The mansion had taken on a new kind of life over the past few days. Training echoed through the halls. Laughter spilled from room to room. Sparring sessions erupted and faded. Quiet study settled in pockets of the house. There were stolen moments of affection, small emotional breakthroughs, gentle conversations in corners.
But through all of it, the girls watched Zumi adjust to a new body.
A divine body.
A form that moved as though it were sculpted from sunfire and shadow itself.
Even the simplest gestures—walking across a room, stretching out his hand, breathing—felt different to him. Celestia's System had reforged him into something not quite mortal and not yet fully goddess-tier, but something undeniably divine. Something alpha. Something that radiated power simply by existing.
He felt the change immediately.
On the first day, he stepped into the training yard and froze. His entire body felt lighter, as though gravity had loosened its grip around him. Each step carried him farther. His balance felt perfect. His movements made no sound.
Bia looked at him with raised brows. "Damn, baby… you're moving like your muscles weigh nothing."
Serafina, sitting on the railing with her shadow-wings folded behind her, let out a knowing smirk. "That's because they don't. His divine structure is different now."
Leafa nodded gently, her green eyes glowing in approval. "Your bones, muscles, and spiritual channels are aligned to a divine pattern now. Lighter, stronger, faster."
Zumi curled his hand into a fist. Power moved beneath his skin—smooth, controlled, obedient.
"I could get used to this," he murmured.
The next two days shifted into formal training. Not physical. Not about fighting. It was about control—his aura, his presence, his divine pressure, and especially masking it.
Serafina led the instruction. As the Supreme Goddess of Darkness, she stood before him with her aura condensed to the thinnest thread, her voice low and proud. "Your presence is too raw. Too divine. If you don't refine it, you'll crack a room in half. Watch me."
She flicked her wrist.
Her aura disappeared. Completely.
Leafa blinked, startled. "I can't feel you at all."
"That," Serafina said, almost purring, "is perfect masking."
Zumi practiced for hours. At first, the stone beneath them cracked. The air pressure lifted and dropped. The temperature spiked. The entire mansion shook.
"Zumi! Stop shaking the mansion!" all the girls shouted at once.
But on the third day, he exhaled—and everything fell silent. His aura vanished. No heat, no pressure, no divine signature. Nothing but the gentle presence of someone you might pass in the street.
Gia stared at him, stunned. "I can't sense you at all. You feel like… a normal guy getting coffee."
Zumi smirked. "Good."
Then he snapped his fingers.
A pulse of divine heat shot straight at Kathy. She stumbled back, eyes wide. "Zumi, warn me first!"
The girls burst into laughter.
He lifted his hand again, but this time released an aura of soft warmth over Leafa. Her cheeks flushed as she whispered, "That felt like affection."
Serafina's smile turned sharp. "He's learning to code his aura with emotion. Very advanced."
Zumi's golden eyes gleamed. "I want my intentions clear. Whether kindness, warning… or something else."
Every girl blushed.
The fourth day grew intimate. Zumi learned to let his aura carry emotion. Love. Warmth. Comfort. Protection. He directed it toward Sakura.
Her breath hitched. Her knees trembled. "I feel… how much you care about me," she whispered.
He stepped forward and caught her gently. "I meant for you to."
The others melted in silent awe.
Then he turned toward a single leaf resting on a table. He projected malice. The leaf disintegrated instantly into dust.
A chill ran through the room.
Jasmine whispered, "So that's the danger side."
Serafina nodded with unmistakable pride. "That is a god-tier ability. Intent projection. You can collapse a weak mind with a thought."
Zumi rolled his shoulders lightly. "I'll keep refining it."
On the fifth day, he stepped into the center of the mansion's training hall, closed his eyes, and released his aura into the environment itself. The air trembled. The floor hummed beneath everyone's feet. The lights flickered like flames caught in a storm.
When he felt calm, the entire room settled into peace. When he focused anger, the walls vibrated. When he released dominance, every instinct in the room urged submission. When he released affection, warmth spread across the hall—every girl feeling cherished, wanted, protected.
Aurora fainted the first time. Bia scooped her up laughing. "He's too strong for her still."
