"So… what should we do?"
For the first time, Yukinoshita Haruno felt uncertain about the direction ahead.
Yes.
Among all parties, the Yukinoshita family might have been the first to gain a foothold. Haruno had quietly befriended the Shitamachi Goddess long before the storm broke.
Such a humble connection was, without doubt, enviable.
But how much weight did that friendship truly carry?
Haruno understood this better than anyone.
The Yukinoshita family could only be considered perceptive—nothing more.
At present, four forces stood together in silent agreement:
The Metropolitan Police Department,the religious establishment,the landlord class,and the barely qualified Yukinoshita family.
Together, they chose to seal the truth.
How long could the lid remain closed?
At the very least, it had to remain shut until their relationship with the Shitamachi Goddess was stable—until she was, in some sense, bound.
Yet Yukinoshita Yukino frowned, her expression carrying unmistakable resistance.
Climbing upward by clinging to the powerful—
That was not the "real thing" she sought.
Moreover, the Shitamachi Goddess was unlikely to be the only extraordinary individual in the world.
Where there was one, there would be more.
Like seeing a single cockroach in your house—there was always a nest hidden somewhere behind it.
Perhaps the analogy was crude, but the logic was sound.
Hearing this, Yukinoshita's mother felt something inside her finally give way.
She had failed, after all, to mold Yukino into a useful piece.
The disappointment on her face was no longer concealed. With a wave of her hand, she signaled Haruno—whose heart skipped slightly—to explain things properly.
"Yukino, you…"
She sighed, deeply.
Haruno, too, felt troubled by her sister's stubborn innocence.
"You're thinking too simply…"
Was the Shitamachi Goddess important?
No.
What mattered was the meaning behind her existence.
What mattered was the god standing behind her.
God.
That word alone carried unbearable weight.
So heavy that all previous rules ceased to apply.
So heavy that merely revealing it could ignite a storm across the entire world.
In fact, the four major forces were deliberately avoiding the word "god."
Even while attempting to befriend the Shitamachi Goddess, they kept the lid sealed tight.
Perhaps they were burying their heads in the sand.
But no one dared to establish an open, formal relationship.
Even when some had already extracted a name from her prayers—
The Fallen Lord.
Still, no one dared to carve that name into a statue and worship it openly.
False gods demanded rituals.
But real gods?
Who could be certain of their temperament?
Thus, the existence of a god stretched the four forces to their limits, leaving them unwilling to act rashly.
All they could do was circle around the Shitamachi Goddess herself.
And her temperament was… strange.
She rejected benefits offered to her own son.
The words "lacking virtue and disrespecting the gods" alone nearly frightened the powerful half to death—let alone the son in question.
Yet perceptive individuals sensed something else.
Perhaps her sect required purity of heart and minimal desire.
It wasn't impossible.
Gradually, many elites who once indulged in excess began eating plain meals.
Their behavior subtly aligned with that of the Shitamachi Goddess.
Some discovered that despite being in her seventies or eighties, she remained vigorous—capable of knocking down an adult man with a single punch.
The implications were obvious.
Strengthening the body.
Perhaps even… prolonging life.
"We shouldn't embarrass ourselves by fawning."
Instead, they chose patience.
Like brewing fine wine—letting the relationship mature naturally.
This was how the powerful always operated.
Money and gifts?
The lowest form of friendship.
Far better to let the Shitamachi Goddess notice them on her own.
As for ignoring her? Or seeking another extraordinary individual?
Possible.
But too late.
This was the root of Haruno's unease.
The emergence of the extraordinary—and of gods—meant the world was already changing.
This wasn't merely a coming storm.
It was an era shift.
Perhaps the modern order could still endure under limited extraordinary power.
But not with the Shitamachi Goddess.
And certainly not with the god behind her.
From now on, order would be determined by whoever possessed the harder fist.
Fail to adapt—and the tide of the era would wash you away completely.
This was no simple matter of "climbing."
You could be noble.
You could be righteous.
But when the era turned, a single wave could erase the Yukinoshita family entirely.
This was the brutal truth Haruno saw.
"Yukino, you can't be willful…"
In the past, she could protect her sister.
Now?
She no longer had the strength to do so.
The current pressure alone was exhausting her.
Meanwhile, their mother remained firmly in control—ensuring the family did not stray.
If possible, she would rather train Yukino to manage internal affairs.
Haruno would handle the outside world.
Stability over ambition.
Unfortunately…
"Haruno…"
Their mother spoke calmly, not even glancing at Yukino's stubborn, unrepentant expression.
She knew her daughter well.
Yukino would only stop once she hit a wall.
Letting go might be the better choice.
"You're the same as ever."
Haruno, at least, was worry-free.
Her social finesse ensured she wouldn't make fatal mistakes—even if she achieved nothing remarkable.
As long as she remained steady, relationships would deepen naturally.
"…Yes."
Haruno worried for Yukino's future.
If Yukino continued chasing her "real thing"—the Service Club ideals—life ahead would not be easy.
"You know what you need to do.
Helping Granny Takeda was good.
But don't actively seek her inheritance.
When the time comes, she will decide on her own."
Don't chase wealth.
Haruno understood the policy immediately.
Before leaving, she gave Yukino a pointed look.
Yukino ignored it.
Their paths had diverged.
They were no longer the same kind of people.
As Haruno stepped away, her heart felt heavy.
In an era already in motion, she no longer had the confidence to protect her sister—
And she could only hope Yukino wouldn't do something irreversible.
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