Do I start with a punch, or a lick of the whip?

“Long time no see—itching for a beating?”

“Oh my, Master, even weakened you’re still that arrogant. You’ll get yourself killed so fast.”

Yep. Itching for it.

“Fight me, Berenz!”

“Gladly!”

I called forth my beloved halberd—Nandu. Cold steel bloomed in my grip like moonlight on a blade.

Berenz slid two serrated knives—Ravenous—from under her skirt. The teeth flashed like a shark’s smile in dark water.

Clang—

Vega planted a fist on us both, a temple bell rung with knuckles.

We could dodge. But dodging would spoil the game. I bet Berenz thought the same.

“Vega, you idiot, what if you knock me stupid? That really hurt!”

So Berenz didn’t eat that punch on purpose after all.

“My lax Master. And you, Berenz.” Vega’s glare cut like frost; she saved that look for the dying. “Please go down and calm your injured companions. I’ll brief Berenz on the state of Andor’s Demon King Army.”

“No way—eep!” One more glare. Berenz shivered like a frog pinned by a snake’s stare.

So even among maids, there’s rank and file.

Bottom’s Dulan. Anyone can smack her. Park that thought for later…

Shouts rose from below like smoke from a kitchen fire. Bad. I needed to get down there and explain.

“It’s yours here, Vega. Keep an eye on Berenz. Then assign her to the outer Demon King Army. I’m heading down.”

“No problem, my for-once-serious Master. Leave it to me.”

I grabbed my luggage and bolted downstairs. On my way out, I saw Vega, face blank as still water, untying the bow at her maid collar.

Why the bow? Does this job need undressing? Berenz trembled even harder, like a leaf in wind.

Whatever. Later.

“Hi, ladies and gentlemen, how are we tonight? Your favorite Andor Mephy is back!”

I mimed tipping a hat, a stage light in my head sweeping the room.

“What happened just now? I felt negative mana.”

So the emcee act didn’t work. I thought they’d roast my delivery like before.

“That stiff face of yours has zero comedy.”

“Agreed. Oh learned Raven, how do you make a deadpan funny? I humbly seek your wisdom.”

“I don’t know that stuff! Don’t change the subject. What happened?”

Don’t say that. I’m not dodging. This really bothers me, like grit under the eyelid.

Everyone was fully armed. That’ll scare kids walking past this house. Put the weapons down.

Monsters? None. Really. No Demonfolk upstairs. No monsters. Just two wraiths people call ‘Calamities,’ like storms chained in a jar.

The girls looked confused. On guard, yes, but not charging the stairs like a tide.

Good thing I didn’t summon in the basement. Basement equals secret sins. Even if they found nothing, it’d seed distance like frost under roots.

The logic goes like this:

Negative mana plus basement equals a degenerate human plotting under candlelight.

Negative mana plus second floor plus good daylight plus no “Do Not Enter” sign equals a scholar chasing a way to beat Demonfolk, white robe in the sun.

Humans are easy to read. Ahem—kidding.

Fine. Spin a story. Literary version first:

“How did it come to this… I completed my first original spell, and I gained new results. Two joys overlapped like twin suns. Those joys could bring more peace to the world. What I should’ve received was a dreamlike, lovelier-than-dreams harem life… but why… why did it become this…”

“What are you even saying? What did you do?”

“Suspicious… Andor, did you do something shameful?”

“Were you threatened? Tricked by a bad woman? It’s fine. Move aside. I’ll kill her for you.”

Looks like no one in this era speaks White Album.

And their faces—

More suspicion. Great.

Thinking it through, letting them see the circle upstairs and Berenz isn’t a big problem. Letting them up is doable.

Still, for fun, I tried to stall. Rational version:

“I was running a magic experiment. It involved accelerating photons hard. On collision, they split and produced electron-positron pairs. Matter lost balance, gas and dust collapsed inward, bounced, squeezed electrons and protons into neutrinos. Neutrinos passed through dense gas and some got absorbed, dumping heat. The gas expanded. Boom.”

“One of my seniors is researching that. Some superno… something explosion. I can give you his address.”

Raven pulled a notebook from her pocket and scribbled me an address like a map drawn at midnight.

There’s actually someone researching this? Incredible. I thought supernovae only show up after the Clay Era’s rules lock in. Every star now is a god-realm, after all.

“Let me see. I also study the essence of particles sliced to the unsliceable. One of my topics is ‘On the Dual Existence of Particles and Conceptual Projection.’ Show me your results!”

“No, no. Later.”

Still no? Fine, black-history version:

“When I was young, I smiled, too. However… everyone has old scars they don’t want seen. You want to bury them in the past. You don’t want them dug up. Better to forget. To let go.”

