Hello!!! Toyotaro Miracle high!!!- II

"You—" she pointed at him, her hands shaking, rage bubbling inside her like a volcano ready to erupt. "Do you have any idea what you just did?! These girls were being punished, Shotaro. PUNISHED. This is MY estate. MY rules. And you—" she gestured wildly at the table of crying women, "YOU JUST FED A BUNCH OF DISOBEDIENT WHORES A FIVE-STAR FUCKING BREAKFAST?!"

Shotaro blinked again.

Then, completely unfazed, he turned back to his cooking. "Want some?"

Rin nearly threw something at him.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

The women—who, just moments ago, had been sobbing into their meals—were now staring at the scene with something almost close to… amusement. Some of them, for the first time in ages, let out quiet chuckles. One even covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Rin snapped her head toward them.

"And WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL LAUGHING AT?!"

One of the women, still trembling from hunger, wiped her tears and looked up at Rin with something she had never dared show before.

A small, hesitant smile.

Rin froze.

And for the first time, something ugly and uncomfortable twisted in her chest.

Not anger.

Not rage.

Something else.

Something she didn't want to name.

Shotaro, still stirring his soup, yawned.

"You should eat before it gets cold," he muttered. "You look like you need it."

Rin snapped her gaze back to him, nostrils flaring. "What the—ARE YOU CALLING ME SKINNY OR SOMETHING?!"

Shotaro blinked, staring at her blankly. "No. You just look like you haven't eaten anything good in a long time."

Rin opened her mouth—then immediately closed it.

Her stomach growled.

Loudly.

Shotaro raised an eyebrow.

"...Want some bacon?"

Rin twitched violently.

"...Give me the fucking plate."

Rin snatched the plate from Shotaro's tiny hands, her eye twitching violently as she glared down at the perfectly cooked meal. The bacon gleamed under the dim lighting of the courtyard, golden and crisp, with just the right amount of fat glistening on the edges. The eggs, cooked sunny-side-up, were so flawlessly prepared that the yolks shone like molten gold. The soup, steaming gently, carried an aroma so rich and deep that it seeped into her very soul.

Her pride screamed at her to just throw the plate aside, to reject this blatant act of defiance. But her hunger—her cursed, traitorous hunger—won the battle.

With a grumble, she grabbed a piece of bacon and bit down.

And then—

—Her entire world shattered.

The moment the crispy, perfectly seasoned bacon touched her tongue, an explosion of flavors detonated in her mouth, sending shockwaves through every nerve in her body. The balance of salt and fat, the subtle hint of smokiness—it was so perfect that it felt like the very concept of bacon had been redefined in her mind.

Her eyes widened. Her pupils dilated.

Then—BOOM!

Her kimono exploded apart in a dramatic burst of energy, the sheer force of the taste tearing through the very fabric of reality. Golden light erupted behind her, casting a divine glow across the courtyard as her body convulsed with pleasure.

"W-what the hell—?! AGHHHHH!!"

She arched her back, her hair whipping around her like she had just been struck by lightning. The skies above cracked open, and in a flash of divine revelation, she found herself transported to a surreal, dreamlike space.

There—floating above the heavens—she saw it.

A field of golden pigs.

They floated through the air like celestial beings, their bodies glistening with an unholy sheen of divine pork fat. Ethereal angels, clad in robes made of sizzling bacon strips, sang praises in an ancient, long-forgotten tongue:

"CRIIIIIIISP~! SAAAAVOOOOR~! GLORIOUS MEAT~!"

Rin gasped, her breath stolen by the overwhelming beauty. A single godly pig descended toward her, its massive form radiating a warmth that cradled her soul. It looked down at her with infinite wisdom before speaking in a voice so deep, so powerful, it vibrated in her bones.

"Dost thou comprehend… the truth of BACON?"

Rin's knees buckled. She trembled, overwhelmed by the sacred knowledge being forced into her consciousness. "I… I do now…" she whispered.

The godly pig nodded solemnly. "Then go forth, child, and feast."

BAM!

She was violently yanked back to reality, her body shaking, her breath ragged.

She fell to her knees, hands trembling, sweat dripping down her forehead. Her kimono, once wrapped neatly around her, was now hanging off her shoulders in tattered strips, as if she had just survived a divine purification ritual.

The courtyard was silent.

Everyone was staring at her.

Some of the women who had been eating moments ago had stopped mid-bite, their mouths hanging open in stunned disbelief. One girl looked at Rin, then at the plate, then back at Rin—before hurriedly taking another bite, just to see if it would happen to her too.

It did.

The girl's entire body convulsed, her eyes rolling back as she let out an ungodly moan, her clothes nearly bursting apart from the sheer force of flavor. "I-I CAN SEE HEAVEN!!" she screamed, collapsing onto the table.

