I set down the pen with a soft clink, the final document signed. The towering stack of paperwork that had haunted my desk all morning was now just another conquered mountain.
"Phew... Such a ridiculous pile just for approving sewer renovations and trade permits." I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. The throne room's stained glass cast kaleidoscopic patterns across the desk—a fleeting distraction from bureaucratic hell.
<
I stared at the empty paper tray. 'Hmm... That would free up at least three afternoons a week.' The thought alone was intoxicating. 'I could finally finish that interdimensional vineyard project.'
<
'No. Why?'
<
I could practically see her smirk. The idea took root instantly—no politics, no responsibilities, just wandering where no one knew my name or title.
The portal's dissolved behind me, revealing an endless expanse of lush greenery—rolling hills blanketed in vibrant grass, ancient trees towering like natural cathedrals. A crisp breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and distant rain.
<
'I know,' I thought, but couldn't suppress a grin at her eagerness. 'Though I appreciate the reminder, Skill-Wise.'
<
In a blink, she'd solidified completely, her arms wrapping around mine with enough force to make ordinary bones crack.
"You work fast," I chuckled, eyeing her new form—a fitted emerald travel cloak over a silver bodysuit, hair now braided for practicality.
Eve's cheeks flushed the color of her holographic petals. "S-Stop bringing that moment up!"
"Wouldn't dream of it," I lied smoothly, patting her hand. "Now, shall we?"
Two hours of leisurely walking brought us to the capital's towering gates.
The guards' armor bore intricate engravings of winged serpents—the kingdom's sigil. Their leader stepped forward.
"Entry toll: five silver marks per person," he announced, eyeing our unusually fine clothing.
I flicked a gold coin from my sleeve. "Keep the change."
The guard's eyes widened as he bit the coin. "By the Crown! You're either nobles or the worst bandits."
"Why not both?" Eve quipped, dragging me through the gates before I could respond.
Eve's boots scuffed against the cobblestones as she let me drag her into a quiet alleyway, her cloak fluttering like distressed bird wings. The distant sounds of the marketplace muffled as I turned to face her.
"Listen," I said, "we don't want trouble. Stop giving guards reasons to actually arrest us."
Her eyes dimmed slightly. "I'm sorry," she murmured, fingers twisting in her braid. "I won't do it again."
The rare vulnerability in her voice made my chest tighten. I tilted her chin up with a hand.
"Besides," I smirked, "he wasn't wrong about you being a bandit."
Eve's pout could've powered a small nation. "Why am I the bandit? I've never stolen anything in my—"
"Never stole anything?" I cut her off, leaning so close our noses almost touched. Then, in a whisper.
"You clearly stole my heart."
Time froze.
A stray sunbeam pierced the alley, turning Eve's hair into a cascade of liquid gold as her pupils dilated. Her lips parted—
CLANG!
A drunk knocked over a barrel of apples nearby. The spell broke.
Eve's face burned brighter than a supernova. "T-That's—! You can't just—!" Her voice cracked. "Cheater! Thief! Human!"
I laughed, catching her wrist as she tried to storm away. "Admit it. You loved it."
"...Shut up."
Her hand stayed intertwined with mine as we stepped back into the sunlight.
Eve's fingers lingered against mine for a heartbeat longer before slipping away as we merged back into the bustling market crowd. The golden afternoon light painted the cobblestones amber, and the scent of roasting chestnuts wrapped around us like a warm blanket.
"Now, onto the next important matter," I said, scanning the maze of streets ahead. "Where do we stay tonight?"
Eve's eyes flickered with holographic blue as she started running calculations. "I could just scan the city for—"
"No powers," I reminded her, tapping her forehead. "We agreed—this is a real vacation. No shortcuts."
She pouted, but it quickly morphed into a mischievous grin. "Fine. Then let's split up. Cover more ground that way."
"Why split up?" I raised an eyebrow. "Half the fun is getting lost together."
