Iris was the toughest to handle here. Her ability seemed like hypnosis. Paired with the maid’s violin, it really countered me hard.

I slowly approached the dungeon entrance, keeping my footsteps silent. My time control had a flaw: its max range was only within my line of sight. The wider the area, the more time it drained—and the weaker the effect got.

The door wasn’t even locked. Guess Iris forgot. I gently pushed it open. Bright light from the ceiling’s crystal chandelier hit my eyes. This “dungeon” just led straight to a side hall. The house layout wasn’t that complex after all.

No one seemed to be in the hall. Ambush? I cranked up my personal Time Acceleration. Even if someone was there, they couldn’t see me.

I followed the hall and opened another door—kitchen. Iris sat on a chair, reading a book. The stove beside her boiled water. Where was everyone else? I remembered another maid. Only Iris here? Maybe they all went to sleep.

All my game coins had been confiscated. I crept closer to Iris. What she held made zero sense—some foreign script I couldn’t read.

I recalled Iris activated her power through her fingers. Bind her hands, and she’d be harmless. But I had no rope. Hmm, the red ribbon in her hair looked useful. I quietly untied it—her hair flowed nicer naturally anyway. I tied her hands behind her back and dropped my Time Acceleration.

Iris stared at my sudden appearance, no panic. These guys had zero expressions. “You’re out,” she said flatly. Seriously, how was I supposed to react to that? “Aren’t you even a little surprised I escaped?”

Iris opened her mouth wide, but her eyes stayed deadpan. “Ah! Is that so?” Then back to blankness. Are you messing with me? The kettle whistled. Iris locked eyes with me. “Water’s boiling.” She just kept staring.

I don’t know why, but I took the kettle off for her. Iris spoke calmly again: “Make tea.” Hey now, this plot’s off. I don’t even know how. This girl’s got issues. Fine, I’ll brew it. “Just pour water and add leaves?”

Iris instructed evenly: “Rinse the teapot with boiling water. Heat it evenly, then dump the water. Add tea leaves—one teaspoon per cup.” Longest sentence she’d ever said to me. Ignoring my confused face, she continued: “Pour boiling water from higher up. A steady stream unlocks the tea’s true fragrance. Makes it richer.”

“Why so fussy?” What was I even doing? Finally, the black tea was ready. Learned brewing just by coming here. “Feed me,” Iris said flatly. “What?” Still expressionless: “My hands are tied by you. Feed me.” At least you know I did it.

I brought a cup to her lips. “Too hot. Blow on it.” I didn’t gag you. “Don’t you have a mouth?” Iris stayed silent, unblinking. Helpless, I blew on it. When did I become her babysitter?

After she finished the tea, I cut to the chase. “You said your father would come. Where is he?” Iris stared blankly at her rose-patterned cup. “Out. Welcoming someone.” A trace of unease hit me. If he’s welcoming someone, it’s worse than that puppet master.

“Who?” I pressed. She shook her head. “Don’t know.” Expected. “What about the others?” No one but Iris here. “All went with Father.” Her voice stayed calm.

Questioning was pointless. Time Reversal on her memories then—even if I saw little. I placed my hand on her forehead. Her emerald eyes fixed on me, silent, expressionless.

Iris was born without expressions. Couldn’t even cry. Some personality disorder. Her father spent fortunes trying to fix it. No friends because of it. I thought she was brainwashed—turns out this was just her.

After her mother died, her grieving father gained a power. It gave Iris “friends”—Numbers One through Five. But her memories held no trace of Organization K. Probably erased.

So Iris was the puppet master’s real daughter. Numbers One to Five were made for her protection. As a father, he was decent. As a human? Utterly failed. Brainwashing kids for his daughter—who does that?

But why leave only Iris this time? Maybe the guest he’s welcoming is unpredictable. Didn’t dare bring his daughter.

“Sorry, classmate Iris. I’m kidnapping you to lure your father out.” Iris tilted her head. “Oh.” I didn’t even bother reacting.

I left a note, scooped her up, activated Time Acceleration, and bolted.

Around midnight now. Iris’s hypnosis lasted roughly three hours. She didn’t struggle in my arms—maybe she didn’t grasp “kidnapping.” I pitied the puppet master. A daughter this clueless gets snatched easy. Though right now, I was the snatcher.

Iris gazed upward. “Why no stars today?” “Stars went to sleep.” I knew she’d buy that excuse. “Is that so?” She closed her eyes. “Then I’ll sleep too. Good night.” And she dozed off in my arms. How big is the hole in her brain?

I accelerated back to Nana’s place fast. But not just Nana—the principal was there too. “Yo, little bro! Carried in, but came out with a girl? Sister’s seriously impressed.”