"Tch, Riku, what's your deal? You really have no sense of how any of this looks?" Gabriel smacked her lips, clearly annoyed. "Thanks to you, I blew my entire allowance on gacha. I'm eating dirt this month."
"Ah, kids these days are so flashy. Why can't you resist the lure of microtransactions?" Riku sighed the kind of sigh that makes Gabriel want to sock him.
"How else do you get strong? You're the one who taught me that," Gabriel said, deadpan.
"Huh? Did I say that?" Riku feigned surprise. "I've never paid a cent. Gear just drops when I wander around maps. As for 'Supreme Member', ranked first in the scoreboard and got it free."
"You…" Gabriel's face froze; she suddenly felt the crushing helplessness of staring up at a true top-tier player. "Because of you, I'm eating dirt."
"Oh? And then?" Riku grinned.
"So give me an artefact." Gabriel's deadpan flipped; her eyes lit up as she stared at him, full of desire.
"I mean, the artefacts in my warehouse are almost growing mould, tossing one or two wouldn't matter. But, Gabriel, there's no free lunch." He waved her off, teasing.
"Tch, you're the worst." She clicked her tongue. "As payment, how about I grant you a blessing? You'll be super lucky afterwards."
Riku couldn't help laughing. For Gabriel, an angelic blessing had somehow become worth… one video-game item.
"Pass on the blessing. You're a washed-up angel with a halo that's gone black; your 'blessing' would probably jinx people. Otherwise, angels would have great luck every pull would be a jackpot, not, you know, the piles of trash you keep rolling." Riku said it lightly.
"…!" Gabriel, usually lazy and jaded, actually froze and stared. "Y-you know what I am?"
"Of course. I know the whole occult side," Riku said casually. He wasn't trying to hide it; this would come out sooner or later anyway.
"Totally misjudged you." She pouted. "Whatever. I'm not interested in your deal."
"Hey, Gabriel, ever heard of enjo-kōsai?" Riku's eyes curved with a grin.
"Tch. Pervert," Gabriel said, face full of disgust. "But it's not something I'd trade for a single item."
"So… two would convince you?" Riku asked, amused. "Maybe consider it at ten thousand," Gabriel muttered, sounding suspiciously like a certain 'sugar-dating' stereotype.
"Enough. Drop it and carry me through some runs," she waved, changing the subject.
"I've got to head out. Ask Shiro," Riku said, brushing his hands.
"Shiro… ugh, hassle." Gabriel sighed. In-game, Shiro was a legend easily strong enough to carry a newbie like her. She just wasn't interested in carrying newbies.
"That's that. Bye." Riku stepped past her petite frame.
"Wait, bring me back a pizza," Gabriel said, quickly catching his sleeve and looking up at him.
"Money?" Riku held out his hand.
"Tch, cheapskate. Can't you treat me? I'm eating dirt here." Gabriel clicked her tongue, aggrieved.
"Sorry, Gabriel, we're landlord and tenant. Okay, also casual friends. Not dating. I'm not obligated to buy your pizza," Riku said evenly.
"Then I'll be your girlfriend. Please provide three meals a day," Gabriel said without missing a beat.
"Are you looking for a boyfriend or a live-in housekeeper?" Riku pressed a palm to her head, half laughing. "I don't need a 'girlfriend' who only causes trouble."
"I'm at least a pretty girl, no chivalry at all?" She stared with dead-fish eyes, solemn as a judge.
"Sure, you look fine. But looks only get you so far; beyond that, hard pass," Riku said, lips quirking.
"That's sexual harassment. I'm calling the cops," Gabriel said, smugly.
"These days, everything requires evidence. No evidence, no crime." Riku gave a tiny shake and slipped free of her grip. "Little Gabriel, you're still way too amateur to spar with me."
Gabriel glared. She seriously considered face-palming him with holy light. This guy was begging for it.
"Tch, forget it. I'm a kind angel, after all, I won't stoop to your level. I'll just keep eating instant noodles." Gabriel clicked her tongue and went back to her room to lie down and game.
Riku, meanwhile, blink-stepped to Sora's room. Seeing her still asleep, he pinched her cheek and left a note saying he had business. Then he returned to his own room.
