At Kondo Daiwa's house, Rojin stood before a full-length mirror covered by a curtain.
A question lingered in his mind: why had Kindo decided to take home such a suspicious-looking mirror?
The dark purple frame was stained with unknown blotches, reminiscent of dried blood or something else.
At the top of the mirror, a skull wearing a wizard hat stared blankly into the void.
Its hollow eyes seemed to hide some secret.
In reality, it was just decoration.
When communicating with the mirror, Kindo had learned that the frame and the reflective surface were separate.
The frame was a normal iron craft, while the mirror itself…
"Oh, my God, look who's here!"
"I bet it's definitely not our poor Kindo boy. Poor thing—he has no idea what he's going through!"
"Holy Mary, this is terrible. Like an overcooked apple pie!"
A grating, unnatural translation-like voice came from beneath the curtain.
It sounded like a sharp-tongued woman, yet there were only two people in the room: Rojin and the institute agent.
"What about the inspection report?"
Rojin ignored the verbose mirror and asked the agent.
"The tests show Kindo Yamato's mind is normal, with no signs of interference."
After Kindo was brought to the institute, scientists immediately performed a full-body examination, including mental assessment.
With the institute's technology, abnormalities in mind—or even the soul—would be detectable and correctable.
"Even after picking up this hideous mirror?"
Rojin quietly gestured at the covered mirror.
Honestly, the mirror's appearance was offensive.
The reflective surface was fine, but decorated in a punkish style.
The frame looked like the vomit of a drunk artist splattered onto a toilet, as if for stress relief.
"Yes. So far, it seems he picked it up entirely on his own accord."
The agent scratched his head.
He could not understand why someone would randomly bring such an object home.
Kindo's parents weren't elite, but earned a decent income.
His allowance was generous compared to classmates.
Why did he take this thing home?
"Oh, my friend, for heaven's sake, could you—if possible—move this curtain smelling like old socks off me?"
"Lord, this is unbearable."
The mirror kept chattering, trying to speak to Rojin.
But to Rojin, it was just talking to itself.
It showed no urgent desire to communicate—just self-entertainment.
Rubbing his smooth chin, Rojin said:
"Oh, stop that pathetic translation act."
"Your silly translation voice is annoying."
"I assure you, if— and I mean if—you speak in that groundhog-like translation tone again, I will shater your shit with my boot! I swear!"
His father had said: magic is defeated with magic.
Similarly, translation voice is countered with translation voice.
"Uh…"
The mirror paused briefly.
Rojin was the first person it had encountered like this.
The agent holding the tablet whispered into Rojin's ear.
This absurd translation voice confused not just the mirror, but the agent too.
"Now, what did you want from me?"
After a few seconds of silence, the mirror spoke in a normal tone.
"Oh, my friend, we face a great trouble."
"Yes, you heard me right—great trouble, concerning you."
Listening to Rojin's tone, the mirror went silent.
What did this guy mean?
"Oh, my dear—wait, let's speak properly!"
Just as the mirror tried to respond in its translation tone, it noticed Rojin's raised foot.
Is he going to kick me?!
Is this person out of their mind?!
"First, tell me—what exactly are you?"
Rojin set his foot down and silently noted on the tablet: Not observing through the mirror, yet able to perceive the surroundings even when covered.
"I'm just a mirror. I may know many things, but I'm still just a mirror," the mirror said.
"I receive a lot of information from time to time. I can't control it myself."
"I can only passively receive it. The type and content aren't something I can choose."
"A month ago, I was lying quietly in another world's labyrinth—the demon lord's labyrinth."
"But suddenly I came to this world. I don't even understand what happened."
"Kindo's situation has nothing to do with me. I really didn't do anything—just provided him with a spiritual awakening ritual."
Before Rojin could press further, the mirror poured out all the information it had, as if tipping over a bag of beans.
It had just received a large amount of data again—general and vague, but enough to identify the two people in front of it.
Members of the Institute under the Humanity Protection Agency.
A long string of titles.
Though it didn't understand exactly what this agency was, the information suggested a rather ambiguous attitude toward unusual objects like itself.
They might utilize it, contain it, or even smash it on the spot.
This world was too beautiful—it didn't want to shatter into shards of glass.
"Good."
Rojin nodded, satisfied with this cooperative entity.
It looked like the Institute had another containment object and research target.
For objects with unusual abilities, the Institute primarily contained and researched them.
However, if faced with uncontrollable force, they would opt to destroy it outright.
Not long ago, the Institute destroyed a phonograph that could induce suicide.
Rojin had personally handled that project.