This woman before him was perhaps the one who knew his secrets best in this world.
After all, he had been the one to seek her out in the first place—to find a solution to the Gastrea Virus.
Using his eyes to assist in the analysis.
It must be said that the ability to read information bodies was truly versatile. No matter the substance, as long as it fell within his scope of knowledge, he could analyze it thoroughly.
Whether observable or unobservable to humans, nothing could escape his eyes.
With his help, Muroto Sumire's research on the Gastrea virus had indeed made groundbreaking progress.
This woman even ventured a hypothesis—since his eyes could analyze and trace the information of any object, could they also overwrite it?
And if overwriting was possible, did that mean resurrection was achievable?
So much so that when he gave an affirmative answer back then, the woman immediately picked up a scalpel and slit her own throat on the spot.
She claimed she wanted to experience the sensation firsthand.
One could only say—what a madwoman.
Setting aside those not-so-pleasant memories, Mahiro placed the enhanced Suppressant aside and picked up the genetic enhancer, asking:
"What about this one?"
"Oh~ This is my proudest masterpiece. Based on your conjecture and analysis, Darling No. 2, I amplified the DNA-rewriting properties of the Gastrea virus, preserving its enhancement traits while suppressing the risks to a minimum."
"Minimum? Not completely eliminated?"
Hearing his question, Sumire smiled faintly. "Young man, everything in this world has two sides. Just like the Taoist saying from Huaxia, 'Lone yin cannot birth, lone yang cannot grow.' The perfect enhancement serum you're hoping for doesn't exist."
Mahiro naturally understood this principle—he had merely held onto a sliver of hope.
"And the enhancement focus?"
"Boosts physical strength and grants regenerative abilities comparable to Gastrea."
"Can lost internal organs regenerate too?"
"Theoretically, yes. But if they're completely destroyed, recovery might be impossible."
"Success rate?"
"96.32%."
"..."
Receiving the answer he sought, Mahiro fell into brief silence.
"The success rate is too low, and the regeneration doesn't meet my expectations."
After all, this wasn't something he intended to use in this world—he wanted to bring it back to the world of The Irregular at Magic High School.
Not only was it meant for those girls, but it was also a souvenir for his so-called "cheap" mother.
So there absolutely couldn't be any mistakes.
"Dr. Sumire, please improve the success rate and regenerative capabilities further."
Mahiro pushed the syringe back toward Muroto Sumire.
"Tell me, young man—are you being too demanding about the success rate? Or perhaps... you're underestimating your own abilities?"
Sumire suddenly spoke, her languid yet piercing gaze peering through her wavy bangs.
She picked up the syringe, lightly tapping its metallic casing against the desk.
"'Tracing information bodies and overwriting them'—that's your phrasing. But in reality, this is a power akin to that of a god. Do you understand?"
"No matter the danger, no matter how fatal the injury, even if your genes are tampered with—your ability can restore everything to its original state. It's like the foundation of the world itself."
"With such power, does the serum's success rate even matter to you?"
"Even if it's just a one percent, one in a thousand, or even one in ten thousand chance—as long as it's not zero, it's equivalent to one hundred percent for you. Surely you understand that by now?"
How could he not understand?
It simply meant that even if unexpected mutations occurred, he could restore everything to normal using information overwrite.
And then repeat the process over and over again.
"As for the terrifying regenerative ability you're pursuing, the current Gastrea virus can't possibly meet that demand. Unless you can obtain a Gastrea virus of level 4 or higher, I can try to help you."
But level 4 viruses only appear in areas beyond the Monoliths—regions already lost to the Gastrea—and even then, they're scarce.
Most Gastrea are only at level 3.
Or rather, the higher the level, the rarer the Gastrea become. Take the Zodiac Creatures, for example—including those already killed, there are only eleven in the entire world.
But for Mahiro, this wasn't a problem.
"Fine, I'll handle the virus. I'll leave the rest to you, Doctor."
His words made Muroto Sumire pause briefly before a bewitching smile curled at the corners of her lips.
Propping her chin on her hand, she studied Mahiro with keen interest.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Heh, I was just thinking about what kind of reward I should demand from you." Sumire let out a witch-like, unsettling laugh.
The two already-frightened little girls huddled together even tighter.
A terrifying woman—better to stay far away...
"Didn't we already agree on the terms?" Mahiro frowned slightly.
The price he and Sumire had settled on was that when he left this world, he would take her with him.
After all, with his absurd abilities, there was no hiding them from someone like her—one of the Four Sages, a mind unmatched in this world.
And this woman had no lingering attachments here. She wanted to see the vastness of other worlds.
"That was the old price. Now that you've added so much trouble for me, I'm raising it."
"What do you want?"
"Your genetic material. I'm very curious—whether your genes are the same as a normal human's."
"You want blood? That's fine..."
Just as he reached for an empty syringe to draw his own blood, Sumire stopped him.