Aoyuki, the snow-fox yōkai, was still the same; the room's demonic aura had grown dense.
Riku flicked his hand and dispersed the lingering aura, walked up to Aoyuki, lifted his palm, and gave a light tap to her cute forehead.
A crisp clack sounded; Aoyuki's small body tilted, and the two little bells tied in her hair chimed.
"P-pfft, Master, don't hit me while I'm doing this!" Aoyuki snapped awake and complained with a wounded look. "That's dangerous! What if I go berserk and die? Could you live with that on your conscience?"
"Tch. What a troublesome pet fusing with Sesshōseki takes all day. Embarrassing." Riku curled his lip. "Relax. With me here, even if you do go berserk, you won't die. Worst case, your power drops a level. Small thing."
Aoyuki stared, little fists trembling. He interrupts her practice and still talks like that. And a realm drop is already a huge deal!
"I'm teasing you." Before she could retort, Riku pressed a hand atop her head and spoke seriously. "Anyway, don't train yourself into the ground. Being this impatient backfires. And with that tiny frame, you can't shoulder that much yōki."
Aoyuki's golden eyes flickered; she looked moved. So he was worried about her.
Still… if you're worried, could you be a little gentler, heartless Master? I'm at least a silver-haired, adorable girl, okay! You can't treat me so roughly!
She shot him a plaintive look.
"Don't look at me like that. Gross," Riku said evenly.
Aoyuki froze. The warm feeling evaporated; she ground her teeth.
Ugh! Keep this up, and you'll never find a girlfriend, Master!
"Enough teasing. Breakfast is in the fridge. Help yourself. And remember to turn back into a snow fox later; don't let Sora find out." Riku added, "Oh, and Izumi Isayama is still tailing you today. Don't go out."
"I've got things to do. I'm off." With that, Riku vanished.
"So that Izumi is still watching me, huh? If master knows that much, why won't master just spend a little effort and purify her…" Aoyuki muttered.
Grumbling was one thing; she wasn't about to meddle in Riku's decisions. That only got her toyed with, she'd learned.
That sadistic, no-good Master clearly lives to tease me!
Just wait, once I evolve into a nine-tails, the tables will turn. I'll sing my song of freedom, and I'll be the one training you, terrible Master!
Humming a tune, Aoyuki pictured her glorious revenge.
…
Elsewhere, Riku drove his Lamborghini toward the rendezvous. If he wanted a better car, it was a single thought away.
But trivialities like that didn't interest him; something with a little presence was plenty.
In Tokyo's Ashikaga Ward, at the window seats of the tasteful Yada Café not far from Kadokawa Bunko, two women sat facing each other.
One was Machida Sonoko, Kadokawa Bunko's deputy editor-in-chief.
The other was a petite girl, around fifteen, in a school uniform. She had delicate features, craft-doll-like golden hair tied into twin tails; clear blue eyes that made hearts flutter; and porcelain-white skin.
"Editor Machida, are you sure kuangshao-sensei is really coming?" the girl asked, absently stirring her coffee.
"Uh… he should be. He said he was already on the way," Machida answered, not entirely certain. You couldn't blame them, though her impression had improved lately, the image of "Kuangshao-sensei the chronic truant and serial flaker" ran deep.
Even if he ghosted them today, she wouldn't be surprised, just furious.
"I'm so curious what he's like. Anyone who can write such powerful prose, that worldly voice… he must be an 'uncle' in his thirties, right?" the girl mused.
"That's… unlikely," Machida said, expression odd. She'd spoken to Riku a dozen times. His voice was very young, yet carried a touch of magnetism common in older men; even she couldn't pin his age.
Of course, the internet often diverges wildly from reality; nothing would surprise Machida.
Plenty of authors who type like seasoned degenerates online turn into bashful boys IRL, can't even look you in the eye.
The girl before her was similar in reputation, at least. This was famed yuri dōjin illustrator Kashiwagi Eiri. Most people would picture a creepy middle-aged otaku or a neck-bearded shut-in.
But in fact, she was not quite sixteen year old prodigy and a rare Anglo-Japanese, golden-haired beauty.
"Anyway, as long as Kuangshao-sensei doesn't stand us up, we'll be able to see his true face in a moment," Machida Sonoko said, shaking her head.
