Rimuru wasn't lying—she truly saw no one on her level. Her perfectionism had kept her like an untouched temple for years, and now, she had opened that temple only to Mai.
They were getting dressed in their school uniforms when suddenly, Mai's phone rang, shattering the calm of the morning. The name "Mother" flashed across the screen. Flustered, Mai reached for it:
"Oh, she must be worried… I should—"
But Rimuru, with the same speed and decisiveness she applied to everything, snatched the phone from Mai's hand. Without a moment's hesitation, she pressed the call button and spoke, her voice clear and commanding:
"Hello, Mother. This is Rimuru."
A brief silence came from the other end, and then Mai's mother's excited voice erupted, full of joy and disbelief:
"Rimuru? Is that really you? That smart, beautiful neighbor girl? Oh my God! You finally came back?"
Then, without any preamble, Mai's mother asked with boundless enthusiasm:
"You came back… to marry my daughter?"
Even Rimuru, with all her intelligence and poise, froze for a moment. She had expected any question—but not this level of directness. She slightly moved the phone away, glanced at Mai—her face already turning a deep shade of purple—and asked:
"Is she always this… straightforward?"
Mai whimpered, wishing she could sink through the floor from embarrassment:
"No… I swear she's never been like this before!"
Rimuru smirked. She loved unexpected situations. Bringing the phone back to her ear, her voice now firm, serious, and commanding, she said:
"Yes, Mother. Exactly for that reason, I've returned. So don't worry about Mai at all; from now on, she is under my complete care."
After hanging up, Rimuru handed the phone back to Mai and, straightening her uniform collar, added:
"Well, it seems not only have I burned the bridges behind me, but your mother has too. There's officially no way to escape now, little star."