At 5:30 p.m., it was too early for a sunset glow; bright sunshine lavished the earth.

Aozawa bid farewell to the Kendo club students at the school gate and walked home alone.

Reaching the door to Room 601, he turned the knob and called out as he stepped inside, "I'm back, Chitose."

The balcony's sliding door was open. A warm breeze drifted into the living room. As it passed through the kitchen, it carried the scent of grilled steak, brushing against his cheek.

Aozawa took a deep breath, closed the door behind him, and asked curiously, "Smells great. Are we skipping a regular dinner tonight?"

Inside the kitchen, Morimoto Chiyoda flipped the steaks and turned to say, "No rice tonight. I specially bought two large Kobe beef steaks to go with your favorite fruit mix for our evening meal."

"What's the special occasion today?"

Surprise showed on Aozawa's face. In the Morimoto family, Kobe beef wasn't a regular indulgence; it was usually reserved for special celebrations.

Morimoto Chiyoda smiled and explained, "It's about my work; things have finally stabilized. So I wanted to celebrate a little. Didn't you complain this morning that I've been neglecting you lately? I've done some self-reflection, so this Kobe steak is your reward."

"Good, keep it up."

Aozawa nodded with mock gravity, washed his hands, and then sat down on a high stool.

In front of him was a bowl of fruit mix with pitaya, honeydew melon, banana, and mango.

He picked up a fork and skewered a slice of banana coated in a sweet, milky dressing. The sweetness on his tongue was exquisite. Paired with the soft texture of the banana, it was a true delight.

"Delicious."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Chitose, as a reward, here's a piece of pitaya for you."

Aozawa picked up a piece of pitaya with his fork, gesturing for her to come over and try it.

Morimoto Chiyoda rolled her eyes at him. "Rewarding me with something I made for you? Should I thank you for your 'generosity'?"

"No need to be so polite. It's the least I could do," Aozawa replied with a grin, not feeling there was anything amiss with his actions.

He was skillfully living off her; why should he feel guilty?

Morimoto Chiyoda glared at Aozawa, set down the spatula, and stepped forward, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear with her right hand.

She leaned down and bit into the piece of pitaya.

Her vivid red lips, now touched with a hint of white cream, looked exceptionally alluring. A flick of her tongue, and her lips were once again a vibrant red.

"Chitose, have another piece."

He quickly speared another.

Morimoto Chiyoda didn't eat it but gave him a look that spoke volumes, her allure utterly captivating. She knew exactly what Aozawa was trying to do by feeding her, yet sometimes she couldn't resist the inner stirring to play along. Even knowing such actions could easily lead to sparks flying, she reveled in the thrill of repeatedly testing those boundaries. By teasing Aozawa, she was also stoking the flames within her own heart.

Morimoto Chiyoda straightened up and continued to watch the steaks in the pan.

Aozawa could only pop the offered pitaya into his own mouth.

Perhaps he was overthinking it. Amidst the sweetness, the pitaya seemed to carry a hint of rich, aged wine. It seemed to be the taste of Chitose's lipstick and perfume.

Damn, when would he finally get to truly savor all of Chitose?

His mind racing with thoughts of the future, Aozawa returned to eating the fruit on the table, trying to cool his ardor.

「...」

The well-done Kobe steak tasted merely average. After all, Chitose's cooking skills couldn't compare to those of restaurant chefs; she couldn't manage to keep a well-done steak tender.

Aozawa wiped his mouth with a napkin, sat on the high stool, and chatted with Morimoto Chiyoda for a while before saying, "Chitose, I'm going out for a night run."

Suspicion flickered in Morimoto Chiyoda's eyes. "You run so late every day. Where do you go off to 'play'?"

"A man needs his secrets."

Aozawa didn't want to lie to Morimoto Chiyoda; he chose to remain silent or avoid the topic altogether.

Morimoto Chiyoda studied his face carefully. His forehead was broad, and his brow clear of any gloom. He looked quite cheerful, not at all like a boy who had picked up bad habits.

"Don't you dare mess with anything you shouldn't out there. If I find out, you're dead."

"Chitose, I'm not that kind of person," Aozawa answered with a smile and stood up. "I'm off then."

"Remember, don't come back too late. If you're back past nine-thirty, you'll face the consequences."

"Alright, Queen, you can rest assured," Aozawa replied cheekily and stepped out the door.

He took the elevator to the ground floor and began sprinting along his thirteen-kilometer-per-hour route.

When he reached the familiar little park, the streetlights were still flickering, as if the local government had forgotten about the broken lights here. Light and shadow alternated across the park.

Panting heavily, he crouched down, hands touching the ground, and used his Catalyst sensing ability.

In an instant, his perspective shot upwards. There weren't as many images as before. Within a one-kilometer radius, only this park was paved with this type of flooring. He could only see and hear what was happening within this park. In this state, the fatigue from his body vanished. He quietly observed, ensuring there were no sounds in the park. He deactivated his ability, and his breathing was no longer as labored. This was also his way of relieving fatigue.

