Chapter 82

That night, after meeting up with Akito at the barracks, we were sent back to Japan.

Returning from the other world, we found ourselves at a highway bus terminal in the middle of the night. The ticket gates at the station were already closed, and there were hardly any people around. This time, we were scheduled to spend twenty-one hours in Japan.

I wanted to advance the clock here just a bit. After all, if I didn’t hurry up and resign from the company, I wouldn’t have enough time to properly stock up on supplies. It had only been about twelve hours since I told my boss back in this world that I was quitting. And it had only been four days since my divorce. Even though over a month had passed in Saxens.

If possible, it might be better to spend about a week here. I’ll consult with Lady Clara once I get back.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t reported the divorce to my parents yet. Maybe I should call my family home tomorrow.

Since I was sent back at 4:00 PM Saxens time, I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. We went to a creative Japanese izakaya that stayed open late, recommended by the gourmet Akito.

The first draft beer in a while was delicious! I felt it soaking into every single cell, making my body tremble.

“The other world is fun, but the food is definitely better over here.”

“You can say that again. It’s all about the abundance of ingredients, isn’t it?”

The deep-fried lotus root mochi went perfectly with the alcohol. The Wagyu beef wrapped in sea urchin that Akito ordered looked amazing too. We ordered additional sake and simmered sea bream, and the conversation about food blossomed.

“Next time, you should have someone make about ten servings of sushi and keep them in your Spatial Storage.”

That was a great idea. Inside the Spatial Storage, things didn’t degrade. If I put freshly cooked rice in there, I could pull it out piping hot anytime. Lady Clara might be hesitant about raw fish, but she’d probably love things like tempura.

“I want to order extra maitake mushroom tempura and store it.”

“I’ll take the three-color denpaku (grilled tofu or konjac with miso glaze).”

Specifically, the one with kinome (young leaves of the Japanese pepper tree) miso was the best.

“I’m totally sick of bean soup, after all.”

“That stuff is hell. Though, I haven’t really eaten it lately.”

Living in a hotel, it seemed Akito was exercising his gourmet tendencies even over there.

“There’s good food over there too, but there are definitely limits to the freshness and variety of ingredients. It seems selective breeding hasn’t progressed much either.”

It was a world without refrigerators or developed distribution networks. That couldn’t be helped.

“Since Senpai’s Spatial Storage is used for business, I really want a refrigerator for ourselves.”

The problem was electricity. Carrying solar panels would be a huge pain. Whether it was wind or water power, there was nowhere to set them up. An engine generator would be so loud that the neighbors would complain, and hauling gasoline would be another struggle.

“Wouldn’t a regular cooler box and ice packs be fine? Akito, you can freeze the ice packs yourself, right?”

“Ah! That might actually be enough.”

“I’ve got a cooler box sitting in my car anyway.”

I used it for things like sleeping in the car during outdoor trips.

“From now on, let’s keep cold drinks in the cooler box.”

We finished off the meal with sea bream miso chazuke (rice with tea/broth poured over it) and headed back to our respective homes. I was fully satisfied after enjoying the taste of Japan for the first time in a while.

The next day, I went to work as usual and handled the handover. While there, my boss asked if I could stay until the end of the year. There were only five days left until the final working day. I could resign sooner than I thought, and I found myself almost smirking. The helper from the other department seemed a bit unreliable, but they’d probably manage somehow.

In that fashion, my time in Japan passed in a flurry. I put ice packs into the cooler box I’d taken from the car and added some cakes I’d bought on my way home from work. These were souvenirs for Lady Clara and the others. I bought three for the self-proclaimed “growing girl” Fiene. She’d probably eat them without a second thought. For me, it would give me heartburn. For someone who ate so much, why was she such a tiny shrimp?

When the clock struck 9:00 PM, an alarm rang out, and I was transported to the small room in the gap.

I wondered what today’s skill was.

“That’s a bit of a terrifying skill, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s a devil’s skill.”

I was glad it wasn’t a passive ability. I think life would be difficult if you knew whenever someone was lying. Humans tell lies on a daily basis. Sometimes out of a little vanity, or out of consideration for the other person.

Sometimes people utter words without even realizing they are lying.

Living life while constantly dissecting every little thing someone says would be incredibly stressful.

“Sorry, but could you let me experiment with this for a second? I’ll keep the questions harmless.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Akito agreed with a casual shrug. I had to make sure the questions didn’t infringe on his privacy.

“Please answer ‘Yes’ to everything. Let’s see… Question one: Is your gender male?”

I knew Akito was a man since we’d gone to a public bathhouse together. His internal identity was likely male too. After all, he’d been doing… certain things with Petra.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

For a split second, the world felt like it brightened, and I knew there was no lie in his answer. So that’s how it feels when the answer is the truth. Now, let’s try a question where the correct answer should be “No.”

