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As the power to the induction cooker clicked off, the last wisps of mouthwatering steam faded from the pot. Their hearty sukiyaki dinner finally came to an end.
Stuffed and satisfied, the living room slipped into a lazy, comfortable quiet.
"Phew… The Tyrant's Eye has fully recharged. The abyssal hunger has been completely suppressed!"
Rikka Takanashi sprawled across the sofa without a shred of dignity, patting her slightly rounded belly in pure contentment.
But then—her gaze drifted, just for a moment, to the book sitting on the coffee table.
First-Year High School Math Lesson Plans.
Her body froze.
Behind the eyepatch, her right eye seemed to glimpse a terrifying future—one of after-school tutoring, of endless formulas dragging her into a bottomless abyss.
"Ah! This is bad! I'm receiving an urgent distress signal from the Dark Flame Master!"
Rikka shot upright like she'd been electrocuted. In one smooth motion, she grabbed her schoolbag and backed toward the entryway, shouting as she went:
"Holy Chef, the dark crusade is about to begin! I must return to base and deploy the barrier at once! Lucian, we'll renegotiate the homework tutoring contract another day—farewell!"
Before anyone could respond—bang! The door flew open and slammed shut.
The self-proclaimed wielder of the Tyrant's Eye fled faster than a rabbit, vanishing into the neighboring apartment in the blink of an eye.
Watching her retreat, Lucian could only shake his head with a helpless smile.
That girl really had a whole arsenal of excuses for avoiding reality.
Meanwhile, Sora Kasugano—sitting on the other side—had finally hit her limit.
To gain the upper hand in tonight's "Little Sister Defense Battle," she had forced herself to eat most of a papaya and chug down a big glass of hot milk.
Now that she was full, drowsiness hit her like a wave.
"Luu… I'm sleepy…"
Sora rubbed her heavy-lidded eyes and let out a small yawn.
She wobbled to her feet, walked over to Lucian, and tugged lightly at his sleeve out of habit. Then she turned toward Tōka, who was busy clearing the table, and spoke in a soft, sleepy voice—like a kitten marking its territory:
"Luu… after Tōka leaves, you have to go to bed right away. No staying up late. And don't secretly message other women… got it?"
"Alright, alright. Go take a shower and get some sleep. You've got school early tomorrow." Lucian chuckled, ruffling her soft silver hair.
Sora nodded obediently and headed to the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of running water echoed out. A little while later, she changed into her pink silk pajamas, went straight to her room, and closed the door.
With both girls gone, the once lively living room fell completely quiet.
Now, only Lucian and Takanashi Tōka remained.
"Rikka's been spoiled rotten," Tōka sighed, her expression as cool as ever, though her tone carried the familiar mix of exasperation and affection of an older sister. "She avoids studying, and she doesn't even help clean up after meals."
She tightened her apron, stacking the empty plates and bowls before carrying them into the open kitchen.
"Don't say that, Miss Tōka. Rikka's actually pretty smart—she just doesn't put her mind to studying."
Of course Lucian wasn't about to let a guest do all the work alone.
He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, stepped up beside her at the sink, and naturally took over washing the dishes and cleaning the counter.
Warm water flowed from the tap, rinsing away grease and leftovers.
The kitchen filled with nothing but the soft rush of water and the light clink of porcelain.
Standing beside him, Tōka dried each clean plate with a cloth and set them neatly in the rack.
They worked in perfect sync, as if they'd done this countless times before. The air carried a quiet, comforting sense of everyday life.
Under the warm, dim lighting, Tōka's usually sharp and elegant features softened.
The strict, no-nonsense chef of a French restaurant only ever seemed to let her guard down like this around Lucian.
"By the way, Mr. Lucian," she said, wiping down the counter as she turned slightly toward him, her gaze calm and gentle. "How are you finding work? Settling in okay?"
Only after asking did she realize she'd already brought this up before.
But something about this moment… it felt like they were a family.
Cooking together.
Cleaning up together.
"I'm adjusting pretty well," Lucian replied, handing her the washed chopsticks. "The students in my class all have… distinct personalities, but the environment at Sōbu High is actually pretty good. Honestly, compared to the dry, repetitive data work I used to do in the lab, this kind of lively campus life suits me a lot better."
Tōka gave a small nod.
She knew just how absurd his résumé was.
A nineteen-year-old prodigy, famous across top academic institutions, suddenly becoming a homeroom teacher at a high school—it didn't make sense no matter how you looked at it.
But looking into his calm, steady eyes, she knew this neighbor of hers—this young man far more mature than his years—understood exactly what he was doing.
"That's good, then."
She hung up the cloth, untied her apron, and turned to face him, her expression carrying the earnest concern of an older sister.
"But being a high school teacher is a lot more demanding than it seems. You've got Sora to take care of, and all those students at school. There are bound to be times when you can't juggle everything perfectly."
She paused, her tone softening.
"We've been neighbors for so long… You and Sora are like family to me. If you ever run into trouble—whether it's work or personal stuff—you can talk to me anytime. Don't feel awkward about it, okay?"
Her unreserved concern warmed something deep in Lucian's chest.
"Thanks, Miss Tōka."
"If I ever run into something I can't handle, I definitely won't hold back. After all, if you hadn't been bringing us food all these years, Sora and I probably would've gotten sick of takeout ages ago."
"Cut it out," Tōka said, though a faint smile finally appeared on her face. "It's nothing special."
Then Lucian steered the conversation back on track.
"By the way, about Rikka—you don't need to worry too much. Now that I'm her homeroom teacher, I'll take responsibility. I'll personally keep an eye on her attitude and grades. I guarantee she'll pass math this semester."
Hearing that, Tōka visibly relaxed.
"With you saying that, I feel a lot better. That girl's head is full of nonsense about invisible boundaries all day. I've tried hitting her, scolding her—nothing works. I'll be counting on you to keep her in line at school. And if she turns in blank papers again, don't go easy on her. Punish her however you see fit."
They chatted a bit more about Rikka's future and academic plans before Tōka checked the time and stood to leave.
After seeing her off, Lucian locked the door and checked the windows.
The apartment fell completely silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock.
It was already past ten at night.
For most people—especially office workers and teachers—the perfect end to a long day would be a hot shower and collapsing into bed.
But Lucian didn't head for the bedroom.
Instead, he turned and walked into his private study.
He locked the door behind him, drew the heavy blackout curtains, and pushed aside all the high school lesson plans on his desk.
"...Haa."
Taking a slow breath, he focused his thoughts.
A faint ripple of silver shimmered above his palm.
Then, one by one, several items materialized out of thin air on the desk—each radiating a subtle, mysterious aura.
A brush with a charred-black handle, faintly crackling with the energy of lightning—the Hundred-Year Lightning-Struck Wood Spirit Brush.
A box of cinnabar, vivid as fresh blood, brimming with pure yang energy—Top-Grade Consecrated Vermilion Ink.
And a neatly stacked bundle of yellow talisman paper, its surface faintly glowing—Premium Talisman Paper.
These were the top-tier materials he'd purchased earlier that day from the Myriad Worlds Shop using his points.
Lucian sat down at the desk, his gaze sharpening as he opened the golden, legendary item he had just obtained—
The True Explanation of Taoist Talisman Diagrams.
"....."