The world lost all sound and color in Miko Iino's eyes.
She stood blankly in place.
In her ears still echoed her father's "Please, you must make use of her!"
Seiji Fujiwara, with great interest, appreciated the expression on her face, the hollow, numb emptiness left behind after the soul had been entirely drawn out of her.
He was satisfied.
A perfect work of art could only be reshaped, in the artist's hands, into something even more pleasing, after it had been thoroughly smashed apart.
He turned around and waved a careless hand at the head maid by the door.
"Take her away."
His voice was as flat as if he were ordering the disposal of some unimportant object.
"Yes, Master."
The head maid bowed slightly, then moved with soundless steps over to Miko Iino's side.
"Miss, please come."
Her voice was polite, but carried no trace of warmth.
Miko Iino did not react. She remained like a stone statue with its soul stripped away, frozen rigidly in place.
Her father, Councilman Iino, when he saw this scene, had a flicker of struggle pass over his face, almost imperceptible. But he immediately forced down that excess "fatherly" emotion.
He walked quickly to his daughter's side, his face once again piling up a humble smile for Seiji Fujiwara.
"Mr. Fujiwara, my daughter... my daughter has simply, for the moment, failed to comprehend your greatness! Please rest assured, I..."
"Out."
Seiji did not even look at him. He merely uttered the single, light word.
That single word was like an ice-cold steel needle that pierced through every disguise and excuse Councilman Iino had prepared.
His face went pale in an instant.
He knew. He had been "used up."
As the "guide" who had personally delivered the sacrifice to the altar, his mission was finished.
Every second longer he stayed here would only invite this new master's displeasure.
"Yes! Yes! I... I take my leave at once!"
He did not dare hesitate any further. He gave Seiji Fujiwara's back another deep bow, nearly ninety degrees, then retreated in panic out of the study.
From beginning to end, he did not glance at his daughter even once more.
The door of the study closed again.
Inside the room, there remained only Seiji Fujiwara, the head maid, and Miko Iino, who was like a statue.
The head maid looked at the unresponsive Miko and frowned slightly.
She reached out a hand, ready to take her away by more forceful means.
But Seiji walked over.
He came to a stop in front of Miko, looked at those eyes that had lost all their light, and spoke quietly.
"Lift your head."
Miko Iino's body, as though pulled by invisible threads, trembled faintly without her control.
Then, she slowly raised her head.
She had obeyed.
...
Miko Iino was kept in that residence.
She was not treated roughly, nor was she locked in some shadowy cell.
On the contrary, she was housed in a room that was clean to the point of luxury.
The room had no superfluous ornament. No books, no television, not even a single window through which she could see the outside world.
Only a bed, a table, and a chair.
And a vast display screen that took up an entire wall.
From the very first day she was brought into that room, her "reeducation" began.
Every day, at fixed times, maids would deliver her food, nutritionally balanced, but monotonous as chewing wax.
Apart from the maids who brought her meals, the only person who ever made contact with her was the head maid, whose face never carried any expression.
The head maid became her "instructor."
And the tool of instruction was that enormous display screen.
On the screen, day after day, various "case studies" began playing on a loop.
The first case was a high-ranking cabinet minister. The screen played, with perfect clarity, the entire body of evidence showing how he had used his position to accept enormous bribes and forced through the approval of a chemical project that would have caused severe environmental pollution.
Miko looked at those images obtained through illegal wiretaps and covert filming, ironclad proof, and a faint flame of "justice" stirred in her heart.
A man like this should be sent to court! Sentenced to the harshest judgment the law allowed!
But then, the image on the screen shifted.
What played next was the entire process by which Seiji Fujiwara's team used these "illegally obtained pieces of evidence" to threaten and pressure that minister into using his power, forcing through the approval of another project, a "clean energy" project backed by enormous investment, capable of improving the entire Kansai Region's ecological environment.
At the end of the video was the image of that impeccably dressed minister, kneeling on the ground like a dog, kissing the leather shoes of one of Seiji Fujiwara's subordinates.
The faint flame that had just been kindled in Miko was extinguished in an instant by a bucket of ice water.
"Do you see?"
The head maid's voice rang out coldly in the pure-white room.
