We didn't approach immediately.
Of course we didn't.
Because despite everything I've said about confidence, timing, and vibes, there is one universal truth that governs all operations of this magnitude.
You huddle first.
We stood a few meters away, slightly hidden behind a stall that was definitely not meant to conceal a group of grown men acting like suspicious idiots. I crossed my arms, narrowed my eyes, and leaned in like a commander about to brief his troops before battle.
"Alright, Mr. Biceps," I said seriously. "This is the moment of truth. The culmination of everything we've done so far. The point where history will either remember you as a man who succeeded... or as a man who fumbled the Fire Mommy."
"This is your moment," I said. "Time for you to catch the Fire Mommy..."
I paused.
Lowered my voice dramatically.
"...and make tiny fiery scholars."
Alhaitham looked at me like he was reconsidering life itself, which, to be fair, was a reasonable reaction considering who he chose to listen to today.
"I just want to invite her to work with me," he said, as if repeating it enough times would somehow purify this situation of my influence.
I pointed at him immediately, because clearly the problem here was that he didn't realize how deep he already was. "And that," I said, leaning in with the confidence of a man who has never once questioned himself, "is exactly how it starts."
He blinked once. Slow. Careful. Dangerous. "...What?"
"That's how Blondie and I started," I continued, completely ignoring the warning signs. "Simple. Professional. Clean. Then suddenly—boom. Emotions. Complications. Me almost dying several times. It's a natural progression."
Kaveh stared at me like I had just described a disaster report instead of a love story. "...I'm not sure that comparison is helping," he muttered.
"It's absolutely helping," I insisted, waving a hand like I was presenting undeniable facts. "Every great relationship starts somewhere. Sometimes it's mutual understanding, sometimes it's shared goals, sometimes it's—" I paused, then grinned, "—pure, unfiltered chaos."
Cyno, traitor that he is, nodded thoughtfully. "Statistically, chaos has led to unexpected outcomes," he added, like he was citing an academic paper titled Why Everything Goes Wrong and Still Works Somehow.
"THANK YOU," I said, pointing at him like he had just validated my entire existence.
Tighnari pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted.
"...What is the purpose of this huddle?" Kaveh asked, glancing around like he was searching for an exit that didn't exist.
Cyno straightened again—mistake number one—and delivered it with full confidence. "It's a huddle because we're huddling. If we weren't, it would be a muddle."
There was a pause. A long one. The kind that stretches so far it becomes its own dimension.
I stared at him. Kaveh stared at him. Alhaitham stared at him. Tighnari looked like his soul quietly left his body, packed its bags, and chose a better life.
Greg did what needed to be done.
Tail.
Direct contact.
"...That was uncalled for," Cyno said, rubbing his forehead.
"No, it wasn't," I replied instantly. "That was public service."
Tighnari raised a hand again, weaker this time, like a man who had already lost. "Can I leave?" he asked.
"No," we all said in unison, which honestly impressed me. Coordination like that doesn't come often.
Greg flicked his tail again, just to make it official.
"...I regret everything," Tighnari muttered.
"Same," Kaveh said.
"Same," Alhaitham added.
"No regrets," Cyno replied, because of course he did.
I nodded, satisfied. "That's the spirit."
Then I pointed forward, shifting instantly back into mission mode. "Focus."
All of us turned.
And there they were.
Dehya, laughing with Lumine, Nilou, and Paimon—completely relaxed, completely unaware. Dunyarzad stood nearby, smiling softly, and Collei was engaged in the conversation too. It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
Which meant we were about to ruin it.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice like a hunter narrating a documentary no one asked for. "See that?" I whispered. "That's our target."
Alhaitham nodded, expression sharpening just a little. Cyno nodded like this was an official operation. Kaveh sighed like he wanted to disappear. Tighnari sighed like he wished he already had.
Greg climbed onto my head like he was claiming the high ground, because of course he was.
"...You're heavy," I muttered.
He flicked my hair in response.
Rude.
"Alright, gang," I continued quietly. "Here's the plan."