"Mm." Hearing that, Eriri couldn't help smiling; she was a little nervous and very much looking forward to it.
After all, Kuangshao was her favourite author, no second place. She had three complete sets at home, seventy-five volumes in all: one to read, one to collect, and one to proselytise with.
As a die-hard fan, getting the honour of being the first to meet the man who was a total mystery to the ACG world, there was no way she wouldn't be excited.
The two chatted as time drifted by; it was almost ten o'clock.
That was the actual meeting time; Machida and Eriri had simply arrived a bit early.
Just as they were getting increasingly tense, worried that Riku might bail on them, bursts of exclamations sounded from outside, making them look over.
From their window seats, they could see part of the scene: a limited-edition Lamborghini slowed and pulled into a space.
The door opened, and a figure stepped out. Because of the angle, they couldn't see him clearly, but the onlookers' exclamations outside grew even louder.
Soon, a figure carrying a briefcase walked into the café.
He wore white, looked about eighteen, with short silver hair, striking features, and a presence that was both mature and vibrant.
Just standing there, he naturally became the focus of the room.
Several female customers felt their hearts race, as if they'd fallen in love on the spot, not because they were frivolous, but because he was simply that handsome.
"That face and aura are practically engineered to pick up schoolgirls. Add a limited-edition Lamborghini, and there can't be many families who can match that background. He's basically a perfect boyfriend template," Machida murmured after spacing out for a few seconds, watching the silver-haired youth talk with a server.
"Hmph. Guys like that are just rich second-gens throwing their weight around. I'm not interested," Eriri sniffed. She'd stared for a few seconds too; when she snapped out of it, her cheeks went pink, and to cover her embarrassment, she turned away in tsundere fashion.
Under their gaze, Riku walked over.
"Uh… he didn't hear that, did he?" Eriri muttered, chagrined.
Machida rolled her eyes. See? That's why you don't badmouth people.
As Riku approached, Eriri's eyes darted; she wrestled with whether to apologise.
Machida glanced at her and shook her head, deciding to apologise on the girl's behalf. Eriri was still a minor; better to let an adult handle this sort of thing.
"Ms Machida, this is our first time meeting in person, isn't it?" Riku said with a faint smile before Machida could speak.
"Uh…!" Both Machida and Eriri froze, a beat slow to process it.
"My pen name is 'Kuangshao,'" Riku added, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Ms Machida, don't tell me you've already forgotten this hack of an author."
"Hah Kuangshao-sensei!!" The sudden cry that rang out wasn't Machida's, but Eriri's.
Her beautiful eyes were wide as she stared at Riku in disbelief.
Machida had wanted to exclaim too, but Eriri's shout completely smothered it; she could only stare at Riku, stunned and a bit put out.
They had guessed earlier that Kuangshao was a thirty-something; reality caught them off guard.
Even that guess didn't come close. Riku had spent years in Little Garden; compared to his near-endless lifespan, these numbers were a drop in the ocean.
"Ahem, mind shifting over so I can sit?" Riku asked, unruffled.
"Uh oh." Eriri nodded blankly and instinctively scooted inward.
Riku sat where she had been sitting.
"Sensei, you've really surprised us," Machida said with a wry smile. No wonder he liked to "slack off."
Damn, this handsome and this rich; why wouldn't he loaf around? He probably wrote purely as a hobby.
Yet, writing as just a hobby, he'd already reached a height countless authors could only look up to.
"Sensei, how old are you this year?" Eriri couldn't help asking. It was hard to accept he was this young. If he looked seventeen or eighteen now, didn't that mean he'd been around twelve when he debuted seven years ago? That was monstrous.
"Young lady, it's impolite to ask someone's age the first time you meet. And you were bad-mouthing me just now. That really hurts your first-impression score," Riku said, glancing sidelong at her, teasing. "Being a pretty girl doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."
"Uh…" Eriri flushed with embarrassment. That tiny mutter from so far away, and he'd still heard it? Sensei's hearing was scary.
"Sorry, Kuangshao-sensei. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions or bad-mouthed you behind your back." With that, Eriri turned her head slightly, face full of apology, and offered a sincere apology.
Though Eriri is plenty tsundere, in front of her favourite author, she can't keep that front up when she's in the wrong, she admits it.
