Morning sunlight carried a faint chill as it slipped through the gaps between high-rises, scattering pale patches of light across the pavement.
Toyokawa Sakiko and Shinobu Kocho stepped out of the hotel's revolving door, one behind the other.
Sakiko pulled her uniform jacket closer and let her gaze drift over the traffic-choked street toward the distant blocks. The air held a faint mix of exhaust and dew.
"Miss Shinobu—did you rest well last night?" Sakiko asked, turning her head slightly. There was a trace of concern in her voice.
Shinobu immediately offered a smile—warm, flawless, almost too perfect.
"Very well, Sakiko. The bed was wonderfully soft, the hot water plentiful… The room was so comfortable it made me feel almost unworthy."
She dipped into a small, sincere bow.
For Shinobu, who spent long stretches hunting demons, a shack that kept out rain—an abandoned room where she wouldn't be soaked by cold mist—was already a blessing from heaven.
A place that was bright, spotless, temperature-controlled, dustless… exceeded her definition of "comfort" by an absurd margin.
Sakiko nodded and said nothing more.
Putting Shinobu in a hotel was partly basic courtesy—she couldn't exactly drag a guest into her father's crumbling one-room apartment.
That apartment reeked perpetually of cheap beer, cold convenience-store meals, and the stale despair of a man who had lost everything.
Her once-proud father stayed curled in bed most days, eyes empty, hollowed out by alcohol and failure. If Sakiko didn't clean and look after him, she didn't want to imagine what he'd become.
And—if she was honest—there was the issue of shame.
Her father's collapse, the Toyokawa family's internal rot… she didn't want to lay that bare in front of a group friend.
"Let's go," Sakiko said calmly, pointing down the street.
They didn't take a taxi.
Instead, Sakiko led her to a nearby bus stop.
Sakiko thought it was the fastest way for Shinobu to acclimate to an ordinary world.
The platform steadily filled—office workers and students converging into a current of hurried bodies.
Shinobu stood quietly at Sakiko's side, sharp eyes taking in everything without seeming to stare.
A giant electronic sign flickered with complex route maps and changing numbers. Students in various uniforms laughed and chatted, fingers flying over small glowing rectangles. Salarymen in suits lined up with numb faces, like machines waiting for instructions.
A huge bus glided in with a low rumble. The door hissed open.
Shinobu watched an elderly man swipe a small card at the machine—beep. Students did the same, casually tapping and boarding.
Sakiko took out her own card, tapped once, then again—two crisp beeps—and motioned Shinobu to follow.
They found seats in the middle of the carriage.
The bus started; the street scenery began sliding backward.
Shinobu sat perfectly straight, hands folded on her lap, spine rigid.
It was a habit carved into her by years of fighting—alertness that never truly turned off, even when she tried to rest.
Sakiko quietly explained the fare box, the automated announcements, the handrails.
Shinobu listened with that same gentle smile, as if everything in front of her were perfectly natural.
But inside, a storm was raging.
No horses. No rails. Yet it carried so many people smoothly.
Shinobu stared out at skyscrapers streaking past the window.
That small card was money? Far lighter than carrying heavy coins and bills. And the glowing boards that delivered information instantly…
The vibration of wheels on asphalt, the constant warm air of the bus's climate control, the glare of sunlight reflected off glass façades, the silent advertisements playing on screens inside the carriage…
Each detail hit her like a shock.
Those thin "phones" in people's hands could produce voices and moving pictures.
Roads were flat and wide. Buildings pierced the sky. Nights were lit as brightly as day.
Last night in Rin's world had only been a brief, dazzling glimpse. But now Shinobu was walking through Sakiko's world with her own feet—and she couldn't stop the emotion rising in her chest.
Compared to her era of blood, darkness, and blades…
This place was so beautiful it felt like a fragile dream.
"To live in Sakiko's world… even as an ordinary person… would already be an unimaginable happiness."
Shinobu drew in a quiet breath. The air smelled of leather and cleaning agents, nothing like mountain forest wind.
