With 223 countries and 223 distinct cultures—and even further subdivisions within every region of every nation—the sheer volume of books and knowledge in the real world far exceeded the fragments Sū ěr had spent the previous world wracking his brain to barely recall. This knowledge was complete, systematic, and lush, branching out like the dense canopy of a great tree, limbs interlocking with one another.
Think was currently soaking up this "moisture" called knowledge like a sponge. Far from finding it tedious, she reveled in it; from science and technology to literature and art, the Flugel sampled it all.
[Sū ěr?]
Feeling an inexplicable tightening in her chest, Think voiced her concern.
"Ah, it's nothing. I'll just ask the manager for some time off later. Once that youkai leaves, we'll follow him," Sū ěr decided, shaking his head to clear his wandering thoughts.
[Oh? Asking for leave right after getting a raise? Isn't that a bit... ill-timed?]
Sū ěr: "..."
Technically, she's right.
But he wasn't actually here for a career, was he?
Was he?
...Wait, was he?
"Fine, I'll wait until after my shift then... I've already left a marker on him anyway," Sū ěr amended his decision.
[Heh~]
Think let out a soft, inscrutable chuckle. Sū ěr simply pretended not to hear it.
Though the phrase had been beaten to death in elementary school essays, time truly did fly when one was busy. At the very least, by the time Sū ěr let out a final, long stretch, Kisaki Mayumi had emerged to announce the end of the shift.
"I'm off. Be careful on the way back; don't get scammed out of your money again."
"Shutup. You're the one who needs to be careful."
After bidding his usual farewell to Maou Sadao and watching his new friend walk slowly toward the station, Sū ěr closed his eyes and focused on the marker he had placed... Found him.
With a casual turn, he stepped into the narrow gap between the buildings. In the next instant, he vanished.
He had a premonition: tonight would be the most interesting night he'd had since arriving in this era.
Where there are skyscrapers, there are bound to be traditional courtyards.
It was hard to imagine such a classic, antiquated building existing in a city where every square inch of land was worth its weight in gold. However, considering the eccentricities of the ultra-wealthy, Sū ěr suddenly found it less surprising.
The pristine white walls bore faint traces of yellow dust. Despite numerous renovations, Sū ěr could tell this wasn't some pretentious modern replica of ancient architecture; it was a genuine historical structure with centuries of heritage. And the "Young Master" he had marked seemed to be inside this very courtyard.
This wasn't a protected landmark open to tourists; someone actually lived in this ancient manor.
From that perspective, the title "Young Master" used by that youkai wasn't a misnomer at all. He truly had the air of a scion from a prestigious family—even if he did seem a bit shy.
Sū ěr raised his hand to knock, but just as his knuckles were about to strike the gate, he pulled back. With a swift vault, he cleared the wall and entered.
"Strange. These youkai are clearly right here, so why didn't I notice them at all before?"
Sū ěr was puzzled. The moment he hopped the wall, he sensed dozens of youki [demon energy/spiritual pressure]. Without a doubt, this was a youkai stronghold—or at the very least, a vital nest. But with so many of them here, and given they didn't seem to be imprisoned or bound to the yard, they surely wandered the outside world... If so, why hadn't he detected a single trace of them when he scanned the area upon arriving in this era?
"They likely used a technique to conceal their presence. In the terminology of this country, it would be called a Kekkai [barrier]. That's why you didn't sense anything from outside the wall," Think speculated, reaching back to tap the courtyard wall behind them. "And haven't you noticed? These youkai are a bit odd compared to the ones we've encountered before."
"Odd?" Sū ěr asked, looking somewhat lost.
Even though Think had phrased it as a question, she had assumed Sū ěr had already picked up on the subtle discrepancies. But Sū ěr... well, he really hadn't.
"You mean they're more... human? More humane?" The man wracked his brains, trying his best to sound intelligent.
He was seen through immediately.
"...What is the definition of a youkai?" Think rolled her eyes in exasperation. Though she asked a question, it was purely rhetorical. "When Heaven rebels against time, it is a calamity; when Earth rebels against matter, it is a youkai. In other words, things that defy natural laws are 'yao'—but these creatures are different."
She's quoting! She's starting to quote classical prose!! Sū ěr shouted internally.
And she's quoting texts from across the sea!
It wasn't so much that she had become smarter during her tenure as the One True God; rather, she had been cheating using the authority of omniscience. Now that she had lost that power, Sū ěr had reverted to his original state, and Think knew it. The Flugel remained ever-convinced that a genius as brilliant as herself was a singular occurrence in the world, so she simply continued.
"I have already thoroughly researched your abilities. At the end of the day, you operate within the framework of the 'World.' But these youkai are different from the ones we met before," Think paused before continuing. "They no longer survive by defying natural laws. They have actually reversed course—they obey nature, viewing themselves as a part of it."
"I think I get it now," Sū ěr finally understood her meaning. "No wonder my usual method of scanning for 'anomalies' didn't turn up anything. They've integrated themselves into the world itself, haven't they? Like the wind or the rain."
"I'm not sure if they evolved—or devolved—into this state over a long period, or if they are just a specific class of youkai. I won't know for sure until I collect samples for study." Think had already begun floating toward the inner courtyard, gesturing for Sū ěr to follow. "Anyway, same as before: you need to capture some 'research material' for me."
Prompted by Think, Sū ěr finally noticed the blind spot. Now, as he specifically compared the youki drifting throughout the courtyard with his memories of the dim-witted youkai that used to charge his bamboo hut, or the youkai of Izumo, he finally detected the subtle difference.
If he had to use a simple analogy: the youki of youkai in this modern society felt "softer," like half-melted butter. If you pressed a finger into it, it wouldn't resist or leave a permanent dent like the youkai of his memories; instead, it would simply flow around and submerge the finger.