"This is what the master calls 'justice by result.' To achieve a 'good' result, one must employ 'evil' means. Because the so-called 'procedural justice' has long since become a hypocritical tool used by those in power to defend their own interests."
Miko bit her lip, unable to refute.
The second case was a black-hearted enterprise that exploited its employees, forced them to work uncompensated overtime, and had even driven several to death from overwork.
The screen played the despairing images of the families of those employees, pushed to the brink, who had sought legal recourse, suing again and again, only to lose again and again because of "insufficient evidence."
Miko's heart ached as though pricked by needles.
She knew. This was the reality she had once wanted to change through her own legislation.
But then the screen began to play the entire process of how this black-hearted enterprise was, within a mere week, sniped at and maliciously acquired by capital under Seiji Fujiwara's banner, leading its funding chain to snap and its operations to collapse with a crash.
At the end of the video came the wretched image of that once-overweening company president, after bankruptcy, reduced to wandering the streets, surrounded by the very employees he had once exploited, being beaten freely on every side.
Meanwhile, Seiji Fujiwara's charitable foundation provided the families of every harmed employee with consolation payments far in excess of what the law required.
"This is efficiency."
The head maid's voice was like a surgeon's scalpel, slicing bit by bit through the faith inside Miko that was already riddled with holes.
"When the law cannot bring justice, power is the more efficient justice. What the master does is use absolute power to execute absolute efficiency."
Case after case played out before her eyes, day after day.
Using illegal means to bring punishment upon those criminals hiding beneath the umbrella of the law's protection.
Using dark logic to realize those bright, yet seemingly unreachable goals.
She was like a patient strapped down to an operating table, forced to watch with open eyes as her own brain was sliced open, piece by piece, and then injected with a "new justice."
Her eyes shifted from the initial defiance and rage, slowly into confusion and pain.
Then, into numbness.
And finally, settled into an eerie, calm... acceptance.
...
Inside the study.
Seiji Fujiwara's fingertips traced lightly across the folder Miko Iino had carried in, filled with every kind of radical reform proposal.
He could feel the "flame of justice" in the girl's heart, naive though it was, burning with an unmatched heat.
Now, this flame was being reshaped and tempered by him, with an entirely new fuel.
One day, it would burn even more fiercely than before.
And far more... controllable.
[Ding!]
The cold notification sound of the system rang out, right on cue, in his mind.
[Congratulations, Host, for conquering Miko Iino.]
[Calculating rewards...]
[Congratulations, Host. Received exclusive reward: Passive Skill, Voice of Order.]
[Skill Description: The host's voice will carry a powerful psychic intimidation effect, originating from the position of a superior. When conversing with those of weak will or lower station, it will more easily shatter their psychological defenses, causing them to instinctively obey your commands.]
"Voice of Order..."
The corners of Seiji's mouth curled into a satisfied arc.
He tried it. Speaking to the empty room in a calm tone, he said softly:
"Bring me a glass of water."
His voice had barely fallen.
The door of the study was pushed open without a sound.
Ai Hayasaka, dressed in a shameful maid's outfit, walked in with her head lowered, carrying a glass of water at exactly the right temperature, and reverently brought it over to him, holding it out to his hand.
Throughout the whole process, she had not even asked, "Master, do you require this?"
As though Seiji's words just now had not been a piece of muttering to himself, but a direct, unopposable command ringing out in the depths of her soul.
Seiji took the glass and drank a sip.
Good.
This skill had brought him one step closer to a "god" whose word becomes law.
He turned his eyes toward the window.
This residence was large.
But lately, he had begun to find it... somewhat crowded.
Ai Hayasaka, Kei Shirogane, and now another, Miko Iino...
These fascinating "collectibles" of his were growing more numerous.
To always play with the same toys in the same place, even a god would begin to feel a touch of tedium.
It was time to try a new way of playing.
In his mind surfaced Kaguya Shinomiya's face, cold and proud.
And those eyes of hers, growing more fragile by the day after losing Ai Hayasaka, filled with despair and helplessness.
This perfect jewel, after enduring such a long period of isolation and terror, should by now have an internal structure brittle enough.
The time had come.
It was time to carry out the final harvest.