“Are we still fighting?”
Naoya’s face shifted through a spectrum of pale and blue.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“If not, I’ll be going now.” Arata turned around and walked toward Maki.
He had only taken two steps when Naoya’s voice, sounding utterly humiliated, came from behind: “Stop right there!
You…”
Arata glanced back at Naoya.
It wasn’t a particularly expressive look, but Naoya’s voice choked in his throat as if someone had grabbed him by the windpipe.
Arata withdrew his gaze and continued toward Maki.
As he reached her, his nonchalant expression softened, his tone taking on the air of someone looking for a bit of praise.
“How was that?
Didn’t embarrass you, did I?”
Maki looked at her, her lips twitching before she managed a single word: “Idiot.”
“Let’s go.” Arata naturally extended his hand.
“To see Mai?”
Maki froze for a second, her eyes lingering on his outstretched hand.
After a brief pause, she reached out and took it.
“Yeah.”
Just as they were about to leave, a weathered but energetic voice sounded from nearby.
“It’s not very polite to ignore an old man like me, is it?”
Arata turned to see a man with white hair swept back, thin eyebrows, and iconic flared moustaches.
Clad in a traditional kimono, the old man was leaning against a wall, watching them with an intrigued gaze.
Naobito Zenin.
The 26th Head of the Zenin Clan, a Special Grade 1 Sorcerer, an–arguably–the only relatively sane person in the family (though some might argue for Ranta Zenin).
The old man shook the wine gourd in his hand.
His sharp eyes scanned Arata, finally landing on the hand holding Maki’s.
The corners of his mouth curled into an ambiguous arc.
“Clan Head,” Maki said, bowing her head slightly with a trace of respect.
Arata followed suit, giving Naobito a slight bow.
“Greetings, old man.”
Naobito didn’t speak immediately.
He strolled over at a leisurely pace and stopped in front of Arata.
He was shorter than Arata, but he possessed an aura that commanded immediate attention.
“So, you’re the Copycat Sorcerer?” Naobito asked, his voice low yet carries a natural weight of authority.
“That’s me…” Arata scratched his head.
“Why is it that everyone knows my title but nobody knows my name?”
Naobito stared at him for a few seconds before erupting into a hearty laugh.
“Hahahaha!
To be able to thrash Naoya like that…
you’re an interesting one.”
The laughter echoed through the courtyard, the sheer boldness of it stunning the Zenin members who were waiting to see more drama.
Once he had his fill of laughing, the old man patted Arata on the shoulder.
“Since you’re here, don’t be in such a hurry to leave.
Stay for a meal.
It happens to be a family gathering tonight.”
“Is that really appropriate?
I just came to see Maki, and incidentally…”
“Incidentally beat up my son?” Naobito raised an eyebrow, his tone neither praising nor blaming.
“The deed is done.
If you leave without even having a meal, people will think the Zenin family lacks hospitality.”
Arata opened his mouth, unsure of how to respond.
Naobito didn’t give him a chance to refuse.
He turned and walked away toward the inner manor.
After a few steps, he looked back.
“Someone will lead you there tonight.
And Maki–you come too.”
Maki was silent for a second, then nodded slightly.
“Yes.”
After Naobito left, Arata followed Maki to Mai’s room, as seeing her sister was the reason Maki had returned today.
Along the way, every Zenin member they passed bowed, but their eyes couldn’t help but dart toward Arata.
That mixture of curiosity, wariness, and disbelief made Arata feel like a specimen in a zoo.
“Don’t mind them,” Maki’s voice came softly from beside him.
“That’s just how they are.”
Arata glanced at her, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I don’t mind.
I actually think it’s quite interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Yeah.” Arata nodded.
“Look at their eyes.
They look at me like I’m a monster, but they’re too scared to step up.
They can only hide in the corners and peek.
I never thought I’d get to enjoy that ‘overpowered protagonist’ feeling one day.”
Maki didn’t reply, but the curve of her mouth softened.
The banquet hall was massive, with far more formal decor than the drawing room.
Delicacies were already set on the low tables, with sake carafes and cups neatly arranged.
Naobito took the seat of honor and signaled for the two to sit.
Arata sat beside Maki, his eyes scanning the food before landing on the sake bottle.
He felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of dread.
“What are you standing around for?” Naobito took a heavy swig from his gourd and squinted at Arata.
“Can you drink?”
“A…
a little,” Arata answered conservatively.
“Then have some.” Naobito filled Arata’s cup without giving him a choice.
“A young man who doesn’t drink?
That’s no way to live.”
Maki glanced at Arata, her lips moving as if to say something before she thought better of it.
She remembered the last time the five of them had a meal; this guy had secretly brought out two bottles of sake.
After just two drinks, he started hugging Panda and yelling about how “fluffy and comfortable” he was.
In the end, Yuta and Toge had to drag him back.
Arata looked at the cup, then at Maki’s meaningful gaze.
He gritted his teeth, picked up the cup, and downed it in one go.
Ten minutes later…
“Old man, let me tell you…
I know this senior of mine.
We’re pretty close.
You two would get along great.”
Arata, already completely smashed, had used a teleportation flicker to appear right next to Naobito, throwing an arm around the Clan Head’s shoulders.
Naobito raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?
What’s his name?”
“His name is Kinji Hakari.
He’s a man who loves fever–fever is gambling, and gambling is life.
A pure gambler.
But I don’t think he’s pure enough yet.
He should come to you guys for some tips.
After all, your Zenin family are the *real* gamblers.”
The banquet hall went silent for a heartbeat.
Everyone looked at Arata in utter disbelief.
Naobito’s hand, holding his sake cup, froze mid-air.
His sharp eyes stared at the drunken youth hanging off his shoulder.
His expression was…
subtle.
“Gamblers?” The old man repeated the word, his tone unreadable.
“Yeah!” Arata nodded vigorously, completely unaware of the weight of his words.
“Your first bet was that Toji wouldn’t kill all of you.
You won that bet.
He really had zero interest in slaughtering a bunch of trash like you.”
“Toji?” Naobito spoke slowly, his tone playful.
“You know that guy?”
“Don’t know him.” Arata shook his head, his hair flopping around.
“But who hasn’t heard the name ‘Sorcerer Killer’?”
“Continue.” The old man took another drink, a spark of interest flashing in his eyes.
“Say what?” Arata blinked, looking dazed.
“Oh right.
Old man, your Zenin family is truly brave.
Seriously, I admire you.”
Arata gave a thumbs-up, his expression so sincere it didn’t even sound like sarcasm.
“Winning the first bet is one thing, but I can’t believe you’re brave enough to bet a second time.
Tsk, tsk…” Arata swayed his head.
“You’re betting that Maki won’t become a second Toji, right?
But with this family atmosphere of yours…
it’s hard to say.”
[Total Bonus Chapters Achieved: 0]