The news of Uesugi's father's death, delivered through the phone, was the first ripple. Ren, perched on the nearby park bench, observed the aftermath through the subtle, almost imperceptible shifts in the spiritual energy around Uesugi's house. The 'Ticket of Despair' had been used, its effect slow, insidious, and aimed directly at the protagonist's narrative. Ren had anticipated a gradual unraveling, a slow erosion of Uesugi's world, but even he was surprised by the immediate, devastating blow.
"Too slow," Ren murmured to himself, a faint frown creasing his brow. He had expected a more dramatic, immediate impact, something that would truly shatter Uesugi's stoic facade. But a protagonist, even one targeted by a 'Ticket of Despair,' still possessed an inherent resilience, a narrative inertia that resisted abrupt, catastrophic change. The system's warning about the effect being slow because it directly impacted a protagonist's story now made chilling sense. A protagonist, after all, was still a protagonist.
Maintaining the 'Real Illusion' barrier around Uesugi's house had been a drain, requiring his constant focus throughout the night. His clone, dispatched earlier to monitor the house while he slept, had woken him with the grim news of Uesugi's father's demise. The clone had then dissolved, its purpose fulfilled, leaving Ren to continue his vigil.
This constant, high-level monitoring was inefficient. Ren needed a more sustainable method. He closed his eyes, focusing his spiritual power, imagining a new form of observer. Not a barrier, but something small, unobtrusive, and self-sufficient. When he opened his eyes, a tiny, iridescent beetle shimmered into existence on his palm. It was a 'clone bug,' a miniature extension of his will.
To his surprise, the clone bug possessed a rudimentary consciousness, capable of observing and reporting what it witnessed. Even better, it required an infinitesimally small amount of his spiritual power to sustain itself. A mere one percent of his spiritual reserves, he realized, could keep a legion of these bugs alive indefinitely. This was ideal. He could scatter them throughout Uesugi's house, hidden in crevices, under furniture, in places no one would ever think to look. They would be his silent, unseen eyes and ears.
With a mental command, the clone bug scurried off his palm, vanishing into the pre-dawn gloom, making its way towards Uesugi's house. Ren then created several more, each one a perfect, undetectable observer. He carefully placed them in strategic locations within the house, ensuring comprehensive coverage.
Satisfied, Ren finally felt the gnawing pangs of hunger. He found a small, unassuming breakfast spot nearby, ate a quick meal, and then, with a sense of purpose, began his journey back to Yuragi Inn.
As soon as he stepped through the genkan, the familiar scent of the inn, a comforting mix of old wood and hot spring minerals, enveloped him. Sagiri and Hibari were waiting, their faces etched with worry.
"Ren-kun! Where did you go last night?" Sagiri demanded, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation.
"We were so worried!" Hibari added, her eyes wide.
Ren, seeing their genuine concern, felt a warmth spread through him. He pulled them both into a gentle hug, letting them cling to him for a moment before answering. "Sorry, girls. I got a little carried away. My friends and I were having so much fun at a party that we didn't realize how late it was. We just ended up falling asleep right there. Next thing I knew, it was morning."
He was eighteen now, legally an adult, capable of drinking alcohol. He knew they wouldn't truly scold him, but they still gave him a stern look, a silent warning about his carefree attitude. Ren had no idea why they looked at him with such intense, almost possessive gazes. He knew he was handsome, but he hadn't fully grasped the extent of his allure. He could, almost effortlessly, make people fall for him, even men, leaving them conflicted about their own sexuality. He had relied so heavily on his Reality Tickets that he had become oblivious to the sheer power of his natural handsomeness.
Sagiri and Hibari, however, knew. They saw the effect he had on others, the way heads turned, the way conversations paused when he entered a room. But because Ren was such a hypocrite, always feigning ignorance, they thought he must already be aware of his devastating charm. They wouldn't be the ones to enlighten him.
Ren, now back in the comforting embrace of Yuragi Inn, decided to dedicate the rest of the day to his women. And he knew exactly where to start. Nonko. She was still in her room, likely lost in her manga work, oblivious to the world outside. He had a feeling she would be very happy to see him.