The elevator doors slide open on the first floor, and Ryoma steps out without a word. Reika follows quickly, matching his pace as they move toward the lobby.
"Ryoma," she says, her voice tight but controlled, "my father isn't trying to exploit you. He wants to help you succeed. You need to trust him a little."
"I know," Ryoma replies, still walking.
Reika frowns, frustration building. "Then why?" she presses. "Why give him a condition like that? A one-year ultimatum? No one can promise that."
Ryoma keeps his eyes forward. "Because your father won't be the one who contracts me," he says evenly. "Someone else will. In another country. In another system. I'll have to move, and I can't just hand my life over to someone I've only met once."
They reach the lobby, the space bright with afternoon light. Ryoma pushes open the glass door to the outside.
"That clause is the only thing that guarantees I still own my life," he continues.
