The white, sterile training room began to dim.
The blank walls without windows or doors suddenly rippled like water struck by a stone, and before Shiro and Tomoko, massive metal doors slid apart with a soft hiss.
A stream of fresh, cool air hit them immediately, carrying the scent of ozone, expensive coffee, and something faintly electric.
— "Welcome" — the System announced in a flat, emotionless voice. — "Initialization phase complete. You are now entering a neutral zone. Planet: Interdimensional Interval."
Shiro, still rustling in her luxurious antique silk, stepped forward — and froze.
Tomoko, clutching her sad, gurgling slime to her chest, squeaked and hid behind her back.
They were standing on a wide observation platform paved with white metal slabs. Below them — and all around them — sprawled a city so vast it defied comprehension.
It was a grandiose megapolis where the laws of physics seemed to exist purely for decoration.
Across a sky painted in soft peach-and-gold tones of an artificial sunset drifted floating islands crowned with ancient castles, side by side with neon skyscrapers of glass and chrome that pierced the clouds.
Far below, streams of light raced along multi-level transparent highways, while portal vortices flashed open in midair, spilling out creatures of the most unimaginable races and forms.
But one building drew the eye more than anything else.
At the very center of the city, crushing everything around it with sheer magnificence, rose a cyclopean tower like a bar of black gold. At its summit revolved a slow, hypnotic hologram of a hexagon.
Midas Bank, — Shiro read silently, unconsciously touching the fabric of her dress where her obsidian card rested.
She remembered the message about the Unknown Sponsor who had covered her regeneration bill. Just looking at that tower made her shiver. Whoever stood behind her card wielded power here that felt frighteningly absolute.
— "T-Tomoko's about to faint..." — the girl behind her whimpered, dizzy from the scale of it all. — "Everything here looks so... expensive. They won't charge us a tax just for standing here, right?"
— "Easy," — Shiro smirked, taking her by the hand. — "Let's find somewhere to sit. My neck hurts, your slime is melting, and I need to figure out this damn empty chat."
They took the elevator down and found a small, cozy café on one of the terraces.
After ordering a couple cups of tea — fortunately, the coins deducted from their basic balance did not trigger a System meltdown — Shiro opened the holographic Chat Group interface.
Since Krul was temporarily locked, she needed to act.
[Available: 3 Random Interdimensional Invitation Tickets][Activate candidate search?]
— "Screw it, why not," — Shiro muttered and confidently pressed Yes. — "Let's just hope the System doesn't saddle me with another depressed jelly. No offense, little guy."
The slime on Tomoko's table let out a long, drawn-out sigh that sounded like a slowly deflating balloon.
Lines of code, coordinates, and universe names flashed across Shiro's screen too quickly for her to read. Then three golden letters shot out from the interface and vanished into the digital void.
Somewhere in the Multiverse... [World 1: Holy Britannian Empire]
In a spacious, luxuriously furnished room at Ashford Academy sat a dark-haired young man.
A chessboard was laid out before him, but his gaze was fixed on empty space. Lelouch vi Britannia had only just obtained the Power of Kings — Geass. His mind was operating at extreme speed, constructing the first steps toward destroying the Empire.
Suddenly, the air directly in front of him distorted.
With a soft melodic chime, a translucent window appeared in space.
[You are invited to join the Interdimensional Chat Group. Administrator: Clumsy. Accept?]
Lelouch tensed instantly. His fingers slid toward his pocket.
Cornelia's new technology? Or that immortal witch C.C.'s handiwork? — his violet eyes narrowed.
The hologram had no projector. It was simply there, ignoring the laws of optics.
If this was an enemy, ignoring it could be interpreted as weakness — or mean losing a valuable source of information.
If it was an ally... then its resources needed to be exploited.
Lelouch smiled like a predator and, without hesitation, mentally issued the command.
— Accept.
[World 2: Tokyo, an alleyway]
A nasty, freezing rain was falling.
Denji sat on the wet asphalt with his back against a dumpster. His stomach growled so loudly it sounded like a demon snarling. Beside him, Pochita, the little Chainsaw Devil, wagged his tail sympathetically.
