Chapter Text
“THIS IS MADNESS, NATSUKI-SAN!”
A cry is heard from one of the representatives of the Eastern Trade Conglomerate of Kararagi. His eyes wide as pancakes, mouth agape, his face twisted with distress and uncertainty. Gone was the arrogant, smug expression the demihuman Reptile had worn months ago. Oh, it was long gone.
“The old ways of the Five Great Consortiums have held sway since the days of Hoshin of the Wilderness, four hundred years ago, and they shouldn’t, wouldn’t, change today. Not with you. And not after you. Not unless you plan for me and everyone in this room to be dead.”
He spoke with feigned confidence, his gaze sweeping across the chamber first to the raven-haired Japanese boy, then to the others gathered around the room.
“The Kyo Merchant Guild agrees with the sentiments of Mr. Crane and the Eastern Trade Conglomerate, Sir Natsuki.”
This time, a human in his sixties spoke. He fidgeted with his fingers as he talked, a subtle tension that Subaru immediately noticed.
“The Council may hold differing positions and ideas, but on this matter, we are united. The old order remains—and that is non-negotiable. An upstart like you should understand that. Sooner or later.”
His tone was arrogant, yet uncertain, as Subaru sized him up.
Deep, visible eye bags.
Fine silk clothing—expensive, but poorly kept.
Hair uncombed, neglected.
Ah, this is going to be easy.
“Sir Subaru.”
Another voice joined in—this time, a female kitsune. At the sound of her voice, Subaru remembered a fleeting memory. Someone from another time. Perhaps even another life. His current circumstances were different from the ones he remembered. Far different.
Before he could linger on the thought, the kitsune continued.
“My Sir, truly, I understand you. I really do. You came from nothing—a tale of rags to riches, from humble beginnings to an almost legendary figure. From no one to someone. And frankly, the Council respects that—at least, I do.”
She smiled gently.
“After all, are we not men and women of merit rather than inheritance? Much like you, we—or at least our ancestors did not rise from royalty or nobility, but from skill, industriousness, and the willingness to risk everything.”
Her expression was sympathetic, convincing enough almost to fool Subaru.
Almost.
“But even so,” she continued, “though we are neither royalty nor nobility, we must protect the status quo. For the status quo brings stability. It brings order.”
“You speak of order and stability while Hundreds of ordinary people are driven out of their homes every single day? While Kyo, Banan, Fusumi, and Ivada continue to get flooded with migrants and refugees fleeing Gusteko and Lugunica?” Subaru replied sarcastically. “Are you even hearing yourself, Senko-san?”
He had to restrain himself from laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.
No matter, he thought.
He didn’t need to explain.
He didn’t need to debate.
“But my l—”
“No.”
He cut her off before she could finish.
Power never needs to explain itself.
Nor does it require convincing anyone
It simply exists.
“I’ve heard enough. I didn’t come here to negotiate or bargain with you people. Not really.”
Subaru rose from his seat and walked away from the massive mahogany table, stopping before the towering glass windows that overlooked the capital city of Kyo. The great pagoda that housed the Kararagi Chamber of Commerce loomed behind him—an architectural marvel built over decades.
He had once wondered how long it took to construct something so grand.
It didn’t matter anymore.
Because today, he would make history.
Without warning, he snapped his fingers.
A golden-blonde girl in a pristine kimono stepped forward, carrying a parchment. She approached him with a gentle smile.
“Sir Subaru.”
She placed the document on the table, bowed deeply, and exited without another word.
“What is this, Natsuki-san?” asked the representative of the Eastern Trade Conglomerate of Kararagi as he took the missive. His eyes widened with every line he read.
“Oh? Nothing much,” Subaru said casually, stretching his arms. “I just secured a little favor from the Kararagian Parliament.”
He shrugged.
“Abel was a tremendous help—especially with the investment for that industrial complex jointly operated by Kararagi and Vollachia. But details, details.”
“N-no… this—this can’t be!”
“Oh, but it is.” Subaru grinned. “Two hours ago, the Parliament passed the Hoshin Antitrust Act.”
His smile sharpened.
“And it completely ruins the party for all of you.”
A sharp gasp escaped the kitsune. Around the room, faces froze in disbelief. Silence fell—heavy, suffocating.
Then Subaru spoke again, his voice calm, absolute.
“Effective immediately, the Kararagian Chamber of Commerce is hereby dissolved. All assets belonging to its members are frozen and subject to immediate investigation.”
He turned to face them fully, planting both hands firmly on the head of the table.
All evidence indicating market manipulation will be investigated and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Any monopolization within the industry is to be broken up and dismantled. The market will thrive once again—unrestricted, as it should be.
He straightened, eyes cold.
“Consider this your resignation.”
A pause.
“You’re all dismissed.”
“The most efficient solution would be the use of that spell,” the woman before her said calmly. “His psyche is already fractured—and given his disposition, memory erasure would suit best, or else, he wouldn’t forget anyone. Not her. And especially not her.”
There was venom in her voice at the final word.
