The light slowly faded.
A girl's silhouette came into focus.
She was stunningly beautiful.
Silky black hair fell straight like a waterfall down her back.
Her features looked as if carved from snow and ice, carrying a cool, distant allure that discouraged approach.
She was wearing Soubu High's standard uniform.
A fitted blazer with a pleated skirt outlined a slender, upright figure.
Between the skirt hem and the knee-highs, a modest sliver of pale skin showed—just enough to catch the eye, no more.
White-trimmed black knee-highs hugged her legs and disappeared into her simple round-toed shoes.
If there was any "imperfection," perhaps it was that she wasn't especially… voluptuous; somewhere around a modest B.
That chill aura paired with a breathtaking face etched itself into Zyhark's mind.
"Y—Yukinoshita Yukino?!"
He whispered under his breath.
Before crossing over, Zyhark had watched Oregairu.
Which was exactly why—
his sense of dissonance only grew stronger.
"Did… the System mess up?"
"Does she really have SSSR potential?"
The slim bookish girl before him looked like a stiff breeze might topple her.
Doubt welled up.
With that delicate build, wouldn't one decent punch knock her out cold?
If not a Fate-style Saber, at least someone with a bit of combat talent, right?
Why a leading lady from a grounded school romance?
Just then, her long lashes trembled like butterfly wings and slowly lifted, revealing clear, cool blue eyes like springwater.
Her gaze was hazy at first, then quickly focused, scanning this utterly unfamiliar room with alert wariness before locking onto the only other living being—Zyhark.
"Where is this?"
Her voice matched her look—cool, steady, naturally distant.
"And who are you?"
"I remember walking home from the library. How did I end up here?"
Zyhark drew a slow breath, arranging his face into something earnest and reliable.
"Easy."
"First—welcome to another world: the labyrinth city, Orario."
"Second—as you can see, I'm Zyhark, and I'm a god."
Another world?
A god?
Yukino's pretty blue eyes narrowed slightly.
Not a flicker of belief—only appraisal and suspicion.
Her face cooled further; when she spoke, it was the sharp, unvarnished truth she was known for:
"Ha? Looks like I've run into a serious criminal."
"The way your eyes roam is disgusting. I feel like I'm about to be violated."
"This is an inn room, isn't it?"
"First, unlawful confinement."
"And now you're trying to trick me with a setup so cheap even third-rate light novels wouldn't bother?"
She held herself tight, like she'd seen something filthy.
"If your goal is extortion—or to gratify some vulgar, base impulse—"
"I strongly suggest you stop now."
"My family will notice I'm missing. You won't escape the law."
"I'm not joking."
Zyhark's temples ached. Her rationality and vigilance far outstripped his expectations.
"You did cross a world barrier to get here."
"And I really am a god."
"So—join my [Familia]. Become my child."
"Proof?"
"As things stand, it reads like someone's deliberate setup."
Arms folded, Yukino cut him off, tone arctic.
"Then, Kami-sama."
"What miracle proves you're a deity and this place is another world?"
"For example—show that so-called 'divine power' of yours."
"Uh…"
Zyhark stalled.
In Orario, gods are strictly forbidden from using "Divine Power" in the Lower World. Iron law.
And the System's power wasn't something he could trot out as a stage trick.
That hesitation in Yukino's eyes only confirmed "fraud."
"So there isn't any."
She breathed out lightly and looked at him like non-recyclable trash.
"In that case, let's end this farce."
"Move. I'm leaving this unpleasant place."
Seeing her about to bolt, Zyhark hurried a step forward to block.
"Yukino, don't be so harsh! I'm a god at least—trust me a little?"
"Enough. Don't come closer. Don't speak. Don't say my name. Gross. Pathetic."
Revulsion flared from the bottom of her heart as she widened the distance.
She strode for the door with decisive posture, no hesitation at all.
Watching her pull the door open and go, Zyhark didn't chase immediately.
"What the hell? Spoiled much…"
"No wonder the System dodged that '100% recruit rate' question."
"SSSR my foot."
He clicked his tongue.
"In the old days I might've tried to forcely explain… but I'm a god now. That line of thinking is beneath me."
"Whatever. Let the sheltered rich girl see the city with her own eyes."
Once she saw sights modern Japan could never have—
and met the demi-human races— she'd realize he hadn't been spouting nonsense.
Then, once reality sank in, she'd come back.
A high-school girl alone in a place like this—where else could she go?
After all, the System only summoned her here; it never said it would send her back if he failed to recruit her.
With that conviction, he sat on the bed again and opened his System interface, studying how to grant [God's Grace], and what his future [Divine Office] and [Authority] could be.
"Let's see… what laws of heaven I might govern…"
Time trickled by.
Outside, Orario had fallen fully into night.
Magic-stone streetlamps and the far-off glow of the "Babel Tower" gilded the sky.
However— the knock he expected never came.
An hour passed.
Unease crept into Zyhark's chest.
For all its surface prosperity, Orario's alleys hid real danger.
A strangely dressed, unarmed girl wandering alone at night…
"Why isn't she back yet?"
"Don't tell me some creep lured her off…"
Right now Yukino was a blank page in this world.
If Freya—who could read souls—or the lecherous Loki took an interest, his SSSR card might be gone before it began.
"Damn!"
"Idiot!"
He sprang up, yanked the door open, and bolted out.
The street outside the inn still teemed with passersby of every race.
Zyhark scanned frantically.
No sign of that black-haired figure anywhere.
"Where did you go…"
Forcing himself to calm down, he fanned out from the inn, combing through nearby streets and alleys.
Finally— at the mouth of a narrow, dim side street not far from the inn, he heard a tiny, tightly stifled sob.
Thank goodness—
She's still here.
He softened his steps and edged toward a stack of crates deeper in the alley.
The cool, proud girl was curled up on the cold steps, arms wrapped tight around her knees, face buried in her sleeves as her thin shoulders trembled with quiet sobs.
In the hazy moonlight she looked so small, so helpless— like a kitten abandoned to a storm.
Every shell of strength she'd built had shattered against reality.
Yukino had tried to reason it out, to accept it, but the sights before her—
—the tower of "Babel" spearing the clouds,
—demi-humans of all shapes and features,
—an eclectic clash of foreign architectures,
—the air itself thick with strange languages and scents—
all of it vindicated his "absurd" claims.
A crushing culture shock—
fear of the unknown—
and a flood of homesickness—
swallowed her whole.
Zyhark walked to her and let his shadow fall across her.
Sensing someone approach, Yukino jerked her head up.
Tear tracks crisscrossed that delicate face; her cool blue eyes were swollen, full of confusion, fear—and a flicker of stubborn pride.
When she saw it was him, she tried to set her mask back in place and hold her dignity, but the tears kept rolling, betraying her heart.
Whatever irritation he'd felt at being doubted earlier burned away—leaving only apology and pity.
He bent down.
Offered his hand.
His voice, softer and steadier than ever:
"Let's go back."
Yukino stared at the hand, then looked into his eyes—now plain with sincerity.
Her tears fell harder.
She bit her lip, as if making an impossibly hard decision.
After a few seconds of silence, she finally placed her cold fingers in his palm, trembling just a little.
...
…
(End of Chapter)
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