Chapter 48

Today marks the end of my tutoring. As I walked home, I checked the money Kana had transferred to my phone.

Through teaching my ingenious ideas to others, I earned enough so the original owner of this body could participate in the upcoming school trip without dipping into the savings Erica had been carefully accumulating.

I told Kana I didn’t care about the school trip, but that wasn’t entirely true. My interest wasn’t about what my friends would do or where they’d go, but rather whether the events during the trip might provide a clue to escaping this world.

While my real body’s owner might not return, I hesitated to touch the money Erica had saved. So, I took on tutoring as an excuse to study. Maybe Kana had been saving for something significant, not because she disliked her sister, but because it was money that needed to be reserved for later. For that reason, it would be better not to use it and have some contingency plan for the future.

As I was thinking about this, I slipped my phone into my pocket and glanced upward.

[Request Completed. As a reward, you’ll meet one of the heroines.]

That window was one of the reasons I stopped relying heavily on requests.

The first request went well with the system’s help, but after that, the heroines I met as rewards were all strange. From a blonde delinquent leading bearded men in black suits demanding debt repayment, to fortune tellers sneaking hands into my wallet, and massage therapists whose intentions seemed highly explicit, these meetings turned out to be harmful. The Student Council I assisted was also a bunch of bizarre individuals, and I didn’t want to get deeply involved with them anymore.

In the end, the ones I met during my first request were just beginner’s luck.

I realized I didn’t need to keep taking on requests, though I wouldn’t completely stop.

[A heroine you’re about to meet is trying to avoid you. Optimal behavior is being enforced to progress the event.]

That was another reason.

As cars whizzed by, I waited for the green light at the crosswalk when suddenly a window appeared.

Before I could sense anything ominous from the window, a massive force pushed my back, and I found myself standing on the crosswalk with cars rushing past.

“Can’t believe you’d try crossing on a red light. Maybe you thought divine protection would stop you from getting hurt, but isn’t that a bit reckless?”

While I couldn’t see her face, I could feel someone pulling my hand and a husky voice speaking. The softness of her touch brought me to the sidewalk safely.

Even without looking, I could feel someone was holding my hand. Thanks to her help, I made it to the sidewalk from the crosswalk.

Looking at my rescuer, her black hair reminiscent of a night sky and her golden eyes like the sun gave her an expansive, almost otherworldly appearance. Though I didn’t recognize her, her previous reaction suggested she knew something about me.

She was beautiful, wearing a gray hoodie, not overly concerned with appearance, but even so, she took my breath away—someone who could overshadow even the heroines I had met.

Though divine protection might have kept me safe from the car, it was polite to thank her. But her face silenced my words.

Before I could speak, she pulled me further onto the sidewalk and asked cautiously:

“Or, are you trying to d*e like last time?”

That statement confirmed my suspicion. Knowledge about my self-harm, a level 1 restriction, wasn’t common knowledge. Kana didn’t know about it yet.

So, this woman was either close to me like my sister, or someone at school who naturally heard news about me. I checked above her head.

[Mysterious Beauty]

As expected, no name, role, or abilities appeared.

Someone with such striking looks would have been memorable if we’d met at school. Either she was close to me and heard about me even when not present, or she was from a distant class where my reputation might have reached her.

“What’s your name?”

Since I had no intention of committing s*icide, I ignored her indirect question about me attempting to d*e and asked what I really wanted to know.

I didn’t want to hear sympathy or sermons about my presumed s*icide attempt.

“Name…?”

The heroine was undoubtedly the [reward] for the week-long request I’d completed, but her name not appearing, combined with her familiarity, indicated she was close enough to figure out if I knew her name.

“For now, call me Iska. It’s a simple pun. If I say this much, you should know it, right?”

—Is her habit of playing with names a reference to the queen who played with names at school? But if it was her, she wouldn’t bother saving me.

The first thought that came to mind with the name “Iska” led me to exclaim,

“If Iska, then…!”

I’d heard the name many times—it was often in Japanese anime or manga, named after some real bird, though I couldn’t recall which. I only remembered it was occasionally used as a person’s name.

She nodded vigorously, shaking her hooded head.

“Yeah, you should know. How simple can this pun be? Someone as smart as you wouldn’t possibly not know—”

“Japanese?”

The name Iska seemed to come up more often in Japan. I vaguely remembered it being the name of some real bird, though I forgot which. I only remembered it was occasionally used as a person’s name.

Her looks were anything but Japanese, but it made sense for a Korean to have an unusual hair and eye color. Surely, it was because of some visual novel effect that made her skin unnaturally pale despite being Japanese.

Thinking of “Rao Ha,” I could believe she was Japanese, yet my brilliant deduction seemed incorrect as she glared at me.

“Are you dumb? Or are you pretending not to know? I showed you once before. Why do you keep pretending not to know every time we meet? If you’re mad about that thing, I can understand it, but this pretense is kind of childish, don’t you think?”

She showed me once before? I couldn’t remember, so it had to be something the other entity in this body had seen.

So, it seems the true owner of this body met her in this form, and she thinks I’m just pretending not to know because I usually see another appearance.

I examined her face, resembling the night sky, but couldn’t recall anyone with such features. Honestly, I couldn’t fathom any reason why she would disguise herself at school.

A far-fetched assumption came to mind—being targeted by some organization or being a fugitive who needed to hide her appearance—but if that speculative assumption were true, there’d be no reason for her to be walking around in her true form.

Besides, why did she expect me to know something I clearly didn’t remember? Please, just tell me what “that thing” is.

Asking outright would reveal my memory loss, so I refrained.

“I’m not stupid, but I have no such memory. Maybe you think you showed me, but in reality, you haven’t. If you did show me, why don’t you reveal your regular form here? Just to confirm, right?”

It was perfect rhetoric.

Not confirming whether I remembered, yet subtly provoking her pride to naturally reveal her normal form—this was an impeccable persuasion technique.

Is this what they call gaslighting—making someone believe what you want without their knowledge? I marveled at my skill as her lips parted.

“Either you genuinely forgot, or you completely ignored my words back then. In that case, I’ll just stop talking. Meh.”

Despite my impeccable rhetoric, she responded by closing one eye and sticking out her tongue. A heroine, undoubtedly an adult over 20, actually said and did “meh.”

How childish. I sighed, touching my forehead to check for heat.

It was hot.

I was frustrated.

She might not reveal any special abilities, but her talent for provoking irritation was undeniable. Losing control of my composure so easily, I prepared to headbutt her, aiming for a fatal strike to her face.

As I was about to headbutt, she pressed her finger to my forehead, someone who had either witnessed or sat closely enough to hear me threaten a headbutt before.

With powers beyond normal parameters—or perhaps the true owner of this body was prone to headbutting.

“How about we leave here? Standing on the crosswalk is kind of annoying. I’ll take you home.”

She knows where I live? Who is she? Honestly, even if I knew her identity, it wouldn’t change much.

But usually, those who hide their identities in romantic visual novels tend to be important characters, so I was curious. Knowing her identity might also explain why I couldn’t see Rao Ha’s role.

“Let’s go. If we delay, I’ll be late for school tomorrow.”

Her hand on my forehead naturally moved to extend a palm toward me.

What does that mean? As I pondered, she grabbed my hand with that very hand and crossed the green-lit pedestrian walkway. There was no reason for me to resist.

If she really knew where I lived, there was no good reason to refuse. And it would be good to observe any distinguishing traits that others couldn’t see while walking together.