The ancient demon gods had never been stingy with taking lives—yet, paradoxically, they had little interest in killing indiscriminately.Zhongli's actions just now were proof enough, a lesson delivered with quiet but overwhelming force.
"Wow… terrifyingly terrifying," someone muttered.
It wasn't until Zhongli's figure fully vanished into the distance that Mori Ougai emerged from the convenience store.
The ground outside was in ruins—cracked earth, jagged stone fragments, and upturned slabs of rock. Some had transformed into sharp spikes that pinned attackers to the ground, others split apart to trap them painfully in place.
Mori Ougai crouched beside a random victim, examining the precision of the injuries. Each stone thorn pierced at just the right angle—rendering the target utterly immobile without causing death from blood loss. Most of these men would likely spend the rest of their lives in wheelchairs.
Not one attacker was dead, yet their suffering was far worse than death.
"Should I say he's too soft-hearted to kill, or too principled to be merciful…?" Mori Ougai murmured.
Beside him, Alice tilted her head like a mechanical doll before suddenly breaking into a bright, innocent smile.
"Mr. Zhongli is amazing!" she said cheerfully. "He's really a powerful ability user."
"…Ah." Mori Ougai sighed, rubbing his temple. He crouched and ruffled her hair. "Looks like we still need to work on your social habits… That performance just now was far too stiff—Mr. Zhongli surely noticed."
Alice shook his hand off with a pout. "Alice isn't stiff! Lintaro's just too weak!"
Even being scolded by a little girl didn't dampen Mori Ougai's smile. "Yes, yes, you're always right."
From his lowered position, a flicker of orange caught his eye. He turned sharply—only to see a small calico cat dart out from under a wrecked car, scampering in the direction Zhongli had gone.
"…A cat?"
----
Zhongli, unaware he was being tailed, was leading Nakahara Chuuya toward the outskirts of Yokohama.
Food, clothing, shelter, transportation—Morax might be short on money, but that didn't stop him from finding shelter in ways ordinary people couldn't. His mind was already fixed on a hill outside the city where he could carve out a cave dwelling—a quiet refuge from Yokohama's chaos.
The boy in his arms, warm and drowsy, curled closer and drifted into sleep. Eight years old—of course he was tired.
As they neared the suburbs, the streets grew quieter, humans scarcer. Stray cats and dogs roamed the alleys, watching Zhongli with wary eyes.
He stopped suddenly.
Perched on a clean trash can, a calico cat was holding its own in a standoff against two cats and a dog. Zhongli watched as the calico dodged the dog's lunge, letting it jam its head into the trash can, then kicked it aside—sending the can crashing into one of the other cats.
Having dispatched its opponents, the calico trotted up to Zhongli, brushing against his leg with a soft mewl.
Zhongli: …
Even without knowing what "Yokohama's calico cats" were infamous for, he could feel the creature's overwhelming elemental energy radiating in the air.
Resolving not to be swayed by its cuteness, he stepped forward—only for the cat to coil itself around his ankle, refusing to let him pass.
"…What are you doing?" he asked, finally bending down to scratch its head.
"Mii~"
"…Are you hungry?"
Feigning ignorance, Zhongli pulled a tuna rice ball from some hidden pocket and set it on the ground. "Eat here. Don't follow me."
The cat's ears twitched.
From the shadows of its fur, Natsume Sōseki's mind reeled. Live in a cave? With a sickly experimental subject? Absolutely not.
Abandoning the rice ball, the cat leapt onto Zhongli's shoulder and meowed insistently.
Zhongli tilted his head. "Dark Ink Gold? What's wrong?"
…Dark Ink Gold? When did that become his name?
Ignoring the absurdity, Natsume bit through the rope of Zhongli's earring, snatched it, and bolted back toward the city.
Zhongli stared after it, stunned—then followed.
---
The calico led him to an abandoned house far from any major power's territory. The furniture was covered in dust, but still in good condition. With a wave of his hand, Zhongli commanded the rock element to sweep the dust outside in neat, orderly waves.
Picking up his earring from the floor, he muttered, "Not a very elegant way to repay a meal."
From the shadows, the calico exhaled in relief.
Zhongli put away the earring and carried Nakahara into the bedroom. The bedding smelled faintly musty, but night was falling and the shops were closed. Wrapping the boy snugly, he murmured, "Just for tonight. Tomorrow, I'll get you a new quilt."
As he rose to leave, a small hand gripped his coat.
"Don't… go…" the boy whispered.
Zhongli sighed softly. "…This is a right that belongs to the cub."
Removing his coat, he slid under the quilt and wrapped the child in a gentle embrace. The boy relaxed instantly.
"Sweet dreams, Chuuya," he whispered.