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Chapter 78 - Chapter 78. The Workshop of Vengeance

The two of them stopped outside Jahy's door. Masao rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Jahy, you up? I'm coming in."

A moment passed before her voice filtered through.

"Enter. The door is unlocked. I am busy and can't be bothered."

Masao turned the handle and stepped inside.

Jahy's room had accumulated more personality since she'd first arrived.

She'd even swiped several of Masao's collectible figurines to adorn her shelves, claiming they helped her recapture the feeling of being the center of attention like back in the Demon World. Scattered among them were clothes and basic necessities bought by Masao's parents.

Jahy was hunched over her desk, her back to the door, utterly engrossed in some project.

Masao walked over to see what had her so captivated.

She was surrounded by a chaotic assortment of disposable chopsticks, tape, glue, rubber bands, and other junk, her small hands working furiously.

"What's all this?" he asked. "A school project?"

"A project?" Jahy shot him a scathing look, her pride clearly wounded. "I am forging a weapon! A weapon, you understand? Its power is immense—one could say it is capable of destroying the world! Once it is complete, I will find that damn crow and teach it a lesson. Now, do not disturb me."

'Honestly,' she fumed internally, 'he has no sense of occasion. Can he not see the magnitude of my undertaking?'

Masao eyed the so-called "weapon"—a rickety contraption of chopsticks and cardboard, held together by a small mountain of tape and globs of glue. It was as pathetic an excuse for an armament as he had ever seen.

He couldn't suppress a snort of laughter.

"You… you call that a weapon? Hahaha! If that counts as a weapon, you could conquer the world with a kitchen knife!"

Even the ever-composed Yukinoshita, who had been quietly observing, let out a soft, muffled chuckle, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

"Hah! You dare look down upon my creation?" Jahy seethed. "Do you have the courage to test its might?"

Masao grinned, puffing out his chest and patting his stomach with overblown confidence.

"Be my guest. Give it your best shot. Aim right here."

"Heh. You will regret your mockery."

Jahy didn't hesitate. She raised her weapon, leveled it at Masao's abdomen, and let out a fierce cry.

"Taste my fury!"

With a thwip, a sharpened disposable chopstick shot out. It struck his stomach with a faint tap and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

Masao rubbed the spot. "Felt like a mosquito bite. A little itchy, that's all."

Jahy scrambled to pick up the fallen projectile, her face a mask of confusion.

"Why is the power so negligible? It shouldn't have pierced his stomach, but it should have at least left him writhing in agony on the floor!"

She appraised the weapon, then pointed it at her own arm, a glint of scientific curiosity in her eyes.

"Never mind. If it cannot injure him, it surely cannot harm me. I must make further improvements."

"Alright, that's enough time wasted on that piece of junk," Masao said, intercepting her before she could retreat back into her tinkering. "It's time for your studies."

"I refuse!" Jahy declared, planting her feet. "Today, I must make a proper weapon to exact vengeance on that crow!"

Masao glanced at Yukinoshita, seeking her opinion.

Yukinoshita considered it for a moment.

"Jahy is a fast learner. She has already grasped most of the exam material and should achieve a good score." A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. "Furthermore, modern education does place importance on developing practical skills. Spending some time on handicrafts… ahem, on weapon development… isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"Yukinoshita is the best!" Jahy cheered, immediately sticking her tongue out at Masao in a gesture of triumph.

Seeing he was outnumbered, Masao threw his hands up in surrender.

Half an hour later, the living room had been transformed into a workshop.

"Hey, Masao, you're using too many of my materials!" Jahy accused, pointing a finger.

"Can't be helped. My weapon is just more mechanically complex," he replied, not looking up from his work.

"Hah! You arrogant fool! My weapon is clearly superior in its elegant simplicity!"

"You wanna put them to the test later?"

"Hmph! I am not afraid! You, who merely copies designs from the internet, could never surpass my original creation!"

After agreeing to let Jahy continue, Masao had found his own competitive spirit ignited.

Yukinoshita, whose primary goal of getting him to pass his exams had already been met, saw no harm in it. A little creative diversion was good for the mind.

Masao was following an online tutorial that taught how to make paper guns—pistols, rifles, even sawed-off shotguns—using rubber bands for propulsion. He'd chosen a relatively simple pistol design.

"Simple" was a relative term, however. The process involved meticulously pre-fabricating numerous paper components before assembly. It was finicky work.

Fortunately, he had an unexpected assistant.

Yukinoshita, her interest piqued by the engineering challenge, had stepped in to help. With her deft, precise fingers, the construction of Masao's weapon progressed at a remarkable pace.

"This part should go here… Why doesn't it fit?" Masao muttered, frowning at the pieces. "Maybe if I just force it—"

"Wait, you are doing it incorrectly," Yukinoshita interjected smoothly, stopping his hand before he could apply brute force. "This component needs to be angled like this."

She took the part from him and slotted it into place with an effortless click.

"Oh, I see. So the next step is…"

They both leaned in over the phone screen, their heads close together as they scrutinized the instructions.

"It should be like this. Yukinoshita, can you hold this part steady for me?"

"Of course. Be careful not to crease it."

There is a certain, easy immersion that comes with a shared, hands-on task. Engrossed in their creation, neither Masao nor Yukinoshita noticed the diminishing space between them.

As they passed components and collaborated on the assembly, the occasional brush of their hands or touch of their shoulders went entirely unremarked, lost in the focus of the moment.

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