Klein knocked on Nairn's door with mixed emotions.
It was Nairn himself who opened the door. He wore comfortable loungewear and had a lazy smile, lacking the mystery he showed at the Tarot Club.
"You're here? Come in and sit." He stepped aside, hosting him like an ordinary friend.
Klein entered and found the living room simple yet cozy. The fireplace crackled, dispelling Tingen's night chill.
"What would you like to drink? Black tea or coffee?" Nairn pointed toward the kitchen.
"Water is fine." Klein sat on the sofa somewhat stiffly.
He expected a serious talk about world secrets or profound Beyonder knowledge.
Instead, Nairn brought two glasses of water, sat opposite him, and asked a question that stunned Klein.
"By the way, before you transmigrated, how far did you get in the 'One Punch Man' manga?"
"Huh?"
Klein's brain stalled for half a second.
One... Punch... Man?
The term was like a long-buried key, opening his memory gates. Vivid, distant images of Zhou Mingrui and Earth flooded back.
How long had it been since he heard those words?
Since transmigrating, he struggled to survive, walking cautiously in the Beyonder world. He thought he was forgetting his past, that peaceful world.
But Nairn's casual remark broke his defenses.
"I—" Klein's throat felt dry. He cleared it and tried to sound normal. "I saw... until the end of the Garou Arc."
"Oh, it gets exciting after that." Nairn, finding a kindred spirit, began ranting enthusiastically. "In the redraw, Sensei couldn't kill anyone with one punch anymore. They even introduced Cosmic Garou, who killed a bunch of heroes, only to save them with time reversal. It was ridiculous!"
He sipped water and continued, "And the anime was even more infuriating. Season one was great, high budget. But Season three? It looked like a slideshow. The 'Garou sliding' meme became a laughingstock. The director was even hounded off the internet."
"And the artist, Murata, is something else. He'd draw perfectly fine chapters then redraw them daily, changing content so much even loyal fans got confused. Isn't it annoying?"
Klein listened to Nairn's internet-slang-filled rant, unsure how to react.
He felt like he'd traveled back to his college dorm, chatting with roommates all night about anime and games.
It felt surreal and wonderful.
He couldn't help asking a question he'd always wondered about.
"Then... what about that game 'Final Fantasy'? How far did it get?"
"Not bad. They started releasing remakes of old versions recently, full of nostalgia," Nairn answered naturally.
"The plot is a bit cryptic. But seeing high-def Tifa and Aerith, what more could you ask for?"
"What more could you ask for..." Klein murmured, a nostalgic smile appearing.
"Yeah, and—"
They talked a lot after that.
From anime to games, web novels to inside jokes only they understood.
They discussed how popular 'Lord of ■' would be if published, whether authors of bad endings deserved razor blades in the mail, silly netizen comments, and the release of 'Battlefield 6'...
Klein felt his long-tensed nerves finally relax.
He was no longer Klein Moretti, the Nighthawk carrying heavy secrets in the Darkness.
He was back to being Zhou Mingrui, an ordinary youth excited by a show or a game.
Night deepened. The fire cast long shadows of the two.
Klein lost track of time and the specifics of their talk.
He just knew he had said so much.
He talked about his favorite novel and the protagonist's choice that still haunted him;
He talked about his most addictive game and the all-nighters he pulled for a rare item;
He talked about his favorite movie and the lines he knew by heart.
Since arriving in this world, he had buried these things deep, never daring to mention them.
Because no one would understand.
He couldn't explain 'Isekai' to Melissa and Benson, or share the thrill of beating a 'Souls-like' boss with his Nighthawk colleagues.
He was like a person on a desert island, surrounded by a vast sea, seeing ships and hearing voices but unable to truly communicate.
This loneliness was like a slow poison, eroding his heart.
Especially after Old Neil's confession and seeing the cruelty of the slums, the feeling of being out of place almost crushed him.
He protected the people of this world but didn't fully belong to it.
He missed his unreachable home while struggling in this alien era.
But now, everything was different.
The person across from him, Nairn, understood.
He knew the difference between 'Tsundere' and 'Hara-guro,' the meaning of 'High energy ahead' and'Successful drop,' and could even finish the line 'Coach, I want to play basketball.'
Nairn caught every meme and kept up with every topic Klein raised.
It felt like hearing one's native tongue after wandering in a foreign land for too long.
He really wasn't alone.
In this cold, eerie, mad world, he had a fellow kind, a fellow countryman from the same place.
A massive emotional flood breached the dam of his logic and vigilance.
Klein felt his eyes moisten uncontrollably.
He quickly looked down, pretending to sip the cold tea, not wanting the other to see his loss of composure.
This feeling of resonance, of not being alone—
It was good.
If there were a Galgame affection prompt, a golden line would have popped up before Nairn:
[Congratulations! Klein Moretti's affection has increased significantly! He has completely opened his heart to you!]
However, Nairn's goal tonight wasn't to unlock a special CG of a weeping Klein.
He didn't want a tool who might exit due to a mental breakdown, but a true 'protagonist' who could stand beside him and stir the winds of this era.
"Hey, kid."
Nairn spoke, breaking the warm atmosphere.
His voice returned to its usual playful tone, pulling Klein out of his overflowing emotions.
Klein snapped back and looked up.
"You still have things to finish," Nairn said lazily, leaning back.
"What things?" Klein was confused.
"Don't forget, you're one of mine now," Nairn said matter-of-factly. "I plan to let the members of our 'The Days Gone By United Group' all 'make a fortune' together."
"Make a fortune together?" Klein repeated the familiar yet strange phrase, not reacting for a moment.