“Which presents a fascinating irregularity,” she continued, tilting her head. “Affection should decay under repeated despair. Yet in his case, it persists. How curious, don’t you think, dear?”
The words hit Beatrice like a rush of blood to the ears.
A roar echoed inside her thoughts.
Her fist curled tightly, nails biting into her palm as she faced the woman.
And yet this woman was no liar. If anything, she was like a mother to her.
Someone Beatrice trusted deeply.
After nearly five years of living here, her mother had called her to the Central Park of Kyo for reasons still unknown. And now here she stood—conflicted, trembling, thinking.
She forced herself to breathe, waiting out the panic. When she looked up, the woman’s face was still blurred—yet she could sense the faint satisfaction there.
Perhaps even a smile.
Carefully—very carefully—Beatrice chose her words.
“…Betty detects no falsehoods in your reasoning, in fact,” she said carefully. “However, Mother is underestimating Betty’s contractor, I suppose.”
The Great Spirit fidgeted, clasping her tiny hands behind her back. Nervous. Deliberate.
“Subaru has been moving forward, in fact. He spends his days with new companions and often with Betty, sometimes otherwise.”
She lifted her chin slightly, trying to sound confident.
“That should qualify as progress, I suppose.”
“Ordinarily—in most cases, yes.”
The woman gently patted Beatrice’s head, smiling beneath her hood. “But he is not ordinary,” the Witch murmured.
“In four centuries, I have yet to encounter another like him. So vibrant, yet so unwavering. Once his heart fastens onto something, it does not release its hold.”
“That was praise, for the record.”
“Betty finds that assessment is incorrect, I suppose!” Beatrice argued. “In fact, Subaru hasn’t even mentioned her name in the past four years, I suppose!”
She folded her arms, huffing slightly.
“Betty knows him best. Betty could even argue he has grown close to that blonde assistant of his, I suppose!”
“I would concede it as a possibility. After all, across the span of eons, all phenomena remain within the realm of potential.”
The Witch’s fingers continued to comb gently through Beatrice’s hair.
“However… the probability is low,” she sighed softly. “Still—speaking as one devoted to Knowledge…”
A faint smile touched her lips.
“The conclusion is best left to time. Only through observation will the truth reveal itself.”
Beatrice absorbed the words in silence, her gaze drifting to the cobblestones beneath her feet, deliberately avoiding her mother’s eyes. She knew her too well—just as she knew her contractor.
Greedy.
Scholarly.
Analytical.
Cold, calculating, and vague, to a fault.
Like a riddle. Sometimes even deceptive—but never an outright liar.
At least not to her.
But she couldn’t be right. Could she?
After all, her contractor was moving forward. He was making a name for himself. Finding happiness at last, after everyone else had found theirs years ago and left him behind.
Beatrice closed her eyes.
The memories returned: the pain, the disappointment, the heartbreak from five years ago. Back then, she had made a vow—to do everything in her power to ensure that something like that would never happen again.
Never again.
With resolve as bitter and unyielding as steel, she lifted her head to face her mother.
“Mother?” she called softly.
There was no answer.
She was gone.
The Great Spirit sighed. She shouldn’t have been surprised. That was just how her mother operated—always wandering, always exploring, appearing and disappearing as she pleased.
Before Beatrice could drift further into her thoughts, a familiar voice shattered her stupor.
“BEAKO!!!”
The shout rang out—lively as ever.
“AHA! There you are, Beako! Sylphy and I have been looking everywhere for you, where’d you run off to?!”
Beatrice barely had time to turn toward the source of the voice before she flew into the air.
“I MISSED YOU, BEAKOOOO!!!”
Subaru laughed loudly as he spun the tiny Great Spirit around, hoisting her high off the ground—much to her immediate and overwhelming irritation.
“AH! STOP SPINNING BETTY THIS INSTANT, I SUPPOSE!!!”
“And then the reptile bro at the end was like, ‘You think you’ve seen the last of the Conglomerate? We existed before you, and we’ll keep existing—but now as your enemy!’”
Subaru burst out laughing as he continued.
“And meanwhile the grumpy old coot goes, ‘You started this war, and we’ll see it through to its righteous end!’
He snorted.
“And the fox girl? Fluttering her eyelashes like that was supposed to do something!”
“Man, seriously…!”
He waved his free hand dramatically as he walked through the bustling downtown streets of Kyo, Beatrice’s small hand firmly clasped in his left, Sylphy trailing just behind them.
“Anyway, all I said was—‘BRING IT ON.’ Come at me. I don’t care.”
He grinned proudly.
“Pretty cool, right? Total protagonist moment.”
Subaru stretched his arms triumphantly.
“I came. I saw. I conquered.”
He jabbed a thumb at his chest.
“And that’s Natsuki Subaru for you! Broke Beyond compare! But never in despair!”
It was barely noon, and Subaru was already in full flex-fest mode—showing off to his contracted spirit and, partly, to his assistant as well. Around them, throngs of people slowed to stare, quietly judging the eccentricities—if not outright weirdness—of the raven-haired boy strutting through the streets.
