?

  As they stepped inside, Mira lit up instantly. The place looked like a pastel explosion, with giant colorful poops floating from the ceiling like parade balloons.

  A chirpy staff member waved them toward a row of tiny, brightly colored toilets lined up like thrones.

  "Please sit and make your own unko!" she sang out.

  Mira didn't hesitate—she beelined to a bubblegum-pink toilet and plopped down like she was claiming a prize. Adrian, meanwhile, stared at the setup like it was some kind of social experiment.

  "...We're seriously doing this?" he muttered, half to himself.

  "Come on, Mr. Scientist," Mira called, patting the blue toilet next to hers. "It’s all about cultural experience!"

  Resigned, Adrian unbuttoned his coat and sat, stiff as a board, as if worried the thing might launch him into orbit.

  At once, a jingle blared overhead—something suspiciously cheerful—and a loud "PLOP!" sound effect echoed through the hall.

  Tiny rubber poops popped out into the trays under their seats with a puff of confetti.

  Mira burst out laughing. "I... I think yours is bigger."

  Adrian held up his sad-looking, lopsided poop between two fingers like it was radioactive. "I refuse to comment."

  "You know," Mira added, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, "you actually look pretty majestic on a toy toilet."

  He deadpanned, "Diplomatic negotiations have prepared me for worse situations."

  Then, seeing Mira still laughing uncontrollably, he allowed himself a real, full grin—the kind she rarely saw.

  They stood side by side, each holding their freshly “produced” unko like prized relics. Mira’s was a swirl of pastel purple and mint green—cute, oddly stylish. Adrian’s, on the other hand, was a neon orange monstrosity sprinkled with glitter that caught the light like radioactive confetti.

  Mira glanced at his, blinked once, and then completely lost it.

  She doubled over, laughing so hard she had to clutch the edge of the nearby bench to keep from falling. “Oh my god—Adrian Vale—holder of the U.N. patent in quantum neurotech—is carrying a glitter poop!”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow at it, then looked at her, unamused. “Is it… supposed to sparkle?”

  Mira wheezed, trying and failing to compose herself. “Yours looks like it escaped from a lab accident!”

  “I feel like it’s judging me,” he said dryly, holding the neon swirl between two fingers like it might bite.

  Mira collapsed onto the bench, shoulders shaking. “I can’t—I seriously can’t—your face!”

  Adrian looked at her, then at his poop again, and gave a small, resigned shake of his head. “I think it’s bonding with me. I might be in danger.”

  That sent Mira into a new round of helpless giggles. “This is it. This is my peak. I will never recover from this moment.”

  He watched her laugh, lips twitching despite himself. Then, quietly: “Well, at least one of us is having a spiritual awakening.”

  “You’re lucky I didn’t record that. Yet.”

  “I’m starting to regret many life choices.”

  “You’re in too deep now, Vale,” she said, standing up and pointing ahead. “And next... we conquer the Poop Volcano.”

  Adrian sighed dramatically, holding his glitter-poop like a cursed artifact. “Fine… Queen of Chaos.”

  ?

  The Poop Volcano towered in front of them like some bizarre monument to chaos—pink, inflated, and pulsating gently with LED lights that shifted colors every few seconds. Around its rubbery base, excited children and baffled adults gathered with little plastic scoops, cheering every time the volcano erupted and sprayed a cascade of foam poops into the air.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Mira’s eyes widened. “This is… majestic.”

  Adrian squinted up at it. “That’s one word for it.”

  Just then, a bell rang. The crowd counted down—“San! Ni! Ichi!”—and with a joyful honk, the volcano exploded. Dozens of soft, rainbow-colored poops rained down like confetti.

  Mira leapt forward with the rest of the kids, arms outstretched, laughing as she caught one mid-air like a bouquet. “I got one!”

  Adrian caught a foam poop square in the chest.

  He just stood there, blinking slowly as it bounced off and landed at his feet.

  Mira turned, saw him with his expression frozen between disbelief and surrender, and nearly collapsed all over again. “You’ve been blessed!”

  He bent down, picked it up, and held it in one hand like Hamlet with a neon skull. “To poop, or not to poop…”

  A foam one landed on his head.

  Mira had to sit on the padded ground, wiping away tears. “Stop. You’re too serious for this place. It’s rejecting you!”

