The dragging was less of a walk and more of a hovering transport. With his arms still pinned under the silk-clad armpits of Maki and Kotori, Agung's feet barely touched the polished hardwood floors of the entrance hall. He caught glimpses of a house that looked like a museum of his own obsession—high-end display cases filled with rare figures, a state-of-the-art gaming rig that put his Jakarta setup to shame, and gold-framed photos of him standing awkwardly next to the six women at various world landmarks.
"Wait! At least let me see the kitchen! I can create a five-star buffet!" Agung pleaded as they reached the second floor.
"You've had three years to eat, Agung," Eli said, her heels clicking with military precision as she led the way. "Right now, you're going to stay put while we decide if we're calling a lawyer, a priest, or a hitman."
They reached a heavy, dark-oak door at the end of the hallway. With a coordinated shove, Maki and Kotori released his arms, sending the slightly chubby 35-year-old stumbling into the center of a massive, king-sized bedroom.
THUD.
The door slammed shut before he could even spin around.
CLICK. CLACK. CLICK.
The sound of multiple locks engaging echoed through the wood.
"Hey! Open up!" Agung yelled, pounding his fist against the door. "I have a quadrillion dollars! I can literally buy this door and have it removed by a construction crew in ten minutes!"
"Then do it!" Nico's muffled voice shouted from the other side. "But the moment you step out of that room without a five-chapter apology, Umi-chan is authorized to use her 'Love Arrow Shoot'—and this time, the arrow is real!"
"And don't even think about using your 'Creation Magic' to teleport out!" Nozomi added, her voice sounding suspiciously like she was placing a spiritual charm on the doorframe. "I've felt your mana, Agung-kun. It's chaotic. If you try to warp, you might end up as a footstool in a dimension where Honoka is the Queen of Bread!"
Agung slumped against the door, sliding down until his rear hit the thick, plush carpet. He looked around the room. It was a master suite, smelling faintly of Maki's expensive rose perfume and Kotori's fabric softener.
On the nightstand sat a framed photo of him—looking significantly thinner and more confident—holding a small child with bright red hair and another with deep blue pigtails.
"Oh no," Agung whispered, his eyes widening. "There are mini-mes. I'm not just a deadbeat husband... I'm a deadbeat dad to a bunch of idol-colored toddlers."
He looked at his hands. The golden glow of Creation Magic flickered at his fingertips. He could create a key. He could create a hole in the wall. He could even create a giant robot to bust him out.
But as he looked at the photo of the children he had apparently "abandoned," a heavy weight settled in his chest—one that didn't come from his 35-year-old metabolism.
"That Operator is a total jerk," Agung muttered, looking at the ceiling. "He didn't give me a second chance. He gave me a final exam I didn't study for."