“Google?” both Lucinda and Lucretia chorused together, proving that they really were stereotypical twins.

Oh well, in for a penny…

“Yes, Google.” said Bert in as firm a voice as he could.

The twins waited for him to elaborated.

Bert waited for them to get tired of waiting and go away.

When it looked like Bert really was not going to say anything else, even Lucinda’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth-

And was interrupted by Fly who dashed between them suddenly.

“Hey! Hey! Bert! Bert! Mom wants to know hows you made that soup, can you makes it with any blood? The boys gots a rabbit just now, it’s still alive so we cans slaughter it tomorrow and get the blood and makes that tasty, tasty, yummy yummy-”

“... …”

When it looked like Fly wasn’t running out of steam any time soon, Lucretia gave Fly a whack on the head. “Adults are talking squirt, go somewhere else.”

Fly grabbed her head with an aggrieved expression. “I not squirt, you go aways. This kitchen camp.”

Lucretia’s clear eyes seemed to sharpened. Bert quickly turned and made for the Amanita’s caravan. Fly seemed torn between continuing the quarrel or following her new hero. In the end, she followed Bert. Because Bert has delicious food! The girls might just smack her again.

Inside his chest, Bert’s heart was thumping wildly. Although the emotion hardly showed on his face he was actually nervous about talking with the Mavis girls. Because whole three volume of books were centred around them. That means anyone they speak more than a few sentences to will get caught up in the plot of craziness and meet with all kinds of trouble.

The last thing Bert ever wanted in his life was trouble. He just wanted a peaceful stable life where food was abundant and delicious, work was minimal or at least interesting, and to calmly wait for death.

No sudden death from murder, mayhem or scheme please. All of which Lucretia seems to scatter in her wake. The number of people who died scheming against her, protecting her or just happened to be in the wrong time or place was… a lot. Roberta had made a chart for him before, but he was too coffee deprived to really take in the information.

Oh, god, coffee.

Do they even have coffee here?

At that moment, nearly twelve hours since he had accidentally transmigrated into this world, Bert suddenly felt a pinch of panic.

He strode faster towards the Amanita caravan.

“Rick!” panic made his voice seemed forceful. “Do- do you have coffee?”

Rick frowned. It was a frown of confusion, like he had never heard of the word before.

No, no-

Bert felt his throat close over-

No coffee?

No…coffee?

“Hey, Bert! Bert! Whatcha doing just standing there? Hey! Hey! Momma, I think Bert is broken.”