Kimura Momo had been smiling the entire time, standing quietly, letting Shirakawa Natsu sink into his thoughts before speaking slowly:"Mr. Natsu, I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression. Is there anything else you'd like me to clarify?"
Shirakawa Natsu froze for a moment. Everything seemed flawless—he was the one who had overreacted.
He noticed the two security guards' expressions subtly shifting, as if they couldn't understand why he had assumed such a gentle, modest woman could be a stalker.
He had no doubt now that he had been labeled paranoid and over-cautious.
Under that quiet pressure, he forced himself to calm down rather than defending himself. In his mind, he replayed everything that had happened since meeting Kimura Sakame. Could this have been Kimura Sakame's plan all along—to wear down his spirit, step by step? Otherwise, how could she have orchestrated everything so deliberately?
A smile crept across Shirakawa Natsu's face. He gave Kimura Sakame a slight bow, his voice carrying a tone of apology:"Forgive me, Ms. Kimura. I'm engaged to your childhood friend, and meeting you in the room next door today... I couldn't help thinking the worst. I've let my imagination run away with me. I hope I haven't caused you any trouble. I'll come by later to apologize properly."
He maintained his smile and studied her expression, thinking: You're the provocateur here; let's see who cracks first.
The two security guards tried to mask it, but for a moment their eyes betrayed a strange fascination. They lowered their heads, stealing glances at Kimura Sakame from the corners of their eyes.
Kimura Sakame's expression remained serene, her voice crisp and refreshing:"So it was a misunderstanding. I suppose I should pay more attention."
She turned to the guards and added,"I'm sorry for causing you trouble."
"It's our duty to serve the owner," the two replied, bowing respectfully.
Shirakawa Natsu could have imagined it, but the guards seemed almost worshipful when they looked at her.
Once they left, Kimura Sakame bowed slightly to Shirakawa Natsu."Mr. Natsu, I hope you'll continue to advise me in the future."
"Of course," he nodded. He had planned to wait for her to lower her guard before acting, but her composure was deeper than he expected—only confirming his suspicion that there was something unusual about her.
He opened the door. As it clicked shut behind him, he caught a glimpse of Kimura Sakame's face through the gap. Gentle as jade, as if nothing had been planned.
Momo Kimura returned to her room, switched on the light, and kept smiling. One by one, her coat, top, pants, shoes, and even underwear slipped from her body.
By the time she reached the study, she was completely naked, her translucent skin glowing softly in the lamp light.
The study's walls were lined with books, blocking the windows entirely; only faint light seeped through the gaps. Some volumes were yellowed and curling with age, while others were crisp and new. Neatly arranged, they gave the room the feel of a library caught between centuries.
Momo Kimura sat at the desk in the center, pulling down the lamp to illuminate the surface. Photographs were spread out across it, all featuring Shirakawa Natsu alone.
She picked up a notepad from the side, its pages filled with neat handwriting, and turned to the latest entry."On May 16, when he realized the danger…"
She recorded Shirakawa Natsu's behavior throughout the day, finishing the note with a deliberate full stop.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, her voice soft and teasing:"Mr. Natsu is truly fascinating~ What will your next experiment be?"
Her phone rang, and a young male voice answered on the other end:"Ms. Kimura, if you need housing, we're ready to assist."
"Thank you," she replied, smiling, and hung up.
Of course, it wasn't a coincidence that Shirakawa Natsu had rented the room next to hers. She had known he was looking for an apartment, bought the vacant unit, and used an intermediary to discreetly rent it to him.
Shirakawa Natsu returned to his room, mind still occupied with Kimura Sakame. He couldn't believe it was a coincidence—her plan was likely a form of subtle revenge for the childhood friend she had lost.
Could she really be trying to destroy me, piece by piece? he wondered, sinking into the sofa. His tension dissolved into fatigue, and before long, he drifted into sleep.