Another woman, completely entranced, shoved an entire strip of bacon into her mouth, only to immediately fall backward as her soul temporarily left her body.

"This is… THIS IS ALCHEMY!" one of the prostitutes gasped, clutching her chest as she experienced nirvana.

"I—I've eaten at the finest restaurants in the capital, but NOTHING has ever—!" Another woman fell to the ground, gripping the dirt as if to ground herself to reality.

Rin, still recovering from her own food-induced enlightenment, turned her head slowly toward the source of this madness.

Shotaro.

That five-year-old demon.

The culinary warlord.

The incarnation of the God of Cooking himself.

He stood there, completely unimpressed, picking his nose.

"…You okay?" he asked, as if he hadn't just shattered her perception of food.

Rin couldn't even formulate words. She was shaking, her entire world destroyed and rebuilt within seconds. She could only stare at him in disbelief, sweat dripping down her face as she gripped the remains of her tattered kimono.

After a long, painful silence—

She finally managed to choke out two words.

"...Give me more."

Shotaro, the five-year-old culinary eldritch entity, casually handed out seconds to the drooling, trembling women before him.

"Here ya go," he said, completely unfazed by the destruction he had just wrought upon reality itself.

And then—

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

The moment the food touched their tongues, a chain reaction of pure, unfiltered ecstasy detonated through the courtyard like a synchronized explosion of atomic flavor warfare.

BA-KOOOOOM!!

One woman arched her back so violently that her entire body snapped into a bridge position, her eyes rolling back so far that only the whites remained. A shockwave of unholy bliss erupted from her—the sheer force blowing out every candle in the estate.

Another woman, gripping her bowl of soup with trembling hands, took one sip—just one sip—and immediately achieved enlightenment.

Her soul physically left her body, ascending into the sky in a beam of golden radiance.

The heavens opened. A celestial choir erupted in song.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaah~"

A halo formed above her head. She reached toward the sky, a single tear rolling down her cheek as she whispered:

"I have SEEN the divine cookbook..."

BAM!! She dropped limp to the ground, her body twitching like she had just been tased by God himself.

Rin, still in the fetal position from her previous food-induced enlightenment, tried to pull herself together. She failed.

Her vision blurred. Her hands trembled. Her stomach growled like a feral beast.

She lunged forward, snatching another plate, her pride completely obliterated.

She took a bite.

And in that instant—

The laws of physics no longer applied.

She was suddenly soaring through the cosmos, her body naked and wrapped in swirling galaxies, her limbs stretching across the endless void as cosmic bacon strips spiraled around her like celestial ribbons.

Her body erupted into stars.

A black hole of pure flavor opened beneath her, sucking her in, distorting time itself. Memories from her past lives flooded her mind. She saw herself as a prehistoric cavewoman, grunting in delight as she bit into the first-ever cooked meal in human history.

Then—she was a Victorian noblewoman, fainting dramatically at a lavish feast, clutching her chest as an entire orchestra played in the background.

Then—she was an alien princess, floating in a zero-gravity spaceship, moaning in an incomprehensible extraterrestrial language as a gelatinous gourmet being spoon-fed her cosmic delicacies.

She slammed back into her body, gasping for air.

Sweat dripped from every pore. Her clothes barely clung to her body, shredded by the sheer force of culinary enlightenment.

A second wave of flavor-induced devastation rocked the estate.

The courtyard cracked open, a golden geyser of liquid umami erupting from beneath as the very ground itself acknowledged the food's superiority.

Somewhere in the distance—

A monk in a secluded temple suddenly clutched his chest, his eyes snapping open in terror.

"A disturbance in the Flavor Force..." he muttered. "A chef beyond human comprehension has been born..."

Back in the estate—

One of the women, having eaten just a little too much, screamed into the night like a werewolf in heat, before dropping face-first into the dirt, her legs twitching like she had just downloaded the entire universe's forbidden cooking techniques into her nervous system.

Another woman—tears streaming down her face—grabbed Shotaro by his tiny shoulders and shook him violently.

"WHAT ARE YOU?!?" she cried. "WHAT DARK PACT DID YOU MAKE?!?"

Shotaro blinked.

Then picked his nose.

"I am good," he said, before walking off to grab more plates.

Rin lay there, her body a shattered husk, her mind permanently rewired by the forbidden knowledge of this child's ungodly culinary arts.

She gazed at the night sky, still trembling.

And then, barely above a whisper—

"...More…"

Rin sat cross-legged, her arms lazily draped over her knees, watching the little silver-haired brat with a mix of curiosity and mild irritation.

Shotaro stood before her, back straight, his tiny five-year-old chest puffed out like a commander delivering demands to a warlord.