Kaveh raised his hand immediately, because he had learned nothing. "We actually have a plan?"
"We don't," I said confidently. "But we're going to pretend we do."
"...That's worse," he replied.
Tighnari stepped in, clearly done with all of us. "...Separate them," he said. "Create an opening. Get the others away so Alhaitham can talk to Dehya alone."
We all paused.
Then slowly turned to look at him.
"...That's actually good," I admitted.
"Efficient," Alhaitham said.
"Logical," Cyno added.
Greg flicked his tail.
Approved.
Tighnari didn't even react. He looked like a man who had accepted that being the smartest person in the room was actually a curse.
"...Can I leave now?" he asked again.
"No."
"...Of course," he muttered.
I clapped once, energized. "Alright, we move soon. But before that—"
I turned slowly to Alhaitham, smiling like I was about to ruin his life further.
"I'm going to teach you a technique."
He immediately frowned. "...I don't like that sentence."
"Too late," I replied.
I grabbed Kaveh before he could escape.
"...Why am I involved!?"
"For science," I said, which made it valid.
I pulled him forward and slammed my hand against the wall beside his head.
Kabedon.
Clean. Precise. Devastating. Possibly illegal.
Kaveh froze instantly, like his brain had temporarily disconnected from his body.
Cyno leaned in, fascinated. Tighnari blinked like he was trying to process what he was witnessing. Alhaitham frowned deeper. Greg tilted his head, silently judging all of us.
"This," I said, completely serious, "is a Kabedon."
"...Why are you doing this to me," Kaveh muttered, voice hollow.
"Focus," I continued. "It's about presence, proximity, and pressure. You create a moment where the other person becomes aware of you—fully. It's bold. It's direct. It says, 'I am here, and you cannot ignore me.'"
"...Or it says 'I am about to get punched,'" Alhaitham replied, his tone so flat it could flatten mountains.
"Depends on execution," I shot back immediately, because obviously the problem here wasn't the technique—it was the user. "You're thinking like a man preparing for impact. I'm thinking like a man creating impact. Completely different mindset."
He stared at me like I had just proven his point instead of mine.
I stepped back, finally releasing Kaveh, who didn't just take two steps away—he kept going like distance alone could save him from whatever I was about to say next.
"I used this once," I added, casually, like I wasn't about to drop something incredibly questionable.
Lumine flashed in my memory, bright, soft, terrifying in her own way.
"...And it worked," I said, nodding to myself.
Tighnari didn't even try to hide the skepticism anymore. "...Did it?" he asked, the kind of tone you use when you already know the answer is going to be bad.
"She didn't punch me," I replied proudly, because that was, objectively, a success.
There was a pause.
Not a small pause.
A very long, very heavy pause.
"That's your standard?" Tighnari asked slowly, like he was re-evaluating my entire existence.
"That's a high bar," I said, doubling down without hesitation. "You underestimate how dangerous that situation could've been. I walked away unharmed. That's a victory."
Cyno nodded with absolute seriousness. "Survival rate is important," he agreed. "If the probability of injury is reduced, then the method is statistically viable."
"See?" I pointed at him. "He gets it."
"I do not think he should be the one validating your logic," Tighnari muttered.
Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose like he was trying to physically remove the headache forming in his brain. "That sounds like a terrible idea," he said. "In fact, I am fairly certain that if I attempted that, Dehya would hit me."
I stepped forward again and placed a hand on his shoulder—firm, supportive, completely uninvited.
"Just accept it," I said, lowering my voice like I was sharing forbidden knowledge. "If she hits you, it's probably a form of love."
He slowly turned his head toward me.
"...No," he said. "It is not."
Cyno raised a finger again, because of course he did. "If she hits you, that would be a striking response," he said.
Greg did not hesitate.
Tail.
Direct contact.
Cyno's head tilted slightly from the impact.
"...Worth it," he muttered anyway, completely unrepentant.