"Efficiency," she said, already stepping backward into the crowd, her silver braid catching the sunlight. "Besides, you take forever deciding on pillows."
I scoffed. "Haaa—always about optimization. Fine, I'll humor you. Find the best inn, and tomorrow, we explore properly."
"Deal!" She spun on her heel, calling over her shoulder—"Try not to get scammed by the first tavern keeper you see!"
"Wait—" I suddenly raised my voice as she disappeared around a corner. "If anyone flirts with you, you better warn me so I can erase him!"
A distant laugh floated back. "Jealous~?"
"Thorough!" I shouted back, grinning.
I turned from the skewer stall, chewing lazily on a stick of grilled meat as I surveyed the bustling streets. "Now, let's go hunting for that inn," I muttered to myself, tossing the empty stick nearby .
After asking around, one name kept coming up—The Golden Night.
"Through this alley should be the fastest way," I noted, stepping into the narrow passage where the sunlight barely reached. The scent of spices from the market faded.
Then I saw them.
Five rough-looking men had cornered a small girl against a dead end. Her dress was torn at the shoulder, her wide eyes glistening with terrified tears as she pressed herself against the wall.
"Get away from me!" she screamed, her voice bouncing off the bricks.
One of the thugs, a greasy-haired man with a dagger at his belt, chuckled. "She's gonna fetch a high price, boss."
The leader grinned. "Nowhere to run now, is there?"
"Please... leave me alone..." the girl begged, her voice breaking.
I sighed, stepping forward. The skewer's last bite turned to ash in my mouth. "Child trafficking. That profitable these days?"
The boss turned, his grin widening as he took in my unarmed, well-dressed appearance. "Yeah, it is. We're gonna be rich."
His men snickered, fanning out behind him.
I cracked my knuckles.
"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing."
The boss's face twisted from shock to fury in a heartbeat. "When did you—?!" His shout sent his lackeys scrambling, one clamping a dirty hand over the girl's mouth.
"Oh, you didn't sense me?" I tilted my head, stepping deeper into the alley's shadows. 'Bad luck. I play by different rules.'
The knife came first—a rusty dagger thrust at my head. I leaned left just enough to let it whisper past my ear.
"I suppose there's no diplomatic solution?" I asked.
"Nope," the boss spat, then pivoted into a roundhouse kick aimed at my ribs.
CRACK.
His bone shattered on impact, the sound like a walnut splitting under a hammer. He collapsed, howling.
"GAAAAH! WHAT DID YOU—?!"
"Nothing," I said. "You did that to yourself."
The thug on my left lunged.
I flicked my foot.
His body exploded like a overripe melon, painting the alley walls in a grotesque fresco of gore.
"Oops." I smiled at the remaining three, their faces frozen in horror. "Used a tad too much force there."
The remaining thugs didn't hesitate. Their leader's shattered leg and their comrade's... artistic redistribution across the alley walls were more than enough motivation. With panicked shouts, they scooped up their boss and fled, leaving a trail of blood and whimpers behind them.
I sighed, brushing nonexistent dust off my sleeve. "And here I thought she would be the one causing trouble first."
The girl was still pressed against the wall, her wide eyes locked onto me. She couldn't have been more than ten, her clothes ragged, her dark hair tangled with leaves and dirt. But there was something sharp in her gaze—not just fear, but calculation.
"You're not from around here," she said, voice steadier than I expected.
I crouched to her level, keeping my distance so as not to loom. "What gave it away? The fact that I just turned a man into art?"
She didn't laugh. Instead, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and squared her shoulders. "No one around here helps for free."
"First time for everything," I said. "You got a name?"
"Lira," she muttered. "Not that it matters. No family. No home. Just street rats like them—" She jerked her chin toward where the thugs had fled. "—trying to sell me off."
I studied her for a long moment. The defiance in her posture, the way she held her ground even after what she'd just seen. She reminded me of someone.
"What if I told you," I said slowly, "that you do have a home now?"
Her brows furrowed. "What's the catch?"
