— — — — — —
"What?"
"Wait a damn sec—what did you just say? You're planning to hand Sakura over to the Matou family? Are you two insane?!"
Kaito's voice spiked with disbelief, his frown sharp enough to cut steel. His tone carried both shock and genuine outrage.
The sudden explosion of anger froze the Tohsaka family. Both Aoi and Tokiomi blinked at him, confused.
Tokiomi immediately furrowed his brow, trying to demand an explanation, but Kaito only gave him a long, unreadable look. Crossing his arms like he was sitting on a throne, he finally said, "Looks like the details might not line up between our worlds. Maybe the Matou family isn't quite the same here. We'll talk about it once we're home."
Then, as if remembering something, he raised his left wrist. A sleek electronic watch gleamed there, crafted so seamlessly it looked like it had no seams at all—a design decades beyond its time.
"Jarvis," he said in English, "deploy the nanodrone swarm. Scan the Matou estate."
"Yes, sir," came a polite, synthetic male voice from the device.
The watch detached itself from his wrist and instantly broke apart into a cloud of tiny, hovering fragments, scattering like a swarm of metallic insects.
Up close, one would see each was no larger than a mosquito—microscopic drones buzzing through the air.
They slipped out of the open window and into the sky.
The Tohsaka family could only gape. The sight was straight out of science fiction.
Well—except Sakura.
Her eyes lit up like stars. "Wow!" she breathed, staring at the "older father" with unfiltered awe.
Kaito reached over and ruffled her hair, smiling down at her with all the fondness of a doting father.
Aoi blinked, momentarily startled by the warmth in his gesture. Then, almost against her will, she found herself smiling too, her gaze softening as it lingered on the man.
Tokiomi, on the other hand, was seething.
Yes, he had already accepted this "Kaito" was some parallel version of himself. But seeing his wife and daughter look at that old impostor with the affection that belonged only to him? The jealousy twisted inside him like a knife.
He had no name for it yet, but someday the internet would. This was the original case of being "cucked."
Meanwhile, Kaito kept up the act of a warmhearted family man, doting on Sakura like he'd known her forever. But inside, he was barely keeping a straight face.
If not for the passive buff of his [Perfect Acting] skill, he'd have burst into laughter already. After all, he could literally see Tokiomi's emotional state feeding into his system as fun points.
His log was spamming with entries like: [Tokiomi Tohsaka generates overwhelming resentment. +10 fun points]
The great and serious magus, outwardly dignified, was a comedy goldmine on the inside. Kaito nearly lost it. It felt like he'd accidentally walked into the finals of a "try not to laugh" challenge.
The car sped on toward the Tohsaka mansion. Sakura sat quietly but kept sneaking curious glances at her "new father." Aoi focused on driving but stole glances through the rear-view mirror.
Tokiomi, however, was deep in frantic thought, replaying everything Kaito had said and done since his arrival.
Finally, after hesitation, he summoned a familiar—an ominous black crow—to carry a message. It flew toward the Matou estate, bearing word that unexpected circumstances had delayed Sakura's adoption into the Matou family. The matter would be postponed.
He didn't cancel it outright, but still his trust in the Matou family—once absolute—was shaken. Doubt and suspicion had begun to take root.
The crow arrived swiftly at the Matou residence.
Even in broad daylight, the estate radiated decay and dread, its halls more like a haunted house than a home. The crow landed on a second-floor window of the study.
Inside, at the far end of the room, sat Zouken Matou.
A withered husk of a man, he was grotesque even without makeup—bald, frail, stinking of age and rot. His milky-white pupils and inverted eyes stared unblinking at the bird.
The moment he realized it wasn't Tokiomi in person but a familiar that had come, his expression darkened. Something had gone wrong.
The crow spoke in Tokiomi's voice, relaying the message with impeccable politeness. But because familiars lacked personal tone or inflection, the words came across chillingly flat—like a weight pressing down on the room.
Zouken felt as though the bird carried Reiatsu, as if it might casually say, "Matou Zouken… when did you think I wasn't using Kyouka Suigetsu?"
It was absurd, yet the oppressive aura was real.
Zouken forced himself to respond calmly, dismissing the crow with polite acceptance. But the moment it was gone, his face twisted into an ugly sneer.
"Someone interfered. Tokiomi's too much of a fool to change his mind on his own. He was already on his way, so something… or someone… must have stopped him."
His withered mind churned, piecing things together.
It couldn't have been any outsider. For the last century, Zouken had been reclusive, his every move hidden, his enemies long dead. Only someone with a personal connection could possibly meddle.
The conclusion came sharp as a knife:
"Kariya."
"Yes… it must be you. My wayward ungrateful son. You ran from this family years ago, yet still dare to defy me? To interfere with my grand design?"
A grotesque chuckle rattled through his throat. "You've enjoyed too much freedom, Kariya. Now it's time you finally learned the true horror of the Matou family's darkness."
The shadows of the study writhed. Something slithered and crawled—countless squirming things moving just out of sight.
Far away, still working as a report writer outside of Fuyuki, Kariya Matou sneezed suddenly. A chill crawled down his spine. For no reason, he felt as though something foul and unholy had just set its gaze on him.
.
.
.