Chapter 251: Rowe: I will take the initiative
"Mr. Rowe, that's very unkind."
Hearing Rowe laugh, Manaka barely reacted.
She did not feel embarrassed. She did not get angry.
At most, there was a thin edge of irritation, the kind that came from missing the exact outcome she had wanted.
She silently released his hand.
"You're the unkind one," Rowe said, letting out a slow breath.
Abi tilted her head, still lost. "Not playing the game anymore? And what kind of game was it?"
Then her gaze flicked to the two new arrivals.
"Are the Big Sisters here to play too?"
"No," Ishtar said with grave seriousness. "I am here to report a crime."
She did not even have a communication device in her hand.
Rowe ignored her performance, leaned down, and gently ruffled Abigail's hair.
"Game next time. Go play for now."
Then he looked at Manaka.
Manaka eyes curved, and her tone grew sweet. "Another woman again. Mister Rowe really does keep many women around him…"
Her words cut off.
Rowe interrupted without mercy. "Do not try to dig a hole for me. Social death does not count as death."
"But it is very interesting," Manaka said, smiling brightly.
Being near Rowe made her amused.
Small, petty collisions of speech and intent, the kind ordinary people called banter, were enough to make her feel emotional fluctuations she had never truly experienced before.
Rowe hesitated for a moment, then spoke as if assigning a simple task.
"Manaka. Take Abi to play nearby for a while."
"What is so fun about that…"
Manaka began to refuse, but then she met Abigail's gaze.
The last syllable died in her throat.
Rowe was the only person who gave her that strange, undeniable sense of the world being real.
But Abigail, as a representative of the Great Old Ones, was also shrouded in a dense fog even to someone linked to the Root.
One gave her reality.
The other amused her.
If going along prevented Rowe from being irritated and kept the atmosphere smooth, she did not mind indulging the lesser curiosity.
"Fine," Manaka said lightly. "Let's go."
She took Abigail's hand, the gentleness in her expression arriving so naturally it looked practiced. In an instant, she stepped into the role of a responsible older sister, the same attitude she once used when she still played seriously with Manaka.
Even though Manaka herself looked slimmer and more delicate than Abi.
"I can play with you," Manaka said softly. "Your name is Abigail, right?"
"Yes," Abigail replied, bright as a bell. "My name is Abigail Williams. You can call me Abi."
"Abi," Manaka said, her tone warm, "shall I take you to an amusement park?"
"Okay. Thank you, Manaka!"
Their childish voices faded into the distance.
Unlike Manaka, Abigail had died at twelve or thirteen. Even in her normal state, her mind was not much older than her appearance, and she came from an era separated from the present by centuries.
It was natural that everything here felt new.
Ereshkigal watched them go and murmured, almost fondly, "Two very cute children."
Ishtar clicked her tongue, still annoyed. "Ereshkigal, thanks for helping me just now."
"Helping you?" Ereshkigal blinked, honestly puzzled. "I was telling the truth."
Then she paused, her expression turning even more sincere.
"Is that child not very smart?"
"…"
Rowe stared at her for a second.
He had assumed she had cut Manaka open with a casual insult and revealed something rotten inside.
Instead it was simply natural darkness.
Rowe could not help smiling.
Ereshkigal and Ishtar's arrival had been sudden, but he had been prepared for it for a long time.
When he faced the Great Old Ones, he stopped concealing himself. Anyone with sufficient sensitivity, Heroic Spirits and goddesses included, would naturally notice his presence.
Still, Ereshkigal arriving first genuinely surprised him.
And pleased him.
After all, if it was her, there was little to fear.
With her personality, awkwardness rarely lasted long enough to become dangerous.
Ereshkigal tilted her head at him. "Long time no see, Rowe."
"Hey, hey, hey. Do not ignore me!" Ishtar shouted immediately, furious at being treated like background noise.
Rowe squinted at her. "Oh. You're still alive."
"What do you mean, still alive?" Ishtar bared her teeth. "You still have not paid me back what you owe!"
"Owe you?" Rowe asked, genuinely blank.
Ishtar thrust a hand out toward him, palm open and demanding.
"Hurry up. Pay the reward you promised!"
Rowe's eyes lit with belated understanding. "Ah. That."
"Exactly! That!"
