[Zaelum: A few more chapter for the +20!!, Don't worry! the fic is not going to banish!]
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[Ding!]
[New summon detected: Kasumigaoka Utaha.]
[Limited-time task triggered: Recruit her into your Familia within 1 hour.]
[Reward: Mystery Pack ×1.]
One hour?
Why is the timer shorter?
A "Mystery Pack"… and the reward's richer?
The system's prompt rang in Zyhark's mind, lifting one eyebrow.
At that moment, with the three holding different thoughts—
Kasumigaoka Utaha opened those wine-red eyes.
A little lazy, a little sharp.
She first took in the suite's luxurious decor, then let her gaze rest on the three in front of her.
She knit her brows and asked softly:
"Where… is this?"
"And you are…?"
Even her confusion carried a magnetic lilt that plucked the heartstrings.
Zyhark steadied himself and rolled out the now-familiar line:
"This is another world—the Labyrinth City of Orario."
"And I, Zyhark, am a god."
"I summoned you here from your world."
A flash of surprise skimmed Utaha's dark-red eyes.
But she didn't flare into resistance or denial like the last two.
She tilted her head slightly.
First looked Zyhark over with interest, then the two girls at his side.
One cold as ice, the other gentle as water but faintly thorned.
That was her first impression of Yukino and Mahiru.
Her gaze slid to the window, to a nightscape no modern Japan could boast.
In view—
Rows of buildings in wildly different styles.
"…Another world? A god?"
She murmured, curious as if parsing a light-novel premise.
"This setup is… more interesting than I expected."
"Well then, handsome who calls himself a god, and you two somewhat out-of-place ladies—"
"You've brought me to this… mm, decidedly fantastical stage. What for?"
Her calm and quick acceptance caught Zyhark off guard.
Yukino's indigo eyes stayed steady on Utaha; her cool voice cut to the core:
"Summoning is irreversible."
"You can't go back."
"Since you're here, face the facts."
"This god-sama needs you to join his Familia and become his strength."
Mahiru followed at the right time, keeping her tone as warm as possible:
"Though the process is abrupt, joining the Familia grants power beyond ordinary people—"
"And a foothold in this world."
"At the very least…"
"It beats ending up on the streets, or attracting the wrong kind of attention, right?"
Hearing that, Utaha's expression shifted from curiosity to dawning comprehension.
Then—
Cherry lips curved into a playful, ever-so-black-bellied smile.
"Heh… I see."
"A forced isekai transfer, no way back."
"And… a god-sama recruiting 'players'?"
She chuckled.
Her eyes said she'd seen through it all.
"Cliché as a script, but the character beats are crisp."
"I get it."
"Seems I don't have many choices, do I?"
Her gaze paused on Zyhark's face:
"And judging by this god-sama—and you two… mm, you look interesting too."
"Fine, I'll join."
"Anyway, the script back home… doesn't have much worth clinging to for now."
"Zyhark-sama, here's hoping the 'story' you write won't be too boring."
So readily said—
Zyhark actually blinked; he'd been braced for a long campaign.
"You…"
"That's a yes already?"
He couldn't quite believe it.
This was nothing like the refusals, the dashing for the door, or the snark bombardments he'd rehearsed for!
"What else?"
Utaha arched a brow.
The deepening smile on her lips had a lazy slyness:
"In a strange environment, attaching yourself to existing power is basic survival sense."
"And while this god-sama seems… mm, rather approachable—"
"Anyone with two followers this outstanding must have substance."
"I won't be like some third-rate script's heroine—whining and fussing—"
"Only to bow to reality's iron fist in the end."
"That lacks elegance. I prefer to choose scripts that interest me."
She tucked a long strand of black hair behind her ear, poised and neat:
"Then, properly—Kasumigaoka Utaha, formerly of Toyogasaki Academy."
"Please take care of me, my lord—Zyhark-sama~"
The "my lord" coiled like ribbon, laced with teasing.
Yukino spoke, serene as always:
"Yukino."
Mahiru added simply:
"I'm Mahiru."
However—
Utaha's eyes lingered more on Yukino.
Especially…
On the—shall we say—"chaster" terrain compared to herself and Mahiru.
Yukino caught that glance at once, and a ripple of rejection stirred inside.
Utaha's lips tilted with mischief, a black-bellied light in her eyes:
"Yukino… a name that sounds as lovely—and as cold—as it looks."
With a hint of provocation couched in praise, she went on:
"Like a lotus on a snowy peak—admired from afar, wrapped in a 'keep out' aura."
"However,"
"Wearing that wall-of-ice face all the time… doesn't it make you seem hard to approach?"
"Even a little childishly tsun?"
At that, an invisible "#" popped on Yukino's brow.
The room temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.
Her stare speared Utaha; her voice could have frozen air:
"Relationships depend on both parties' attitude and values, not on forced chumminess from one side."
"And whether I am hard to approach has nothing to do with a stranger whose background I don't know."
