Time froze. Dead silence surrounded me—I heard no jeers, no mocking voices. Strange.

I glanced at Kurokawa Sana. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth slightly parted, disbelief flooding her gaze. Huh? Did sucking in my gut actually work? Could I really have eight-pack abs?!

I looked down. Holy crap! What the—?!

My stomach—eight defined abs, sharp hip lines. Every exposed inch was sculpted muscle, sleek and beautiful.

Even I fell for this physique. Too perfect. How? Did this life’s me train hard? Impossible! From chats with Tamaki Taichi and Matsushima Ryo, I was clearly an otaku. My study crammed with books, manga, game discs, figures and merch proved it. Whatever! Time to strut my stuff.

"Hah! See? I wasn’t lying! Eight-pack abs! I’m a powerhouse—believe me now?"

Phew. No clue how this happened, but showing off in front of pretty girls is my lifelong mission. Nailed it. Don’t overthink—sleeping’ll jog my memory!

Kurokawa Sana stopped giving me trouble. She believed I was a hidden powerhouse. Her eyes practically screamed admiration:

*You’re amazing, Fuchi-kun! I idolize you! So cool! So strong!*

*Just daily routine. Nothing special.*

That’s the dialogue I imagined from her stare. Probably 90% accurate.

"You believe me now? I’ll take them to the car. I’m counting on you to watch over them."

"Of course. I’ll take good care of them."

Kurokawa Sana had calmed down. Our conversation returned to normal.

I glanced at her. She sat on the sofa just like our first meeting—posture, gestures, identical to the receptionist I’d met earlier.

I hoisted Uehara Eri and Takagi Megumi onto my shoulders like cargo. Don’t ask why I’m rough—I won’t admit it’s to save time. Every minute delayed risked new trouble.

I eased the private room door open, peeked out. Clear! Go! Go! Go!

Felt like a deep-cover assassin.

Elevator lobby—no issues. Good.

Pressed the button. Progress bar advancing!

Then—a private room door swung open! Abort!

Out waddled a jowly man, red-nosed from drink, belly straining his suit. A boss type, clearly. Beside him, a heavily made-up woman in her mid-twenties—secretary or subordinate, pretty but with a certain weariness. After days surrounded by supermodels, she looked merely average to me.

Classic boss-mistress tryst. Or "leader and subordinate’s untold story."

Laughing and swaying, they reached the elevator.

The boss spoke first:

"Xiao Ma, how’ll you explain not coming home tonight?"

"Boss Songteng, you’re awful! You know I’m married, yet you invite me out... You know my excuse already!"

"I want to hear you say it."

"I texted my hubby: ‘Overtime with female coworkers. Won’t be home.’"

"He didn’t suspect?"

"Of course not! He’s too honest. Whatever I say, he believes. Tonight, I’m all yours, Boss Songteng Dahui!"

"Good. Tomorrow, I’ll give you ‘overtime pay’—that’ll erase his doubts. I booked a room upstairs. Five-star hotel—no one will know about us tonight. Staff here have top-tier discretion. Soon, we’ll heh heh heh—"

"Don’t rush! Let me shower first. Then I’m yours to command. Any ‘unlock move’ you want, I’ll deliver."

"Hah! I’m starving for it. You’ll see who’s better—me or your hubby!"

"No contest! He lasts three minutes. How could he compare to you, Boss?"

...

The elevator doors closed. Their voices faded as it ascended toward the hotel floors.

I pushed open the emergency exit door, phone lowered—recording stopped. Staring at the departed elevator, dumbfounded.

...

Flashback:

When that private room door started opening, I’d spotted the emergency exit across from the elevator. I’d dragged Eri and Megumi inside, shut the door, and watched through the peephole.

I’d expected boring business talk. But after their first exchange, I sensed juicy gossip. My hand automatically pulled out my phone, hit record, and aimed through the glass.

They stood in light; I lurked in shadow. Facing away from the stairs, relaxed and unguarded, they never noticed the camera—even when turning slightly.

After they left, I carried Eri and Megumi out.

I’d planned to take the elevator down. But at the lobby, I sensed more people coming. Silently, I retreated back into the emergency stairwell.

Smart move. Footsteps echoed outside moments later. So I made another brilliant decision: *Take the stairs.*

No fire alarm, no explosion—nobody would use these stairs. They led straight to the parking garage. Perfect stealth! Genius!

I acted immediately. Carrying Eri and Megumi, I began my "long march" downward.