Some movement stirred him awake. On the sofa below, Mi Zhiku was seated, legs crossed, a book in hand.
"When did you get back?" Shirakawa Natsu asked, rubbing his forehead. His body ached from slouching.
Mi Zhiku didn't lift her head."Been a while."
"What's got you so engrossed?" he asked, noticing the dark, ominous cover. It looked like a horror novel.
"'Thrilling Black Hole'—a new kind of horror story," Mi Zhiku said casually, tossing it to him. "It's a shame this genre is so niche; something bigger would be better."
Curious, Shirakawa Natsu flipped through the pages. The story bore a rudimentary Cthulhu-like framework from his past life—mutations, tentacles, and strange distortions.
"I didn't expect you to enjoy this kind of tale," he remarked.
"Mystery, the unknown," Mi Zhiku replied, taking the book back. "It's refreshing."
"Not really mysterious," he said with a smile. "Imagine replacing the monsters with humans, and the protagonist with an ant's perspective. Suddenly, the story becomes less enigmatic."
"Huh?" she tilted her head, intrigued.
"If ants had consciousness," he explained, "one day they'd see their companions burned while searching for food. They'd form circles, create ritualistic patterns, and, from the ants' view, summon gods."
Mi Zhiku's lips twitched; she didn't want to share the book anymore.
"Just like stories about falling in love with monsters," Shirakawa Natsu continued, shrugging. "Monsters and humans perceive things differently. How could there be love?"
Mi Zhiku shot him a sideways glance, ignoring him, and returned to her book.
Shirakawa Natsu sat for a while, then picked up his drawing board. After leaving the hospital, he had slowed his manga output to weekly updates, pacing himself like other artists. Originally, he had wanted to express the world's pain through his comics. Over time, he had learned to make money while doing it.
Inspired by Miyuki today, he decided to use his free time for extra work. His brush danced across the paper, bringing a new creation to life.
Hearing the swish of the brush, Mi Zhiku came over, peering at the canvas. Her expression gradually shifted to confusion."What are you painting?"
"The myth of Kesulu," Shirakawa Natsu replied with a smile. "That book you just read gave me the inspiration."
On the page, a shape-shifting black-skinned girl appeared, morphing from a young child into a mature woman.
"This is the Hound of Tindalos. In the story, an investigator steals something forbidden and is hunted across time. This black-skinned beast girl appears at various points in his life, tormenting him. A terrifying being."
He turned the page. The story depicted the investigator's early life, then old age, relentlessly pursued by the creature.
"It's horrifying. Mess with such a creature, and you're trapped for life."
Mi Zhiku's face remained neutral.
"There are scarier ones," Shirakawa Natsu continued. Another page revealed a creature barely human, covered in sky-blue, with a jellyfish-like head, feathered wings, a thin waist, and long legs. Black silk and gold ribbons adorned her body.
"Humans captured by this creature lose all dignity," he said. "They're forced to survive, barely living, while she torments them."
Mi Zhiku was speechless."But why can she use a cellphone?" she asked.
"Monsters aren't capitalists," he said. "They can't do mundane things like fishing for water. To reproduce, they must account for the spiritual life of their prey. Terrifying, right?"
She closed the book, unwilling to continue."This kind of manga could never be published."
"Doesn't matter," he said confidently. "It will sell well in niche circles. Money is money."
"Go to sleep," Mi Zhiku said, glancing sideways before leaving.
Shirakawa Natsu drew late into the night, finally setting down the board when drowsiness took him.
After starting the new series, he exercised half an hour each morning at home. Staying inside kept him safe from prying eyes.
The Kesulu myth became an instant hit online. Different worlds, same twisted fascination. Shirakawa Natsu made a small fortune. Unaware, the popularity of his "master craftsman's vest" soared, and his works were widely over-interpreted.
Finally, he received an acceptance letter from Dongda University.
He paused, staring at the literature major section, lost in thought.
Momo Kimura… what the hell is this woman trying to do?