By the end of the day, Zumi could mask his divine presence entirely, project emotion through aura, focus his presence on a single person, shape the environment with feeling, and control heat, pressure, force, and intent with the ease of breathing.
The man who had once lived in the slums now carried the presence of a young god standing at the edge of ascension.
And every girl around him felt it, adored it, and hungered for the next step.
Excitement still filled the mansion the following day. They had trained, studied, meditated, cooked, laughed, sparred, and lived together in preparation for the moment that awaited them. So on the night before the entrance exam results, Zumi gathered all the girls and took them out. A full team outing. A celebration before destiny arrived.
They walked through Times Square, Zumi masking his aura flawlessly, appearing as nothing more than an ordinary—if breathtakingly handsome—student surrounded by a group of impossibly beautiful women. People stared. Some whispered. A few men stepped back when Zumi's golden eyes flicked toward them with the faintest touch of divine pressure.
They visited a rooftop ramen shop, then a late-night arcade, followed by a dessert café, and finally a quiet bridge overlooking the city lights. Bia leaned against his arm. Serafina wrapped a delicate coil of shadow around his wrist in affection. Leafa held his hand with gentle warmth. Gia stayed close at his side, radiating safety and pride. Catherine looked as though she was falling deeper with every passing second.
Jasmine whispered, "I could get used to this life."
Zumi didn't say much. He didn't have to. His presence alone made each of them feel cherished.
Ten days later, the entire New York Education Institute gathered in the colossal auditorium. Students, teachers, evaluators, officials—every seat was filled. This exam determined scholarships, training placements, elite mentorship opportunities, and admission priority. The highest scores meant national recognition.
When Zumi and his group entered, whispers rippled across the room. Some stared at Catherine's tattoos and intimidating aura. Others stared at Zumi's impossible attractiveness. Most stared because they sensed something emanating from him—something powerful, even if they couldn't explain it.
They took their seats as the headmaster stepped up to the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen… the results are in."
A giant screen lit up behind him.
The first name appeared.
Rank #1 — Zumi Gold.
The entire auditorium froze. Silence held for several long seconds before chaos erupted.
"Who is that!?"
"How is that possible!?"
"He didn't even look stressed during the exam!"
"He broke every record—every category!?"
Even the staff began whispering among themselves.
Gia smirked proudly.
Sakura clasped her hands, barely containing her excitement.
Serafina looked unbothered, as if this outcome was inevitable.
Catherine looked like she might kiss him on the spot.
Jasmine muttered, "Our man is ridiculous…"
Zumi didn't react. He simply blinked once—calm, controlled, dominant.
Then the room gasped again as the next name appeared.
Rank #2 — Emily Hart.
Every girl in Zumi's group went still.
"…Who?"
"Emily?"
"Who is that?"
"That's not one of us."
"How did she place right after Zumi?"
The list continued to scroll.
Rank #3 — Gia
Rank #4 — Jasmine
Rank #5 — Hina
Rank #6 — Sakura
Rank #7 — Ana
Rank #8 — Reina
Rank #9 — Bethany
Rank #10 — Daniel Pierce
Rank #11 — Kathy
Rank #12 — Marissa Lowell
Everyone in Zumi's circle had landed in the top twelve.
But Emily Hart had taken the second place—the only person standing between Zumi and the rest of his family.
Catherine lifted an eyebrow. "That's interesting."
"Whoever she is… she's smart," Jasmine whispered.
Bia crossed her arms, smirking. "Not smarter than Zumi, but still impressive."
Serafina's lips curved thoughtfully. "Unusual. Mortals do not typically surpass those touched by divinity."
Zumi leaned slightly toward Gia, his voice quiet and dangerously contemplative.
"Gia."
"Yes, Zumi?"
"Do some digging on this Emily Hart."
Gia nodded without hesitation. "I'll find everything. Background, family, medical records, any power affiliations, neighborhood. If she ranked second under you… it matters."
Zumi's eyes narrowed. "Exactly."
The auditorium filled with applause as cameras flashed and cheers rose around them. But Zumi's group remained still, calm, silent, their minds not on the celebration but on the single unexpected name that had appeared above them all—except him.
Emily Hart had become relevant.
And anyone who ranked directly beneath Zumi Gold was destined to be either extraordinary… or destiny itself.