The daily-life shock was deeper than any demon could ever be.
The people here were living in miracles every day—and they were completely used to it.
Sakiko could sense the subtle shifts beside her.
She glanced over and saw Shinobu staring intently at a massive outdoor LED screen, colors spilling across it in dazzling waves.
Sakiko didn't comment. The trip was meant to "teach modern life" as much as anything else.
Half an hour passed in what felt like seconds amid Shinobu's private awe.
The bus stopped in front of Shuchiin Academy's imposing gates.
As the announcement rang out, Sakiko stood. "Miss Shinobu—we're here."
They stepped off together.
The campus was solemn, grand, heavy with history and elite order.
A tall gilded iron gate bore an intricate crest. Sunlight fell over manicured evergreen vines and polished marble pillars, reflecting a shine that felt almost arrogant—like the confidence of the highest class made tangible.
Beyond lay a wide tree-lined avenue and classical school buildings. An air of "the top" pressed down immediately.
This was Kaguya Shinomiya's school.
Sakiko's eyes lingered on the gate, deep and unreadable.
To break the chain called "hierarchy" among the four shackles in her father's Palace, she had to destroy the Toyokawa family completely.
But she'd found a blind spot.
If she built a new business empire in her own name to crush the Toyokawas… wouldn't she simply become the next Toyokawa?
A new top-tier conglomerate. A new rule-maker. And in doing so, she would forge a new hierarchy with her own hands.
At that point, she'd still be trapped in a cage made of power and responsibility—no true freedom at all.
So she needed a white glove.
An agent on the surface—someone to swing the blade, destroy Toyokawa, and bear the backlash and all the eyes.
The best candidate she'd chosen was Kaguya Shinomiya.
Sakiko's gaze swept over the students in expensive tailored uniforms, walking with the delicate self-control of old-money heirs.
She knew Kaguya's education was nothing like hers.
Toyokawa training still had traces of human warmth.
Shinomiya training was a cold furnace that forged heirs like precision parts—carving rigidity and cruelty into the bone.
Even as an illegitimate daughter, Kaguya had been subjected to the full "heir curriculum," harsh to the point of brutality.
Sakiko could see the Shinomiya patriarch's icy arithmetic.
If this leftover piece of material could be hammered into true steel—sharp enough to replace an incompetent legitimate son—then she would be elevated without hesitation.
In that environment, affection and humanity were ground to dust. Even the air tasted like iron.
A loveless prison.
That was Sakiko's conclusion.
In the Shinomiya family, Kaguya's father treated her as a tool and bargaining chip. Her brothers kept distance out of wary hostility—because she was a threat.
Warmth wasn't something she could ever receive there.
And yet—
A week ago, Sakiko had caught a crucial signal in gossip threads on Shuchiin's internal forum.
Kaguya Shinomiya… seemed to be in love.
With the student council president—Shirogane Miyuki, a commoner.
Sakiko immediately understood: this was the perfect lever.
In a clan that reduced people to tools, Kaguya's marriage would be a political contract, never a free choice.
If she wanted to protect her love—if she wanted to be with the person she'd chosen—then the Shinomiya family became the obstacle she had to overthrow.
Which matched Sakiko's own goal perfectly: smash a rotten conglomerate, and rise from a piece on the board to someone who wrote the rules.
To confirm the theory, Sakiko spent the last week using probability clones to attend her own classes at Haneoka like nothing had changed, while she herself slipped into Shuchiin daily and watched Kaguya from the shadows.
Now, after a week of observation, she judged the timing right.
Standing near Shuchiin's grand but cold gate, Toyokawa Sakiko took a slow breath, as if gathering invisible force.
She didn't pull out a phone or use any navigation app.
Instead, she turned slightly and reached out, lightly grasping Shinobu's wrist—slender, but holding astonishing strength.
"Miss Shinobu. Please don't panic."
The instant the words left her mouth, a strange ripple spread outward from the two of them.