I took a deep breath, letting the chaos settle for half a second, and looked at all of them—this absolutely questionable team I had somehow assembled. A scholar who regretted everything, an architect who wanted to leave, a forest ranger who definitely should have left, a general who weaponized puns, and a lizard who was the only one making consistent sense.
...Perfect.
I grinned.
"Alright, men," I said, clapping once to gather attention, my voice carrying just enough confidence to convince absolutely no one but myself. "This is it. No more theory. No more discussion. This is where everything we've—" I paused, then corrected myself, "—everything I've taught you comes together."
"That is not reassuring," Kaveh muttered under his breath.
I ignored him.
"This is your moment," I continued, pointing at Alhaitham again like I was assigning him a quest. "You walk in. You stay calm. You don't overthink. You don't start sounding like a book. You speak like a person. A normal person. With feelings. Try it. It's a new experience."
"...I already speak normally," he said.
"No, you don't," I replied instantly. "You sound like you're about to cite references mid-conversation."
Cyno nodded. "He does give off citation energy."
Tighnari sighed. "That is... unfortunately accurate."
Alhaitham closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. "I am surrounded by incompetence."
"And yet," I said, spreading my arms slightly, "you chose us."
"...That was a mistake."
"Too late," I said cheerfully.
I turned and pointed forward again—toward Dehya, toward Lumine, Nilou, Paimon, Dunyarzad, Collei—toward the peaceful scene we were absolutely about to disrupt.
"Time to move out," I said, lowering my voice into something dramatic and unnecessary.
No one saluted.
No one responded.
But they moved anyway.
And just like that, powered by nothing but chaos, misplaced confidence, one actually good idea from Tighnari, and my undeniable brilliance, we stepped out of hiding.
A group of idiots.
Not just walking—but committing.
Marching toward either Alhaitham's success...
Or his complete and utter downfall.
I watched him from the corner of my eye as we moved, already imagining the possibilities—the smooth success, the catastrophic failure, the potential punch, the emotional damage.
Honestly?
I was excited either way.
***
We found them faster than expected, which immediately felt suspicious to me. Things never go smoothly when I'm involved. If anything, smooth meant we were about to walk straight into something chaotic without even realizing it.
They were gathered near a stall, casually enjoying what looked like freshly made crepes. Thin, warm, slightly crispy on the edges, folded neatly with something sweet inside. The smell alone hit me like divine intervention.
I paused mid-step, staring.
"…We should've eaten first," I muttered, because priorities mattered.
"No," Alhaitham replied without even looking at me, his eyes already locked onto Dehya like a man who had committed to a terrible decision and was too far in to turn back. "We finish this first."
I slowly turned toward him, genuinely impressed. "Wow. Look at you. Focused. Determined. Slightly desperate. Character development."
"I am not desperate."
"You're about to pin someone to a wall in public."
"…That's your fault."
"Still counts."
We didn't sneak in. We didn't hesitate. We didn't even pretend to be subtle. We just walked in like a group of idiots with a shared goal and zero shame.
Paimon noticed us first.
She froze mid-bite, squinted at us, then pointed like she had just spotted a natural disaster approaching.
"Oh look," she said flatly, "the idiots… and they multiplied."
I placed a hand over my chest like I had been personally attacked. "That hurts, Floaty. We prefer 'elite task force.'"
"…Task force of what?" she asked.
"Bad decisions."
"…Accurate."
Lumine sighed before we even fully arrived, like she had already lived through this exact moment in a previous life.
"I knew this would happen," she muttered, rubbing her temple. "I don't know how, but I knew."
Nilou, on the other hand, brightened immediately. She stepped forward and gently held onto my arm, smiling like I hadn't just been leading a disaster squad.
"Shigeru," she said warmly, like she hadn't just witnessed me leading a walking disaster squad toward her and her friends.
I grinned, because of course I did. "Heya, Goddess. Miss me?"
She laughed softly, the kind of laugh that makes you forget you were about to cause problems. "You've been gone for five minutes."
"Felt like years," I replied immediately, because suffering is relative.
"…You were behind a fruit stall," she said, deadpan but still smiling.
