"Beatrice, I'm going to ask you something very important. Think it over seriously before you answer."
"No."
"Since you're fine, then get out immediately."
"Betty has no patience left to listen to your nagging."
Beatrice pointed toward the door, speaking without a shred of mercy.
Even though everything about Gojo Satoru was incredibly strange, Beatrice simply had no interest in such matters. Compared to this, continuing her agonizingly long wait within the Forbidden Library was the only future that belonged to her.
"Whether I leave or not isn't important right now."
Gojo reached out and grabbed Beatrice, looking at her with a serious expression.
"When I first arrived at the Forbidden Library, did I have the scent of the Witch on me?"
"Betty already told you, don't come to me with these things. Betty doesn't want to hear it..."
Beatrice spoke with irritation. But as she continued, she clearly noticed something was off, and her speaking speed naturally slowed down. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed involuntarily.
"Strange."
Beatrice stared at the Gojo Satoru in front of her, her expression filled with doubt.
"When you first entered the Forbidden Library, you indeed did not have the Witch's scent on you."
"Then the scent on you now..."
To say he had come into contact with someone from the Witch Cult was complete nonsense. From the moment he entered, he had been right in front of her; it was impossible for him to have interacted with anyone from the Cult.
As for whether he was a Cult member hiding his aura—that was even more impossible.
She was a sensitive Spirit, not a dull human. Others might not be sharp enough to distinguish between the Witch Cult and ordinary people, but it was impossible to hide it from her—especially a scent this thick. Even if one tried to hide it, there would inevitably be a flaw.
But if that wasn't the case, then where did the scent on this guy come from? Who could bypass the Forbidden Library and her perception so completely without being noticed?
In Gojo Satoru's mind, an idea was already starting to take shape.
"Do you remember the question I asked you before?"
"You said you experienced..."
Before Beatrice could finish, Gojo covered her mouth.
"This is the price of speaking it aloud."
Gojo pointed to his own chest.
"If I didn't have a few tricks up my sleeve, I'd probably be dead by now."
"If magic can't achieve it, then what about other powers? For example, like you just said, the scent on my body..."
Hearing Gojo's words, Beatrice's pupils contracted slightly. However, she didn't lash out or contradict him as she had before. She fell silent, thinking for a moment, then stood up to search through the bookshelves.
Gojo didn't say a word, simply following behind her.
After a short while, Beatrice stopped in front of a shelf. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach a book near the top. Gojo reached out and casually pulled it down for her.
He caught a glimpse of it as he did—the book had no title. Moreover, the edges were loose, with pages covered in dense handwriting sticking out haphazardly, looking like an unorganized notebook.
Beatrice took the book and began flipping through it with a frown.
"What kind of book is this?"
Gojo leaned down, whispering into Beatrice's ear.
Beatrice pushed him away expressionlessly. "Mother's research manual on Witch Factors."
The Witch of Greed, huh?
Never mind then.
According to Gojo's understanding, the Witch of Greed was basically the equivalent of a mad scientist. As one of the Witches, her greatest interest was an endless thirst for knowledge. While satisfying her own desires, she had researched and created many things—much like the magical artifacts known as "Metia" today. A portion of them were creations of the Witch of Greed, Echidna.
Beatrice spent a long time poring over the manual. Gojo tactfully refrained from disturbing her, simply watching as she flipped through the notebook from beginning to end.
Yet, she still found nothing that could explain what was happening to this man.
Beatrice closed the manual and stared at Gojo with a scrutinizing gaze.
"What is your name?"
"Gojo Satoru."
"According to what you said, this isn't the first time you've known me?"
"Exactly."
Gojo sat down on the floor and nodded.
"Then, what is the relationship between the two of us?"
Gojo thought for a moment, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. "Naturally, it's as good as it can possibly be."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be drinking tea from your cup, would I?"
Beatrice listened quietly, her face devoid of expression. Only her clear eyes moved slightly as she gave an extremely cold nod.
"The thickness of human skin is truly appalling, especially in your case."
Beatrice sneered, instantly understanding the true nature of this guy's relationship with her. As for sharing a tea cup? There were very few people in this world she would allow that with. He was clearly lying through his teeth.
Especially since the name "Gojo Satoru" didn't appear anywhere in that book, it seemed even more impossible to Beatrice.
"I think the current issue isn't that, is it?"
Gojo, having been seen through, didn't feel embarrassed at all and spoke with a laugh.
Beatrice tossed the book onto the table, too lazy to put it back in its place, and settled comfortably into her chair.
"Regarding what you first asked me."
"My answer remains the same: magic cannot achieve it."
"But if things are truly as you say, then I cannot give you a definitive answer either."
"Witch Factors have different effects on different people—a thousand faces for a thousand people. No one knows if something like what happened to you is possible."
Gojo thought it over. "In other words, the thing that tried to kill me earlier was definitely related to a Witch, right?"
"From the aura on your body, it would seem so."
"But I've never had contact with the Witch Cult, nor have I met anyone with this kind of scent."
"Who knows," Beatrice said casually. She picked up the teapot to pour herself some tea, but stopped when she saw the cup and said irritably, "Fine."
"You have completely exhausted the last of my patience."
"Get out now. I don't want to see you anymore."
Gojo shrugged. "You really know how to leave a guy hanging."
"In that case, I'll come see you again tomorrow."
"Betty never agreed to let you come over."
"You know, you said the same thing last time, and as it turns out..."
Gojo spoke with a beaming smile, though he looked somewhat irritatingly smug.