— "I'm so damn hungry, Pochita..." — Denji groaned, throwing his head back. — "If I don't eat at least a piece of moldy bread right now, I'm gonna start chewing on this trash can."
Right there in the falling rain, a bright panel flashed in front of his face.
[You are invited to join the Interdimensional Chat Group. Administrator: Clumsy. Accept?]
Denji stared blankly at the glowing words. He could barely read, but his back-alley instincts kicked in without fail — if something shiny appears and offers you a button to press, there might be profit in it.
— "Hey, glowing thing," — he asked hoarsely. — "If I hit Accept, do I get a burger? Or at least get to touch some boobs?"
The window flickered, offering no answer.
Denji shrugged and jabbed a dirty finger right into the center of the screen.
He had nothing to lose anyway.
[World 3: Entertainment Industry, Tokyo]
In a dim room lit only by the glow of a monitor sat Aquamarine Hoshino.
Dozens of tabs were open on the screen — articles, actor profiles, directors, producers. He was coldly and methodically searching for any clue, any thread leading to the one who stood behind his family's tragedy.
Behind Ai's death.
The sound of a notification made him glance away from the screen.
But it hadn't come from the computer. Nor from his smartphone.
A glowing dialogue box was floating a meter from his face.
[You are invited to join the Interdimensional Chat Group. Administrator: Clumsy. Accept?]
A dark, cold star lit up in Aqua's right eye.
He neither flinched nor panicked. His mind, trapped in perpetual paranoia, immediately began analyzing.
Optical illusion? Augmented reality? A retinal chip?
He passed his hand through the hologram.
His fingers felt nothing.
Whoever had sent this possessed technology he had never seen before.
Which meant it was either someone with unbelievable connections — or someone who had been watching him.
Aquamarine was used to playing other people's games in order to uncover secrets.
— Let's see what kind of fake this is, — he thought coldly, and accepted the invitation.
Interdimensional Interval. Café.
Shiro had just taken a sip of tea when the Chat Group interface hovering above the table suddenly exploded in a cascade of notifications.
Tomoko jolted and almost spilled her drink.
[User "Zero" has joined the chat][User "Chainsaw_Dog" has joined the chat][User "Aquamarine" has joined the chat]
— "Oh! Got a bite!" — Shiro rubbed her hands together in satisfaction, setting down her mug. Her demigod eyes gleamed with азарт. — "Well then, let's see who the System fished out of this multiversal puddle."
She quickly ran her fingers over the keyboard interface and sent the first message.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: Welcome, survivors! You are now in the Interdimensional Chat Group. Let me say this upfront: this is not a dream, not a hack into your brains, and not a prank. I'm Shiro. Make yourselves comfortable — things get... entertaining around here.
The replies came almost immediately.
[Zero]: A rather bold claim. Using such a sophisticated holographic projection for a simple prank would be a waste of resources. What is your end goal, "Shiro"? Who are you working for?
[Aquamarine]: I fully agree with the previous speaker. If this is some new form of spyware or a prank from TV producers, let me assure you that you are violating privacy laws. I am documenting this conversation.
Shiro snorted.
Two paranoiacs in one bottle. Intellectuals, damn them.
She was just about to type something sarcastic when the third one barged in.
[Chainsaw_Dog]: HEY! WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE'S MY BURGER?! I PRESSED YOUR STUPID BUTTON AND THERE'S NO FOOD! YOU SCAMMED ME?!
[Zero]: ...What?
[Aquamarine]: ...
Tomoko, peeking over Shiro's shoulder, swallowed nervously.
— "Sh-Shiro..." — she whispered. — "Am I imagining this, or did you accidentally gather a mafia boss, a secret agent, and... a homeless lunatic?"
Shiro leaned back in her chair and burst into cheerful laughter.
The tension from the bloody days in the ancient world finally slipped away.
— "Welcome to my chat, Tomoko," — she smiled, already preparing to type a reply.
Shiro smiled at the holographic screen where three completely different people — or not quite people — were trying to make sense of what was happening.
Paranoiacs and one starving idiot. An excellent starter set.
