"What's the status of the people we sent to find the 'Princess'?"

"Report: they've vanished without a trace."

"As expected. I suppose we'll need to prepare the next subject."

The figure with a delicate voice sat on a chair in the darkness, pondering briefly. Then, in a flash, she smiled confidently.

"Shall I send someone to prepare?"

"Mmm, go ahead. It's about time we began."

—

"Ahhh, what a day."

Zeming stretched and stepped out of the house, only to have someone bump into his thigh right away.

He was still in shorts—no big deal, since Eira had seen him like this countless times anyway.

"Waaah~~~"

Glancing down, he saw poor Vivian plopped on the floor, rubbing her nose and sobbing.

"Sorry, sorry! Vivian, did you hurt yourself?"

"Daddy, be careful! It really hurts..."

Vivian sat crying loudly, her scrunched-up nose making anyone's heart ache.

Zeming crouched down, lifted her up, and gently stroked her little nose. "Daddy didn't mean to, really."

Twenty-four years old, Zeming was a teacher raising a child on his own.

"What happened? Why's Vivian crying?"

Eira emerged from the bathroom, her clothes still damp, and set aside her hairbrush to check on Vivian.

His wife Eira loved fitness and military-style routines—even though she was a Hero.

"I accidentally bumped into her when I came out. My bad."

"Be more careful! And where are your pants? Put them on already!"

Eira blushed furiously, flustered by his mesh shorts. They were far from acting like a proper married couple.

As he gently comforted Vivian, her tears slowly stopped. The two exchanged a silent, relieved smile—thank goodness nothing serious happened.

His life was simple: a wife who kept her distance, an adopted daughter, and an ordinary job as a teacher. That was all.

"Aren't you supposed to be off today?" Zeming asked, sitting at the dining table.

"Well, technically yes, but I've been swamped mentoring new recruits lately."

Eira picked up a piece of mixed salad and placed it in Vivian's bowl first.

"Being a Hero really isn't easy, huh?"

Zeming added a fried egg to Vivio's bowl. Their tag-team serving completely fixed her picky eating.

"Your teaching job isn't easy either. You always seem so preoccupied."

"What can I do? At the last reunion, many attendees were my current colleagues. Now they keep asking why my wife and I seem so mismatched... and how I 'landed' you."

Eira fumbled her chopsticks at that, dropping the carrot she'd just picked up.

Zeming watched her face flush from pale to crimson as she looked down, silent and flustered.

"Yeah... honestly, my situation feels worse now."

Work had been killing him lately.

"Daddy didn't answer confidently last time? You said it with such spirit..."

"Don't remind me, Vivian-chan~ If you bring that up again, I'll die of embarrassment~~"

"Oh."

His daughter was so well-behaved.

"'I'm yours'? Are you treating me like an object, you jerk?!"

Eira pouted like a sulking child.

"Not at all~~~~"

*Sigh*, his cringy otaku phase still haunted him.

"...Be careful. By the way, my sister might visit soon."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah, my sister. She's been... well, anyway..."

"Don't worry. She knows our identities."

Zeming shrugged, eating nonchalantly.

"No, only my parents know. So you..."

"Huh?!"

"We might be in for a tough time."