"I have one condition," he declared, folding his little arms. His face was set in an expression of deep seriousness, but it was clear he was trying way too hard to act tough.

Rin arched an eyebrow, amused.

"Oh? And what would that be, huh, brat?" she asked, tilting her head, already expecting something ridiculous like "I want more bacon" or "I demand a throne of pillows."

But then—

Shotaro raised a single finger and pointed it straight at her.

"You are going to change your ways," he said, voice steady, eyes unwavering.

For a split second—silence.

A pin could've dropped and caused a goddamn explosion.

Then—

"HUH?!"

The collective shockwave of disbelief rippled through the entire estate. Every single woman in the courtyard—former captives, current workers, some still trembling from The Great Food Awakening—snapped their heads toward the boy, their jaws hanging open.

Even Rin felt the air shift.

"...What?" she blinked.

"Yeah, why do you all look so surprised?" Shotaro said, turning to the women. "I'm doing it for you all."

The women exchanged glances, their disbelief deepening.

Rin, meanwhile, let out a sharp laugh, rubbing her temple. "Tch. You've got some nerve, brat. What, you think you can just waltz in here, demand I change, and I'll just—"

"You're going to stop exploiting them," Shotaro cut her off mid-sentence, his red eyes burning with a fire that shouldn't exist in a child his age.

Rin's smirk twitched.

"...Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Shotaro continued, completely unshaken. "No more trapping them here. No more treating them like objects. No more making them stay when they want to leave. No more abuse."

He was talking to her like she was the damn kid.

A woman gasped audibly. Another let out a low whistle.

"Damn… I knew kids didn't have any filters, but this is something else," one muttered.

Shotaro ignored the whispers, his gaze still locked onto Rin.

"And I also want you to improve their working conditions," he added.

The women gasped again, but this time, it was with real hope.

Shotaro wasn't just running his mouth. He meant business.

"And their workload," he added without missing a beat.

Rin felt her eye twitch.

This little gremlin—this **five-year-old with the strength of a goddamn gorilla and the bluntness of a drunk old man—**was standing there, issuing demands as if she was the kid and he was the damn boss.

"And if I refuse?" she asked, voice dangerously smooth.

Shotaro folded his arms again. "Then I'm leaving."

Another silence.

The air turned heavy.

It wasn't just about him walking away. It was what that meant.

Rin exhaled sharply, shifting her weight onto one arm.

She wasn't sure what it was—if it was the ghost of her husband's voice echoing in her head, or if it was the way this brat stood his ground so unshaken—but something about his words dug into her like a splinter she couldn't remove.

The women were watching.

Shotaro was waiting.

And for the first time in years, Rin felt like she had been cornered.

"…Tch."

She clicked her tongue, looking away.

"You really are a pain in the ass, brat," she muttered.

Shotaro smirked. "I get that a lot."

The women collectively held their breath.

Rin sighed. She turned her gaze toward the crowd of women—some of whom had suffered under her rule, some who had never had the courage to look her in the eye until now.

"Fine," she said finally. "I'll… consider it."

The moment the words left her mouth—the courtyard erupted.

Some women collapsed to their knees, covering their mouths in shock. Others burst into tears, overwhelmed by the impossible.

A few of the older ones, who had given up on the idea of ever being free again, simply stared at Shotaro like he had just parted the damn sea.

Rin rubbed her temples, already regretting whatever the hell just happened.

Shotaro?

He just sat down, picked up another plate of food, and kept eating like he hadn't just forced the most ruthless woman in the city to change her entire damn business model.

"This bacon is pretty good," he mumbled.

And with that—

The revolution had begun.

Rin's breath hitched as the weight of realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

"That child can save you."

That was what Ikemoto had said. Not redemption. Not punishment. Not revenge.

Shotaro.

This brat. This silver-haired, red-eyed, mouthy little gremlin. He was the answer.

Rin had spent years convinced there was nothing left for her but the filth she had built around herself. She thought her sins were too deep, her soul too rotted to ever crawl out of the abyss she had dug.

But this kid—this ridiculous, impossible child—had walked into her empire of sin and challenged her to destroy it.

And worse?

She was actually considering it.

Her fingers clenched. She didn't deserve this.

She had done too much. She had bled people dry, broken them, turned them into tools for her own survival. And yet, here he was.

A five-year-old lecturing her like she was the child.

A five-year-old demanding she change.

A five-year-old who, instead of running from her, instead of fearing her, had sat at her table, fed her people, and told her to be better.

"That child can save you."

Her throat tightened.

She hadn't believed it then.

She believed it now.

Rin scoffed, leaning back, arms crossed, trying to shrug off the growing weight pressing against her chest.