I pressed my forehead, pained, eyes downcast like rain on lashes. A hint of mist—wait, that’s a girl’s expression, isn’t it?

Vega, your script is trash.

“So you really won’t let us see, no matter what?”

Not no matter what. There’s nothing indecent to hide, anyway.

“I hope you understand. If it were something shameful, I wouldn’t do it while you were here, right?”

Reverse reasoning version. Prove the logic of my actions.

“It’s also possible you did something bad. You thought we wouldn’t notice. But the situation ran away from you. Or you crafted this excuse to trick us by reversing it.”

Stini hit the mark again. Arms crossed, thinking hard—if you didn’t know she’s a natural airhead, you’d think she deduced it.

“I deduced it! You were just thinking I’m an airhead!”

“Right, right. Good girl. Fine, I concede.”

“Forget it. If you really don’t want us to look, then forget it.”

“You trust me that much?”

I only asked in passing.

Stini sheathed the Holy Sword. She beamed and gave me a thumbs-up, sun through clouds.

“Mm! I trust you.”

Trust… me?

Will it move me? Will it warm me like a small fire in winter? If one day we stand as enemies, will I hesitate to kill? Up to now I can spill blood without tears. What about the future?

Head knows I’m with a few girls. He didn’t expose me. With His wisdom and intel, He knows what I’m after. The Primordial Pact shackles Divine Beings, yes, but He has His plans.

Does He know what lives in my heart?

I’m shaping the Hero team led by Stini. They, in turn, shape me like water wears stone.

Deep down, I still feel nothing. Is this that rule that observer and observed can’t be the same? Or is my heart truly forged of steel, a clean void?

I still know nothing.

“Kidding. There’s nothing indecent. I just teleported a new maid in. I’ll take you upstairs.”

“Okay!” “I win!” “Treat us to dinner.”

So easy to trick. I’ve got their temperaments pinned like butterflies.

“What happened just now?” “No idea. Probably bullying the new girl. It’s fine; I’ll be in your party for a long time.”

Two newcomers whispered like sparrows.

“No hazing the newbie! Also, Elina, don’t think so masochistically, please.”

Honestly. Not one of them is easy.

I led the chattering girls upstairs. Hand on the knob, I remembered the saying: one girl equals a thousand ducks. I had five thousand ducks at my back.

No—like five thousand preschoolers in a candy store.

I peeked in. Vega and Berenz were tangled like ivy. The air was thick with a lewd sweetness. Their lips pressed, bodies rolling like waves. Hands sometimes tender, sometimes rough, cupped breast and hip.

And they were stark naked.

I’d guessed as much on my way out, so I wasn’t shocked.

“Mmm—ahh, mm—ah—” Berenz let out a high moan. Then her strength gave out like strings cut, and she collapsed on the bed, panting hard.

“That’s my bed. Clean it when you’re done.”

“My dear Master, do you think that’s polite?”

“Sorry. I’ll leave right now.”

I stepped out. She called after me.

“Please close the door.”

“Yes, Miss Vega.”

Click.

Five girls stood there, cheeks blazing like peaches.

“Now you get it? That petite girl is the new maid I just space-transferred in—Berenz. Now you see why I didn’t want you upstairs.”

“Got it—”

Heads bobbed like pecking chicks.

“Good. Dismissed.”

I waved. At once, they scattered like a flock startled into the trees.

Vega opened the door a crack and spoke from a spot the fidgeting people downstairs couldn’t see.

“My well-coordinated Master, your line was very good.”

“The doubts are cleared. No—there’s still the space transfer itself. I’ll mention it casually later.”

“For example, a space-transfer magic scroll. In your setting, you can afford that kind of tool.”

“Let’s leave it at that for now. Oh—Vega.”

“Your orders?”

“Take Berenz and hunt monsters. Most monsters have pledged to my younger siblings. We can’t recruit them. I need a lot of lower thralls. Even if killing them and regenerating them via the Ocean of Darkness drops their rank, we have no choice. Make it fast. War is about to start.”

“Your will.”

Vega bowed, head lowered like a blade at rest.

Berenz whined, “How can you— I was just getting excited— eep!” I ignored it and headed downstairs.

What waits below is a long road. Battle, disguise, calculation. I still have too much to do.

No room for carelessness.

And there’s still “that matter” Head wants me to do…

If “that matter” is something a Demon King would do to slay a god, fine. But why did Head propose it?

Tie it to the last arc of the Silver Era, and a guess takes shape. No proof. But eight times out of ten…

I snatched up my pack and walked out the door. My eyes were cold and hard as knives.