It was as if the world had suddenly hit the pause button. Lin Ge, now entirely embodying the capitalized word “PANIC”, froze on the spot.

What should he do? If he pretended not to see his colleagues, would that blow his cover?

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro might go along with it, but Tsurumaru Kuninaga? That guy would definitely refuse to cooperate! Not only that, he might even conjure up a bunch of frogs, birds, or cockroaches with spiritual energy just to mess with him. Then, with feigned innocence, he’d probably say, “Master, won’t you say something?” What would Little Cake think of him then?

Lin Ge’s eyes darted around in disarray, likely spinning excuses at full throttle. Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru’s gaze swept casually over the two extravagantly dressed strangers.

No cursed energy.

From Lin Ge’s earlier reaction, it was clear that ordinary people shouldn’t be able to see these two.

Interesting.

They weren’t curses, yet they had characteristics invisible to normal humans. The energy they exuded was pure, an extreme contrast to cursed energy—as if one leaned to the far left and the other to the far right.

The golden-haired man seemed to defer subtly to Lin Ge. His hand hovered cautiously over the hilt of his sword, his posture ready for battle. The white-haired one, on the other hand, was the exact opposite—completely indifferent, even exuding a faint air of schadenfreude.

So many secrets, Gojo Satoru thought, leaning forward with an amused smile. His mood brightened as he repeated the question, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Have you figured out how to explain this yet?

Lin Ge: “Uh… well…”

Lin Ge broke out in a cold sweat.

Why was Gojo Satoru leaning so close?! This proximity was throwing his thoughts into chaos!

Nervously holding his breath, Lin Ge no longer cared about how good Little Cake smelled—his mental CPU was overheating, teetering on the brink of a meltdown as he hesitated between playing dumb and confessing everything.

Option A: Play Dumb.

This came with a high probability of being exposed by his white-haired colleague. Little Cake’s favorability might drop rapidly—minus 1, minus 1, minus 1… On the other hand, maybe Tsurumaru Kuninaga would just have a laugh and let him off the hook.

Option B: Confess.

This required starting from the dawn of time and would involve violating confidentiality agreements with the Government of the Time. He’d also need to embellish things here and there, but given his poor storytelling skills, the explanation might spiral out of control into the unknown.

Both options were terrible.

Lin Ge looked like he was on the verge of tears.

No matter what he chose, it felt like he was going to lose Little Cake’s favor forever!

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro: “…”

He glanced at Tsurumaru Kuninaga, who was leaning against the wall and clearly enjoying the show. Then he looked at Lin Ge, who was so nervous that his body had gone rigid.

After a moment of contemplation, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro made a decision that defied his instincts.

In the next second, he stepped back, grabbed Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s sleeve, and, ignoring the latter’s look of surprise and resistance, triggered a burst of golden light.

The two of them disappeared on the spot.

Lin Ge let out a massive sigh of relief, the tension in his stiff back finally easing.

Thank goodness for reliable golden-haired angels!

Saved from disaster!

With the troublemaker Tsurumaru Kuninaga gone, Lin Ge no longer trembled in fear. His mind steadied, and he pressed hard on Option A, declaring, “What are you talking about?”

Scratching his earlobe in fake confusion, he avoided Gojo Satoru’s gaze.

Wait, why was he acting so guilty?!

Wasn’t this just making things even more suspicious?!

Get it together, get it together!

Lin Ge lifted his head, trying to look as natural as possible.

Yes, widen your eyes. That makes you look sincere.

O.O

Gojo Satoru: “…”

Big eyes.

Such a painfully bad performance.

After a brief pause, he chuckled softly and said, “Nothing, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Then, turning around, he added, “Let’s go. Megumi and the others are waiting by the door.”

After they left, figures slowly reappeared against the pale walls. Yamanbagiri Kunihiro let out a long breath, a strange feeling rising in his chest.

But he didn’t dislike it.

Had he just helped the Sage?

Leaning against the wall, Tsurumaru Kuninaga pursed his lips downward, his expression one of pure discontent. His entire being screamed, I am NOT amused.

“Yamanbagiri, your idea of a surprise is not fun at all,” he grumbled.

What a letdown. He could’ve enjoyed watching the Sage squirm.