  “I feel like I’m under attack,” he muttered, brushing it off, though the corner of his mouth had finally cracked into a smile.

  They stood amidst the chaos—kids squealing, lights flashing, the volcano preparing for another glorious eruption—and for once, Adrian looked completely out of his element.

  Mira beamed. “Best. Field trip. Ever.”

  He looked at her, then up at the ridiculous volcano again. “You know what? I give up. Long live the lava.”

  The volcano honked again. They both ducked.

  ?

  The next zone was louder, brighter, and somehow even more ridiculous: the Interactive Area.

  Colorful screens flashed everywhere, and the biggest one in the center challenged them: "SHOUT UNKO! MAKE YOUR POOP GROW!"

  Mira clapped her hands like a kid seeing fireworks. "Come on, come on! We have to try this!"

  Adrian, however, crossed his arms, eyebrow raised. "You want me to shout ‘poop’ at a giant screen?"

  "YES!" Mira beamed at him, absolutely no shame.

  He stared at her. She stared back, full of expectation.

  With a quiet sigh — the sigh of a man who had long since realized he was powerless against the madness of the afternoon — Adrian shifted his gaze elsewhere. "No."

  Mira didn't even care anymore. She bounced on her heels, sparkling with excitement. Without waiting, she ran to the mic station, drew a huge breath, and shouted at the top of her lungs:

  "UNKO——!!!"

  On the giant screen, a vibrant poop burst upward like a firework, drawing cheers and laughter from others nearby.

  Seeing it, Mira chortled uncontrollably, her laugh so pure and infectious that it echoed louder than her shout. She clutched the stand to steady herself, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

  Adrian, standing a few steps back with arms loosely crossed, covered his mouth with his hand, watching her. His eyes crinkled with hidden laughter, amusement flickering like a rare fire inside him.

  Still hiccuping with laughter, Mira wiped her eyes, grinned like a maniac—and without warning, shouted again, louder, even more ridiculous:

  "UUUUN——KOOOOO!!!"

  The word echoed through the building, making several kids jump and a few adults turn their heads. The screen flashed dramatically, and an even bigger, more sparkling poop launched into the air, crowned with animated confetti and fireworks.

  Adrian covered his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking slightly — but it wasn't anger or embarrassment. It was surrender. Complete, helpless amusement. He was done.

  "How," he murmured, "is this my life now?"

  Mira, still panting from her grand performance, turned to him, cheeks flushed with glee. "Did you see that? I grew a mega-poop!"

  Adrian peeked at her through his fingers, his mouth twitching, utterly unable to suppress the slow smile crawling onto his face.

  "You’re...very talented," he said solemnly, like he was complimenting a Nobel Prize winner.

  Before he could be dragged into more screaming competitions, he slipped away toward the Crappy Arcade — rows of old-school arcade games but hilariously re-themed with poops: Poop Invaders, Super Poop Kart, and even a claw machine filled with mini plush poops.

  Mira bounced after him, still high on victory, while Adrian pretended to examine the game cabinets with great seriousness—anything to delay getting challenged to another shouting match.

  ?

  If Adrian thought the chaos would calm down, he was only half right.

  The next zone, flamboyantly labeled the Untelligence Area, looked like a war between preschool art and digestive regret. Mira, still riding the high from her earlier triumph, darted to a booth titled Draw Your Own Poop! and grabbed neon markers.

  After a few minutes, Mira held up her finished drawing with a huge grin.

  It was a poop with angel wings and a sparkly crown.

  Adrian blinked at it, then gave her a deadpan nod.

  “Truly, an enlightened vision.”

  Mira laughed so hard she nearly dropped the paper.

  “Show me yours!” she demanded, poking his arm.

  With theatrical reluctance, Adrian turned his sheet around.

  It was a disturbingly geometric poop, perfectly proportioned, almost like he had applied engineering formulas to its curves.

  Mira slapped a hand over her mouth, trying — and failing — not to burst into uncontrollable laughter again.

  “Adrian! Did you… did you measure your poop?!”

  He shrugged with exaggerated seriousness.

  “Architectural integrity is important.”

  Wiping tears from her eyes, Mira managed to stand again, linking her arm casually through Adrian’s — not even noticing the casualness anymore — as they moved toward the next part.