"Time moves differently there," I insisted. "It's a whole different dimension. There were fruits. Philosophical thoughts. Betrayal."
"…Betrayal?"
I glanced at Greg.
He did not look back.
"Long story," I muttered.
She shook her head, still smiling, clearly used to this by now. "We were just talking with everyone."
"With food," I added again, my eyes drifting back to the crepe like it was calling me.
"With friends," she corrected gently.
"Even better," I admitted, because honestly that was fair.
Greg, traitor that he is, chose that exact moment to jump off my shoulder and land on Lumine's like he had just filed for a team transfer.
I watched him in silence for a second.
"…You abandoned me," I said, slow and betrayed.
He flicked his tail.
No hesitation.
No guilt.
No loyalty.
Just vibes.
"I raised you better than this," I added under my breath.
He flicked his tail again.
Disagreement.
Cyno, clearly sensing an opportunity to contribute something absolutely unnecessary, stepped forward slightly.
"I suppose you could say we arrived… on a roll," he said, gesturing lightly toward the crepes like this was a calculated move.
There was a pause, the kind that stretched just a little too long, just enough for everyone to realize something had gone terribly wrong—or was about to go very, very right in the worst possible way.
Tighnari turned first, slowly, like he was giving Cyno one final chance to rethink his entire existence. Lumine followed right after, much faster, much sharper, both of them locking onto him with the exact same expression—one that very clearly asked, without words, is this worth violence?
"…Don't," Tighnari said, calm but heavy.
"…Please don't," Lumine added, somehow even more threatening despite keeping her voice low.
Cyno paused, actually paused, like he was processing their input as if it were valuable data. "…I will save it for later," he decided.
"No," Tighnari replied instantly, not even giving the idea time to breathe. "Don't save it. Delete it. Bury it. Pretend it never existed."
"…Noted," Cyno said, with the confidence of someone who absolutely was not going to follow that advice.
And just like that, the chaos shifted.
Because the real focus of this entire disaster wasn't the pun, or the crepes, or even me.
It was Alhaitham.
He wasn't listening anymore. Not to me, not to them, not to anything. The noise around him might as well have disappeared completely, because all of his attention had locked onto a single point.
Dehya.
Focused. Still. Unmoving.
The kind of focus that only comes from two possibilities—either he was about to do something incredibly important… or something incredibly stupid with full awareness of the consequences.
Kaveh leaned closer to me, lowering his voice like Alhaitham might somehow hear him thinking. "…I cannot believe he's actually going to try what you taught him," he whispered, sounding halfway between disbelief and resignation.
I nodded, completely unbothered. "My teachings are revolutionary."
"They are criminal."
"Revolutionary and criminal," I corrected immediately. "The best kind. History remembers people like me."
"…As a warning," Kaveh muttered.
I ignored him and leaned toward Alhaitham instead, lowering my voice into something that resembled coaching, even if it absolutely was not.
"Don't think," I whispered. "Thinking leads to hesitation, hesitation leads to failure, and failure leads to me laughing at you for the next ten years. Possibly longer. I have commitment."
"…You are not helping," he muttered without looking at me.
"I am helping," I replied. "Aggressively. There's a difference."
He exhaled slowly, like a man preparing to step off a cliff he already knew he couldn't climb back from.
Then he moved.
One step.
Then another.
And then—he paused.
Just for a second.
I narrowed my eyes immediately.
He was thinking.
Dangerous.
Then he fake coughed.
It was terrible.
Not subtle. Not convincing. Not even remotely natural.
But somehow… it worked.
Dehya turned, casual, relaxed, smiling like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong in the next few seconds.
"Hey," she said easily. "What's up?"
And that was it.
That was the trigger.
Because everything that followed happened too fast to stop and too perfectly to fix.
Alhaitham moved, closing the distance in one clean motion, his hand coming up to her shoulders as he guided her back with surprising decisiveness. It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't unsure. It was controlled—almost practiced.
Back met wall.
His hand came up, planting firmly beside her head.
Kabedon.
Executed.
Clean.
Precise.
And completely insane.