"Exactly." Nairn snapped his fingers. "I can't always be the one charging ahead; you guys need to contribute. How about this: draw a rough sketch of your bicycle idea as your contribution to our group."
"And then?"
"Then, I'll refine your plan into a professional proposal for Miss Audrey Hall. She has a company, right? It's perfect for starting this project. When it makes money, you'll get your share of the dividends."
Nairn spoke casually, as if discussing a trivial matter.
But Klein was stunned again.
He immediately understood Nairn's intention.
Nairn wasn't asking for his idea; Nairn could have made the bicycle plan himself.
Nairn was sending him money in the most considerate way possible, without hurting his pride.
He didn't say 'I'll give you money,' but 'This is your rightful dividend.'
He didn't say 'I'll help you realize your idea,' but 'This is your contribution to the group.'
He arranged everything clearly, giving Klein practical benefits while maintaining his dignity as a man and a transmigrator.
This feeling of being cared for and looked after—
A warm current rose in Klein's heart.
Looking at the man with the cynical smile, all his previous vigilance, suspicion, and fear vanished.
"Cough, don't look at me like that." Nairn felt awkward and feigned a cough. "Isn't it natural for a boss like me to look after his subordinates?"
"I'm really not an honest boss, subconsciously gaslighting my employees again," Nairn grumbled to himself.
But his face wore a 'I'm just that loyal' look.
"Thank you," Klein finally managed.
But these two words held all the gratitude he couldn't express.
"Just saying thanks is useless." Nairn waved his hand. "Show some action. Give me the sketch tomorrow."
"Okay," Klein nodded solemnly.
He felt like he had found a new 'family' in this world.
Seeing Klein moved enough to almost pledge his life—
Well, looking like he was about to swear brotherhood on the spot.
Nairn knew the timing was right.
The emotional anchor was set; next was the values.
He leaned back comfortably and said casually, "A bicycle company isn't enough. I've been thinking that the organizational structure of 'The Days Gone By United Group' needs refining."
"Organizational structure?" Klein's attention was instantly caught.
He sat up straight, his expression turning serious.
He knew this was the main event.
"Yes." Nairn held up three fingers. "My initial idea is to divide it into three departments."
"'Rebirth', 'Remaining Embers', and 'The Past'."
"Rebirth? Remaining Embers? The Past?" Klein repeated the mysterious names, eyes full of inquiry.
Nairn chuckled inwardly at his reaction.
Of course, he wouldn't show all his cards to Klein.
Especially the true meaning of 'The Past'.
He cleared his throat and began his 'MLM-style' explanation.
"First, 'Rebirth'."
Nairn raised his first finger.
"'Rebirth', as the name implies, represents inheritance and transformation; it's our executive department. Members don't need complex thoughts or to understand our ultimate goal. They just need to be capable, get things done, and execute our plans without compromise."
"Like Triss," Nairn added. "She's a member of 'Rebirth'. What she does is allow souls who can't find release in the Darkness of the old era to attain 'rebirth'. What we want is for this dark, bloodthirsty, man-eating era to attain 'rebirth'."
Klein's heart leaped.
Let an era attain 'rebirth'?
Such audacity!
But he didn't interrupt, just listened quietly.
"Then, 'Remaining Embers'."
Nairn raised a second finger, his expression more serious.
"'Remaining Embers' refers to the unextinguished sparks left after the old era burns out. It represents an ideal, a conviction."
"Members must be idealists. They must believe the world can be better. They must believe humans should live like humans, not like lambs to the slaughter or cogs in a machine."
Nairn's gaze fell on Klein.
"Wanting people to exist like humans."
Klein thought of Old Neil's last lesson and the poor in the slums struggling in despair.
A surge of heat welled in his chest.
"Then... what about 'The Past'?" Klein couldn't help asking.
"'The Past'?" Nairn smiled mysteriously. "'The Past' is our core and foundation. Only members who contribute enough and whose ideals are recognized by everyone are eligible to touch the secrets of 'The Past'."
He deliberately left it vague, not explaining that 'The Past' pointed to Earth, to the past called 'Modern Civilization.'
He knew it wasn't time to tell Klein the truth.
One bite at a time, one step at a time.
Placing the heavy mission of a whole planet's civilization on a youth who just found a life goal would crush him.
Sure enough, Klein was curious but didn't press.
He was simply shocked by the grand blueprint Nairn painted.
'Rebirth' for execution, 'Remaining Embers' for ideals, 'The Past' for the core.
Action, principles, goals, and promotion paths.
This wasn't just a 'mutual aid group.'
This was a highly organized, goal-oriented revolutionary organization ready to subvert the old era!
Klein's breathing quickened.
He remembered Nairn saying 'The protagonist has arrived' at the Tarot Club.
Was he not joking?
He wasn't referring to himself.
He meant a brand-new era about to be opened by The Days Gone By United Group!
At this moment, all of Klein's previous confusion and loneliness were replaced by an unprecedented sense of mission and excitement.
Looking at the man leisurely drinking tea, Klein felt for the first time that the 'Fun-seeker' he perceived might just be his outermost mask.
Beneath that mask lay a soul so vast and profound.
He was no longer Zhou Mingrui thinking only of survival and home.
He saw a path.
A path that might be harder and more dangerous, but full of meaning and value.
To change this world.
To make it so tragedies like the slums no longer happened.
To let his family—Melissa, Benson—live with dignity in a fairer, brighter world.
This thought, like a seed, took root and sprouted wildly in his heart.
"I'm in," Klein said again, his tone incredibly firm this time.
No matter what lay ahead, he was willing to follow this man's lead to see what kind of new world he wanted to create.
"Very good," Nairn nodded with satisfaction.
"Welcome aboard, Comrade Zhou Mingrui," he added silently.
Done.