"Mm, just be mindful in the future," Riku said casually. He'd only wanted to tease Eriri a bit; he didn't really care.
He hadn't expected, though, that the illustrator Machida found for Interludes of the Demon would be Eriri herself.
Riku's words made Eriri nod again and again. Not only was he handsome and refined, even his magnanimity was impressive. To be honest, Eriri was a little smitten after all; she's a teenage girl; that kind of charm is hard to resist.
Even so, Eriri has her own reserve. Unlike some of the other girls in the café, she didn't stare at him with blazing eyes; at most, she harboured a very strong favourable impression.
"Ahem, let's start with brief introductions." At this point, Machida pushed down her lingering shock, cleared her throat, and, with a professional's poise, steered them back on topic.
"We all know each other, but I'll say it anyway: I'm Machida Sonoko, deputy editor-in-chief at Kadokawa Bunko, and also Kuangshao-sensei's editor in charge."
"I'm Sawamura Spencer Eriri, here to apply to be the illustrator for Kuangshao-sensei's Interludes of the Demon. Ms Machida, Kuangshao-sensei, please take care of me." Eriri followed up earnestly.
"My pen name is Kuangshao. My real name is Riku Dola. You can call me Riku or Dola." Riku shrugged, speaking offhandedly. "Using the pen name feels a bit distant."
"Uh, Kuangshao-sensei, Riku-kun, are you a foreigner?" Machida asked, curious. As a working adult, she naturally knew how to close the distance, so she followed his lead and used his given name.
"I'd like to know that too."
Machida's question also drew Eriri's curious gaze. "You could say that," Riku replied lightly. "What about you, Ms Eriri?"
"M-my dad is a British diplomat, and my mom is Japanese," Eriri said, a little nervous. It's the usual reaction when a typical fan talks to her idol, somewhat stiff and tense. (Hard-core fans don't count.)
"No need to be nervous, you're all young; you should have plenty of common ground," Machida jumped in to help.
"Yeah, Ms Machida's right. Just be as you normally are," Riku added, reassuringly.
"Sir, your oolong latte." A waitress came over then, cheeks flushed as she set the coffee in front of Riku.
"Thanks." Riku smiled in response.
The waitress ran off excitedly and chattered with her coworkers, drawing envious looks from the other servers.
"You really are popular with the ladies," Machida quipped.
"It's okay. Honestly, it's kind of a headache," Riku said, smug as ever.
"…," Eriri rolled her eyes at that narcissism and suddenly didn't feel nervous anymore. "Eriri, could I take a look at your illustrations first?" Riku turned to her and asked.
Being addressed so calmly by a boy she'd just met left Eriri at a loss for words.
"...Riku, here are the illustrations I prepared for Volume One." A little awkward using his given name, Eriri carefully took out the set she'd painstakingly drawn, work that had cost her countless hours, her current peak.
Riku accepted the originals and examined them one by one, carefully.
In the end, he slowly furrowed his brows.
That made Eriri uneasy. Was it not good? That couldn't be; this was her best so far, the set that let her stand out from a field of illustrators.
"Riku, how are Eri-sensei's illustrations?" Machida couldn't help asking.
Riku didn't answer immediately. He first squared up the originals and set them aside neatly.
That small act of care made Eriri glance at him oddly and grow even more nervous.
"To be blunt: Eriri's technical skill is absolutely top-tier, and the style is one I personally like," Riku said seriously after a sip of coffee.
Eriri let out a breath and smiled with relief.
"And then…?" Compared with the still-green Eriri, the battle-hardened Machida could hear there was more coming.
"But there's one fatal issue." Riku shook his head slightly and pointed to the art.
"Um, Kuangshao-sensei, could you tell me what's wrong?" Eriri asked, unable to hold back without realising she'd slipped back to calling him "sensei."
"Interludes of the Demon isn't a fanservice title. Eriri, your style is a bit too lewd." Riku pointed at a heroine whose face was flushed bright red and sighed.
"It's clearly meant to be the flush of battle-excitement, but you've drawn it like she just… finished having sex and is still in the afterglow. It really doesn't fit."
"...!" Eriri's delicate face froze, then turned bright red at a speed visible to the naked eye.