The day passed quickly.
By dusk, rain had begun to fall, a thin, pattering drizzle that slicked the moss climbing the clock tower. Nanami Kira had gone up to look around earlier. Nothing remarkable.
The tower's peak was sharp, classic Gothic, matching the Western-style mansion beside it. No one had maintained the place in a long time. The staircase railings had gone to rust, draped in cobwebs and dust.
Standing in the fine rain, the whole structure looked as though it might topple at any moment.
He stood in the wind and rain, sheltered in a dark corner, and drew a black box from the lining of his coat.
"So? What's actually on the third floor?"
"I want a reward!"
A girl with white hair and crimson eyes materialized out of the downpour, barefoot, stepping onto the dust-covered floorboards. She spread her arms wide toward Nanami Kira.
"I want a handshake!"
Nanami Kira ignored Miss Hand's request. His tone was flat.
"I refuse."
"I want a handshake!"
"I refuse."
"Liar! That's not what you said before we came here!"
Hoshino Ei's pupils grew steadily more dangerous.
"Oh, I see. It's because of that slutty maid, isn't it? Walking around dressed like that every day—it's definitely her, isn't it, it's her, it's her. Flirting right in front of me all day long. Kira-kun must be dreaming about squeezing her fair, tender little hands, I bet. Using those little fingers of hers for all sorts of naughty things, and right in front of me too..."
Her cheeks flushed suddenly, a suspicious tide of red creeping up her face. Her expression stayed cool and detached, but the tips of her ears had gone scarlet, and her gaze drifted into something distant, lost in whatever scene she was imagining.
"Fingers... gently teasing, up and down... damn it, such expert technique, and right in front of me... I'm so jealous."
"I'm going to fight her to the death!"
Nanami Kira pressed a hand to his forehead and gave Hoshino Ei's outstretched little hand a perfunctory pat. His tone remained level.
"So you've been here for two days now. Did you find anything?"
He no longer believed for a second that Hoshino Ei was merely a two-month-old infant.
As it turned out, Hoshino Ei had been trailing Nanami Kira the entire time. Using Concealment, she had perfectly suppressed her Cursed Energy signature. Her true body stayed hidden inside the box in Kira's coat lining while her Shikigami slipped silently through the mansion, gathering intelligence in the shadows.
Nanami Kira operated in the open, drawing attention. Hoshino Ei worked from the dark.
Because of their Binding Vow, Hoshino Ei could never betray Nanami Kira—which made this particular tool-hand rather useful.
Except she was genuinely insufferable sometimes. Fortunately, his composure had been holding steady.
His nails hadn't grown much, either.
"Didn't find anything!"
She raised both hands, looking thoroughly pleased with herself, and announced it like she'd won something.
Take back everything I just thought. This thing is a useless hand.
"The innermost part of the third floor has a really powerful Curtain. I couldn't get through. The outer area's nothing special, though. A bunch of antiques, and loads and loads of Cursed Tools."
Hoshino Ei leaned against the railing. A breeze caught the hem of her skirt, exposing a sliver of pale ankle.
"This is what you wanted. Surprised?"
She rummaged through her pockets and produced page after page of scattered yellow paper. Her wine-red eyes carried a hint of amusement as she spoke softly:
"I heard everything perfectly clearly, you know. The real reason you came here in the first place was for these dozen or so pages of manuscript, wasn't it? Here. I searched for ages."
Nanami Kira regarded her calmly.
This creature's standing in his estimation kept doing sit-ups—up and down, up and down, never settling.
He took the yellow pages. One glance at the first line was all he needed.
"Last night I chanced upon a youth, bright of eye and white of tooth. In a year's time, I'll marry the child. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"Night before last, I chanced upon a youth. Last night, I inspected more carefully. Male."
The familiar style. These had to be the missing pages from the Brothel Review Guide.
Nanami Kira leafed through with extreme care, his movements gentle, terrified of crumbling the brittle yellow paper. Page after page, until at last he found the lead he'd been looking for:
"A foreign relic, skilled at seizing souls—first recorded in the ancient nation of Rome..."
Rome?
Rome... that would be modern-day Italy. Nanami Kira pinched the manuscript between his fingers, lost in thought.
The day was nearly over.
Soon came the third day at Amber Mansion.
September 24th. Overcast.
The guests arrived in a steady trickle—one luxury car after another pulling up at the mansion's entrance, one confident gentleman or lady after another stepping out.
Six people in total.
Nanami Kira stood pressed against the window frame, watching them in silence. Those gentlemen and ladies about to cross the threshold had no idea what lay ahead.
They were all smiles, chatting amiably.
Anyone who'd managed to obtain an invitation was, as a rule, either highborn aristocracy or a sorcerer of considerable standing in society.
The more ancient the family, the less simple its heirs tended to be.
And the new Master of Amber Mansion would be chosen from among them.
"I'm terribly sorry—the Master had business to attend to and has gone out. He should return by the afternoon. Please make yourselves comfortable."
Jasmine bowed with genuine contrition, her slender hands folded neatly against her waist.
"I've prepared some fine dishes for our guests. I do hope you'll find them acceptable."
On the mahogany table: steaks, still steaming. Drizzled with sauce, garnished with passionfruit, herbs scattered across the surface—tender, faintly pink with traces of blood.
By the standards of formal aristocratic dining, this hardly qualified as a proper reception meal. But the aroma was irresistible, and the guests had traveled a long way, so they tucked in with evident relish.
"Excuse me, sir—why aren't you eating?"
A man in a tailcoat addressed him from the neighboring seat. His manners were polished, but his expression betrayed an unmistakable air of pride.
Nanami Kira could sense his Cursed Energy: Grade 1.
A Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer already counted among the upper ranks of the jujutsu world. Worth being proud of, certainly.
Tuxedo Man it is, then.
"I'm not hungry."
Nanami Kira eyed the steaming steak on Tuxedo Man's plate and shook his head.
He would sooner eat his own secret-recipe cat kibble than touch that thing.
Too grotesque. For all he knew, that could be meat from god-knows-what part of a person.
"And your name?"
"You can call me Kento Gojo."
Nanami Kira recalled his cover identity. Unremarkable. Mediocre. A garden-variety Grade 2 sorcerer, thirty-three years old, from the Gojo clan—a senior relative of Gojo Satoru.
Yes. His generational rank absolutely had to be above Gojo's.
"Now then, honored guests."
Jasmine clapped her hands lightly, tilting her head.
"Please rest for a while. The auction begins tomorrow."
"And please, do not wander about at night."