I straightened up, looking down at the sharp-eyed girl. "And what makes you think there'd be a catch?"
Her violet eyes—too vivid for an ordinary child—narrowed. "Nobody helps for free."
"You're a smart girl, I'll give you that," I chuckled.
"What can I say?" She shrugged, the motion too practiced for her age. "Two years on the streets teaches you things."
"Hah! It does—but not that much." I knelt again, this time bringing us eye-to-eye. "Tell me, girl... you're an Otherworlder, aren't you?"
Her breath hitched. A microexpression of panic flashed across her face before she schooled it into confusion. "And what makes you say that?"
"Hmm... the flinch. That response. The way you carry yourself." I tilted my head. "You move like someone who's had to relearn their own body."
"You came to that conclusion just from that?" Her voice wavered between disbelief and dread.
"What can I say?" I grinned. "I'm more than meets the eye."
"No, I'm not an 'Otherworlder' or whatever that means," she snapped, but I cut her off with a raised finger.
"No use hiding it. I can see it in your soul."
"See my... soul?" Her puzzlement would've been convincing to anyone else.
"Yes. Ayame Suzuki."
Her real name hit like a thunderclap. She recoiled, color draining from her face. "How did you—?"
"I told you," I said softly. "There's no hiding from me."
The alley seemed to darken around us as she stared, finally understanding she stood before something beyond her world's logic.
Ayame—no, Lira—took a shaky step back, her back pressing against the cold alley wall. The tough facade she'd worn since the moment I met her was crumbling, replaced by raw, vulnerable fear.
"Then... you really can see everything?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
I softened my tone. "Just what matters."
Her small hands clenched into fists at her sides. "If you know I'm from another world... then you know what happened to me. Why am I here."
I nodded. Fragments of her past flickered at the edges of her soul—a bustling city, screeching tires, darkness. The classic isekai special.
"Truck-kun got you too, huh?"
Her eyes widened. "You—?!"
"Different truck, same story." I shrugged. "Though I didn't get the luxury of geting a name."
For the first time, a hint of something like kinship flashed in her gaze. Then, just as quickly, suspicion returned. "What do you want from me?"
"Honestly?" I crouched down again, elbows resting on my knees. "Nothing. But I'm offering you a choice."
I extended my hand, palm up.
"Option one: I walk away right now. You keep living like a ghost in this world, always hiding, always alone."
A muscle in her jaw twitched.
"Option two..." My lips curved into a grin. "You come with me. Learn how to thrive here—not just survive. Get strong enough that no one can ever corner you in an alley again."
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant shouts of market vendors.
Then—
"...What's the training like?"
I let out a laugh. "Brutal. I'll work you to the bone."
She stared at my outstretched hand for one final, agonizing second—before slapping her small, calloused palm against mine.
"Good." Her grin was all teeth. "I'll prove I'm not some helpless kid."
The evening air had grown cool as we approached the inn's warm glow. Lira trotted beside me, her small hand still tucked in mine, when she suddenly piped up:
"Hey... what do I call you? 'Papa'? 'Daddy'? Or just your name?"
I glanced down at her. "I don't have a name. Most call me 'Progenitor,' but you..." I ruffled her hair. "'Papa' works."
She scrunched her nose. "Wait, how do you not have a name? And why 'Progenitor'? That's like... a title or something."
"No one's is able to name me," I said simply. "As for the rest... that's a story for another time."
The warm glow of the inn's lanterns illuminated Eve's silhouette as she stood waiting by the entrance. She perked up as we approached, waving enthusiastically.
"Hey Master!"
"Hello Eve," I chuckled, stepping onto the creaky wooden porch. "Guess we both picked the same inn. Typical."
Her eyes immediately locked onto the small figure half-hidden behind my coat. "And... what's up with the kid?" she asked, tilting her head.
With a dramatic flourish, I nudged Lira forward. "Meet our daughter."
