Agung froze, his hand hovering over the Mikan apron. He looked up from the cutting board, seeing the entire group—all seventeen of them—now crowding into the kitchen doorway and leaning over the banister.
The room was silent for a heartbeat. Then, as if they had rehearsed the choreography for a decade, the girls responded in a messy, overlapping, yet perfectly synchronized chorus.
"**We love you too!**"
The sheer volume of the combined "I love you" from \mu's, Aqours, and the Nijigasaki girls hit Agung like a physical shockwave. It was a chaotic blend of Umi's stern sincerity, Mari's dramatic flair, Lanzhu's regal confidence, and the quiet, shaky relief of the others.
The "Panda" billionaire turned a shade of red that matched the Mikan on his apron. He opened his mouth to retort with something about "frugal emotional management," but he was cut off by a sound even louder than the declaration of love.
**"HAHAHAHAHA!"**
Chika and You were doubled over, clutching their stomachs and leaning against the kitchen counter for support. Chika was laughing so hard she was actually wheezing, her face turning as orange as her signature fruit.
"The... the look... on his face!" Chika gasped, pointing a shaking finger at Agung. "The great billionaire creator... defeated by a kitchen apron and a group confession! It's too much!"
"Aye, aye!" You managed to choke out between hysterical giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "You looked so confident upstairs with your 'Number System,' but down here, you're just a giant plushie in an orange apron! I can't breathe!"
Even Hanamaru was giggling into her sleeve, murmuring something about how "This is the best drama the ryokan has seen in years, zura!"
Agung looked down at his green onions, then back at the laughing girls, and finally at the fourteen women who were now looking at him with a terrifying mixture of affection and "you're-never-leaving-this-kitchen" energy.
"This is a conspiracy," Agung grumbled, though he finally slipped the apron over his head. "A high-level, idol-coordinated conspiracy to break my spirit using psychological warfare and cheap comedy."
"Shut up and start chopping, 'Panda'!" Nico chirped, slapping a bag of potatoes onto the table. "You've got infinite stamina, remember? We need those peeled by 4 a.m.!"
As the sun began to peek over the horizon of Suruga Bay, the Takami Ryokan was filled not with the sound of a "Deadbeat" running away, but with the chaotic, domestic noise of a man with a quadrillion dollars trying to figure out a vegetable peeler while seventeen of the most famous women in Japan cheered him on (and made fun of his Android phone).
The "software update" was complete. The "Panda" was home.