The world abruptly darkened—as if a black-red filter had been laid over reality.
Colors bled away, replaced by shadows soaked in dried blood and hard crimson outlines. Light warped. Edges blurred, as though viewed through a film of filthy, trembling oil.
Sakiko had forcibly torn open a slit between the real world and the cognitive realm.
In this state, they were standing behind a one-way mirror.
They could see everything in reality—students passing by, teachers speaking softly, leaves falling in the wind—
But they themselves had been erased.
No voice could carry. No body could touch. To everyone else, they were ghosts that didn't exist.
This state was only useful for scouting and stealth. Sakiko wasn't truly inside the cognitive world—let alone someone's Palace.
To storm a Palace directly, she still needed the navigation app.
Holding Shinobu's wrist, Sakiko walked straight through Shuchiin's gates as if security didn't exist.
Their bodies passed through oncoming students like mist, overlapping and slipping through without resistance.
Shinobu felt unnervingly light.
A girl hugging textbooks and laughing with friends walked straight through Shinobu's torso without reacting in the slightest.
Shinobu's violet eyes tightened by a fraction.
So it really is true… There isn't a single "ordinary" person in that chat group.
After a week of reconnaissance, Sakiko knew Shuchiin's layout by heart.
She guided Shinobu through corridors and finally stopped at a heavy oak door engraved with the student council crest.
Without hesitation, she pushed it open and walked in.
Inside the student council room, sunlight poured through tall windows—bright and warm in reality.
But in Sakiko and Shinobu's view, those sunlit patches were stained dark red, casting ominous shadows across the polished wood floor.
The room was spacious and lavish. The council members were working. The atmosphere looked harmonious.
Behind a large mahogany desk, President Shirogane Miyuki frowned as he reviewed documents.
Vice President Kaguya Shinomiya sat at a side desk with perfect posture, one hand elegantly holding a fine bone-china coffee cup while the other processed a pile of work at high speed.
Treasurer Yu Ishigami wore headphones and slumped in the corner, absorbed in his phone game, fingers tapping rapidly, his expression half-dead.
Secretary Chika Fujiwara, brimming with energy, scribbled on the whiteboard, pink hair bouncing as she hummed.
Discipline officer Miko Iino sat stiffly, meticulously checking a stack of receipts, severe and out of sync with the room's playful energy.
Then—
The instant Sakiko and Shinobu stepped into the room, something beyond reason struck.
Kaguya Shinomiya, mid-sip, froze.
A violent wave of dizziness crashed over her with no warning.
The light twisted. The entire room's colors drained, replaced by that same oppressive black-red cast.
Worse—
The others—Shirogane, Fujiwara, Ishigami, Iino—became slightly transparent in Kaguya's eyes.
Familiar faces blurred and faded, like ink washed off a damp newspaper, like a damaged photograph underexposed and torn.
Kaguya's heart skipped.
But then the Shinomiya family's ruthless "education" proved its worth.
Her fingertips stopped trembling instantly. Her grip relaxed back into precision.
She placed the coffee cup down smoothly—clink—a crisp sound in a room that suddenly felt wrong.
Her lashes lowered, hiding the flash of alarm in her eyes.
When she looked up again, she wore calm like armor.
Deep ruby eyes hardened into cold appraisal.
She didn't shout. She didn't whirl around.
She adjusted her breathing in silence—and then, with frightening accuracy, looked directly at the two figures that had appeared where no one should be.
Her gaze landed on Sakiko first.
She caught the unfamiliar crest on Sakiko's uniform—clearly not Shuchiin.
Haneoka Girls' Academy?
Why would a girl from a common school appear here—silently—while triggering an anomaly like this?
The question flashed across her mind.
Then recognition snapped into place as her eyes reached Sakiko's face.
Toyokawa Sakiko… the only legitimate daughter of the Toyokawa main line?
Kaguya's eyes narrowed slightly.