Lira peeked out from behind me, her violet eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "Um... hello. My name is Lira. Nice to meet you, Miss," she mumbled, fingers twisting in the frayed hem of her tunic.
For a single, perfect second, Eve froze.
Then—
"OUR DAUGHTER?!" Her shriek sent a nearby flock of birds scattering into the twilight.
"Oh my! You're real! And tiny! And—" She leaned in suspiciously. "—why do you smell like alleyway and bad decisions?"
Lira blinked. "I... what?"
"She's been living on the streets," I explained, watching Eve's face cycle through approximately twelve emotions per second.
"UNACCEPTABLE!" Eve's hands flew up as holographic shopping lists and bath schematics materialized around her in a frantic whirl. "Priority one: Bath. Priority two: Clothes. Priority three—"
"Eve," I interrupted, barely suppressing a laugh. "Let the poor girl breathe first."
Lira stared between us, her initial shyness giving way to something softer. "You're... really okay with this?"
Eve's energy dimmed to a gentle glow. Slowly, she reached out and booped Lira's nose.
"Kiddo, I just upgraded from 'all-knowing skill' to 'mom' in 0.2 seconds. This is the best system update ever."
Lira's tentative smile was worth a thousand battles.
The innkeeper nearly dropped his ledger when the three of us approached the counter. His eyes darted from my unremarkable-but-clearly-expensive attire, to Lira—who was currently attempting to scrape something questionable off her boot onto his clean floors.
"The finest room you have," I said, sliding a gold coin across the counter. T
he man swallowed hard. "O-Of course, my lord! The Suite is our most—"
"Perfect." I plucked the key from his trembling fingers before he could finish. "Send up hot water for a bath. And dinner. Lots of dinner."
Eve leaned over the counter, her eyes flashing dangerously. "And if anyone breathes near our room, I'll repurpose their bones into furniture."
The innkeeper turned pale. "...Understood."
Lira froze in the doorway, her worn-out shoes sinking into the plush carpet. The room was obscenely lavish—a four-poster bed draped in silks, a sitting area with velvet couches, and a balcony overlooking the city's glowing skyline.
"...This is a joke, right?" she whispered.
Eve floated past her, already summoning a battalion of soap bars and towels from subspace. "Nope! Welcome to your new minimum standard of living."
Lira inched forward, poking one of the embroidered pillows like it might bite. "I've slept on roofs."
"And now you'll sleep on a mattress stuffed with angel feathers or whatever ridiculous luxury this is," I said, collapsing onto the couch. "Try not to have an existential crisis about it."
The Bath Incident
Eve's idea of "helping" Lira bathe involved:
Temperature Debates: "It's lava!" "It's barely warm!"
Soap Overload: The tub disappeared under a mountain of suds
An Identity Crisis: "Why does this smell like wealth?!"
From the other room, I listened to the chaos with a grin.
"PAPA!" Lira's voice echoed over the splashing. "EVE'S TRYING TO SCRUB MY SKIN OFF!"
"CORRECTION," Eve shot back. "I'm exfoliating years of trauma!"
Dinner
The inn's staff brought enough food to feed a small army—roasted meats, steaming bread, and a suspiciously perfect slice of cake that Lira eyed like a tactical objective.
She devoured three servings before pausing. "...This is a test, isn't it? You're gonna take it all away to 'teach me a lesson'."
Eve looked genuinely offended. "What kind of monster do you think we—"
"No tests," I interrupted, pushing the cake toward her. "Eat until you're sick. We'll order more."
Lira's eyes gleamed. "...Cool."
First Night
Tucking Lira into the comically oversized bed, Eve fussed with the blankets while I pretended not to notice the girl's death grip on the sheets.
"I'm not a baby," Lira grumbled, even as her eyelids drooped.
"Obviously," Eve said, tucking a stuffed dragon (summoned from who-knows-where) beside her. "Babies can't wield daggers. Yet."
From the doorway, I watched Lira finally surrender to sleep—her face peaceful for the first time since we'd met.
