"That does sound bad," Amari said softly, her brows furrowed as she leaned an elbow on the table. "Were you like this back on Earth as well?"
Shaking my head, I answered honestly. "No. This state of mind is something new to me. Back then, I didn't feel… this way."
Amari tilted her head, thoughtful, but before she could continue, Mom suddenly straightened. Her eyes sharpened, her mouth pressing into a thin line.
"Ooh, wait. Before we go on, I still have to ask this one thing," she said, her tone far more serious than before. She turned her gaze fully on me, the weight of it enough to make my back tense. "When I got here, you all said that you were dominant in bed. Is that true?"
I froze, blinking. Of all things to bring up now…
"Umm, can we not?" I muttered, turning my head aside. I wasn't going to answer that. But Amari—traitor that she was—nodded eagerly.
Mom's lips twitched. "I can't believe it. You—Shiro. A mass murderer. And yet you're the bottom in bed." She didn't laugh, didn't tease with her usual sharp grin. She simply shook her head slowly, as if she were disappointed in the entire universe.
I glared at her. "Mass murderer?"
The words slipped out of both Granny and Amari at the same time: "Mass murderer?" Granny's tone was confused—she didn't quite understand the phrase—but Amari's was sharp, alarm bells ringing in her voice.
"Mother, what do you mean that Shiro is a mass murderer?" Amari asked, her eyes darting between us, demanding an explanation.
Mom winced. "Oh no, please disregard what I just said." She rubbed her forehead, looking genuinely regretful—or at least pretending to be.
"That's not happening." Amari crossed her arms and turned to me, her voice steel. "Shiro, what did she mean by that?"
I sighed heavily, pressing my fingers to my temple. "It's too late now. And knowing how persistent you were back on Earth, Amari, I don't think you'll let this go."
Mom bit her lip. "I'm sorry."
I shot her a flat look. "No, you're not. You did that on purpose." Reaching out, I smacked her over the head, earning a sharp yelp.
"Ow! Can you blame me?" she said defensively, rubbing the sore spot. You can trust the people at this table with your life, I know for a fact. I was just… pushing you to say it out loud."
I exhaled, long and frustrated. "Sigh… not really. I was planning to tell Dean first and then Amari once our relationship had improved. With her now knowing the truth about Yua and me, it makes more sense. Granny, though—" I pointed across the table at the older woman. "You surprised me."
"That's true," Amari admitted grudgingly, folding her arms. "I don't hate you anymore. But I'm still mad that you took her first." Her lips jutted into a pout.
"Huh? I didn't take her first." I shot back instantly. "When we did it, she wasn't a virgin."
Amari blinked, utterly lost. "What?"
"Yeah," I said casually. "Her first time was with one of her friends in high school."
Amari leaned in. "Girl or boy?"
"Girl," I answered without hesitation.
She huffed. "Then I'm mad that you were her first male." She turned her face away again, cheeks puffed like an angry squirrel.
I shook my head. "I don't think that's important. What is important is what you're going to do about her. Because Amari—if you marry Yua… she might break you." My tone turned dead serious. "Especially now that she's in a man's body."
At that moment, I believed it was merely a clever tactic to deflect attention away from myself. Oh, if only I had known how much I'd come to regret that later.
"Aah, shit," Amari muttered.
"Aah, shit," Mom echoed at the same time.
The room went silent. Everyone seemed to sink into their own thoughts. The quiet was heavy, suffocating, until the door creaked open again and Dean stepped in.
He stopped in his tracks, staring at the gloomy table. "Why is it so quiet in here?" he asked suspiciously, striding in and sitting down beside Amari. His eyes swept across the room, landing on me last. His gaze narrowed. "Dean, we have a major problem!" Mom suddenly blurted out the news, her voice tinged with panic.
Dean stiffened. "What happened? Did Kitsuna destroy something again?" His eyes flicked to me. Then, as if finally noticing my slightly altered appearance, he added, "Hmm. You're one scary child. Ooh, wait. Is this about how she looks?"
"What? I am not that—" I started but then hesitated. My mind flicked back to the broken plate, the countless times I'd wrecked things in the mansion these last three years. My shoulders slumped. "...You might be right. I am reckless."
Dean raised an eyebrow, but Mom cut him off. "That's not relevant right now. It's about Amari's fiancé."
Dean opened his mouth, but I interjected. "Wait. Before we continue, we need Rebecca and Lily here. We're having a family meeting." My palm smacked against the table. The sound echoed.
Everyone blinked at me in confusion. Everyone except Mom. She understood immediately.
"Trust me," I added. "They'll be a great help."
Soon enough, Rebecca and Lily joined us, and the rest of the staff was dismissed. The doors shut, locking us in with nothing but tension.
"Okay, let's start this meeting," Mom said gravely.
"Before that, let me do this." I raised a hand and let mana surge outward. Frost crawled across the walls, the air growing sharp and biting. My ice magic enveloped the entire room in seconds, creating a soundproof barrier. "Now we're ready."