Toyokawa had fallen in prestige in recent years—there were rumors they'd even slipped out of the top tier—but they were still a name that once moved in the same circles as Shinomiya.
For a Toyokawa heiress to appear like this…
This wasn't a social call.
As for the violet-eyed girl behind Sakiko, her aura was strange too—but Kaguya judged instantly: today's main actor was Sakiko.
The social mask returned in an instant.
Kaguya stood with impeccable grace, as if each movement had been rehearsed a thousand times.
Hands folded in front, she bowed slightly toward Sakiko and offered a flawless smile—polite, distant, perfectly aristocratic.
"Toyokawa Sakiko-san, correct?"
Her voice was cool and clear, ringing through the black-red air.
She tilted her head just enough to convey refined confusion.
"To what do we owe the honor of the Toyokawa family's young lady visiting Shuchiin's student council?"
Sakiko didn't flinch.
She returned a pristine bow, the exact etiquette of Toyokawa at its height.
Her smile carried calm confidence. Her eyes were deeper than a well.
"Shinomiya-senpai. I've long heard your name."
Sakiko's tone was steady.
"I apologize for the intrusion. I do have something I must discuss with you—privately."
In this slit cut away from reality, two girls born into power faced each other, their presence colliding without sound.
Shinobu stood half a step behind Sakiko's right shoulder, wearing that gentle, serene smile like a perfect ornament.
But behind that flawless expression:
Who am I? Where am I? What are they talking about? Why is this atmosphere so heavy?!
Even while her mind was full of questions, she remained a perfect "smiling doll," controlling even her breathing so no confusion leaked out.
Kaguya observed Sakiko's answer and let her gaze drift—seemingly casual—over the half-transparent silhouettes of the others.
"Understood."
Her voice stayed elegant, carrying the confidence of someone used to holding the upper hand.
"Shall I arrange a more secluded location for our discussion?"
"No need, Shinomiya-senpai."
Sakiko answered crisply, her smile sharpening with control.
"In this special state…"
She glanced at the faded outlines of Shirogane and the others.
"They can't perceive the three of us at all."
Kaguya's lips parted—just enough.
"Oh? So that's how it works."
For a heartbeat, surprise appeared in her eyes at exactly the right intensity. Her voice carried a perfectly measured realization.
But Sakiko and Shinobu could both see it.
There was no real surprise.
Only cold composure.
From the moment the dizziness struck, the black-red filter fell, and her companions began fading—Kaguya had already concluded: this was not a physical phenomenon.
That momentary "shock" had been performance.
A habit. A test. A mask used to probe the other party's intent.
"Then, please. Sit."
Kaguya's expression returned to smooth calm.
She gestured toward a small reception sofa area.
The three moved silently.
Sakiko and Shinobu sat together on one couch.
Shinobu maintained her perfect "decorative" posture—smiling, quiet, speaking not a word.
Kaguya took the opposite seat and sat with regal precision, back straight, hands folded on her lap.
The leather sofa held her body, but the air itself felt taut.
The room's ordinary sounds became strangely disturbing in this separated space: Shirogane's papers rustling, Fujiwara's humming, Ishigami's tapping, Iino's receipts flipping—
All of it existed, but felt like it came from another dimension—background noise that made the silence more unsettling.
Then came the silence.
A heavy, concrete silence that pressed down on the shoulders.
Kaguya understood negotiations.
The first to speak often exposed need—surrendered initiative—invited control.
So she waited.
Patiently.
She watched Sakiko like a predator, waiting for a crack, waiting for the other side to show their hand.
In the end, Sakiko broke the silence.
She turned her head slightly, as if looking through Kaguya—briefly letting her gaze settle on the half-transparent Shirogane.
Then she looked back, smile faintly curved.
She wasn't speaking because her patience failed.
She spoke because she had absolute confidence.
She had a hand Kaguya couldn't refuse—so starting the conversation didn't scare her.
Sakiko adjusted her posture and leaned forward a little, tone light, like casual afternoon tea.
