When Makoto woke up, Kei was no longer by his side.
Savoring the midnight frenzy, his body, more vital than a normal person’s, once again entered a state of high alert.
Last night, in the other world, he had assassinated members of the “Ranger” organization and incidentally killed several related federal Higher-Ups, drawing the attention of the American behemoth.
Relying on the spatial teleportation ability of a Jumper, he played a game of cat and mouse, navigating between pursuit and counter-pursuit.
Amidst the killing and bloodshed, Makoto’s mindset underwent a significant change.
Besides his mindset, the killing also stimulated his physical desires.
“This is a sickness.”
Makoto evaluated himself objectively but had no intention of seeking treatment.
Some say: Awake, wield the sword of a killer; drunk, rest on the lap of a beauty.
Others say: The greatest human desires lie in killing and fucking.
There’s nothing wrong with that.
Walking out of the bedroom in his pajamas, Makoto caught the scent of food.
It was the charred aroma of heated oil and the smell of freshly baked bread.
Stealthily approaching the kitchen, he saw Kei bustling about inside.
Morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft golden edge over the semi-open kitchen area.
Kei stood with her back to him, humming a tune in front of the stove, in a rather good mood.
In the frying pan, eggs and bacon sizzled.
She wasn’t wearing an apron, only one of her boyfriend’s black T-shirts.
The hem of the T-shirt barely covered her youthful, plump, and perky rear, but not completely.
The loose, black clothing created an extremely stark visual contrast with her fair, smooth legs.
Without any hesitation, Makoto silently walked up behind her, crouched down, lifted the hem of the purposely purchased oversized black T-shirt, and ducked his head inside.
“!!!”
Starting from the girl’s tailbone, he began kissing his way up, inch by inch.
Kei’s body stiffened abruptly.
“Cheng!!”
In a short gasp laden with shock and shyness, Kei instinctively tried to crouch down.
But Makoto didn’t give her the chance; he burrowed his entire body inside that oversized T-shirt.
“Cheng…
Makoto-kun?!”
Kei’s sweet voice carried astonishment and a tremble.
Scorching breath inched its way upward, causing her delicate skin to tremble.
She seemed to want to struggle, but something deep within her body made her play hard to get.
Inching upward.
Her slender waist, easily encircled, was tightly grasped.
A large expanse of her smooth back pressed against the man’s chest and abdomen.
“Wearing only a boyfriend T-shirt so early in the morning, is this a surprise for me, Kei?”
I didn’t intentionally dress like this…”
“What about the kitchen apron?”
“I couldn’t find it…
Waaah…”
A whimper, laced with a hint of crying, escaped from the depths of her throat.
A few strands of hair clung to her slightly sweaty, delicate neck.
When Makoto lowered his head and buried it in the crook of her neck, he smelled the freshness of her post-bath scent, mixed with the unique fragrance of a young girl in her prime.
Coupled with the aroma of food from the kitchen, Makoto’s appetite was greatly stimulated.
He chuckled: “It looks like breakfast is going to be very good today.”
Kei shyly closed her eyes.
She knew that she herself was the breakfast.
…
After quickly finishing breakfast, it was already getting late.
Kei hurried out the door, eager to get to school, as Haneoka’s academic atmosphere was quite strict.
“I hope she won’t be late.”
Makoto suddenly remembered something: “Should I go buy a car?”
He was unemployed and lived at a slow pace.
He usually had no urgent matters to attend to.
Transportation within Tokyo was basically done by taxi, and for longer distances, he would just use instant teleportation, making a personal car unnecessary.
Now that he thought about it, did he need to buy a car for commuting?
But driving himself was tiring, and he couldn’t recklessly speed through the city—he’d have to watch out for pedestrians, traffic police, and obey all sorts of messy traffic regulations…
“Sounds like too much trouble.”
Putting aside the idea of buying a car, Makoto prepared to go out shopping.
He wanted to see how his luck was today and if he could run into any of the beautiful girls he vaguely remembered.
Walking on the bustling streets filled with people and traffic, it looked no different from usual, yet Makoto no longer felt as relaxed; his nerves gradually tightened.
“Something feels off.”
Although his spirit was stronger than an ordinary person’s before, that strength was limited.
Now, not only had his perception greatly improved, but he also possessed the [Killer Sense] from his other self—the instinctive alertness developed from constantly existing on the razor’s edge between life and death.
He immediately sensed the anomaly within the crowd.
Had those major powers who observed the ‘aliens’ three months ago finally found him?
But just as he was pondering this.
Makoto clearly saw the source of the abnormality.
Several girls wearing different school uniforms, appearing to be high school students, with backpacks on.
They looked harmless.
But the killer’s experience told Makoto that these girls, who should be cheerfully enjoying their youth at school, each possessed the skill to subdue an adult male in under three seconds.
Makoto observed them discreetly for a long time and realized they weren’t there to capture him.
These mysterious high school girls seemed to be secretly fighting various crimes and protecting public safety.
High school girl agents secretly guarding everything?
Was there really this type in slice-of-life anime…
Oh, there really was!
Makoto instantly recalled an anime that was competing with ‘Engage Kiss’—a dynamic image of a short-haired, yellow-haired girl casually dodging rifle bullets, which was very popular and went viral at the time.
He had watched that cute girls’ anime before.
The ending was disastrously bad, but the animation production was indeed excellent.
“So it’s Lycoris Recoil.”
Lycoris Recoil was not only the name of the anime but also the name of the organization—a semi-official group composed of teenage girl agents who secretly fight crime and counter-terrorism.
After checking his phone and finding a Japanese-style cafe named ‘LycoReco,’ Makoto had this thought.
After a moment of contemplation, he immediately turned and walked toward the cafe.
He wondered if the plot of Lycoris Recoil had started yet.
He was interested in both female protagonists of the anime.
Of course, compared to Nishikigi Chisato, who wouldn’t even kill a villain, he preferred the ruthless and quiet Inoue Takina.
“I’ll go meet them.”
This trip was for pleasure, but also a test.
He wanted to know if his face had been captured by a satellite back then.
Rather than being caught off guard someday, set up, ambushed, and caught completely unprepared, Makoto preferred to keep the initiative in his own hands.
If his face had been captured by a satellite, then going to that cafe would likely attract the attention of the Japanese and even American Higher-Ups.
At that point, he, the transmigrator, would have a serious talk with the authorities.
It would be fine if they could talk things out.
If they couldn’t…
It is often said that holding a sharp weapon naturally breeds murderous intent.
Before, he only had the ability to teleport to escape danger, lacking the courage to kill, so his actions were cautious.
It was different now.
His strength had increased significantly.
He had also assassinated many members of the Ranger Organization in the movie world, killed high-ranking officials in several national regimes and armies, and even observed the edge of the Chechen battlefield to experience the brutality of modern warfare.
He now possessed the courage to kill.
As for reverence toward secular regimes, that vanished completely the moment he turned into the Jade-Faced Grenade King and threw a bomb at the White House.
And in this main world without supernatural abilities, if he were truly pushed to the point of hiding everywhere, Makoto wouldn’t mind giving all the highest echelons of various powers a collective funeral in a single day.
“It’s no big deal.”
Arriving at the entrance of the cafe, Makoto suddenly stopped.
He saw a black-haired girl carrying a notebook walk into the cafe.
Long straight black hair, white hairband, a full figure, and those black stockings that were almost a registered trademark…
An unexpected bonus!