"Has Elsa awakened?" Ayanokoji's eyes narrowed slightly.
The assassin had been encased in solid ice by Emilia. While her regenerative traits would prevent her from freezing to death, it should have taken significant time for the ice to thaw and for her consciousness to stabilize.
"How long ago?" he asked. There were variables he needed to verify—questions that were too sensitive to ask in the cramped, shared space of the dragon carriage.
"Approximately an hour and a half ago," Ram replied flatly.
"Were you or Rem guarding the cellar during that time?" Ayanokoji looked at the twins, his expression pensive.
"No. We have been occupied with breakfast preparations and morning chores," they replied in chillingly perfect unison.
Ayanokoji's mind raced. There were only two maids in this massive estate. If they were busy in the kitchen and the wings, how did they know the exact moment a prisoner in the deep sub-level opened her eyes? In a world without digital sensors, the answer was singular: Magical Surveillance.
What is the range? What are the blind spots? Does it track movement or intent? He assumed his own room was under constant observation. Even when alone, he maintained his "Ordinary Student" mask. He knew Roswaal's "hospitality" was merely a velvet glove over an iron fist of suspicion. Emilia was simple and trusting; Roswaal was a shark. To the Margrave, Ayanokoji was currently a "Potential Asset" or a "Potential Spy."
"Master Roswaal instructed us to inform you the moment the prisoner stirred," Ram said. "Given her lethality, Rem and I will accompany you."
"Lead the way," Ayanokoji nodded. He didn't need further proof—these weren't just maids; they were Roswaal's enforcers.
The group descended into the damp chill of the cellar. Elsa was a web of heavy iron chains, her limbs pinned at angles that made movement impossible. Ayanokoji stood before her, but his peripheral vision never left the twins. They stood five meters back, flanking him.
They aren't here to protect me, he realized. They're here to see how I interact with her. To see if there's a pre-existing connection.
Elsa tilted her head, a manic smile tugging at her lips. "How heartless... treating a defenseless woman like this."
"Even restrained, you are a lethal variable," Ayanokoji replied. His voice was a flatline, devoid of the fear or disgust a normal person would feel toward a serial killer.
"I only wanted to see the half-elf's clockwork," Elsa purred, her eyes dropping to Ayanokoji's midsection. "But now... I'm much more curious about yours. What is your name, boy?" She ran her tongue slowly over her lower lip.
Elsa was a predator who lived by instinct. She could scent fear, lust, and hesitation. But looking at Ayanokoji was like staring into a vacuum. There was no emotional "leakage." He was a hollow vessel of pure logic.
"I can't satisfy that curiosity for now," Ayanokoji said. "And for your information, we've placed hidden traps beyond your line of sight. Don't bother trying to escape."
"So, why are you here? Looking for a late-night chat?~"
"I'm here to discuss your organization," Ayanokoji stated. "When they realize you've failed, will they send a clean-up crew? Or a second wave?"
"No comment~" Elsa's smile turned taunting.
"What is your operational structure? Do you always work solo?"
"No... comment~" Elsa watched him closely, waiting for a flicker of frustration.
She found none. Ayanokoji's expression was static. He pivoted the topic 180 degrees.
"Why the obsession with bowels?"
The sudden shift caught her off guard, piquing her interest. "Oh, they're fascinating... so warm, so soft..." She began a morbid, poetic rambling about her fixation. Behind Ayanokoji, the twins' brows furrowed in visible disgust.
Ayanokoji, however, was performing a Psychological Profile.Extreme fixation. Regression to a primitive, sensory obsession. Likely a trauma-induced personality split. To others, she was a monster. To him, she was a predictable machine. Machines have buttons. If he could find the right "input"—perhaps providing her "prey" or a higher purpose—he could potentially turn this tiger into a hound.
If he could recruit Elsa, he would gain a Tier-1 combatant and a direct line of intelligence on the guild. But with the "Watchers" (Rem and Ram) behind him, he couldn't make a move yet. If he tried to flip her now, Roswaal would execute them both as co-conspirators.
He decided to break her mental guard.
"By the way," Ayanokoji said, his voice dropping an octave. "We've already captured your partner."
"Hm?" For a fraction of a second, Elsa's eyes widened. A microscopic tremor of panic.
Ayanokoji caught it instantly. Confirmed. She wasn't alone. And the partner matters to her.
"He has already told us everything," he lied.
Elsa's panic vanished, replaced by a knowing smirk. "Lying is a sin, especially such a clumsy one."
Ayanokoji narrowed his eyes. She knew it was a lie instantly. Why? He reviewed his words. 'He.'
"So, it's a 'she' then?" Ayanokoji asked.
Elsa's face went rigid. The smile didn't reach her eyes anymore.
Checkmate. Ayanokoji had used the "Wrong Gender Trap." By stating the partner was male, he forced her brain to instinctively compare his statement to the truth. Her sudden relief at his "mistake" confirmed the partner's existence, and her subsequent shutdown confirmed the partner's gender.
He was like a scalpel, peeling back the layers of her mind while she was still conscious of the intrusion.
At Hyakkaou Private Academy...
Suzui Ryouta watched the screen, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. "He's terrifying... he's playing a game of 'Guess Who' with a killer's life and winning every round."
Beside him, Jabami Yumeko's face was flushed, her eyes glowing with a dark, euphoric light. "Oh, I would give anything to sit across a gambling table from him! To have him read my soul like that... it would be absolutely exhilarating!"