"You, Kasumigaoka-san—"
"This kind of instant-familiar, prodding talk only makes you look frivolous and boundary-blind."
"Oh my, frivolous. Noted."
Utaha didn't bristle; she laughed lightly, as if she'd found a fun toy:
"So your words are as icy and pointy as your looks, Yukino-san."
"But I prefer blunt over fake pleasantries."
"At least that lets us gauge each other's 'depths' faster, doesn't it?"
Her phrasing carried a double meaning; her eyes drifted, very pointedly, over Yukino.
"Depths?"
Yukino snorted:
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
"I've no interest in plumbing a stranger's heart—especially when she's plainly hostile."
"My 'depths'—you're free to test them yourself. If you've got the skill and the standing."
Utaha lowered her voice with sing-song "concern," sharp as a needle:
"Yukino-san, proper nutrition matters, you know?"
"I trust Zyhark-sama's eye won't favor overly… barren landscapes."
She cut a sidelong glance at Zyhark:
"As for development, shall I recommend some… mm, 'effective' menus?"
"Do you want to die?"
Yukino's anger spiked.
Seeing the powder keg about to blow, Mahiru rushed to smooth it over:
"Um…"
"Utaha-san, Yukino-san—we're going to be comrades. Let's get along, okay?"
"Could we maybe not be so harsh with each other's words—"
Before she could finish—
Utaha's dark-red eyes slid to her, coolly appraising:
"Shiina Mahiru-san, yes?"
"This eagerness to mediate—true kindness, or just habit from playing the 'good girl'?"
"At a moment this taut, forcing in to water things down can make it more awkward."
"Or perhaps… you enjoy being needed?"
Mahiru blinked, speechless at the sudden needle.
Her cheeks colored; her jaw puffed just a little as she rallied:
"I—I don't! I just don't want us starting off on the wrong foot!"
"It's not about enjoying anything!"
With the three girls' sniping ready to escalate—
Zyhark felt a throb in his temple and sighed inwardly.
He'd thought Yukino would help recruit; instead, she wanted to duel.
And from what he knew—
Utaha's acid tongue was no weaker than Yukino's.
In the source, as Toyogasaki's untouchable flower—
A boy's confession had been sliced so cleanly by her that he transferred schools in tears.
Zyhark quietly exhaled.
He couldn't let this go on.
"Enough!"
His low shout rolled out with the weight of oracle.
A vast, imperious, unquestionable might exploded from within him!
—[Divine Might]!
Unseal!
It was as if an invisible boulder crashed down!
Air in the room locked solid in an instant!
Brilliant blue radiance cloaked Zyhark; silver hair lifted in a windless surge!
Utaha had just drawn breath to speak again—
Her body trembled; her expression went slack.
Terror flooded those dark-red eyes, as if a hand had closed on her throat.
Words jammed in her larynx.
Her pretty face blanched; a fine cold sweat beaded her brow.
Yukino and Mahiru felt it as well.
Their breath caught; their bodies tensed against their will.
All thoughts of quarreling—
Were crushed flat beneath pure [Divine Might].
When they finally fell silent, Zyhark slowly drew the pressure back.
In the suite—
The heavy air thinned.
He rubbed his brow.
He looked, helpless, at the three beauties—quiet now, but each with her own shade of defiance.
"Utaha, take a bath and change first."
He nodded toward the bathroom, trying to shift the topic:
"Mahiru, could you grab a clean set of my clothes she can make do with for now?"
Utaha gave Zyhark a long, measured look—reassessing the weight of this "lord god."
She didn't press it further; she walked to the bath with composed grace.
Once the door clicked shut—
Yukino snorted and turned away:
"That razor-tongued newbie… far too insolent!"
"I don't want to see her again!"
Mahiru muttered too, a bit hurt:
"Right… the way she talks is too much. Way too mean…"
Watching the two pouting on the sofa, Zyhark almost laughed.
He opened his arms—
And drew them both in, one on each side.
"All right, all right—I know she got under your skin."
He softened his tone, soothing two bristling kittens.
His hand stroked Yukino's sleek dark hair and Mahiru's soft flaxen strands:
"Utaha's… forceful. Her words have barbs."
"But she's a comrade now. We'll smooth this out—like the two of you did."
His hands were warm and steady, with a calming strength:
"You're my most important, most exceptional companions—my biggest support in this world."
"It twists me up inside to see you fight."
Under that gentle comfort—
Yukino's body gradually relaxed.
Her face stayed blank, but her eyes gentled a shade.
Mahiru leaned into him, basking in the reassuring warmth.
The little knot in her chest slowly loosened.
Only—
Zyhark glanced toward the bathroom door.
And silently held a three-second memorial for a future of "triple-snark" in the Familia.
This might…
Be more "exciting" than delving the Dungeon.
Peace, it seemed, would not be their daily lot.
Just as he thought that, the system chimed again:
[Ding!]
...
…
(End of Chapter)
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