Crossing her legs, she smiled faintly—a smile that sent chills down the spine, even exhaling a rare, flushed breath.
"No, no. What I want is your sperm."
???!!!
Mahiro froze completely.
Had this woman... entered her mating season because of spring?!
No—there was probably no one else in the world who could so brazenly say such forbidden words besides her.
"What, not willing? Or are you incapable of extracting it yourself? If it's the latter, I'd be happy to help."
As she spoke, Sumire stood up, her shoulders shifting slightly, letting her white lab coat slip to the floor in a perfect circle.
Revealing the mature, well-proportioned figure tightly wrapped in a purple blouse and black pencil skirt.
"Don't look at me like this, ten years ago I had quite a few admirers." Sumire chuckled, stepping closer to him in her high heels.
But when she tried to grab Mahiro's arm, she caught nothing but air.
Immediately after, his voice reached her.
"Well, uh, it's getting late. Asaka and Enju haven't eaten yet, so I should take them home for dinner."
Mahiro left in a hurry.
"Come visit again when you have time, Agent Clarice."
Watching his flustered retreating figure, Sumire waved her hand and muttered under her breath, "What a cowardly man."
Cowardly?
Not really.
There was no reason to refuse meat served right to his mouth, and truth be told, he was indeed interested in this older woman.
But the problem was—being interested didn't mean he could act on it anytime!
After all, Asaka and Enju were right there with him. Who would take responsibility if they were corrupted?
If he had known it would turn out like this, he shouldn't have brought them along in the first place...
....
...
..
The next day.
As usual, Enju went to school.
Meanwhile, Asaka was dutifully cleaning the room.
Her meticulous nature left no corner untouched.
Asaka was the same age as Enju and, by all rights, should have been attending school with her.
But Asaka herself refused, insisting, "As Mahiro-sama's sword, I must remain by his side at all times." That was the reason she gave for rejecting the idea of school.
In truth, Asaka simply didn't want to interact with others, especially the children at school.
After all, seeing them being picked up and dropped off by their parents—even if Asaka claimed not to care—still left a faint ache in her heart.
As for herself? Well, she'd had enough.
One experience with school was more than sufficient.
And so, time passed until noon. After finishing lunch, Asaka was washing the dishes when Mahiro suddenly received a phone call.
"Hello? Calling me at this hour—got a job for me, President?"
"Please don't call me 'President' outside work hours. But yes, there is a job."
Kisara's voice, clear as a bell, came through the receiver.
"So, should I head to the office now? Or can we discuss it over the phone?"
"Neither. Just come to the Defense Ministry right away!"
"Got it. I'll be there soon."
After hanging up, he turned around to find Asaka staring up at him intently, her eyes—now restored to their original color—reflecting his image.
"Is there work?" Asaka asked.
"Yeah, the President wants me to go to the Defense Ministry."
"Then I'm coming with you."
Her gaze was firm and resolute. "Mahiro-sama, I am your sword. I want you to wield me properly, not leave me sheathed."
There it was again—that phrasing.
Truthfully, Asaka's skills were impressive, more than deserving of her rank—perhaps even higher.
Moreover, her Gastrea virus infection rate was relatively low, hovering just above 30%.
Far lower than Enju's dangerously high 43%.
But even so, he didn't want these children on the battlefield. There was no reason for them to fight tooth and nail for the so-called "future of humanity."
It wasn't worth it.
To others, the Cursed Children might be seen as excellent combat tools—cheap, expendable resources to be used en masse.
Even Promoters who didn't dislike them—or even liked them—still deployed them in battle or fought alongside them.
It couldn't be helped. Most Promoters weren't strong enough on their own, often weaker than the children themselves, so they had no choice but to rely on them.
But Mahiro's perspective differed from those Promoters.
To him, Mibu Asaka was just a child who needed protection—nothing more. Just because she could fight, did that mean she had to?
Just because she had the ability, did she have to risk her life for someone else's future?
Couldn't she live in peace?
Couldn't she enjoy life like any other child?
Pushing the burden of battle onto ten-year-olds—didn't those people feel any shame?
That was why he had always refused to let Asaka take part in the agency's jobs.
However, this time, it wouldn't hurt to take her to the Ministry of Defense to broaden her horizons—after all, there wasn't any real danger.
"Alright, let's go. Hurry and get changed, then we'll head out."
Hearing this uncharacteristically accommodating response from him, Asaka's eyes lit up with joy, her crimson irises even flickering back into visibility from the surge of emotion.
"Yes! Please wait just a moment, Mahiro-sama! I'll be right back!"
Asaka scurried back to her room on her short legs.
Before long, she emerged fully equipped—not only wearing a modified kimono-style outfit for ease of movement but also donning the custom-made exoskeleton armor from Shiba Heavy Industries.
A long sword hung at her waist.