Pulling his hood back over his head, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro ignored the complaint and instead slightly smirked—a rare expression.

Despite Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s superior spiritual energy, he hadn’t resisted when Yamanbagiri grabbed him.

Watching the smirk, Tsurumaru Kuninaga shivered involuntarily, a sudden itch crawling across his skin.

“What’s with that expression?” he demanded, straightening up.

It looked like something out of a story where the protagonist discovers the villain’s tragic redemption arc.

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro tilted his head in confusion. “I’m smiling.”

Tsurumaru Kuninaga: “…”

No, that wasn’t the point.

After a long pause, he sighed. “So, what now?”

If he remembered correctly, they were here to bring the Sage back to work.

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro, as serious as ever, replied, “We follow them and wait until they’re separated.”

Then, he would personally form a contract with the Sage and bring him back to Honmaru. Life would return to normal—tending the fields, leading expeditions, and occasionally enjoying watermelon together. Maybe they’d even get an ice machine to make the shaved watermelon ice the Sage had mentioned.

That was Yamanbagiri Kunihiro’s ideal life.

As for the other comrades, it didn’t matter if they didn’t accept the Sage. As long as they didn’t target him, everything would be fine.

Everyone carried their own scars, and only those who bore them knew their weight. Yamanbagiri Kunihiro wasn’t about to force his ideals onto others.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yamanbagiri.”

“Yes?”

“Your ability to kill a conversation is infuriating. Did you take a class for it?”

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro blinked innocently, his clear blue eyes brimming with confusion.

After a long pause, Tsurumaru Kuninaga gave in with a frustrated scratch of his head. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

Back at the KTV, Lin Ge sat stiffly on the leather sofa as if it were a bed of nails. The colorful lights flashing across the room made his handsome features look even more chaotic.

To his left sat Little Cake, and to his right, Chocolate Mille-Feuille. Surrounded by such refined company, Lin Ge made sure to keep things tame, opting for a fruit platter and two pitchers of lemon tea instead of anything more indulgent.

“Sensei, Fushiguro, Lin—can I sing first?” Itadori Yūji asked excitedly, gripping the microphone.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer!

His inner King of Pop was bursting to perform.

The trio nodded in unison, with Gojo Satoru lounging comfortably and offering, “Want me to record a video for you, Yūji?”

“No! That’s okay!” Itadori Yūji rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed.

Half an hour later, following a round of applause for The King’s Intermission, the microphone landed in Lin Ge’s hands.

“I’m not very good at this,” Lin Ge mumbled nervously, clutching the mic. But as soon as he looked at the song selection screen, his fingers darted confidently across it.

He locked onto his favorite song in seconds—“Bro, Give Me a Hug.”

This was his moment! If he sang it with enough emotion, he might even get Gojo Satoru to give him a hug.

Heh heh.

When the song started, Fushiguro Megumi raised an eyebrow. “A foreign song?”

“Am I confident?” Lin Ge muttered.

Itadori Yūji nodded eagerly. “Super confident.”

Even Gojo Satoru chimed in, his grin widening as he took a bite of watermelon. “Yup.”

After the song ended, silence filled the room. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Lin Ge straightened his back slightly, seeking approval. “So, how did I do?” he asked Gojo Satoru.

After a pause, Gojo clapped his hands. “Not bad.”

Before Lin Ge could celebrate, Gojo added, “But maybe don’t sing again.”

Lin Ge: “…”

That didn’t sound like a compliment.

Itadori Yūji gave a toothy grin. “Lin, you’re a soul singer! Just like my grandpa’s sleep-talking.”

Lin Ge: “…”

A knock on the door broke the awkward atmosphere. Lin Ge opened it to find a server holding four small plastic charms shaped like rain dolls.

“Congratulations! You’re tonight’s lucky customer,” she explained, offering the charms as part of a promotional gift.

Itadori Yūji picked the red one with childlike enthusiasm, calling it a “wish spirit.”

Lin Ge, not wanting to miss out, eagerly clasped his hands around one of the charms and began chanting his wish with utmost sincerity:

“Money come! Money come! Money from all directions, come to me! Fill my pockets morning, noon, and night! Cover the skies with cash! Quick, quick, quick!”