"Shinomiya-senpai, I heard you've entered your third year. Busy, I imagine. Yet you're still serving as student council vice president."
"Your capability is admirable."
Kaguya's flawless smile didn't budge.
She lifted her coffee with calm elegance and took a sip.
"Toyokawa-san flatters me."
Her voice was soft, dismissive.
"To me, balancing the student council's workload, complex responsibilities, and academic performance is not difficult."
The words were plain.
But the dominance behind them was unquestionable—built from top-ranked scores, a perfect record, and the Shinomiya family's merciless training.
Sakiko nodded, unbothered.
She knew exactly how terrifying Kaguya's talent was. Academics were only the tip of a vast iceberg.
The testing pleasantries ended.
Sakiko's smile thinned. Her molten-gold eyes fixed on Kaguya as if to pierce her polished shell.
Her voice sharpened.
"Let's stop testing each other."
"I know why you insisted on staying in the student council—despite your third-year workload."
She paused—then let her gaze flick briefly toward Shirogane again, returning to Kaguya's eyes with surgical precision.
"It's to spend more time with the current president… Shirogane Miyuki. Isn't it?"
The air froze.
Kaguya's smile locked in place—then a hairline crack appeared.
Her fingers tightened around the cup.
For an instant, emotion detonated inside her: humiliation, territorial fury, the fear of being seen through.
Then it was strangled, forcibly, by sheer self-control.
Kaguya placed the cup down—clink—clean, cold.
Sakiko continued as if she hadn't witnessed the storm.
"Only the student council room lets you escape the family's leash for a while."
"You can use 'work' as a legitimate excuse to remain under the same roof as him, breathe the same air."
"It's one of the few freedoms you've carved out for yourself."
Kaguya didn't answer immediately.
She lowered her lashes, hiding the turbulence.
Seconds stretched long.
When she raised her eyes again, everything emotional had been iced over.
Only a sharp, inorganic cold remained—piercing Sakiko.
A soft laugh escaped her lips.
"Heh…"
Kaguya leaned forward slightly, hands crossed over her lap.
Her posture no longer belonged to a model vice president.
It belonged to a Shinomiya successor—pressure and edge made visible.
"Then tell me your true purpose."
"Toyokawa-san. You used something beyond common sense to come here."
"What exactly do you want from me?"
Kaguya dragged the focus back onto Sakiko.
Sakiko met her gaze with calm control.
Instead of answering, she lifted a hand and traced a few quick, graceful motions in the air.
A translucent interface appeared—visible only to Kaguya.
At its center was a clear prompt:
[Join the Persona 5 subgroup chat?]
"This is a product of supernatural power," Sakiko said.
"A platform for communication beyond common sense. You'll gain access to information you normally could never touch."
"And if you ultimately choose to leave, I can ensure that the memories connected to what you learned here—the conversations, the details—are safely erased."
"As if none of it ever happened. No leak risk."
Kaguya's eyelids lifted slightly.
She didn't bother studying the interface. Instead, her lips curled into open ridicule.
"Memory erasure?"
Her voice carried the Shinomiya family's arrogance.
"Toyokawa-san, what makes you think I would agree?"
Sakiko's smile didn't move.
She revealed the stake she knew Kaguya couldn't ignore.
"Because of profit, Shinomiya-senpai."
"Enough profit."
Her voice remained low, but each word struck Kaguya's softest exposed nerve like a hammer.
"I have power that doesn't come from Toyokawa money or worldly authority."
"It's power enough to completely block the pressure of the Shinomiya family."
"If you join, I can use it to build a shield around you."
"Not a temporary compromise."
"A true clearing of obstacles."
"So you and Shirogane Miyuki can be together—without any interference."
Kaguya's breathing visibly stalled.
Silence lasted less than a second.
But in Kaguya Shinomiya's mind, the calculation ran through thousands of paths at lightning speed.
Risk and temptation fought like beasts on a scale.
Then the emotion was slammed down.