Compared to the previous matters regarding Roswaal, the issues currently affecting himself and Natsuki Subaru were what truly deserved attention and study.
The next day.
Gojo didn't sleep in; he woke up early. When there was nothing to do, sleeping in or killing time was fine, but right now, that was absolutely not an option.
After a quick wash, Gojo made his way toward the dining room along the familiar path, ready for breakfast.
The blue-haired maid, Rem, was already busy in the dining room. Her sister, Ram, was nowhere to be seen.
"Good morning, Miss Rem."
Gojo gave a greeting and took his seat. Just as he was about to start eating, he caught a strange sight out of the corner of his eye.
The moment he arrived, Rem's movements seemed to become stiff and sluggish, as if something had happened.
Just as Gojo was wondering why, Rem turned her head. In those clear eyes, a well-hidden flash of loathing was clearly imprinted in Gojo's vision.
That look.
Gojo had seen it clearly yesterday. However, at that time, it wasn't directed at him at all—it was only aimed at Natsuki Subaru. But now...
"Miss Rem, there's something I find very strange."
"Please speak, guest."
Rem's voice was calm, without a hint of a ripple, and the loathing in her eyes was no longer visible. Regardless of how much she felt, her professionalism as a maid did not falter.
"Why do you suddenly seem to dislike me so much? It's quite hurtful, really."
If there was something he didn't understand, he would simply ask the person who knew. Gojo Satoru was not one to bottle things up.
"The guest is overthinking. You are the savior of Lady Emilia and a distinguished guest of Lord Roswaal..."
"Miss Rem, I would like you to answer me seriously," Gojo said, his smile fading as he spoke earnestly.
"I noticed it yesterday, but at that time, you were mostly targeting Subaru."
"But now, it seems I've been dragged into it as well. Did I do something wrong?"
Meeting his gaze, Rem's expression remained cold as she stayed silent. For a moment, the atmosphere in the dining room felt oppressive.
Just then, the older sister, Ram, entered the room. As soon as she walked in, she sensed the tension.
"Guest, are you dissatisfied with the breakfast?"
Ram stepped forward, shielding Rem behind her as she questioned Gojo.
"I'm not dissatisfied at all. I'm just curious about something and wanted to ask."
Gojo shook his head and repeated his previous statement.
Hearing this, Ram turned to look at Rem behind her, then back at Gojo. Given Rem's personality, it was impossible for her to expose her dissatisfaction so directly to someone she was meeting for the first time—especially one of Roswaal's guests. This was not normal.
Ram frowned. After a brief thought and based on her knowledge of her sister, she surmised the reason.
"Is it because of the scent?"
Ram looked at Rem and spoke softly. Rem didn't say anything, but in a way, her silence was an admission.
Having cleared that up, Ram looked at Gojo with an apologetic expression.
"Our apologies, guest. We have caused you an unpleasant experience. Please forgive us."
Normally, joking with guests or complaining a bit wouldn't matter, but clearly, this was not one of those times; it required serious handling.
Ram pulled Rem along to bow in apology to Gojo, explaining, "Rem is quite sensitive to the scent of the Witch Cult, so..."
The scent of the Witch?
Hearing this, a look of realization flashed in Gojo's eyes.
So that was it. That made sense. After all, because of that hand in the Forbidden Library yesterday, his body had been tainted with a very heavy scent of the Witch—something that had already been verified by Beatrice.
But...
Yesterday, he had been attacked by that black hand and nearly died. He had only survived by using the Reversed Cursed Technique to restore his crushed heart.
But what about Natsuki Subaru?
Clearly, both of them had simply slept through the night; he shouldn't have experienced anything. Could it be that something had happened to him as well, and he just didn't know it?
"Yesterday, did Subaru already have a very thick scent of the Witch on him?"
"Please, tell me. This is very important."
Seeing Gojo's serious expression, Ram also looked at Rem. Under their gaze, Rem didn't speak, but silently nodded.
Seeing this, Gojo fell into deep thought.
What was going on? He couldn't wrap his head around it. It was all so inexplicable and sudden.
Well, whatever. Let's eat first.
Gojo looked at the lavish breakfast on the table and couldn't be bothered to think anymore. He planned to have a good talk with Natsuki Subaru later and then take him to see Beatrice. When it came to Witches, he really didn't know much.
"I understand."
Gojo waved his hand, indicating it was fine.
"Don't worry too much about it. I really don't have anything to do with the Witch."
"Of course, it's normal if you don't believe me. I'm currently troubled by this whole thing myself."
As Gojo spoke, he didn't forget to grab some breakfast. While he was eating, Natsuki Subaru arrived in the dining room with a yawn.
"Morning, Satoru. And Miss Rem, Miss Ram."
The moment Subaru sat down, Gojo urged him, "Eat quickly. I have something very important to tell you in a bit."
"What's up?"
Subaru was still a bit dazed, rubbing his eyes as if he hadn't fully woken up.
"Just eat."
Subaru didn't understand, but he nodded and began to eat seriously. The two finished quickly, and then Subaru was called up to Gojo's room.
"So what exactly is happening, Satoru? Why are you being so mysterious?"
"Did you forget what happened yesterday?"
Gojo sat backward on his chair, arms propped on the backrest, as he spoke to Subaru.
"I haven't!"
At the mention of "yesterday," Subaru instantly snapped to attention.
"What is it? Did you discover something?"
The idea of time rewinding and everything starting over was truly terrifying. If it were controllable, it would be fine—it would be a powerful ability.