Eve floated over, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "...We're keeping her, right?"
I smirked. "Oh, she's absolutely stuck with us now."
Morning light streamed through the suite's glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the remains of last night's feast. Lira sat cross-legged on the velvet chair, nibbling a pastry while eyeing me with newfound suspicion.
"So... um." She wiped jam from her chin. "Who are you, Papa? What do you actually do to afford..." She gestured vaguely at the gilded ceiling. "...this?"
Eve, currently braiding Lira's hair with holographic precision, didn't look up. "Oh, he's just the King of Eden."
Crack.
Lira's pastry hit the porcelain plate. She stared blankly ahead for five full seconds before whipping her head around—nearly yanking her half-finished braid from Eve's grasp.
"Wait. You're the KING of EDEN?" Her voice cracked. "I've never even heard of Eden! Where is that?"
I sipped my tea, amused. "You're quite knowledgeable for someone who lived on the streets."
"What can I say?" She crossed her arms, regaining some composure. "I liked to read back when I had a home. Now stop dodging the question!"
"Haa... You'll see for yourself when we go there in two days." I set down my cup. "I'm still on vacation."
Lira's nose scrunched. "Wait, kings get vacations?"
"Most kings on this continent don't do 1% of my workload," I scoffed. "I earn my disappearances."
Her eyes widened. "Wait—there are other continents?"
Eve's hands flickered as she summoned a holographic globe above the breakfast table. "Four total. We occupy the smallest but most advanced one—thanks to someone." She shot me a smirk.
I leaned back, lacing my fingers behind my head. "That 'someone' being me, if I may boast."
Lira stared at the rotating projection, her pastry forgotten. "...I think I adopted the wrong dad."
"Too late," Eve sang, finally finishing the braid with a triumphant flourish. "Resistance is futile!"
Lira tapped her fingers against the hotel suite's marble breakfast table, steam from her hot chocolate curling in the morning light. "Okay, so... what's this Eden place actually like? Give me the real details."
I scrolled through my smartphone - a deliberately limited model by Eden's standards - before sliding it across to her. "Think... Singapore meets Norway with better healthcare. Here, browse the tourism site."
Eve leaned over Lira's shoulder as she gaped at the screen. "Population: 48.7 million," Eve recited. "All living in sustainable cities surrounded by protected wilderness. Zero slums, zero homelessness."
"Wait, zero?" Lira's brow furrowed. "How's that even possible with regular technology?"
"Brutal efficiency," I said, stealing a slice of her toast. "We don't have magic or supertech - just really good governance. Universal basic income, mandatory education through university, and a judicial system that actually reforms people."
The images showed sleek metro trains gliding between vertical gardens, public plazas filled with art installations, and spotless streets where maintenance drones the size of housecats whirred about their business.
Eve swiped to a new image. "This is our capital, Elysium . All buildings are earthquake-proof and energy positive. The air's cleaner than a Swiss mountaintop."
Lira zoomed in on a street scene where diverse citizens - some in businesswear, others in casual clothes - shared a sidewalk without apparent class distinctions. "This looks... impossible."
"It's what happens," I said, pouring more tea, "when you eliminate corruption and make policy decisions based on data rather than ideology. Also helps that I've been dictator for 1500years."
"You're not a dictator!" Eve protested.
I raised an eyebrow. "I can veto any law, appoint all high judges, and dissolved parliament three times."
"...Okay, fine," Eve conceded. "A benevolent dictator with 100% approval ratings."
Lira was still staring at the phone. "And I'd... live here?" Her voice caught slightly on the last word.
"In the academy compound," I confirmed. "Which before you ask, is just a very nice guarded neighborhood, not some gilded palace. Even I only have a 10-bedroom house."
Eve grinned. "With a private library containing every book ever published on this world. Including," she added with a wink, "the banned ones."
Lira's fingers tightened around the phone. For the first time since we'd met, she looked like she might actually cry. "When... when do we leave?"