For a moment, everything slowed—not in reality, but in the way your mind tries to catch up to something it didn't expect to see.
Dehya's eyes widened just slightly, just for a fraction of a second, before something shifted in her expression.
Not surprise.
Not discomfort.
Interest.
A grin.
And the moment I saw that, I knew.
Oh.
Oh no.
Behind them, I completely lost composure, my hand shooting out to grab Cyno's shoulder like I needed something to ground me.
"LET'S GOOOO—" I started, fully invested in this like it was a championship match.
A sharp hit landed on the back of my head.
Lumine.
Of course it was Lumine.
"Be quiet," she hissed.
"I am being quiet," I whispered loudly, which defeated the entire purpose.
"You are not," she snapped immediately.
"I am emotionally quiet."
"That is not a thing."
Nilou leaned slightly against me, laughing softly, clearly enjoying this entire situation far more than she probably should, which honestly made this even worse.
Paimon covered her face, peeking through her fingers like she couldn't decide whether to watch or not. "Why does this feel illegal…?" she muttered.
Greg sat comfortably on Lumine's shoulder, tail swaying lazily like a judge observing a case that had already been decided.
Collei tugged gently on Tighnari's sleeve, eyes wide with confusion. "…What's happening?" she asked.
Tighnari didn't even turn.
"…A mistake," he said, calm, tired, accepting.
Cyno, somehow still determined to contribute, leaned slightly toward them. "A bold move," he added.
"…Stop narrating," Tighnari replied instantly.
And in the center of all of this chaos—
Alhaitham.
Despite everything happening around him.
Despite me.
Despite reality itself.
He spoke.
And somehow, against all expectations, against all logic, against every warning sign—
He sounded composed.
Confident.
Smooth.
"I've been considering your capabilities," he said. "Your combat experience, adaptability, and independence would make you valuable in a collaborative environment. I would like to work with you more closely."
There was a pause—long enough to be noticed, short enough to be dangerous, the kind of silence that makes every word that came before it echo a little louder than it should.
And the more I replayed what he just said in my head, the worse it sounded.
Not like a proposal for collaboration.
Not like a professional invitation.
No.
That sounded like a confession.
A very composed, very scholarly, very "I have thought about this extensively" confession.
I felt it immediately.
That shift in the air.
That moment where things either go incredibly right… or catastrophically wrong.
I was vibrating.
Not internally.
Visibly.
"MY MAN," I whispered—loudly enough that it absolutely was not a whisper.
A hand smacked the back of my head with practiced precision.
I didn't even need to turn.
Lumine.
I accepted it with dignity.
Well. As much dignity as I had left.
In front of us, Dehya tilted her head slightly, her expression sharpening—not confused, not surprised anymore, but interested. Amused. Like she had just realized she was no longer the one being observed.
And then she moved.
Not hesitating.
Not thinking.
Just moving.
Fast.
Her hand came up, caught Alhaitham by the shoulder, and before he could even react properly, she turned him—smooth, controlled, effortless.
Back.
Wall.
Contact.
Her arm braced beside his head.
Kabedon.
Reversed.
For a split second, even I stopped breathing.
Alhaitham's eyes widened.
Not slightly.
Not subtly.
Actually widened.
System failure.
Full shutdown.
If he had a loading screen, I swear I would've seen it.
I physically leaned forward, gripping Cyno's shoulder like I needed support.
"COUNTERATTACK—" I started, fully prepared to narrate this like a battlefield report.
"Shigeru."
Lumine didn't raise her voice.
She didn't need to.
I shut up immediately.
Temporarily.
Dehya leaned in just enough to make the moment intentional, her smirk slow and deliberate, eyes locked on him like she was testing something.
"…Are you asking me on a date?" she asked, voice light but pointed, like she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear how he'd handle it.
She tilted her head a little more, clearly enjoying this.
"…Me? A mercenary?"
Alhaitham opened his mouth.
Paused.
Nothing came out.
Not a word.
Not a sound.
Error.
Rebooting.
Retrying.
Failed.