“Is this room located somewhere in Japan?”

The small room in the gap where we stood was neither Japan nor Saxens.

“Yes.”

This time, the moment Akito answered, my surroundings dimmed for an instant. So this is what a lie feels like.

“Now, I want to know what happens if the person genuinely believes a falsehood to be true.”

For example, crows are generally black. But what happens if you ask someone who mistakenly thinks crows are white, “Are crows white?” Since the respondent perceives them as white, they would answer “Yes.” To them, it’s a correct answer. But generally speaking, that answer is wrong. I wondered what kind of judgment “Judging Truth and Falsehood” would pass then. To test this, I had to ask Akito something he was likely mistaken about.

“Alright, here goes… There are no punctuation marks in the speech bubbles of Shonen Jump manga.”

“Oh, I know the answer to that. It’s ‘Yes,’ right?”

No good. This guy has a broader range of trivia than I do.

“Then, the origin of the Andes melon is—”

“I know that too. It’s not South America; it’s Japan.”

Still no good. This was difficult because I needed to find something he remembered incorrectly, not just something he did or didn’t know. Well, how about this?

“The grooves on either side of a bowling lane are called ‘garters’.”

“…Yes.”

Oh! The world brightened for an instant. However, the term for those grooves is “gutter.” A “garter” is a device used to hold up stockings. Thus, I discovered that if the person believes something to be a fact, the judgment follows their perception.

“That’s a tricky one. It seems useful for interrogations, but if someone believes false information, I might end up being danced around by that misinformation myself.”

That was a fair point. I’d have to be careful when using it.

Though we had been summoned at 9:00 PM Japan time, it was still 1:00 PM over here. Thanks to recovery magic, my physical stamina was fine, but I felt a bit of jet lag and my head was heavy. Lady Clara had just finished lunch, and Fiene was also in the room where we had been summoned.

“Sir Hinoharu! The Saint was here this morning, and it was a total mess.”

It seemed Juliana had visited while I was away. I reflexively glanced at Lady Clara.

“I was at the Royal Guard headquarters, so I didn’t meet her directly. It seems Emma handled the visit.”

Emma, huh? She’s a fan of the Saint, so she probably gave her a tour with a smile on her face. I hoped she hadn’t caused any trouble.

“Sergeant Major Emma took the Saint all over the barracks to show her around. She even showed her the room you use, Sir Hinoharu.”

I felt a chill at Fiene’s explanation and involuntarily shuddered.

“May I go and check something for a moment?”

Forgetting to even hand over the souvenir cakes, I rushed to my bed. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But upon closer inspection, there were signs that things had been tampered with. First, the sheets were perfectly smoothed out, and the blanket was folded straight. I didn’t recall being that meticulous. The Saint had likely made the bed herself. Moreover, that distinct floral perfume was drifting strongly through the air. The first time I noticed this scent was at a murder scene. And the scent didn’t stop at the sheets; it was on my spare shirts and coat too. It wasn’t just a lingering fragrance; it felt as though she had rubbed herself against them to soak the scent into the fabric. Talk about marking her territory…

Furthermore, the laundry I’d planned to wash later in a batch had vanished. Was it stolen? Or did she plan to raise her “favorability” by doing my laundry? …How terrifying. The Saint was genuinely scary.

“Sir Hinoharu, you’ve returned.”

“Waaagh!”

I let out a yell as someone suddenly spoke from behind me.

“W-What’s wrong?!”

“Oh, Emma…”

Seeing my cramped expression, Emma looked back at me with confusion.

“I heard the Saint was here.”

“Yes. She said she wanted to see where soldiers sleep, so I guided her here.”

Emma answered brightly. You truly don’t realize your own sin, do you?

“Do you know what she was doing here?”

“No. I was preparing the payroll ledger for Hans and the cleaners, so I went back to work after bringing her here.”

Then she wouldn’t know what Juliana had been up to.

“Oh, that’s right. The Saint left this for you, Sir Hinoharu.”

Emma handed me a cutely wrapped package. From the scent, I knew it was cookies. I didn’t think they were poisoned, but it felt far too dangerous to casually eat anything sent by that Saint.

“Emma… I actually can’t eat cookies. Would you like to have them instead?”

“Is that alright?”

Emma, who adored the Saint, beamed with joy.

“But this is a present for you, Sir Hinoharu. It wouldn’t be right for me to eat it…”

“Even so, I simply cannot eat them. I think the Saint’s kindness would be better served if you enjoyed them instead of letting them go to waste.”

“Well, if you put it that way… I’d be happy to!”

Thank you, Emma. And I’m sorry. If your stomach starts to hurt later, I’ll give you some of that medicine with the trumpet logo.¹