The atmosphere in the grand living room was thick with a tension that could have snapped a steel cable. Maki was pacing like a caged tigress, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her medical coat. Umi sat perfectly upright, eyes closed, likely mentally rehearsing the most efficient way to dismantle a human skeleton. Nico was aggressively scrolling through her phone, though her screen was a blur of unread notifications.
When Eli descended the stairs, the room went dead silent. She wasn't carrying a weapon. She was carrying a stack of parchment and a single, magically-wrought gold charm.
"He gave me this," Eli said, her voice steady but her eyes searching. She laid the papers on the mahogany coffee table. "He says he's an otaku from Pekalongan. He says he died today. He says he's a 35-year-old man who just wanted to see us start our journey in 2013, but the 'Operator' dropped him here instead."
Nico snorted, though her hand trembled.
"Pekalongan? 2013? What is this, a light novel plot? He's clearly spent his three years away watching too much isekai trash."
"Read it," Eli commanded, sliding the first few pages toward Maki. "Look at the handwriting. Look at the way he describes his father. And look at the drawings."
Maki snatched the paper with a scowl, but as her eyes scanned the messy, frantic script, her expression faltered. She saw the descriptions of a lonely life—the specific brand of Indonesian instant noodles he lived on, the way he felt like a ghost in his own city, and the crushing guilt of realizing he was now the "absent father" he had spent his life hating.
"This..." Maki whispered, her purple eyes widening. "The medical terminology he uses to describe his 'death' by the truck... it's too specific. And the heart rate he describes... it matches the panic attack he's having right now."
Nozomi leaned over, placing a hand on the parchment. Her eyes closed, and a faint purple aura shimmered around her fingertips. Her breath hitched.
"The mana on this paper... it doesn't match the Agung we knew," Nozomi whispered, her voice laced with awe and a hint of grief. "Our Agung's soul was like a steady flame—reliable, but flickering. This soul... it's like a supernova contained in a cardboard box. It's chaotic, terrified, and... it's completely new."
Umi opened her eyes. "Are you saying the man upstairs is truly a stranger?"
"He's an Agung Wibowo," Eli clarified, looking at the blue bird charm. "Just not our Agung Wibowo. He's a man who has all the power in the world but is currently terrified that Maki is going to poke him with a needle."
Down the table, Honoka, Hanayo, and Rin—who had been hovering near the doorway—sneaked a look at the drawings.
"Wait, look at this!" Rin pointed to a sketch of the nine of them in their 2013 training gear.
"He drew us from the Otonokizaka rooftop. But look at the details... he drew the exact smudge on the floor that I made when I tripped! No one remembers that except us!"
"He says he's followed our story for Sixteen years," Eli added. "To him, we aren't just wives. We are the legends that kept him going when his real life was empty."
Maki stood up abruptly, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. "So what? We're supposed to just accept this 'New Agung'? What about the children? What about the three years of silence?"
"He told me," Eli said softly, "that he'll let you punch him, kick him, or use him as a footstool. He just begged... specifically... for 'no needles or arrows'."
Umi stood up, her face grim. "He wants to take the punishment for a man he isn't? Very well. If he wants to claim our Agung's life, he has to endure our Agung's consequences."
She headed for the stairs, but Maki grabbed her medical bag and followed close behind. Kotori stood up too, her eyes misty. "If he really is a fan... then he knows how much we've missed having someone to look after."
The door to the bedroom suddenly unlocks with a heavy CLICK.
Agung looks up from the floor, his heart jumping into his throat. Standing in the doorway is the full "Execution Squad," led by a very determined-looking Umi and a Maki who is currently snapping on a pair of latex gloves.
"So," Maki says, her voice cold but her hand slightly shaking. "You're a 'fan' from another dimension? Fine. Prove it. If you survive the next hour, we might consider not calling the police."