It wasn't made of Varanium, just an ordinary blade, but it was crafted by a master swordsmith—a gift from Kisara to mark her apprenticeship.
She really was fired up, huh...
After leaving home, he drove little Asaka straight to the Ministry of Defense.
...
...
...
Inside the Ministry of Defense.
By the time they arrived at the conference room, it was already packed.
Aside from the suited executives, the rest were all Promoters armed with Varanium weapons gleaming in dark metallic hues, each accompanied by an Initiator around Asaka's age.
In contrast, their student-like attire and casual outfits made them stand out like anomalies.
Not to mention how young they were.
"Oi oi, what the hell's up with the quality of Civil Security lately? Even kids are playing pretend now? You sure you're in the right room? If this is some field trip for social studies, get the hell out quietly!"
A burly man bellowed as he stepped forward from the ranks of the Civil Officers.
His iron-like chest, barely concealed by a thin tank top, radiated intimidation even from a distance.
His hair stood on end like flames, a skull-patterned bandana covering his mouth, his upturned, narrow eyes glaring disdainfully.
Slung across his back was a massive broadsword, perfectly matching his towering, muscular frame.
Before Rentaro could react, Mahiro had already stepped forward, shielding Kisara and Asaka behind him—but this reflexive move only seemed to piss the man off further.
"Hah? Stepping up alone—you looking for a beating, brat?"
"Do not disrespect Mahiro-sama!"
Asaka immediately stepped forward, glaring fiercely up at the giant, her hand already gripping the hilt of her sword, ready to deliver a lethal strike.
Truth be told, many in the room had already recognized Mahiro—in fact, those who didn't know him were the odd ones here.
But nearly everyone was just waiting for the show.
After all, rumors about Mahiro weren't exactly taken at face value, especially when he looked as delicate as some spoiled young master.
Some had even imagined the scene of Mahiro getting pummeled by Ikuma Shougen, and more than a few had already pulled out their phones, ready to record and upload it online.
"Get lost." Mahiro blocked Asaka while delivering the icy command.
To everyone's astonishment, Shougen seemed to freeze for a moment before dumbly saying, "Understood." He then placed his weapon aside, crouched into a ball, and rolled away with a rumble.
The crowd erupted in shock, completely dumbfounded.
Even Kisara and Rentaro stared at him with wide eyes.
"You... what did you just do?"
To think he could make IP Rank 1584's Ikuma Shougen obey so readily!
"Just a little magic trick," Mahiro smiled faintly. "President Kisara, please take your seat. The meeting is about to begin."
He reminded her thoughtfully.
It was the hypnotic magic of the light-wave vibration system—"Evil Eye."
Though it was a minor spell not worth mentioning, in this world, it had unexpectedly potent effects.
Leading Asaka, Mahiro took his place by the wall like the other Civil Security officers.
Soon, the meeting began.
On the screen appeared that familiar snow-white figure—Seitenshi—alongside the tall, elderly man standing beside her, her advisor, Tendo Kikunojou.
The mission this time was a ten-billion-yen request: to retrieve a lost case.
Since Mahiro had no interest in money and already knew the contents, he didn't pay much attention. Instead, he studied the little girl who had appeared beside him.
She wore a plain-colored long-sleeved dress and leggings. Though she had large, bright eyes, they gave off an emotionless, doll-like impression.
At that moment, her partner was still rolling around on the floor.
Meanwhile, she was sizing him up with those sparkling eyes.
Mahiro recognized this girl—she was the partner of that burly man, Ikuma Shougen. She was also one of the most tragic characters in the series, an Initiator with dolphin genes—
"Your name is... Senju Kayo, right?"
"Ah..."
Kayo let out a small gasp, astonished that he knew her name.
"Surprised? It's just a little magic trick."
"..."
As Mahiro teased Kayo, Asaka beside him puffed up her cheeks in frustration.
Mahiro-sama was being lured away by another woman again, even though he already had her...
Still, she didn't intend to vent her childishness at him.
After all, she herself was a girl Mahiro had saved from the darkness. Seeing another Cursed Child being cared for by him warmed her heart.
Truly, Mahiro-sama's heart was as vast and kind as ever...
Then.
Mahiro suddenly extended a hand toward Kayo and slowly opened his palm.
As if performing magic, a piece of candy lay quietly in his hand.
"You must be hungry, Kayo-chan. Here, have some candy."
His gentle, cheerful smile made Kayo freeze for a moment. Staring at the candy in his hand, she was genuinely surprised this time.
She wasn't actually hungry, but she had considered using that excuse to tease him and see how he'd react.
Yet, he had anticipated it.
Could this man read minds?
Kayo carefully placed the candy in her mouth, savoring the sweetness while pondering.
For the first time, she felt her 210-IQ brain wasn't quite up to the task.
"Here, one for Asaka-chan too."
Turning back, he handed another one to Asaka, who was sulking in a huff.
After all, he couldn't play favorites.
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