As the world watched the broadcast, the insults directed at the silver-haired girl faltered. A brief, awkward silence rippled through the crowds in the Royal Capital. She hadn't ignored the boy; she had saved him despite her own urgent mission. But within seconds, the cynicism of the masses surged back to fill the void.
"She wasn't trying to save him! She just wanted to show off her power to a commoner!"
"Exactly! A typical move for someone with that face!"
While the praise was non-existent, the sheer vitriol had lessened—if only by a fraction.
In the alleyway, the girl didn't chase the fleeing thugs. Instead, she turned a concerned gaze toward Ayanokoji, checking for injuries. His strange attire caught her eye. 'A foreigner?' she wondered. She assumed his lack of movement during the confrontation was due to paralyzed fear.
She had almost lost the trail of the thief who stole her insignia, but the sound of Ayanokoji's plea for help had drawn her back.
"Are you hurt?" she asked softly.
"No," the man named Kiyotaka Ayanokoji replied. His voice was flat, his face a featureless mask. He showed no lingering fear, nor any visible spark of gratitude toward his savior.
"Honestly, we just saved your life, and not even a 'thank you'?" The cat-like creature floating in front of Emilia's palm drifted toward Ayanokoji's face. This sight defied every law of physics and biology Ayanokoji knew.
"My apologies," Ayanokoji said, his voice as calm as ever. "Rather than gratitude, my initial reaction was shock. I didn't expect a cat to be capable of speech." He claimed shock, yet his pulse remained steady. He was simply curious about the biological nature of the creature.
"You've never seen a Spirit before? Well, you look like a traveler from some backwater land, so I suppose it's normal. Since you don't seem to harbor any ill will, I'll give you my name. I'm Puck," the spirit announced.
'A Spirit?' Ayanokoji's eyes narrowed slightly. A creature from myth was standing before him. He shifted his gaze to the girl, catching a detail he had missed: beneath her silver hair, the tips of her ears were distinctly pointed. Not human.
Relieved that he wasn't injured, the girl hesitated for a moment. "What is your name?"
Ayanokoji introduced himself, and after a few seconds of internal debate, the girl replied: "I am... Satella."
She didn't give her real name. Instead, she offered a forbidden one—the name of the Witch of Envy who had once nearly consumed the world. She chose it as a shield, hoping the boy would flee from her. To be associated with that name in the Royal Capital was a social death sentence. For a traveler, it would make life impossible. She was trying to protect him from herself.
"She dared to speak that name!"
"Blasphemy!"
"Proof! She is linked to the Witch!"
The crowds in Lugunica erupted in fury, completely ignoring the girl's protective intent.
"That was a clumsy move, Lia," Puck remarked, sitting on Emilia's shoulder in the real world. Emilia bit her lip, overwhelmed by the realization that her "lie" was being broadcast to every living soul. The hostility toward her was about to get much worse.
Ayanokoji's eyes thinned. He had noted the hesitation before she spoke. Her micro-expressions and the sheer shock on Puck's face made it clear: 'Satella' was a lie, and likely a dangerous one. He didn't call her out on it.
"I see. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a slight nod.
The girl's amethyst eyes widened. She expected terror, or at least a reflexive step back. His total lack of reaction was the most unexpected response she could have received.
"Did he see through it that easily?"
In the real world, Emilia's cheeks flushed like blooming cherry blossoms. "Am I really that bad at lying?"
"Yes, Lia. Terribly," Puck chuckled.
"And you, Ayanokoji? Where are you from?" the girl asked, her curiosity piqued by this man who showed her no malice.
"A remote country. It's of no consequence," he replied smoothly, concealing his status as a transmigrator to avoid unnecessary variables.
In a sprawling estate on the borders of the Kingdom, a man with the makeup of a clown sat in a lush garden. Steam rose from an exquisite teacup in his hand.
Roswaal L. Mathers, Margrave of Lugunica, smiled—a sharp, fox-like expression.
"A visitor from another world meets Emilia... finally, the moment I've been waiting for. This is a revelation of the future. Let us see how the board develops."
"Anyway," the girl said, her tone shifting to a forced sternness. "Did you see the girl who stole my things? Since I saved you, I expect a return on that favor! Don't misunderstand—I only helped you so I could get information!"
"I saw her," Ayanokoji said. "But based on her agility and speed, you won't catch her on foot."
He saw through her act instantly. Her 'acting' was amateurish. She hadn't helped him for information; she had helped him because she was a 'good person.' To Ayanokoji, such unconditional kindness was the most difficult concept to grasp. In a single conversation, he had categorized her: she was a simple girl. And the simple are the easiest to manipulate.
"I see..." Her shoulders slumped. "Thank you for the information. We're even now." She tilted her chin up, refusing to admit she had helped him out of pure altruism.
As she turned to leave, Ayanokoji's voice drifted through the alley. "Perhaps I can offer some assistance."
"Maybe he isn't as cold as he looks," Emilia whispered to herself, watching the vision.
Back in the classroom, Horikita turned to the real Ayanokoji with wide eyes. "You... helping someone? Voluntarily?"
"It's just a video," Ayanokoji repeated. "I have no desire to get involved in trouble."
On the surface, he looked as disinterested as ever. But internally, he knew exactly why his other self was doing this.
The girl stopped, her amethyst eyes shimmering with surprise. Few people ever offered her help. "You've already paid your debt. We're even." Her arrogant tone was merely a mask for her kindness—she didn't want this stranger to face the risks of her mission.
"If I owe a debt, I prefer to see it through," Ayanokoji said. His tone was lazy, yet firm. He had already dissected her thoughts. "I saw the girl's face. If I see her again, I'll recognize her. Without me, you're looking for a needle in a haystack."
The girl bit her lip, weighing his words. He was right. Without a lead, her insignia was gone. "Fine. I suppose I'll accept your help."
"If we're to work together, tell me your real name," Ayanokoji said, his gaze seemingly peering straight into her soul.
"I..." A blush crept onto her cheeks. She realized he had seen through her from the start. "Emilia. My name is Emilia."
Ayanokoji watched her with a face like a windless sea.
His decision to help had nothing to do with kindness. It was an investment. Navigating a new world with a native guide was infinitely more efficient than wandering alone. Emilia was transparent and easy to read—the perfect tool. With a few calculated nudges, she would move exactly where he needed her to go.
Trained as an elite from childhood, Ayanokoji was a master of psychological leverage. Just as he had done in Class D—quietly pushing Horikita into the spotlight while he pulled the strings from the shadows—his goal was never her benefit. It was his own utility.