She turned to look at said system, who was now calmly sitting on the windowsill, eating a roasted chicken.
A whole roasted chicken.
Golden-brown, perfectly seasoned, still steaming.
Heena felt a vein throb in her temple. She really, truly wished she could grab him and choke him. Like, strangle this little lion until—
Wait. He was just code. Just lines of programming that materialized as a lion or whatever. You couldn't actually kill code by choking it.
But this 'fucking foodie' always—ALWAYS—had food. One time or another. Popcorn, candy, roasted meat, pastries, wine, exotic fruits. Where did it all come from?
And more importantly—whose pocket did the money come from?
Hers. Of course it came from 'hers'.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Where did you get the money to buy that chicken?"
The system paused mid-bite, clearly not expecting to be interrogated. He avoided her eyes. "My... salary?"
