less painful than before, but still painful enough to matter.
When we stepped out of the bookstore, I exhaled slowly. Everything was secured, the girls were still with me, and nothing had exploded.
Yet.
Hikari tugged my sleeve. "Home?"
"Yes," I said. "Home."
For once, no one argued.
And as we walked toward the exit, I came to a simple conclusion.
My peaceful life wasn't just over—it had been replaced by something significantly more expensive.
***
By the time we got back to the apartment, I had reached a very important realization.
I was tired.
Not the normal kind of tired that comes from doing something productive, or even the kind that follows a long dungeon run. This was a very specific kind of exhaustion—the kind that builds up slowly from dealing with things you never planned for, things you never prepared for, and things that absolutely refuse to cooperate with logic no matter how politely you ask.
In short, I was tired in a way that felt personal.
I stepped inside first, slipping off my shoes near the entrance before setting the bags—no, not bags, the physical manifestation of my financial downfall—down beside the wall.
With a flick of my hand, I released everything from the storage ring. Clothes, bedding, toiletries, and various other necessities appeared neatly in the living room, forming a small mountain of responsibility that I would have to deal with later.
I stared at it for a long second.
Then I sighed.
Again.
At this point, I had stopped counting.
Behind me, the girls filtered in at their own pace.
Ruri stepped in quietly, her movements slower than before. She rubbed her eyes gently, trying very hard to stay composed even as exhaustion caught up with her.
Karin walked in with noticeably more energy, glancing around like she had just returned from an exciting expedition rather than a full day of chaos.
Hikari, meanwhile, made a beeline for the couch with the single-minded determination of someone who had already decided the day was over.
She did not make it.
She missed the angle entirely, slipped, and collapsed onto the floor.
And just… stayed there.
Asleep.
Immediately.
I looked at her. Then at the couch. Then back at her.
"…You know," I muttered, "that's one way to solve the problem."
No response.
Of course.
I rubbed my face with one hand, letting the fatigue settle deeper into my bones. This was not the life I had envisioned. This was not even close to the life I had planned.
"Papa…?"
I glanced over.
Ruri was swaying slightly where she stood, her eyes blinking slower each time as she fought a losing battle against sleep. She was still trying to maintain proper posture out of sheer habit, which somehow made it worse.
"Come here," I said, keeping my voice low.
She nodded and took a step forward—unsteady, but determined. I crouched down, picked Hikari up first, then carefully lifted Ruri as well, balancing both of them without much effort.
Ruri leaned slightly against me. "Sorry…" she murmured.
"For what?" I asked.
"…Being sleepy."
"That's not something you apologize for," I said. "That's something you fix by sleeping."
She gave a small nod, clearly accepting that logic.
I turned toward the hallway, then paused.
"…Where's the third problem?" I muttered.
"Karin?" I called.
No answer.
I turned back toward the living room.
She was halfway across the room, poking at something she had absolutely no reason to be poking at.
"Karin."
She looked up immediately. "What?"
"Bed."
She blinked. "Now?"
"Yes. Now."
She opened her mouth, clearly preparing to argue.
Then she yawned.
A long one.
"…I wasn't going to argue," she said weakly.
"Of course you weren't," I replied.
I carried Ruri and Hikari into the bedroom first and laid them down carefully. Ruri curled slightly to one side almost immediately, while Hikari spread out across the bed like she had claimed territorial ownership.
I adjusted the blanket over them without really thinking about it.
Then I stepped back and looked at them for a moment.
"…Two down," I muttered.
I walked back out.
Karin was still in the same spot.
"Come on," I said.
She crossed her arms. "I'm not sleepy."
I stared at her.
She yawned again.
"…Right," I said.
I picked her up before she could protest properly. She made a small sound of complaint, but didn't resist much, her earlier energy finally catching up with her.
"Papa, I can walk—"
"You could," I said, "but you won't."
"That's unfair."
"That's accurate."
She huffed, then rested her head against my shoulder anyway.
I carried her into the bedroom and set her down beside the others. She shifted slightly, then settled without another word.
And just like that, the room fell silent.
I stood there for a moment, looking at the three of them—Ruri, calm even in sleep; Karin, finally still for once; and Hikari, completely sprawled out like she had conquered the bed and everything around it.
I let out a slow breath. "…Alright," I said quietly. "No fires, no freezing, no world-ending incidents."
They didn't respond, which, for once, was exactly what I wanted.
I stepped out of the room and closed the door gently behind me before making my way back to the living room. Dropping onto the couch, I stayed there for a while, not really doing anything—just sitting, letting the silence settle, letting my thoughts catch up.
Eventually, I leaned back and rested my head against the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"This morning," I said quietly, more to myself than anything else, "I was watching anime. Farming. Vegetables. A peaceful life with no responsibilities."
I let out a small breath and continued, "Then someone rang my doorbell. I found eggs, tried to cook them, and they hatched into three dragons."
I paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Then I took a nap… and when I woke up, they were children."
I stared at the ceiling a bit longer.
"…That part still doesn't make sense."
Dragging a hand down my face, I continued recounting the day like I was trying to convince myself it actually happened.
"Then I took them outside. We ate. We shopped. I lost most of my budget. And now I'm here… sitting in my apartment with three sleeping dragon girls in my bed."
I exhaled slowly, the weight of it finally settling in.
"…This isn't the life I wanted," I admitted quietly. "Not even close. I wanted something simple. Peaceful. Predictable. Manageable."
I glanced toward the bedroom door.
It was quiet. No chaos, no fire, no endless questions—just silence.
"…At least they're asleep," I muttered, letting my shoulders sink further into the couch. It wasn't much, but it was something—a small, temporary window of peace.
I closed my eyes.
"Just five minutes," I murmured.
Because tomorrow… I already knew.
…is going to be worse.
*****
End of Chapter 6
RETIREMENT STATUS REPORT
Owner: Ren Arclight
Former Occupation: Demon King Slayer / World-Saving Archmage
Current Occupation: Financially Endangered Caretaker
Peaceful Life Goal:
Watch anime, eat snacks, and live quietly without responsibility or unexpected expenses.
Today's Activities:
*Successfully completed public outing with three dragon daughters
*Acquired clothing, bedding, toiletries, and educational materials
*Survived extended exposure to shopping environments
*Experienced severe financial loss
*Returned home without incident
*Successfully put all three dragon daughters to sleep
* Achieved temporary silence
New Developments:
*All three exhibit normal child fatigue cycles
*Attachment to Ren remains consistent
*Karin resists rest until physically overridden
*Ruri attempts responsibility even while exhausted
*Hikari capable of instant shutdown (floor impact optional)
Financial Status:
Initial Funds: 100,000 points
Remaining Funds: Critically Reduced
Spending Pattern: Unsustainable
Peaceful Retirement Stability:
100% Before Doorbell
0% Dragons Hatched
–300% First "Papa"
–800% Public Outing
–3500% Confirmed Parenthood
–6000% Shopping Phase
–9000% Full Household Setup Completed
Current Retirement Status:
Liquidated
Active Concerns:
*Long-term financial sustainability
*Continued supply of food and necessities
*Future behavioral management
*Unknown dragon growth patterns
Environmental Status:
Apartment: Intact
Furniture: Survived
Children: Asleep
Silence: Achieved (Temporary)
Emotional Status:
Exhaustion - Reflection - Partial Acceptance
Future Outlook:
Unavoidable
Archmage Personal Statement:
"I spent more than seventy thousand points today."
Reality's Response:
"You will do it again."