Aozawa turned and walked into the woods, his body gradually dematerializing, becoming translucent.

With a thought, the small woods vanished from sight, replaced by a far more expansive vista.

Aozawa stood atop the Tokyo Skytree, taking in the night view of Tokyo at a glance. Myriad colorful lights dotted the darkness, outlining the shapes of buildings and streets. The roar of the wind echoed in his ears. Occasionally, he could see colorful lights winking in the sky.

Those were airplanes.

Aozawa looked up, and a thought occurred to him.

He instantly appeared inside an airplane. He saw rows of seats filled with people from both Asia and Europe. The flight attendants walking by wore very fetching short skirts. He used his X-ray Ability for a peek. They really live up to the name 'flight attendant.' Their style is certainly different, he mused.

He floated up and phased into the cockpit, eager to see the environment inside for himself. In the past, he had only seen it in movies. He entered the cockpit, gazing at the myriad lights and instrument panels, the meanings of which were completely lost on him, and glanced once more at the hazy night outside.

His curiosity sated, Aozawa didn't linger. With a thought, he vanished from the airplane's cockpit.

If Catalyst Induction elevated his spirit to a god-like realm, then Schrödinger's Cat made him feel as if he *had* become a god. The feeling of appearing anywhere with a mere thought, of looking down upon all mortals—it was truly magnificent.

Aozawa stood atop Kyoto Tower, surveying the city, steeped in its rich historical atmosphere. Kyoto at night has a beauty distinct from Tokyo's, he thought.

「...」

Sakura Ayame suspected that ill fortune had singled her out today. Just moments ago, she was a popular blogger. Good at her 'craft' and daring. She worked in the faceless video service industry on some of the shadier apps. Sometimes one-on-one, other times live-streaming for a broad online audience. She worked regularly for a few hours every night, earning over a million Yen a month. In this line of work, if you were diligent, you could easily earn those men's money.

Sakura Ayame worked hard and encountered her share of viewers with rather perverse tastes. During one-on-one sessions, she certainly endured her share of hardships. All sorts of bizarre requests came her way, but as long as the 'masters' paid extra, nothing was out of the question. What she feared most were requests to perform while concealing her activities in public. She'd had several close calls. Her patrons found it incredibly thrilling. She, however, only felt terror. Exposure meant her reputation would be utterly ruined.

Today, as usual, to provide her audience with some novelty, she had intentionally snuck into Kamo River Park, which was supposedly closed for maintenance. She hid in the bushes to live-stream. Normally, she just needed to aim the camera downwards and whisper a few things to her audience to wrap up the broadcast. But during the broadcast, an accident occurred—the view from the bush where she was squatting happened to capture the abduction of a homeless man.

Though, perhaps 'accident' wasn't the right word. Sakura Ayame knew a homeless man frequented the area and had deliberately chosen that bush to give her viewers an extra thrill. She aimed to create the suspenseful possibility that any sound might attract the homeless man, leading to the kind of risqué scenario her viewers craved. Playing up such titillation was an easy way to draw viewers into her stream.

But Sakura Ayame could never have imagined that someone would actually abduct a homeless man tonight. Coincidentally, she witnessed that very scene. And even more coincidentally, the timing of the abduction coincided with her body's... physiological urge.

I really shouldn't have drunk so much water, she lamented.

What should have been a delightful moment of raking in gifts from her viewers instead drenched Sakura Ayame in a cold sweat. The sound she made was too distinct; the kidnappers heard her urinating.

Realizing she'd been discovered, Sakura Ayame scrambled to her feet and sprinted for the exit.

「...」

「Time returned to the present.」

"Guys, this is the address! Hurry and call the police for Sakura!" Sakura Ayame's voice carried a hint of sobbing. Her running blurred the livestream camera feed, leaving only the roar of the wind.

But the viewers were not in a rush to call the police. Some said it was a script, some said it seemed not to be, some wondered if the blogger was really about to be assaulted by the homeless man. They chattered excitedly, yet not one of them considered calling the police for her.

Although Japan was already inextricably linked with certain 'colorful' industries in the eyes of the world, its citizens stubbornly maintained an image of personal integrity. They saw themselves as upstanding individuals who could maintain their composure and avoid improper thoughts, even with various adult establishments lining the streets. Calling the police would involve explaining how they witnessed the incident, which could, in turn, tarnish their own reputations.

"Please, this isn't an act! Please call the police for me!" Sakura Ayame gasped for breath, on the verge of tears. She couldn't call the police herself; any distraction looking at her phone might allow her pursuers to catch her.

Despite her caution, Sakura Ayame found herself cornered. The park's back gate was locked at night! Only then did she remember she had ignored the 'Closed for Maintenance' warnings and snuck in through the main entrance.