The auditorium was still buzzing—whispers, shock, disbelief, excitement—when the Headmaster raised the microphone again. His voice boomed through the hall, sharp and commanding. "Quiet, please. Everyone… calm yourselves." The noise dissolved almost instantly. Students settled back into their seats. Teachers straightened along the rows. A hush rolled across the enormous room. The Headmaster continued, "In five days, the school year will officially begin. Each of you will receive an envelope delivered to your home. Inside will be your class schedule, your dorm or transit instructions, the official address of the campus, your student ID QR code, and orientation rules. Teachers will receive their schedules as well." Every ear in the auditorium listened carefully. "Until then," he concluded, "you are dismissed. Rest, prepare, and return ready to learn." He bowed, clicked off the microphone, and the ceremony ended. Zumi's group rose together as the crowd slowly funneled toward the exits. Whispers clung to them like shadows. "Those girls are all with him?" "That tattooed one is scary…" "No, the pink-haired one is scarier." "Did you see their ranks?" None of them reacted. They were used to attention; the outside world didn't matter. Their world centered on Zumi. Sunlight welcomed them as they stepped out of the building. At that moment, Catherine's phone buzzed. She glanced down, then looked up at Zumi with a soft smile. "My father. He wants to see me. Just a normal check-in." The girls nodded with understanding. This time, there was no jealousy. Catherine was family now, and they loved her as one of their own. They drew her into a warm group hug. Sakura chirped a cheerful goodbye. Jasmine told her to message if she needed anything. Leafa reminded her that her room would always be ready. Hina warned her not to slack on training. Ana promised they would miss her. Reina asked her to be safe. Bethany told her not to forget to eat. Kathy added quietly that she should call if anything happened. Gia hugged her firmly, her voice filled with affection as she said she was one of them now. Catherine's eyes softened. She had never known warmth like this. Then she turned to Zumi. She stepped into him, her arms sliding around his torso, her cheek resting against his chest. She lifted her face and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'll see you soon… Zumi." He returned the kiss with calm certainty. Her smile afterward was bright, hopeful, and full of promise. A sleek black car pulled up at the curb. Antonio stepped out, bowed respectfully to Zumi, and opened the door for Catherine. She waved one last time before stepping inside. The car rolled away, carrying her toward her father's home. For a moment, the group watched it disappear down the street. Then Zumi stretched his shoulders slightly. "I'm going for a walk. Clear my head." The girls nodded. They knew he valued solitude when he was thinking. And now, with a divine body still settling into place, he moved through the city with a calm power that bent the atmosphere around him. Back at the mansion, everyone fell naturally into their rhythms. Serafina returned to her books and the slow, precise compression of shadow energy. Bia wandered into the training yard to lift something absurdly heavy just because she could. Leafa tended to her plants, coaxing gentle warmth through the halls. Jasmine began planning breakfast. Hina meditated in the training room, dark flame swirling around her. Kathy checked the security systems and perimeter sensors. Bethany immediately collapsed onto her bed for a nap. Reina journaled about her future classes. Sakura practiced her dance and conditioning. Ana curled up on the couch with anime playing softly. No insecurity lingered. No jealousy crept in. They were a family now. Gia, meanwhile, shut herself in her room and sat down at her desk. She had two missions. The first was finding an assistant—someone Zumi had instructed her to recruit. She accessed the Dojima Family Network, scrolling through profiles, cross-checking records, loyalty charts, and evaluations. After an hour of searching, she stopped. One profile caught her eye. She read it closely. "…Found her." She stood immediately, grabbed her coat, and headed for the door. The interview had to be conducted in person at the Dojima household. Before leaving, she initiated her second task: investigating Emily Hart. She sent the first probe request—background details, family ties, school history, psychological markers. "If she's ranked number two under Zumi," she whispered, "I need to know everything." Then she slipped out of the mansion, quiet as a shadow. The house gradually settled into a peaceful stillness. The girls moved comfortably in their patterns. Catherine traveled home to her father. Zumi walked the city alone, letting the evening wind cool his thoughts. Gia hunted for an assistant and answers. And the countdown began—five days until the start of the new school year. Five days until the beginning of a new era.