Subaru didn’t care.
He never had.
All he wanted was to impress the people he loved—and that was exactly what he was doing right now.
Subaru style.
Still, something felt off.
Sylphy nodded along happily, clearly enjoying his antics, and that made him smile. But Beatrice remained silent.
Too silent.
That silence gnawed at him.
“Huh?” Subaru tilted his head, looking down at her. “What’s wrong, Beako?”
Beatrice suddenly stopped mid-stride, forcing Subaru to halt as well. Surprised, he scratched the back of his head, worry creeping into his expression. Before he could speak, the Great Spirit did so first.
“…Do you not think you’ve been far too absorbed in your work lately, I suppose?” she said. “In fact, whenever you speak these days, it is always about your enterprises… your dealings… those endless reforms you keep pushing through.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Judging by that look on your face, one of them has just succeeded, has it not?”
“Damn, Beako! You knew—”
“That’s beside the point, I suppose!” Beatrice cut him off before he could finish. “All you do is work. Speak of work. Surround yourself with work. and it worries Betty—in fact.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Subaru blinked. “I love what I do. And all of this isn’t just for me; it’s for us. All of us.”
He stared at Beatrice.
And Beatrice stared straight back into his eyes.
“Is it truly for us, Subaru?”
Her voice softened.
“Or even for yourself…?”
Her gaze didn’t waver.
“…Or is it merely something you use to keep yourself occupied?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Maybe he couldn’t.
Or maybe he didn’t want to give the answer forming in his chest.
Or maybe Beatrice was wrong. Maybe everything really was fine, and she was overreacting. But in a good way. After all, she was his partner—a partner too precious to him, and who worried too much for his sake.
The thought made him smile.
At least someone cared for him. Chose him.
Her. And Sylphy.
That made him smile even wider.
“Ahhh… is it that time of the week again? Beako’s Weekly Overthinking time?”
Before she could react, the raven-haired Japanese boy suddenly crouched down and pinched her cheeks.
“BEAKO IS SO CUUUTE—AAAH!”
“Cease your jesting, I suppose!!” Beatrice shouted, flailing as Sylphy burst into laughter beside them.
The scene dissolved into playful chaos for a few seconds—Subaru laughing, Beatrice protesting, Sylphy giggling uncontrollably.
Eventually, Subaru relented.
“Aight, fine, fine!” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll treat both of you real good. Let’s hit that place—you know, that cute downtown cozy restaurant Ana once owned, the delicious one.”
He grinned at the spirit loli.
“I’ll get your favorite, Beako. I swear.”
The clock struck midnight as the oil lamp burned low, its flame swaying lazily with every uneven breath that left his lungs.
The room smelled faintly of premium ink—one of the proud inventions of his company in this new world—and much more strongly of alcohol. Whiskey. The brand he marketed was The Drink from Another World.
Papers scattered across his luxurious desk: some crumpled, others scratched over so violently that the quill had nearly torn through them. An empty bottle lay on its side. Another rested half-finished in his hand.
Drinking and writing had become one of his favorite pastimes ever since moving to Kararagi. After a long day, it “helped calm the nerves,” he would say.
And today had been a long day.
After successfully initiating what he proudly called a coup against the “oligarchs of Kararagi,” he, Beatrice, and Sylphy had celebrated at one of Anastasia’s former restaurants. They had eaten nearly half the menu and spent ten gold yens in a single sitting.
He hadn’t minded it tho.
He was rich—absurdly so. He could afford dinners like that every night for the next three years, and it wouldn’t even halve his net worth. And truthfully, he would spend half of that again to see Beako smile.
Nonetheless, after dinner, they returned home. Sylphy had errands to run, and Beatrice said she wanted to catch up on her readings—her favorite “novels,” the ones Subaru himself had written.
The thought of his writings gaining traction in this world still felt strange to him. Yet somehow, they had found an audience.
With Subaru left alone, he retreated to his office.
And did exactly what he was doing now.
Subaru squinted at the page in front of him, the words beginning to blur.
“Memories… are all that stay…” he mumbled as he wrote, his tongue heavy. “Moments when joy lit every day…”
He stopped.
The quill hovered.
A drop of ink fell, spreading across the parchment like a stain he couldn’t take back.
“…Tch.”
His hand trembled.
“I try so hard to cast them away…”
He stared at the line.
Then laughed.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
It sounded more like something cracked, forcing its way out of his throat.
“Cast them away?” he muttered. “Yeah… sure, Natsuki Subaru. Great job so far.”
His eyes drifted unfocused past the paper and the room.
wasn’t the room anymore.
However, as the raven-haired Japanese boy’s mind drifted elsewhere, he failed to notice the sudden appearance of a small red button on his desk.
It hadn’t been there before.
It sat quietly atop the scattered papers, glossy and untouched, its surface catching the faint glow of the dying oil lamp.
Waiting.
Inviting.
Wanting to be pressed.