Kaguya closed her eyes once.
When she opened them, her gaze was coldly clear—almost cruel in its decisiveness.
"…Fine."
She tapped [Accept] without hesitation.
[Kaguya Shinomiya has joined the chat.]
A faint blue glow flashed and vanished. The interface disappeared.
Kaguya sat straighter, regaining her usual elegant chill. Only the slight rise and fall of her chest betrayed the aftershock of that internal decision.
Sakiko's smile relaxed—not triumphantly loud, but unmistakably satisfied.
She leaned back into the sofa with measured ease, eyes carrying a hint of appreciation.
"Shinomiya-senpai, I didn't seek you out by accident."
Her tone turned more direct, more honest.
"Because at the core, we share the same goal. And we're trapped by similar chains."
Kaguya split her attention, quickly scanning the unfamiliar chat interface.
Hearing Sakiko's claim, she tilted her head slightly and replied in a tone that sounded casual—but was razor-sharp.
"The same goal? Really?"
Kaguya's lips curved with sarcasm, voice soft like velvet and poisonous like ice.
"As the one legitimate heir of the Toyokawa main line, Toyokawa Sakiko…"
"Do you truly face the same pressure as an illegitimate daughter like me—someone who can be used as a pawn, or disposed of entirely?"
She dragged the words out, her eyes dripping with disdain.
"What is it, then?"
"Did you—like my brother—run into an unpleasant 'existence'?"
"Some inconvenient illegitimate child of your own?"
Sakiko's smile remained untouched.
"No need for pointless speculation, Shinomiya-senpai."
"There are no known illegitimate children in the Toyokawa family of my generation."
"And I have no interest in your exact status within the Shinomiya family."
She shifted the line smoothly, bypassing a topic that would only build hostility.
"The obstruction I'm referring to isn't the conventional squabbling over inheritance."
"That is troublesome, yes—but it doesn't matter to me."
Sakiko's expression sharpened into seriousness.
"Shinomiya-senpai, you should already understand something from what you're seeing—this state we're in, and the chat itself."
"This world isn't as simple as it appears."
"There is a hidden layer with supernatural force."
"For clarity, I'll call it the 'inner world.'"
She looked directly into Kaguya's eyes, voice carrying hard resolve.
"In that inner world, there are things I must do—things I cannot avoid."
"In the course of doing them, the Toyokawa family has become my obstacle."
"I must destroy Toyokawa completely."
Kaguya's voice carried a thread of genuine curiosity.
"Heh. Interesting."
"The entire Toyokawa family would eventually belong to you… and you intend to destroy it?"
It violated her instincts.
Sakiko didn't dodge her gaze.
"In the inner world, recognition is power."
"Personal recognition. Public recognition. Social recognition."
"These interwoven forms of 'belief' form the foundation of inner-world strength."
"And I'm bound too tightly to Toyokawa."
"So, to accomplish what I must accomplish—to break the chains of recognition—I have no other option."
"I must destroy it completely."
Kaguya fell silent.
She studied Sakiko's face with surgical attention—micro-expressions, eye movements, the tiniest shifts.
After several seconds, she spoke.
"You aren't lying."
"Then yes. We do have aligned goals."
"You need me to gain enough power and destroy Toyokawa."
"And in the process… I can use that power to destroy Shinomiya as well."
Sakiko nodded once.
"Then what concrete help can you provide?"
"How much influence does this so-called 'inner world' actually have over reality?"
That was Kaguya's true question.
Sakiko smiled—she could see the hesitation.
Kaguya was standing at the cliff's edge. She needed a rope strong enough to believe in, and she would step forward.
"You don't need the full theory. I'll tell you what I can give you."
She raised one finger.
"First: a power called Kotodama—word-binding."
"If I issue an order, the target will obey."
Kaguya's pupils tightened. Shock flashed—then her instincts raised a wall.
She stared at Sakiko, voice flat.
"A terrifying ability."
