Agung's voice went up two octaves as he clutched his black card like a holy talisman. He looked at the six women—the idols he had spent twenty-four years admiring from behind a screen—and realized that in 4K reality, their "moe" charms had been replaced by the terrifying aura of betrayed spouses.
"Can I... can I say no?" Agung squeaked, his knees shaking. "Because I really feel like if I step into a car with you six, I'm not heading to a 'home.' I'm heading to a shallow grave in the Aokigahara forest. I can feel the executioner's axe hovering over my neck!"
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Rin wheezing with laughter from the cafe.
"He said 'no'!" Honoka shouted, slapping the table. "Bold! I give him ten points for courage, but zero points for survival instincts!"
Umi took a single step forward. The air pressure around her seemed to drop. "No?" she repeated, her voice a low, dangerous vibration. "You think this is a negotiation, Agung? You disappeared for 1,095 days. You left us with a mountain of questions and a void in this 'home' you helped build. And now you're asking for a 'no'?"
Eli adjusted her blazer, her gaze piercing right through his "Creation Magic" facade.
"Agung, you have a quadrillion dollars. You could build a golden palace. You could buy an army. But look at us." She gestured to the group. "Do we look like women who can be bought? Or do we look like the women who spent three years wondering if their husband was dead in a ditch or just tired of them?"
"I'm telling you, I just got here via Truck-kun!" Agung wailed, sweating through his jacket. "I don't even know where the 'home' is! I don't know who the cat is! I don't even know if we have kids! Please, I have infinite money! I'll buy you each a skyscraper! Just... let me go back to the shrine and wait for the Operator to fix this!"
Nozomi stepped behind him, her shadow falling over his slightly chubby frame like a dark omen. She placed a hand on his shoulder—it felt like a lead weight.
"The 'Operator' isn't coming, Agung-kun," Nozomi whispered into his ear, her voice thick with a mix of spiritual authority and sheer mischief. "The cards say your destiny is tied to ours. And my intuition says... if you try to run now, Umi-chan won't use a bow. She'll use her bare hands."
Nico crossed her arms, a smug, vengeful grin appearing. "Besides, if you're a 'Creation God' now, you can just 'create' a way to survive our wrath, right? It'll be like a live-streamed survival horror game! Except the 'game over' screen is real."
Kotori, who had been the quietest, finally looked up. Her eyes were watery, but there was a strange, firm glint in them. She reached out and took his hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Agung-san... if you really are a different Agung, then you'll have to learn to love us all over again," Kotori said softly, before her expression hardened. "Starting with the three-year backlog of chores and the 1,000-page apology letter Maki-chan drafted."
"1,000 pages?!" Agung gasped.
"Double-sided. Size 10 font," Maki snapped, pointing toward a parked luxury SUV. "Get in the car. Now."
Agung looked at the SUV. It looked like a worst decision to him. He looked at his black card. He looked at the sky, hoping Truck-kun would come back and finish the job.
"Fine," Agung whimpered, hanging his head as he was marched toward the vehicle. "But for the record... I'm calling this 'The Quadrillion Dollar Death Sentence'!"