Mom gave me a brief nod before she began to explain everything. Her words were steady, measured, but weighty. And to drive the point home, she used her illusion magic to show my past-life appearance.
I expected gasps, questions, maybe shock. Instead, their reactions were… flat. They simply nodded, saying it made sense. The casualness of it cut deeper than I'd expected.
It stung more than I cared to admit. Was my past self really so obvious that none of them were surprised?
That changed when the topic shifted to Yua.
Rebecca and Lily exchanged knowing glances and declared it made sense—because, apparently, I was "clearly submissive."
I tried to argue. I really did. But every protest I raised only dug me deeper. By the end, I slumped in defeat with my cheeks burning, while the others looked far too smug.
Dean, meanwhile, looked disappointed. Until Mom casually exposed one of his secrets as well. He went quiet instantly, sulking in a corner.
"That is a problem," Rebecca said once the explanations concluded. She tapped her chin, thinking deeply. "But it's easy to fix. Let me train Amari."
"NO!?" Mom and I barked in unison, slamming our hands on the table.
Rebecca clicked her tongue. "Tsk. Fine."
Dean, who had been quiet until then, leaned forward. "Okay, I got this. Let's start with you," he said, looking squarely at me. "With your looks, you'll most likely end up with someone strong. I don't have much advice to offer on that topic. but at least get me a good daughter-in-law." He concluded his statement with a solemn nod, as if he were delivering divine judgment.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'll… try," I muttered.
"Yeah, I was surprised you were somebody at first," Lily chimed in with a teasing grin. "But thinking about it, it makes sense. Your habits never changed. The funniest part? No matter the world, no matter the body, you always look scary. Even the eye thing came back to you." Her smile softened. "But how did you get that scar, anyway?"
"I'll tell you after this problem is solved," I promised. She nodded and leaned back, satisfied for now.
Dean cleared his throat, his voice shifting to something heavier. "Now that we have addressed that issue, let's move on to the bigger problem. Amari. How are we going to make sure her fiancé doesn't break her?"
The debate that followed was long and loud. Voices clashed, and ideas were tossed around, countered, and discarded. Amari's voice tried to cut in—pleading, protesting—but no one paid her any mind. Hours bled together until finally a consensus formed.
"So we've decided," Dean said, his arms crossed. "We'll bump up her training. If she lacks motivation, she'll watch a session with Rebecca and Lily." His tone suggested there was no room for negotiation.
"Un," everyone agreed. Everyone except Amari, who had her face buried in the table, groaning in despair.
Dean frowned, still puzzled. "How did we even get to this? And what's so special about their sessions?" His gaze shifted to Mom and me, but we both suddenly found the ice on the walls very fascinating.
"Hehe, you can join tonight if you like," Rebecca said with a sly smirk.
Dean paled instantly. "Gulp… on second thought, never mind."
"I began to explain the second point, but Granny lifted her hand." Her calm, steady voice broke through the chaos. "Can we take an hour's break first?"
"I suppose we could," I said, nodding. I dispelled the ice walls with a thought—only to reveal the main entrance doors had been reduced to splinters.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered, staring at the wreckage.
"Attack!" shouts rang from the hall outside. I shot to my feet, summoning a scythe in my hand.
Ten men burst into the room, their weapons drawn, eyes sharp. At first, everyone froze, unsure of what was happening. Then Daren's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"The one with the red hair—get her!?" He pointed straight at me.
The soldiers surged forward, but before they could move another step, Dean's voice rang out.
"What the hell is going on!?" His tone wasn't loud, but it boomed with raw authority. The air grew heavy, and my body locked in place for a split second, instinctively obeying his command.
I clenched my jaw, forcing my mana to surge. Muscles strained, veins bulged, but I broke through his compulsion. My body snapped free, and with a sharp motion, I swung the scythe onto my shoulder.
Dean smirked. "Haha, Stacy trained you well." He didn't seem surprised in the slightest that I'd broken free.
I just shrugged, my gaze already locked on Daren.
"So, Daren," Dean asked coldly, "why do you want to kill my daughter?"
"She attacked me!" Daren shouted. "She even used a spell on Rachel, making her believe this monster is an ally!" He gestured to the bruises on his body. They looked convincing—ugly, purple splotches across his arms and neck.
Mom and Dean both turned to me, their expressions demanding an explanation.
I shrugged again, nonchalant. "What? He attacked me first. I just defended myself."
"Was it really necessary to hurt him that badly?" Mom asked, one brow raised.
"I may have had a… jump in strength recently." I scratched my cheek sheepishly. "So yeah, I used all my power without realizing it. My speed caught him off guard, as he didn't anticipate my strength.
Dean's eyes narrowed. "A jump in strength? You're at the mid-private level, right? Do you know what your stats are at the moment?"
"Is the pledge still active?" Mom asked sharply.
"Yes and no," I said. "My strength is 795. My agility is 1140. Oh, and I'm level 27."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then came the collective choking of air. Half the Black Ops soldiers crumpled, fainting outright at the revelation.
Even Mom's eyes went wide with shock.