Rowe nodded slowly. "Which one?"
"…!"
Ishtar's expression froze.
Rowe chuckled. "After all these years, your intelligence still has not improved."
It sounded like a compliment until you listened to it twice.
"You are still as punchable as ever!"
"And you still cannot beat me."
Ishtar choked on her own fury.
Ereshkigal's crimson eyes moved between them, and she suddenly laughed, unable to stop herself.
"Rowe has not changed at all," she said, amused.
"Neither have you," Rowe replied, gaze sweeping over Ereshkigal, then Ishtar.
Ishtar puffed her cheeks. "Hmph. Do not look at me. I have changed a lot. Now I can beat the old you until you are crawling around looking for your teeth."
Ereshkigal pressed her lips together, cheeks faintly pink. Her voice softened.
"To make you recognize me, to let you feel familiar when you return, of course I could not change…"
Ishtar stared.
When did her sister become so eloquent?
Ereshkigal continued with quiet pride, as if answering a question only she could hear.
"It was when you were not paying attention. Do you think everyone is as unmotivated as you? I have always been diligent."
"My Ereshkigal," Ishtar repeated automatically, then snapped, "What do you mean, your Ereshkigal?"
Rowe took Ereshkigal's hand.
Ereshkigal's face flushed further, but she did not pull away.
She intertwined her fingers with his, looking straight into his eyes.
Ishtar's irritation surged into something sharper.
"Can you two not be so blatant?"
"This is not a place to talk," Rowe said calmly. "Let's find somewhere to sit and eat."
"I will listen to Rowe," Ereshkigal said at once.
"Hmph. You claim to be so strong, and you still need to eat."
"You can choose not to follow," Rowe replied.
"How could I not?" Ishtar shot back. "You owe me so much, I will eat you out of house and home."
Shibuya had just suffered an Outer God incident.
And yet for most people, it had been nothing more than a strange dream.
The streets returned to their usual prosperity. Damage that should have been impossible to repair had already been restored by the mysterious administrators of the Spiral Hall East Asia Branch.
There were no casualties.
Those few who suffered mental collapse had their memories pruned quickly, removing the seed of madness before it could bloom.
This time it was handled more smoothly than any previous incident.
Still, for Wuzhiqi, the Spiral Hall Immortal who had just arrived from the Divine Land and was assigned to guard East Asia, it was vexing.
Not because the danger had been high.
Because the branch members who collapsed inside the mist woke up unharmed, with only one thing missing.
Their memories.
That was not the work of the Six Heavens Ancient Ghosts.
So what did they encounter?
What did they see?
Why did the pruning become necessary?
At the top of Tokyo Tower, in a location that could overlook all of Tokyo and much of East Asia, yet existed as a sealed place no ordinary person could reach, the Spiral Hall East Asia Branch remained silent.
Wuzhiqi, pale long hair draping down, stood before a floor to ceiling glass window. Sunlight illuminated her white slip dress, and her face, half hidden behind her hair, carried a solemn calm.
Arms crossed, posture straight, she looked like a blade being kept in a sheath.
"It seems you are troubled, Wuzhiqi."
A crisp feminine voice spoke from her side, cool and strangely mechanical.
"Are you troubled by what happened to those people?"
Wuzhiqi sighed. "When I came from the Divine Land, Yu told me Rowe might still be here."
"Lord Rowe?" The newcomer froze. "Is he His Majesty the Heavenly Emperor?"
"You still remember that name, Nezha."
"Of course. It is impossible to forget."
The voice still had a mechanical quality, but emotion had slipped through.
The speaker wore a female form. Long reddish brown hair. A long robe traced with dark red patterns. The collar sat slightly open, showing a line of fair skin. Her build was athletic, heroic, and elegant rather than voluptuous. Her hands were pale as jade. Her boots carried flame patterns, and the entire silhouette felt like a divine weapon given a human outline.
Nezha.
The famed Young Divine General. Grand Marshal of the Central Altar. Great God of the Three Altars and Sea Assembly.
At the same time, she was also the Divine Land Immortal who had guarded East Asia before Wuzhiqi.
Not her main body.
A clone.
The same as Wuzhiqi here.
Nezha looked at Wuzhiqi and asked bluntly, "Are you still not going to let your main body emerge?"