Her fingers quickly flew across the virtual keyboard.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: Alright, one at a time. @Zero, I'm not working for any empire, rebels, or government organizations. I'm the Administrator of this group, and my jurisdiction is a little... broader than one planet.[Clumsy (Admin)]: @Aquamarine, relax. Nobody's spying on you. I couldn't care less about your private life. We're in an interdimensional chat. That means the three of you are sitting in completely different universes right now.[Clumsy (Admin)]: @Chainsaw_Dog... dude, I physically cannot hand you a burger through the screen.
[Chainsaw_Dog]: THEN WHY THE HELL DID YOU INVITE ME HERE?! I'M DYING! POCHITA'S DYING TOO! LET ME OUT!
Shiro let out a heavy sigh.
Tomoko, timidly glancing at the screen, tugged at her sleeve sympathetically.
— "Shiro-chan... couldn't we somehow help him? He really sounds like he's about to die of hunger."
Shiro thought for a moment.
She opened the chat's system menu and suddenly noticed a subtle icon shaped like a gift box.
[SYSTEM: Interdimensional Item Transfer Function.][Base shipping cost (small weight/volume): 5 Midas Coins.]
Shiro's eyes gleamed slyly.
She called over the android waiter in the café and ordered the most basic but juicy cheeseburger in branded wrapping.
— "Watch and learn, Tomoko," — Shiro smirked.
She placed the hot burger directly on the holographic panel and pressed the transfer button.
The burger was enveloped in digital dust — and vanished from the table without a trace.
World 2: Tokyo
Denji was still whining as he slid lower against the rain-soaked dumpster wall when the air above his head parted with a soft pop.
Something warm and heavy fell directly onto his head, then rolled into his lap.
The boy froze.
Carefully, he picked it up.
It was a perfectly wrapped, astonishingly fragrant hot cheeseburger. Not a single drop of rain had touched it.
Denji stared at the burger.
Then at the interface.
Then back at the burger.
He sank his teeth into it so fast he almost swallowed the wrapper too. The taste of real meat and cheese made tears spring into his eyes.
[Chainsaw_Dog]: ADMIN = GOD!!! I WILL WORSHIP YOU! CAN I HAVE A COLA TOO?! AND BOOBS?!
[Zero]: ...Spatial matter transfer?[Zero]: Impossible. Even assuming hidden delivery drones, the object could not have appeared out of nowhere in an enclosed space. Are you manipulating wormholes? What is the technological basis of your "System"?
Shiro smirked.
This guy catches on fast. Too fast.
[Aquamarine]: Tricks.[Aquamarine]: Spatial delivery sounds convincing to the naive, but this could still be a highly sophisticated illusion or a pre-arranged stunt involving accomplices. You speak of "multiverses," yet you behave like an ordinary human. Who exactly are you, "Shiro"? Why are you staging this performance?
Shiro rolled her eyes.
This Aquamarine was unbelievably insufferable. Zero faith in magic or miracles — only cold logic and suspicion.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: I am an ordinary human. Well, technically, at this point I'm more like a demigod with a wrecked sleep schedule and fang marks on my neck, but until yesterday I was just a normal college girl.[Clumsy (Admin)]: I'm not some evil mastermind. Just a couple days ago I was sitting in a café with my best friend, eating parfait and complaining about life, and then I got dragged into this System. Want proof I'm not an AI or some perverted old man from the intelligence services? Fine. Catch.
Shiro opened her personal gallery synchronized with the System — thankfully, her phone archive had carried over into the interface — and selected one of the latest photos.
It showed Shiro herself — tired, but wearing a sincere smile, holding an iced coffee.
And beside her, pressing her cheek against Shiro's and making a peace sign at the camera, was another girl laughing brightly.
The girl had gorgeous dark hair with a violet sheen, and in her unbelievable shining eyes burned bright six-pointed stars. She wore a funny cap hiding her face from annoying fans, but her signature smile was unmistakable.
Her purple bun. Ai.
Shiro hit Send.
[File attached: IMG_8834.jpg][Clumsy (Admin)]: There. That's me and my friend in my home world. No secret conspiracies. Just coffee and exhaustion. Believe me now?
World 3: Entertainment Industry, Tokyo
Aquamarine sat before the monitor with his arms folded across his chest.
His face was expressionless.
He was sure the photo would be some AI-generated fake or a stock image meant to throw dust in his eyes.
The image loaded in the chat.
Aqua gave it a lazy, assessing glance.
An ordinary girl with black hair. A café. Coffee.
Then his gaze shifted slightly to the right.
To the second girl.
The air in the room turned icy.
His heart skipped a beat — then began pounding with such painful, deafening force that his ears rang.
His breath caught.
Dark hair with a violet sheen. That curve of the lips. And the eyes...
Eyes with stars shining inside them.
Eyes whose light had gone out in the blood-soaked entryway of their apartment many years ago.
Aqua lurched forward so sharply he nearly overturned his chair. His trembling fingers dug into the edge of the desk. The star in his right eye blazed with a dangerous, almost insane light.
Deepfake, — he thought frantically, cold sweat running down his back. — Photoshop. A double. A forgery. She isn't here. She's dead.
But he was a professional in the industry. He knew what fakes looked like.
He had spent years studying every available photograph of Ai — every pixel, every video, every detail.
This photo... it was real.
It was recent.
The lighting details, the uneven fold in her cap, the natural shadow from her hair — no fake could imitate that with such perfect precision.
And most importantly — Ai looked older in this photo.
Not by much. But older than the age at which she had been killed in his world.
This was Ai who had survived.
Ai who was simply drinking coffee with her friend in some other, normal world.
Aquamarine forgot about spies.
Forgot caution.
The entire cold, calculating armor he had built over years shattered apart with a violent crack, laying bare the wounded soul of a child who had lost his mother.
His fingers trembled over the keyboard.
He deleted three typed messages before finally sending one.
[Aquamarine]: The girl on your right. The one with violet hair.[Aquamarine]: What year was this photo taken?
[Aquamarine]: Answer me. Right now.
Interdimensional Interval. Café.
Shiro frowned.
Aquamarine's skepticism had suddenly shifted into something wild — almost frighteningly urgent.
Her fingers froze above the keyboard.
An instinct honed by years in the orphanage made her bristle.
No one touched Ai.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: That's Ai. And we took this photo literally a day before I got dragged here. Why? How do you know her? We grew up in the same orphanage. She's the closest person I have. And if you're some kind of psycho stalker, I swear I'll find a way to get to you in your universe too.
The chat went still.
For several long seconds, absolute heavy silence hung over the group.
Even Lelouch and Denji stopped typing, sensing the sudden shift in tone.
Then a new message appeared.
[Aquamarine]: Listen to me very carefully.[Aquamarine]: On the day of her first concert at Tokyo Dome, someone will ring her doorbell.[Aquamarine]: Do not let her open the door. Lock her in. Tie her to a chair. Do whatever you have to.[Aquamarine]: If you don't, a fan with a knife will kill her right in front of you. And you won't be able to change a thing.
Shiro froze.
The cup of tea in her hand tilted dangerously.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: What kind of bullshit are you talking about? What fan? What knife? If this is a prank, it's not remotely funny. Ai doesn't have enemies. How the hell could you possibly know what's going to happen?!
[Aquamarine]: Because I saw it. In my world, it already happened.[Aquamarine]: You want proof? Fine. Look at this. But keep one thing in mind — Ai publicly hid her past in the orphanage, and she definitely hid us.
[File attached: IMG_001.jpg]
Shiro swallowed the lump rising in her throat and opened the image.
In the old, slightly blurred photo was Ai.
A little older than Shiro was used to seeing her, but with the same unchanged smile.
In her arms sat two toddlers — a boy and a girl with the same unbelievable starry eyes.
[Aquamarine]: I'm her son. In my universe, I'm almost the same age now that she is in your photo.[Aquamarine]: In my world, Ai was murdered when I was three years old. Right in the entryway of our apartment.
Shiro's world collapsed.
She stared at the photo, and her mind pieced together the puzzle. The shape of the ears, the curve of the eyebrows, the gaze — things like that could not be faked.
Aquamarine knew about the orphanage.
Knew what Ai had hidden.
He wasn't lying.
Her best friend. Her only family. The person for whose sake she had endured every ounce of this world's bullshit...
...was doomed.
The teacup in Shiro's hand cracked and shattered into tiny fragments.
Hot tea spilled across the table, but she didn't even blink.
Inside her, something snapped with a deafening crack.
The demigod blood that had been slumbering peacefully in her veins all this time — responding only once, to a vampire's bite — suddenly boiled.
— "Shiro-chan?" — Tomoko squeaked, then instantly fell silent, instinctively shrinking into her chair.
The slime on the table compressed itself in horror into a tiny little dot.
The air in the café became unbearably heavy at once, as if gravity itself had multiplied several times over.
Furniture groaned pitifully.
A blinding golden glow burst from Shiro's eyes, piercing the half-darkness of the terrace.
A demigod.
Even at Administrator Rank Three, even without proper training, divine essence remained divine.
And right now, it was in a state of absolute, primordial fury.
The pressure slammed outward in all directions like an invisible shockwave.
The display windows of nearby shops split with webs of cracks.
The android waiter standing nearby sparked violently and dropped to his knees, its systems hitting critical failure from mana overload.
The sky over the entire district of the Interdimensional Interval darkened.
Ordinary users, low-ranking administrators, and random passersby in the streets panicked and crouched to the ground, feeling an invisible slab of concrete pressing onto their shoulders, robbing them of breath.
The air hummed, saturated with golden sparks of pure, uncontrolled divine energy.
Red warning messages began flashing before Shiro's eyes.
[WARNING! CRITICAL DIVINE ENERGY SURGE IN SECTOR 4!][PEACE ZONE PROTOCOL VIOLATION! PLEASE STABILIZE YOUR EMOTIONAL STATE!]
But Shiro didn't give a damn about the System.
Didn't care about Midas Bank, the gacha, or this entire interdimensional circus.
Her fingers, leaving dents in the holographic keyboard, typed one single message.
[Clumsy (Admin)]: I understand. Thank you.
With a sharp, almost angry motion, Shiro swiped the chat hologram aside. The screen folded shut.
Her gaze, burning with cold gold, lifted into empty space as if she meant to burn through the fabric of existence itself.
— "System," — Shiro said, her voice trembling with restrained rage, yet sounding terrifyingly quiet and commanding. — "How do I return to my home world? Right now."
A red system window instantly flared before her face, overriding the blinking warnings about divine mana overflow.
[SYSTEM: Processing request...][SYSTEM: Warning. Free movement into the Primary Timeline (Administrator's home world) is restricted to prevent temporal paradoxes.][Unlock condition: Administrator rank [V] achieved.][Alternative option: Purchase a one-time "Direct Intervention Ticket" at the central branch of Midas Bank.][Cost: 1,000,000 Midas Coins.]
Shiro clenched her teeth so hard they ground audibly.
One million coins. Or Rank Five.
Her base balance held only pitiful scraps of starter capital, and her rank was only three.
She did, of course, have that mysterious black card — but she didn't even know its PIN or terms of use. Would the Sponsor approve such a massive transaction for Shiro's personal goal?
She exhaled slowly.
The golden light in her eyes began to fade, and with it the monstrous pressure crushing the café terrace.
Shiro lowered her gaze to her trembling hands.
Before, she had thought all this was just some ridiculous game with the System, strange banners, and funny debts.
But now Ai's life was on the line.
— "Shiro-chan?.." — Tomoko called softly, barely above a whisper, afraid to move.
Shiro looked up at her.
The cheerful, sarcastic girl was gone.
Sitting before Tomoko now was a real Administrator.
— "Finish your tea, Tomoko," — Shiro said in an icy tone, rising from the soaked table and smoothing the folds of her antique dress. — "We're going to Midas Bank. I need to find out how much a life costs in this universe. And how I'm supposed to earn that damned million."
The sky over Sector Four of the Interdimensional Interval still crackled faintly with golden discharges.
The air smelled of ozone and burnt wiring.
Ordinary users, low-ranking administrators, and random pedestrians were pressed against the walls of buildings, watching with frightened eyes as a girl in a white antique dress walked by.
Shiro strode down the central avenue, ignoring the cracked holographic storefronts and sparking androids.
A cold, calculating anger had settled in her eyes.
Tomoko hurried after her, stumbling even on flat ground.
She was trembling so hard her teeth chattered softly.
The gray depressive slime in her arms, overloaded by divine aura and stress, had stopped being liquid entirely and compressed itself into a hard rubber ball with bulging panicked eyes.
Their destination lay straight ahead — the colossal black tower of Midas Bank.
But their path was cut off.
The air ahead distorted, and a man in a flawlessly tailored suit descended smoothly onto the avenue.
Instructor Simon.
The very same one who had lectured them in the white room, filling them with dread through speeches about debts and rules.
Now his face was twisted with anger, and in his hand pulsed a whip woven from dense purple mana.
— "Administrator 'Clumsy,'" — Simon said in an icy tone, blocking the path. — "Your uncontrolled burst of divine energy has violated Peace Zone safety protocols. Threat level: critical. The fine will be no less than one hundred thousand coins. I am forced to temporarily suspend your authority and—"
— "Move out of my way, Simon," — Shiro cut him off dully without slowing her step. — "I don't have time for you."
Simon's brows climbed from sheer disbelief at such insolence.
A third-rank rookie dared speak to him like that?
— "Such arrogance," — he sneered coldly. — "Just because you got lucky and pulled the Demigod race doesn't make you special. You are still dust in the system. Forced Subjugation!"
Simon swung his hand, and the purple whip shot toward Shiro like lightning, ready to bind her hand and foot.
Behind her, Tomoko let out a desperate shriek and crouched down, covering her head with both hands.
The slime dropped onto the marble with a dull thunk and rolled away.
Shiro instinctively tensed, ready to strike back with pure aura, but—
She didn't even have time to blink.
The space between her and Simon did not open into a portal.
It shattered like a pane of glass, raining down sparkling fragments.
From the rupture stepped a miniature figure with terrifying, absolute calm.
It was a girl in an impeccably ironed maid uniform — dark dress, snow-white lace apron, and a frilled cap perched over short pale hair.
From beneath the cap rose two smooth dragon horns, dark at the base and fading into a deep emerald at the tips.
Simon went pale.
His whip struck the maid directly in the face — and simply broke into sparks, leaving not even a scratch on her porcelain skin.
In her small hands, the girl delicately held a snow-white lily.
From the flower radiated such brilliant, otherworldly light that it cast surreal rainbow reflections across the maid's face and hair.
And from beneath that glowing, almost angelic fringe, a pair of utterly dead, piercing crimson eyes stared straight at Simon.
— "Trash obstructing a VIP client's path," — the maid said flatly, almost bored.
She made a single casual motion with the hand that was not holding the flower.
It did not resemble a spell or a strike.
She simply brushed him aside like an annoying speck of dust.
A deafening crash exploded across the avenue.
Instructor Simon — powerful administrator, terror of rookies — was swept away by an invisible shockwave of overwhelming force.
He flew backward for a hundred meters, tore straight through two holographic advertisement panels, and smashed with a horrifying crack into a marble bridge column.
Tomoko, watching this through her fingers, made a strangled sound like a broken toy squeaking.
The slime lying beside her on the pavement looked toward the place Simon had flown to — and then slowly, very carefully, spread itself into a perfectly flat puddle, pretending to be dead.
Shiro stared at the destruction, her mouth falling slightly open in surprise.
Simon, coughing blood mixed with pixels, stared at the maid in horror, her silhouette ominously lit by the lily's glow.
— "B-Bank Asset..." — he rasped, his eyes widening in panic. — "Impossible... You obey only... only the Higher... Guardians... the Ellipse of Creators..."
He looked at Shiro as if he had seen death itself — then finally lost consciousness, hanging limp against the column.
The maid elegantly dusted an invisible speck from her white apron, turned to Shiro, and bowed deeply with flawless precision.
The flower in her hands continued to glow softly.
— "My apologies for the delay, Lady Shiro," — she said, her voice velvet-smooth but emotionless. Her red eyes, in which a vertical slit flickered for a moment, were filled with absolute devotion. — "My name is Mashu. I am your personal financial manager and elite Asset, assigned to your account by direct order of your... patrons. Please follow me. Midas Bank is at your service."
Shiro stared blankly at the unconscious Simon, then at the horned maid with the glowing flower, and finally at the black card in her own hand.
Patrons? Ellipse of Creators? What kind of nonsense is that... I'm an orphan. I don't have anyone.
Her thoughts tangled together, but one of them burned brighter than the rest.
This monster-girl was her key home.
— "Uh... Tomoko, pick up your jelly thing and let's go," — Shiro said hoarsely.
Tomoko nodded frantically, tried to scoop the slime off the floor — it had glued itself to the marble out of terror like chewing gum, so she had to literally peel it off — and hurried after them on trembling legs.
They passed every line, turnstile, and security gate without delay.
All it took was one look from Mashu's terrifying crimson eyes for the bank guards to flatten themselves against the walls in horror.
The elevator carried them to the highest tier of the Midas Tower — a luxurious penthouse with panoramic windows overlooking the entire Interdimensional Interval.
Shiro was seated in a chair made from some unknown material so soft it felt unreal.
Tomoko curled up in the corner of a massive sofa, hugging her knees and rocking her slime, which was trembling in rhythm with her own heartbeat.
Mashu elegantly made the glowing lily dissolve into the air — the luminous reflections across her hair went out — then poured Shiro a cup of calming tea from a golden tea set.
— "What does my Lady desire?" — the dragon maid asked politely, folding her hands over her apron.
Shiro took a deep breath.
Time to get to the point.
She placed her black obsidian card on the glass table.
— "I need one million coins," — Shiro said firmly, looking the dragoness straight in the eyes. — "The System said that for a million, I can buy a Direct Intervention Ticket to my home universe. I don't know how your loans work here, but I'm willing to take the debt. I'll work it off through missions, clear dungeons, do whatever it takes. Set up the loan."
Mashu, whose face had until now been a perfect stone mask, suddenly went still.
Her red irises with vertical pupils widened slightly.
She looked at the card, then at Shiro, and then...
...blinked.
Twice.
— "Forgive me, Lady Shiro," — she said, and for the first time, genuine confusion entered her otherwise emotionless voice. — "Did you say... a loan?"
— "Yeah. A debt. A mortgage to save my friend. Call it whatever you want."
The dragon maid tilted her head to one side, as if trying to comprehend an especially complicated joke.
Something in her perfect internal programming had clearly short-circuited.
— "My Lady..." — Mashu carefully touched the obsidian card with the tips of her fingers. — "It seems you do not fully understand the nature of this card, nor the status of your Guardians. You cannot take a loan from Midas Bank."
Shiro's heart dropped.
A refusal?
So all of this had been for nothing?
Did that mean she would have to grind all the way to Rank Five until it was already too late?
— "Why?!" — Shiro shot up from the chair, and her eyes once more began glowing dangerously with gold. The slime in Tomoko's hands let out a pitiful squeak and hardened again. — "Because I'm only Rank Three?!"
— "No," — Mashu replied, gently but firmly seating her back down by the shoulders. — "Because technically... you are Midas Bank."
Shiro froze.
Tomoko hiccuped loudly in the corner, and the slime slipped from her hands and landed on the fluffy carpet with a wet plop.
— "This card," — Mashu said reverently, gesturing over the black obsidian, — "is linked to the primary reserve fund of the Bank's very Creator. Your Guardian. Even if you were to step out onto the balcony right now and reduce this city to dust, they would simply apologize for the dust getting your dress dirty."
The dragoness straightened and pressed several buttons on the interface built into the table.
A hologram of a golden ticket flared to life before Shiro.
— "You do not need a loan of one million coins, Lady Shiro," — Mashu concluded calmly. — "You merely needed to say: 'Withdraw it from the account.' The Direct Intervention Ticket is ready. Would you like to activate it immediately?"
Shiro stared at the golden ticket.
One million coins.
Absolute power.
Guardians she knew nothing about — yet who had laid an entire universe at her feet.
Her lips twitched into a nervous, slightly unhinged smile.
— "Aqua was right," — she whispered, clenching her fists. — "The System isn't a game. It's a cheat code. Mashu... activate the ticket. We're going home. And if that bastard with the knife even tries to come near Ai's door..."