"First, the timeline. When the virus broke out, when humanity lost the war. Then the classification of Gastrea, their regeneration levels, and where Initiators come from."
"As for the mechanized soldier program, I can give you a basic overview too."
"But anything beyond that… I'm afraid I can't help."
Rentaro Satomi held Gojo's gaze as he spoke, his tone steady.
Raised within the Tendo family and groomed for politics since childhood, he was far from naive. From Gojo's casual words, he had already sensed something dangerous.
Not from Gojo himself, but from whatever stood behind him.
If there really was a research facility capable of producing someone like him, someone who wielded power that bordered on the supernatural, then that place couldn't be ordinary.
If he were still part of the Tendo family, he wouldn't have to worry. Their influence would shield him.
But now?
After leaving with Kisara, he could barely afford a proper meal.
Taking on something like that research facility was out of the question.
The smartest move was simple. Keep his distance. Tell them what they wanted to know, then send them on their way.
If they lingered too long and that so-called organization came looking, things would get messy.
Gojo wasn't slow. He read the concern in Rentaro's eyes at a glance and smiled.
"Don't worry, Rentaro. That research facility won't cause you any trouble."
He paused, then added lightly, "Because we already destroyed it."
Beside him, Betty set down her teacup. "And we're strong enough to deal with anything else."
Silence filled the room.
Rentaro felt a flicker of regret. Bringing them here might have been a mistake.
They clearly had no intention of leaving quietly.
As for forcing them out…
He ran through the idea once, then discarded it immediately.
Just the fact that Gojo could fly and crush a Gastrea with that strange power made the outcome obvious. Even with Enju, it wouldn't change much. And Gojo wasn't alone. Betty hadn't even made a move yet.
Someone from the same background as him wouldn't be harmless.
After a long moment, Rentaro made his decision.
"If you really want to stay," he said slowly, "I won't stop you. But there's something you'll have to handle yourselves."
He spread his hands. "You've seen the state of this place. We're not exactly well off."
"To be honest, we're struggling just to eat."
There was no deception in his voice, only a quiet frustration.
It was the truth.
At the same time, he hoped it might discourage them.
Gojo didn't react. Instead, he turned to Betty and gave her a thumbs up.
Rentaro blinked, confused, just as Gojo suddenly looked back at him.
"Hey, Rentaro. Gold's still valuable in this world, right?"
Gold?
Rentaro hesitated, then nodded.
Even in 2031, with advanced technology, gold remained a critical material for high-end manufacturing. Its value hadn't dropped.
"I see. That makes things easy."
Gojo grinned and reached into his bag.
A heavy metallic clang echoed as something landed on the table.
Golden light flashed.
The weight alone made the teacups tremble, the liquid inside rippling dangerously close to spilling.
"Set everything up for us," Gojo said casually. "We'll split it with you. Sound fair?"
Rentaro's mechanical eye contracted, instantly scanning the object.
Composition confirmed.
Pure gold.
His jaw nearly dropped.
He had grown up surrounded by wealth, but that didn't mean he still had any.
Right now, he couldn't even afford proper meals for Enju.
Staring at the gold bar, everything else suddenly felt trivial.
The research facility. Hidden forces. None of it mattered compared to starving.
If it came down to it, dying in a fight sounded better than dying from hunger.
His throat moved as he forced himself to look away, trying to maintain composure.
Unfortunately, under the gaze of the Six Eyes, it was all painfully obvious.
"No… no problem," he said at last.
He knew these two would bring trouble.
But even half of that gold would solve his immediate crisis.
Despite his work as Civil Security paying well per mission, it was nowhere near enough for their current situation.
With that gold, even adding two more mouths wouldn't strain them for a long time.
It was faster than any job he could take.
"About housing," Gojo added, glancing around. "This place doesn't look livable."
Rentaro's lips twitched.
He couldn't argue with that.
"If you want to rent somewhere, I can help you find a place…"
The moment money was involved, his professionalism kicked in.
"Keep it simple," Gojo said, waving a hand. "No need to overthink it."
"If possible, let's move in today. Still early, we can pick up daily necessities after."
"Today…"
Rentaro frowned, thinking it over, then nodded.
