Chapter 70 – Aqua's Retaliation
The moment whwn Ruko and Kazuma enter the mansion. Aqua found the hidden receipt Kazuma had failed to burn properly, the mansion stopped being a home and turned into a battlefield, her scream echoing through every hallway as she held up the paper like evidence in a trial and shouted, "YOU WENT TO A SUCCUBUS SHOP WITHOUT EVEN ASK WHERE YOU'RE GOING?!" which immediately made Kazuma try to dive out a window while Ruko remained seated at the table, calm but very aware that this was about to escalate into divine punishment, and Megumin leaned forward with interest while Darkness covered her face but did not leave, because no one in this house ever left when chaos started. Aqua didn't wait for explanations; she grabbed her staff and began chanting purification spells at random furniture, the walls, the floor, Kazuma, and even Ruko despite him not moving, divine light flooding the room in rapid bursts that smelled like holy water and poor life choices, while Kazuma rolled across the floor shouting, "I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING YET, IT WAS JUST RESEARCH!" and Aqua responded, "YOU'RE PURIFYING YOURSELF PREEMPTIVELY," which made no sense but carried the terrifying confidence of someone who didn't need logic.
Ruko stood up slowly, trying to calm the situation with actual words instead of panic, telling Aqua, "It was a regulated service, no physical contact, no rule breaking, just a dream of fantasies," but that only made her turn on him with narrowed eyes and accuse him of being "too calm to be innocent," which Kazuma immediately agreed with in an attempt to redirect blame, and within seconds Aqua had dragged both of them outside and marched toward the succubus shop like a holy crusader leading a very unwilling army, Megumin following because she wanted to see an explosion opportunity and Darkness following because she wanted to be yelled at by a religious mob, while Ruko walked at the back with a quiet cat expression, already knowing this would end in embarrassment rather than destruction because the succubi operated within strict contracts.
When they reached the shop, Aqua kicked the door open and began firing purification magic in every direction, filling the room with blinding light and shouting accusations about "corrupting the youth of Axel," while the succubi—professional, calm, and clearly used to this—held up their contract papers and politely explained that all services were dream–based, consent–bound, and spiritually harmless, which only made Aqua louder, Kazuma more desperate, and Ruko more tired, until one succubus gently asked Aqua if she would like to file an official complaint through the proper guild channel, a level of bureaucracy so unexpected that Aqua froze mid–spell and started arguing about paperwork instead of morality, giving the entire party a chance to drag her out before she accidentally purified the building itself.
Outside, Kazuma collapsed against the wall in relief, muttering that he almost died without even doing anything fun, while Aqua continued to rant about divine dignity and Megumin asked practical questions about whether explosion magic counted as a dream experience, and Darkness tried to apologize to the staff for the disturbance, leaving Ruko standing slightly apart, watching the shop door close again, feeling something quieter than embarrassment settling in his chest, because while the chaos was loud and funny on the surface, the idea of people paying for artificial dreams to escape their real lives lingered in his mind longer than the argument itself.
Kazuma eventually straightened up and nudged Ruko with his elbow, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper that still somehow carried across the street as he said, "So… we're banned now, right? Or is this a temporary divine restriction?" and Ruko replied that bans only mattered if someone cared enough to enforce them, which made Kazuma grin in a way that meant he was already planning a third visit, while Aqua turned back mid–rant and shouted, "I HEARD THAT," causing Kazuma to immediately pretend he was talking about vegetables and moral discipline, two things no one believed for even a second. Megumin, meanwhile, seemed more curious than angry, asking Ruko whether dreams counted as "real emotional experiences," and Ruko answered honestly that the mind couldn't always tell the difference, which made her unusually quiet for a few steps before she loudly declared that explosion magic was still superior to psychology.
They began walking back toward the mansion under Aqua's continued lecture about purity, but the energy had shifted from explosive to exhausted, the kind of tired that followed a storm rather than preceded one, and Kazuma complained that he had almost been purified into a better person against his will, which he considered a human rights violation, while Darkness asked if divine punishment always came with that much light because she was trying to "mentally prepare" for future incidents, and Aqua told her to stop enjoying it, which only made Darkness nod with disturbing sincerity. Ruko walked beside Kazuma in silence for a while before saying quietly, "Next time, we must plan better," and Kazuma looked at him with the kind of brotherly approval that didn't need to be spoken, just a quick nod and a thumbs up a tired smile that said they both understood the difference between surviving chaos and choosing it.
By the time they reached the mansion, Aqua had run out of energy and collapsed dramatically onto the couch, declaring that she had saved Axel from moral collapse, Kazuma declared that he needed compensation for emotional damage, Megumin asked if she could blow up the receipt as symbolic closure, and Darkness offered to pay for the shop's damages despite there being none, leaving Ruko standing near the doorway again, half inside the noise and half outside it, thinking about the way the succubi had spoken calmly even while being attacked, thinking about contracts and rules and the strange comfort people found in controlled illusions, and for a brief moment he imagined what a dream designed specifically for him would look like, not in detail but in feeling, a place where he wasn't recovering from something, wasn't being hunted by relics or systems or expectations, just existing without weight.
Kazuma noticed the silence and nudged him again, this time more gently, asking, "You okay bud?" and Ruko answered with the same calm tone he always used, saying, "Yeah. Just thinking about something," which was technically true but didn't explain anything, and Kazuma didn't push because he understood that some thoughts were better left alone until they were ready to be spoken. Aqua, half–asleep, mumbled that she would personally purify any future suspicious activities, which Kazuma interpreted as a challenge rather than a warning, and Megumin began drafting a plan that involved disguises and timing, and Darkness volunteered to be a decoy for moral outrage, and the house slowly returned to its usual rhythm of ridiculous planning and louder–than–necessary living.
Later that night, when everyone else had fallen asleep, Ruko remained awake for a while, sitting near the window and listening to the quiet of Axel outside, thinking about dreams again, not the kind sold in shops but the kind people carried without realizing it, the ones that showed up in small choices and half–jokes and reckless plans, and he understood that Aqua's anger had come from a strange place of care rather than control, that Kazuma's curiosity was less about desire and more about escape, and that his own reaction had been the most complicated of all, not embarrassment, not excitement, but a quiet recognition that artificial happiness was still happiness to someone who needed it.
When he finally lay down, he didn't feel guilty or amused or frustrated, just thoughtful, the chaos of the day settling into something softer, and as sleep pulled him under he made a simple decision without saying it out loud, that if they ever went back to the shop it wouldn't just be for curiosity or comedy, it would be to understand what people were actually looking for when they paid for a dream, because somewhere between Aqua's divine outrage and Kazuma's desperate sneakiness was a truth about loneliness that no one in the house had said directly, and Ruko had started to notice it more clearly than he wanted to admit.
The next morning would return them to jokes and quests and arguments like nothing had happened, but the retaliation had left a mark—not on the shop, not on the city, but on the way Ruko looked at the idea of escape itself, and for once the loudest event of the day had led to the quietest kind of realization.