Artificially modified Honkai beasts?
"Were they cat-shaped?" Otto raised a brow, visibly intrigued.
Durandal's future pet, Stan, was precisely an artificially modified feline-type Honkai beast.
"Cats?!"
For a split second, little Goose looked even more excited than he did—then her expression dimmed. "No, Bishop."
"Was there anyone near them?"
"…Yes."
Durandal nodded.
"During the pursuit, I caught sight of a woman in black. But just as I tried to follow her, she escaped."
After thinking for a moment, she added, "She was carrying a purple sniper rifle. It… posed a certain level of threat to me."
"Oh. A sniper—sniper rifle?" Otto froze slightly.
"Yes. It emitted a violet glow."
"…Bianka·Durandal·Atagina." His tone turned solemn as he looked at her seriously.
"What is it, Bishop?"
Otto regarded her like a parent staring at a disaster-prone child. "Every time you survive, it's like you picked your life back up at the gates of hell."
"Why would you say that???"
"Should I announce to the world that you're my final student?" Otto asked earnestly instead of answering. "That way, when you charge recklessly into danger, other organizations might think twice."
Durandal: ???
Otto looked up at the moon and exhaled slowly.
For no clear reason, he felt a strange parental anxiety.
Goose… if it's who I think it is, you're lucky you didn't catch up.
…
Back home, Otto and Cecilia finally let go of each other's hands.
Cecilia seemed lost in thought. After a long pause, she asked softly, "The sniper… what about it?"
"The sniper rifle?" Otto lay back on the sofa, momentarily confused.
"Yes—the one just mentioned," she gestured slightly, mimicking his tone. "You even corrected Durandal."
Oh. That.
Miss Cecilia, have you considered the possibility that I simply repeated myself?
This Cecilia is adorably airheaded.jpg
"For me," Otto replied lazily with his eyes closed, "I see only the interests involved."
"And… Miss Durandal?"
"That depends on fate," he answered. "As long as she doesn't get shot, everything is negotiable. I'll keep an eye on her."
"…Thank you." Otto heard Cecilia let out a faint sigh of relief.
"I watched her grow up. We're quite close," he began playing the emotional card without missing a beat. "For example, she can bypass my secretary and report directly to me. She's the best student in my eyes. No need to thank me."
"Okay." Cecilia smiled gently.
"Of course, I won't be sending her there for now."
He gauged her thoughts and continued.
"She'll enter closed training soon. In three days, she can submit her application for the S-rank Valkyrie assessment. Around the start of the new year, she'll likely become an S-rank Valkyrie."
"S-rank Valkyrie…" Cecilia seemed to grasp a fragment of memory—a golden-haired man placing a medal upon a Valkyrie. "That must be… exhausting?"
…
She hasn't even reunited yet and she's already worrying like a mother.
Otto sighed inwardly at the resonance between mother and daughter.
"Yes. It's tiring. If I were her father, I'd want to take on all her burdens so she could enjoy a few carefree days with friends."
"And… her father?"
"Chasing freedom," Otto said lightly, slipping the needle in. "He took one of my experimental subjects, claiming it would grant her freedom and protection. As a result, he was separated from his daughter. Eventually, unable to control himself, he abandoned that experimental subject in the wilderness and joined another organization."
"That… experimental subject… sounds rather pitiful."
"…?"
What kind of sixth sense lets her bypass two heavily guided narratives and accurately sympathize with her own child?!
Otto opened his eyes, stunned.
Are women's instincts always this terrifying?
Cecilia shifted uneasily under his stare. "Brother, what are we doing next?"
"Considering the walk back from the office, we've had enough exercise," Otto rose. "We sleep."
"Sleep?"
Cecilia didn't fully understand, but she washed up, changed into the pajamas Amber had prepared earlier, and waited.
Otto led her to the master bedroom. "Make do tonight. Later we'll decide whether you move somewhere new or return to your old residence."
Not a hardship, her heart answered quietly.
She lay on the bed, watching him at the doorway. For a moment, she wanted to ask him to stay.
The impulse was extinguished by vague, tightening fragments of memory—urging her not to trouble the man before her.
He is here.
He will remain here.
So there is no need to fear loneliness.
Sleep came quickly.
"Good night…" she murmured before collapsing into slumber.
Thirteen years of hibernation was not the same as true sleep. Especially not a near-brain-death stasis that only reversed when Otto issued the command to the Book of the Source.
Otto watched her drift off without even pulling up the blanket.
He smiled faintly.
To sleep so peacefully… she truly trusts him.
After tucking her in, he returned to the sofa, closing his eyes while reviewing his actions.
He had transmigrated into Otto Apocalypse, deceived the Void Archives, obtained the Book of the Source, rescued Cecilia Schariac, accompanied an amnesiac Saint through bathing, wandering, dining, flirted in front of Durandal—
Arranged matters concerning Theresa and Siegfried.
Initiated the plan against World Serpent.
Even cast glances toward Anti-Entropy.
He did not know whether he compared favorably to the original Otto.
But he would not do worse.
"I will weave a lie vast enough to make even gods dance," he murmured.
In the haze of sleep, he thought he heard a distant girl screaming angrily at him.
…
"Grandpa!!!"
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