"It's short notice, but I'll check. If nothing suitable is available, I can arrange a hotel."
"Appreciate it."
Gojo smiled.
Rentaro took a steady breath, maintaining a calm expression, though his eyelashes trembled slightly as he picked up the gold.
He stepped outside and made a call.
A short while later, he returned.
"I found a place," he said. "An apartment next to mine. The environment is average, but the rent's cheap. I can take you to see it."
"Works for me."
Gojo had no complaints. He had lived in worse conditions before, even in the Slums with Felt.
The important part was staying close to Rentaro.
"Let's go now."
Rentaro glanced at the clock, hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright."
He went to call Enju.
When she heard they were going to look at apartments, she frowned.
"Is that okay? You're still on the clock."
"Work doesn't really matter," Gojo cut in with a smile. "I doubt your salary beats a gold bar."
"A gold bar?!"
Enju froze, eyes widening as she turned to Rentaro.
He nodded.
"Damn rich people," she muttered, lips tightening in defeat.
"Let's see if you still say that when you're eating a full meal," Betty said with a faint, amused smile.
That ended the argument instantly.
"I wouldn't eat it anyway!" Enju shot back stubbornly.
But after they left the office and watched Rentaro exchange the gold for cash…
She fell silent.
The sheer number on the receipt was overwhelming.
She had never minded their life together, but she understood how hard it was to earn money.
That amount would take countless missions.
As they headed toward the apartment, Gojo glanced at Rentaro.
"You're Civil Security, dealing with Gastrea. The pay should be decent, right? But you don't seem well off."
"That's because of that woman," Enju huffed before Rentaro could answer. "She takes all his money."
"A woman?"
Gojo's expression shifted instantly to one of understanding.
Now that, he got.
He had seen this kind of thing before.
Back in another world, one of his teammates had been completely hopeless when it came to love. The kind who would throw away his life for a girl without hesitation.
"Figures," he said.
"You do seem to attract that type," Betty added dryly.
Gojo scratched his head. "It's not that bad. Subaru was just an exception. The others were normal."
"An exception?" Betty snorted. "Someone willing to die over and over for a girl isn't something you see every day. I've only seen two like that."
"You're not counting Roswaal too, are you?"
"I don't see why not."
Their conversation immediately caught Enju's interest.
She had always been clear about her own feelings.
She wanted to be Rentaro's girlfriend. That had never changed.
But there was Kisara Tendo.
His childhood friend.
Her biggest rival.
Not only the person Rentaro liked, but also the one draining his money.
"Is that really true?" Enju asked eagerly.
"Of course. If you're curious, I can tell you more. But in exchange, you tell me about this woman you mentioned."
"Her name's Kisara Tendo," Enju said, teeth grinding. "Rentaro's childhood friend. And my rival."
"She used his organs as collateral to take out high-interest loans to start a company. Then she spends most of the profits on her noble school tuition and her own dialysis treatments."
"And she comes over to eat all the time. We're so poor we're living off bean sprouts, and she still freeloads…"
The complaints poured out one after another.
Gojo and Betty exchanged a look.
This Rentaro guy… wasn't much better than Subaru, was he?
Loans with organs as collateral. Working himself to the bone while someone else spent the money.
That sounded less like a relationship and more like a walking ATM.
"Enju," Rentaro cut in quickly, stopping her.
"Hmph. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't be struggling like this. You wouldn't be unable to afford repairs for your prosthetics either."
"And you wouldn't have to work so hard. You barely even eat enough."
Her voice wavered slightly, eyes reddening.
She could manage, but Rentaro was at an age where he needed energy. Between school and missions, he often went out on an empty stomach.
Even his prosthetics were left unrepaired to save money for her inhibitor and ammunition.
Rentaro sighed, gently patting her head.
"Kisara has her reasons. She's not as bad as you make her sound."
Enju snorted and turned away.
"What about your friend?" she asked Betty. "Is he like this idiot too?"
Rentaro smiled helplessly.
"It's… complicated," Gojo said.
"One of them fell in love at first sight. Completely devoted from that moment on."
"He'd risk his life without hesitation just to help her. And that's without even confessing. Pure, one-sided devotion."