"Then why not simply command me? Force me to work for you wholeheartedly?"
That was her deepest suspicion.
If Sakiko truly had "words that must be obeyed," why sit here and negotiate?
Sakiko's smile deepened.
She didn't answer directly. She asked a question.
"If you had that power… would you command Shirogane Miyuki to be with you?"
Kaguya's mouth twitched, the expression turning into a thin smile.
"Heh… How weak."
Sakiko neither argued nor explained—only held a neutral smile.
In Kaguya's heart, Miyuki was the only love she'd ever felt real in a life of gray ice.
That love was sacred. She would never profane it with coercion.
But could others compare?
To Sakiko, Kaguya was merely a partner of aligned goals and usable ability.
Refusing to control even a partner at that level read—through Kaguya's eyes—as naïve softness.
Yet ironically, that restraint made cooperation possible.
It meant Kaguya didn't need to fear absolute domination.
Sakiko continued.
"Second: money."
"In reality, money is merely a tool used by the ruling class to allocate resources."
"To those who control the state, the number itself has no meaning."
"In the inner world, money is no more than that—at most."
Before she finished the sentence, she reached into her small bag.
She pulled out what looked like a compact powder case.
Sakiko flipped it open, turned it upside down over the wooden table between them, and gave it a light shake.
A torrent of crisp ten-thousand-yen bills poured out like floodwater.
In a blink, a small mountain of cash formed on the table.
Even Kaguya Shinomiya—who had seen wealth in every form imaginable—couldn't stop her brow from lifting a fraction.
Sakiko behaved as if she'd done nothing special.
"As you can see, I can provide a one-time sum on the scale of hundreds of billions of yen, and continue supplying more as needed."
"Of course, in society these funds are 'dirty'—no legal records, no source."
"You'll have to launder it."
Kaguya inhaled slowly, forcing down the wave that surged in her chest.
Washing hundreds of billions was nearly impossible under normal rules.
But if Kotodama truly existed—if minds could be bent—then moving bank executives, steering audits, rewriting key choke points…
This wasn't fantasy.
Kaguya nodded once.
"I understand."
Sakiko seemed pleased by how quickly Kaguya regained composure.
She didn't linger—she pulled out a second compact.
It looked identical to the one that had produced the money.
She opened it and aimed it at the cash pile.
In the next instant, as if time reversed, the mountain of bills lifted—turning into streams of light that rushed into the compact.
In less than a second, the table was clean.
Sakiko closed the lid—click.
Then she placed a fingertip against the compact and slid it smoothly across the table to Kaguya.
"As you can see, this is a storage device."
"If you take it, it should be convenient."
Kaguya's gaze locked onto the tiny metal case.
She understood instantly: its value far exceeded the cash it had stored.
Without hesitation, she reached out and took it.
She drew a careful breath, thumb under the lid, and flipped it open.
No mirror.
No powder puff.
No new wave of cash.
Instead, at the compact's base was a painting—strange, oppressive, and visually violent.
A single enormous eye.
Painted in deep, heavy tones—black and red in harsh contrast, forming a twisted, eerie beauty.
Kaguya extended her right index finger toward the painted eye.
The "surface" didn't feel like metal or canvas.
It felt like empty air with a faint sticky resistance—and her finger slid straight through.
The moment she pierced it, information poured into her mind.
In that instant, Kaguya saw a space the size of a basketball court.
The mountain of cash floated silently inside it.
And a rule settled into her awareness:
This space cannot store any form of living being.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 155)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter200)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter110)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter230)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 200
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 180
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 230
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 220
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 120
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 135
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 110
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 100
My Harem Is Indescribable 90
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 95
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 105
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 80
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 70
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 75
Checking In in Demon Slayer 80
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 85
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 70
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 65
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 70
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 70
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 65
Why did they assign me to Uma 65
MYGO Beauties 65
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 55
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 65
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 45
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 45
The Uma Musume Who Became 40
I'm Definitely Not the King of 45
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin