"Amon, how'd things turn out in the 23rd Ward…?"
"Ah... Lancer, you know Mado-san said not to discuss anything work-related with you until you're fully healed..."
"Alright, alright~ forget I asked~"
Lancer, lying helplessly in his hospital bed, could only wave his hand dismissively at Amon Koutarou's awkward face. Someone must've informed Mado Kureo about him being severely injured even before that last strike, because the moment he woke up in the hospital, what greeted him wasn't the warm embrace of comrades, but a furious scolding from a certain elder.
Thinking this, he unconsciously glanced toward Mado Akira, who was sitting nearby with her legs crossed. Sure enough, the informant had to be her. Still, one side black-stockinged, long-legged; the other wrapped in white bandages... it certainly had its own kind of charm—
Ahem.
As if sensing Lancer's shameless gaze, Mado Akira... merely uncrossed and recrossed her legs.
Though she continued staring down at some documents, Lancer wasn't an idiot with a negative IQ. How could he not realize her attitude toward him had subtly changed since that day?
But the problem was… so what? He didn't have much time left...
In a little over ten days, he'd be leaving. Akira was the daughter of his benefactor, the only family the man had left. He didn't want to leave her with any bitter memories, so he chose to play dumb, pretending he knew nothing. Disappointing a woman's affection was better than hurting her.
Though Lancer always claimed proudly he'd played over 300 H-games, deep down, he was essentially a veteran-level wizard without any actual battlefield experience. That was clear enough from how he'd turned away the widow, Fueguchi Ryouko, who'd practically offered herself to him on a silver platter earlier.
After all, even if something had happened, Fueguchi Ryouko would certainly have hidden it from her daughter and everyone at Anteiku. It would've been a guaranteed no-risk scenario. But due to his personality, he'd simply walked away.
Undoubtedly, Lancer's logic had no major flaws—but he overlooked one critical detail: aside from those purely raunchy nukige that lacked all sense, the most crucial trait in the protagonist of pure-love visual novels was the ability to feign ignorance. After all, if you couldn't play dumb, how could girls ever innocently deliver themselves right to your doorstep?
For example... right now.
As mentioned before, Mado Akira originally disliked Lancer's personality. He always charged recklessly ahead, leaving her spending far too many days stuck in a hospital room watching him recover—a complete waste of time. After all, her goal matched her father's: revenge against the Owl!
Yet somehow, whenever she saw him fearlessly charging forward, instinctively protecting her without realizing it, she felt an indescribable sense of security. She hated this feeling yet found herself irresistibly drawn to it.
Because only at these moments would she forget she was an elite investigator who'd graduated top of her class, instead remembering she was merely a 21-year-old girl. Her peers were still in college enjoying innocent romances, while she was locked in deadly struggles on the frontlines against Ghouls.
But seeing his clueless—whether genuinely or deliberately stupid—expression just drove her crazy.
"Um… Akira, why are you glaring at me?"
"…"
Looking at him scratching his head foolishly, averting his face yet still sneaking glances at her, what else could Akira do but sigh? She absolutely refused to admit she'd developed feelings for this sort of man. Back in elementary school, boys were already secretly confessing to her. Now this guy—over twenty and and built as hell—why couldn't he be a little more proactive?
Compared to the hospital room, where one was feigning ignorance and the other radiated hostility, Amon Koutarou—currently peeling an apple for Lancer—was ironically the first to sense the tension.
I don't know exactly what's happening, but right now retreat seems wise.
If Lancer was playing dumb, then Amon Koutarou genuinely had zero understanding of romantic relationships.
Having grown up in an orphanage, he'd always lacked something emotionally compared to normal people. Coupled with the fact his foster father had been a Ghoul, he'd experienced horrors normal people couldn't imagine. He was innately missing something when it came to feelings.
But even missing something, his instincts still clearly told him the smartest thing to do right now was minimize his presence—avoid being noticed by either of them at all costs.
He thought this, and he acted accordingly—but reality rarely cooperates with one's wishes…
Knock-knock.
"Lancer-san, are you awake?"
With a polite knock, the door gently swung open, and a short-haired girl with violet hair carefully peeked inside. Three sets of eyes instantly locked onto her, causing her body to involuntarily tremble.
From a certain perspective, Kirishima Touka was now experiencing exactly what Lancer had previously gone through—though her luck was a bit better. Lancer had been scrutinized by one SSS-rated Ghoul, two SS-rated, and two S-rated; she was merely under the scrutiny of two First-Class Investigators and one Second-Class Investigator.
However, each of their gazes held different meanings. Lancer's eyes were filled with surprise—surprise at why Touka, a Ghoul herself, had come to visit him. Amon Koutarou, meanwhile, wore an expression clearly communicating, "Ah, so that's it." Obviously, this overly quiet yet imagination-prone man was already forming assumptions; if Lancer had known, he'd probably knock on Amon's head, demanding, "Exactly what do you think you've figured out?!" Akira's gaze was the most normal, simply cautious and scrutinizing.
"Rank 1 Lancer, is this your friend?"
"Ah, she's just a girl working at the café I often visit. Didn't you meet her last time?"
Perhaps because Akira was naturally imposing, or due to his own guilty conscience from playing dumb, Lancer's voice was unusually subdued. Akira herself seemed briefly startled by how bluntly he answered her question.
Kirishima Touka, on the other hand, had no idea why this female Investigator was suddenly acting so hostile toward her. But she belonged firmly to the type who seemed gentle outwardly but was steel beneath; naturally, she met this inexplicable provocation head-on.
"Lancer-san, you haven't been coming to the café lately, so I was a little worried. The manager told me you were hospitalized, so… I brought some of your usual coffee…"
As she spoke, Touka pulled out a thermos from behind her back. Honestly, visiting a hospital with coffee was admittedly a bit strange—no one brings coffee to hospitals—but unfortunately, coffee was the only thing Touka knew how to prepare.
Watching Touka carefully pour hot coffee into a cup and personally bring it toward Lancer's lips, Akira's eyes immediately turned dangerous. Unfortunately, Akira, who had no real experience in romance, couldn't possibly realize Touka had no particular feelings for Lancer. She'd merely taken the manager's advice to visit, intending to lay groundwork for future cooperation.
Yet Touka's behavior inadvertently sparked something typical among girls their age—defiance.
I don't know why you're glaring at me, but now I'm definitely staying.
A peculiar atmosphere instantly permeated the room. Lancer, face filled with embarrassment, stared at Touka, who'd switched from her usual coldness to a gentle smile. Then he glanced back at Akira, arms crossed, legs gracefully folded, head slightly tilted upward, clearly looking down at him. He suddenly had no clue how to react.
Helpless, Lancer shot a pleading look toward the last person in the room—Amon Koutarou!
My god! This guy had finished peeling the apple and had even started carving it into some shape?! Judging by his intense concentration, Amon was clearly taking this seriously!
Seriously playing dumb!