Wuzhiqi's expression turned helpless. "That monkey is still around."
Nezha nodded with deep understanding.
Sun Wukong.
After Havoc in Heaven and the Journey to the West, he had long since achieved enlightenment, becoming the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and the Buddha of Victorious Fighting. His specification was nearly primordial, in a sense equal to the sky itself.
That was far above Wuzhiqi, a mere Demon Saint.
Even if he rarely paid attention to her now, Wuzhiqi did not dare gamble.
"Let's not talk about that." Wuzhiqi shook her head as if shaking him out of her mind. "Are you planning to go back?"
"No." Nezha considered it. "If the Heavenly Emperor is here, I should pay my respects."
Wuzhiqi's eyes lit up. "You know where he is?"
"I do not," Nezha said without concern. "But if he is still in East Asia, we will find him eventually."
Wuzhiqi nodded, equally convinced. "True. How big is East Asia, anyway?"
What neither of them knew was that Rowe, at this very moment, was practically under their gaze.
In a five star hotel near Tokyo Tower, soft lighting filled a spacious private room.
Dishes arrived one after another.
Ishtar Rin stared at the spread and swallowed.
"Ereshkigal, try this!"
"Mm. Rowe, you should eat too."
"I will," Rowe said. "Human cuisine is exceptional."
Ishtar seethed internally.
Do not ignore me. Where is my portion?
Rowe finally looked at her. "Hungry?"
"If you beg, I am not saying I cannot eat a little…"
"Then you can go hungry."
"…!"
Of course, teasing was teasing.
Rowe did not actually stop her. Another serving soon arrived, and Ishtar's anger softened into appetite.
Since he was in human form, he lived like a human. That had always been his principle.
He never believed power meant detachment. He enjoyed food, enjoyed warmth, enjoyed the harmless edges of daily life.
It was also something he lacked.
In theory, a being like him should have mastered every ordinary skill by sheer time.
In practice, Rowe had always struggled with cooking.
At first it was pure lack of talent.
Later, it was the chaos core. His attempts at cooking carried an odd, irrational variance. He could eat it. He doubted anyone else would survive it.
Watching Ereshkigal and Ishtar enjoy their meal, Rowe smiled.
He told Ereshkigal what happened after leaving Great Qin.
He teased Ishtar when the opportunity presented itself.
He hid nothing, including the Heroic Spirits and deities tied to him.
"What a philanderer," Ishtar mocked.
Ereshkigal only smiled. "The one I love is outstanding."
Ishtar felt out of place, but she could not deny it.
Ereshkigal also knew what Rowe truly was. Greedy, yes, but not careless.
He did not abandon bonds.
He did not walk away irresponsibly.
Even if what waited ahead was abyss, even if it was purgatory, he still tried to give happiness to everyone he touched.
That self sacrificing gentleness was exactly why she fell for him in the first place.
How could she reject him now?
After several rounds of dishes, Rowe set down his chopsticks.
"You two keep eating. I'm going to wash my hands."
Ishtar almost commented that he could do it with magecraft, then realized he was already gone.
She looked at Ereshkigal, still happily focused on the food, then stood and followed.
The hotel corridor was quiet, feet sinking into soft carpet.
She tracked him toward the restroom.
Cool water ran.
Rowe washed his hands like an ordinary man, movement precise and unhurried, not a hint of the existence that could crack the world.
Then he turned.
And the figure in front of him shoved him into a stall.
Rowe ended up sitting on the toilet lid, more annoyed than surprised.
A clear, triumphant voice rang out.
"I've got my chance, haven't I?"
Rowe tapped the partition, helpless. "What do you crazy women want now? This is the men's restroom."
"Do you think I care?"
Ishtar Rin leaned close, crimson eyes locked on him.
"That debt. Pay it back. Now."
Rowe opened his mouth to respond.
Ishtar kissed him and stole the sentence.
For Ishtar, this was repayment.
Not treasure.
Not a promised reward.
Not anything she could hold in her hands.
It was the obsession that had taken root on a shoreline over four thousand years ago, the infatuation she carried like a curse that refused to fade.
The waiting.
The stubbornness.
The insistence that the world owed her what she wanted.
The stall was cramped. Breath tangled with breath.
Rowe's hand lifted, a reflexive attempt to create distance.
Then a voice called from outside.
"Rowe? Ishtar?"
Ereshkigal.
Rowe stopped moving.
Ishtar pulled back just enough to whisper, triumphant and breathless, "Honestly. Pay back what you owe."
Her earlier irritation melted away, replaced by satisfaction sharp enough to cut.
"I am still a pure maiden," she declared, shamelessly proud. "Be grateful. You will be the first and only man of Mesopotamia's most beautiful goddess."
Rowe's eyes narrowed.
Ishtar's grin widened, as if she had read his reaction as surrender.
In that moment, she did not understand what she had actually touched.
And she certainly did not understand what would happen next.
Ereshkigal searched for a while and found nothing.
At last, confused, she returned to the private room.
Rowe was already seated there, waiting.
"Rowe, you're back?" Ereshkigal looked relieved, then puzzled. "Did you see Ishtar?"
"No," Rowe said calmly.
He did not hesitate.
"No."
"Maybe she went to wash her hands too," he added.
"Is that so…"
Ereshkigal remained confused, but she did not hear Ishtar's muffled fury from within the Imaginary Numbers Space.
Because after Ishtar got what she wanted, Rowe trapped her there with a casual motion.
For a star creating god who could sculpt planetary environments, producing a temporary Imaginary Numbers Space was trivial.
Ishtar could still see Rowe and Ereshkigal through a narrow crack.
She could only see.
She could not reach.
"Do not worry," Rowe said. "Sit down."
"Mm."
Ereshkigal sat.
Not across from him, but beside him.
"It is more comfortable here," she said, smiling. "Rowe's scent is still so warm."
When she noticed his gaze, her face flushed, but she did not look away.
Rowe pulled her close and kissed her first.
Their lips parted.
Ereshkigal whispered near his ear, voice trembling. "Rowe… is this still your first time? Is it because of our Servant status?"
Rowe went silent.
Then he pressed Ereshkigal down, familiar with her in a way that did not need explanation.
The private room was well soundproofed.
Nothing leaked out.
In the crack of the Imaginary Numbers Space, Ishtar stared, eyes wet.
Can you consider my feelings?
And then she realized something else.
She could escape.
She could not before, but now, as one of the twin divinities of Mount Tai and Houtu, she could.
Mount Tai governed yin and yang.
Yin and yang were life and death, and also existence and nonexistence.
The boundary between the Imaginary Numbers Space and the present world was precisely that.
The window showed the city as day turned into night, lights blooming across Tokyo like a sea of stars.
Rowe stood by the glass, watching the modern skyline.
A clear voice reached him, carried through a connection formed by Manaka magecraft.
"It seems Mister Rowe's nightlife is quite rich."
Rowe tilted his eyes slightly and looked back.
The private room was spacious.
For some reason, it included a bed.
Ereshkigal and Ishtar Rin were resting there now, sheets in disarray, hair and clothing equally uncooperative.
Another round of madness.
Rowe had not resisted.
He exhaled.
"Maybe it is also an attempt."
He had avoided it before. He had explained. He had deflected.
It did not matter.
Heroic Spirits and gods tied to him still gathered, drawn by bonds, by curiosity, by hunger.
It was like this in the past.
Now his location was exposed again.
It would be like this in the future too.
Retreat was useless.
So why not take the initiative?
Rowe stepped forward and pulled the quilt over them.
Then he turned to leave.
If you dared face the abyss, why would you fear the battlefield of love?
Manaka's voice carried a soft laugh.
"An attempt, hmm…"
"My Prince is indeed popular."
In the amusement park, under bright lights and noisy music, Manaka sat on a bench and tilted her head toward the vast night.
"I wonder," she murmured, "will I have a chance too?"
Her golden hair lifted in the evening breeze. Her light blue dress fluttered.
She smiled sweetly at Abigail, who was happily eating ice cream.
The wind carried distant sounds of news broadcasts, urgent and excited, as if the whole world had begun to move.
"King Arthur of Britannia has boarded a plane bound for the East!"
"Greek hero Atalanta has been spotted at a Greek airport, destination Tokyo!"
"Roman Emperor Nero Claudius announces the signing of a strategic alliance with Divine Land, and accepts Emperor Guangwu Liu Xiu's invitation to travel to the East together!"
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