Dehya's grin widened just slightly—victory, quiet and confident.
"I'll take that as a yes," she said, as if she had just made a decision on his behalf.
Then she stepped back, completely in control, like the entire exchange had gone exactly the way she wanted.
She turned, walked away without a second glance, and somehow made it look like she hadn't just flipped the entire dynamic in one move.
There was another pause.
Different this time.
Heavier.
Processing.
Kaveh exhaled slowly, staring at where she had been like he was trying to reconstruct what just happened. "…Well… that was something."
"Unexpected," he added after a beat, like that somehow made it more normal.
Cyno nodded thoughtfully, because of course he did. "That was a heated interaction," he said, absolutely committed to the bit.
Tighnari raised his hand.
Paused.
Looked at Cyno.
Lowered it.
"…I'm going home," he said instead, choosing peace over violence.
Collei nodded immediately, relief written all over her face. "Yes. Please. Let's go."
Dunyarzad blinked, looking between all of us, still trying to piece together what she had just witnessed. "…Was that normal?"
"No," everyone answered at once.
I stepped forward, placing a hand on Alhaitham's shoulder as if I were comforting a soldier returning from war.
He didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just stared ahead, clearly still processing the last thirty seconds of his life.
"…Alright," I said thoughtfully, giving him a once-over like I was evaluating damage. "You lost some dignity. A little bit of control. Maybe your entire sense of direction."
I gave a small nod.
"But your biceps?" I added, patting his shoulder. "Still majestic. So overall? Net positive."
He blinked once.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"…It worked," he said, like he was discovering a new law of nature.
I grinned immediately.
"Of course it did," I replied, full confidence, zero hesitation. "Who do you think trained you?"
Greg flicked his tail from Lumine's shoulder.
A silent judgment.
A quiet disapproval.
An undeniable truth.
__________
End of Chapter 174
Quests Completed:
*Formed an "elite tactical huddle" that resulted in zero actual planning but maximum confidence.
*Forced Alhaitham into executing a high-risk social maneuver (Kabedon) in a public setting with witnesses.
*Successfully infiltrated a peaceful gathering consisting of Lumine, Nilou, Dehya, Paimon, Collei, and Dunyarzad and immediately destabilized the atmosphere.
*Allowed Cyno to deploy a food-based pun in a critical social moment. Failed to prevent it.
*Witnessed a flawless Kabedon execution followed by an immediate and overwhelming counterattack from Dehya.
*Observed complete cognitive shutdown from Alhaitham after unexpected emotional reversal.
*Maintained full confidence and took credit for success despite losing control of the situation multiple times.
*Survived Lumine's disciplinary strikes while continuing live commentary.
Rewards:
*Adventure EXP +6,000
*25,000 Mora (Compensation for public embarrassment and emotional damage)
*Companionship EXP: +500 (Lumine, Nilou, Paimon, Greg)
*"Kabedon Manual (Highly Questionable Edition)" : (Increases confidence by 70%. Decreases survival rate depending on target.)
*"Reverse Pressure Field" : (When used incorrectly, opponent gains control of the situation immediately.)
*"Biceps Scholar Awakening" : (Momentarily boosts confidence and social boldness. Side effect: system crash when countered.)
*"Fire Mommy Approval (???)" : (Unknown effect. Possibly positive. Possibly dangerous.)
*"Lumine's Bonk Protocol v3.0" : (Instantly silences Shigeru. Cooldown: nonexistent.)
*"Nilou's Soft Support Aura" : (Stabilizes chaotic situations through emotional warmth.)
*"Greg's High Ground Buff" : (Increases judgment accuracy when positioned above allies.)
*"Cyno's Pun: 'On a Roll'" : (Deals emotional damage to allies. Cannot be dodged.)
*+20 (Sumeru Reputation — "Public Romance Incident")
Achievement Unlocked:
"Kabedon Gone Wrong (But Also Right?)"
-Successfully teach a high-risk romantic technique with zero safety precautions. Witness your student execute it flawlessly, only to be immediately outplayed and reversed by the target.