"Why do you even care about these…whores?" she demanded, her voice dripping with indifference, like she hadn't been just moments away from breaking apart inside.

Shotaro looked up at her, his red eyes burning—not with anger, not with disgust, but with something far worse.

Conviction.

"Because," he said, voice steady, unshaken, "before getting blown up, my mother told me I had to save everyone… something like that."

Rin's breath caught.

That night.

She didn't even need to ask which one.

The Hokkaido Incident. The night that carved this kid out of fire and grief and left him standing here in front of her, making demands that no child should have to make.

She laughed, sharp and cruel, desperate to smother the unease curling in her stomach.

"Hah. Let me guess—" she sneered, her smirk widening, forcing herself to sound amused when really, she wanted to run. "Is the four-foot knight here starting his grand career by saving whores from their evil boss?"

She expected him to scowl. To look away. To waver.

He didn't.

He just stood there, staring up at her, eyes steady, back straight, like he had already decided.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice—yet one that cut through her like a blade—

"No."

Rin froze.

Shotaro's tiny fingers curled into fists. His jaw tightened. His red eyes—those damn red eyes—gleamed with something unshakable.

"I want to save you too."

Rin's stomach dropped.

What the fuck?

The air in the room shifted.

For the first time in years, someone was looking at her not as a villain. Not as a monster.

But as someone worth saving.

Her fingers twitched.

Her throat burned.

Her chest ached.

She didn't deserve this.

She wanted to laugh, to mock him, to deny it outright.

But the words wouldn't come.

Because, deep down, in the part of her soul she thought had long since rotted away, she knew.

She knew.

That child really could save her.

If she let him.

Rin pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting for her life against the migraine that was forming.

She had dealt with psychotic debt collectors, deranged rival bosses, and assassins sent to kill her in her sleep.

But this?

This five-year-old gremlin was about to drive her off the deep end.

"You retarded preschooler," she spat, jabbing a finger at his tiny, smug face. "Let's see how much you can save me when I drop your ass at an orphanage. I am not your guardian, yet, you know?"

Shotaro didn't flinch.

"Do it."

Rin blinked.

The brat tilted his head slightly, eyes glowing with unholy confidence.

"I'll just fly back."

Rin choked on air.

"…You'll what?"

"Fly back." Shotaro said it like it was as normal as breathing. Like this was just a casual Tuesday conversation. Like she wasn't seconds away from slamming his ass into the floor out of pure disbelief.

She stared at him.

Then she laughed. Hard.

"Oh, I forgot you can fly." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "My bad. Then how about this? I'll just put a whole-ass dorm around this red-light district. Lock you in, make sure you stay out of my business. Which—by the way—I am financially able to do."

Shotaro shrugged.

"I can instantly teleport."

Rin's entire body stiffened.

"...You can what?"

"Instantly teleport," Shotaro repeated, staring up at her dead serious. "Or I'll just melt through the dorm with heat vision."

Silence.

Dead silence.

Even the prostitutes who had been quietly eavesdropping from the corners of the room stopped mid-bite.

One of them, a tall woman with heavy eyeliner and a cigarette dangling from her lips, nearly choked.

"Heat-whaT?!"

Rin just stood there, her soul leaving her body.

A nerve twitched in her forehead.

"I'm sorry—what."

Shotaro blinked innocently. "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that part. I can also—"

"No. NO." Rin held up a hand. "Stop. I need a second." She turned away, placing both hands on her knees like she was about to collapse.

This wasn't happening.

She picked up a random, helpless glass of water from the table, downed it in one gulp, and then set it back down with force.

Then, she turned back to Shotaro, her eyes twitching.

"So what you're saying," she began, slowly, carefully, as if processing the absolute bullshit she had just heard, "is that on top of being a five-year-old with super strength, you also fly, teleport, and have fucking HEAT VISION?"

Rin was fighting demons in her brain.

She had seen a lot of crazy shit in her lifetime.

But this?

This five-year-old freak of nature standing in front of her, casually listing his world-ending powers like it was a school presentation, was too much.

"So let me get this straight," she began, her voice strained as she rubbed her temples. "On top of super strength, flying, teleporting, and heat vision... What else you got, brat?"

Shotaro tapped his chin, thinking.

"Uh... well," he started, counting on his fingers, "there's super speed, enhanced senses, durability, energy blasts, ice breath, and self-healing."

Silence.

More silence.

The girls in the room were frozen mid-sip of their drinks.

One of them, a petite blonde with fox-like eyes, whispered, "That's just Goku."

Shotaro, completely ignoring the existential crisis happening around him, continued.

"Oh! And I can breathe in space."

Rin's eye twitched so hard it nearly spasmed out of her skull.

"Excuse me, what."

"Breathe in space," Shotaro repeated, casually. "I think I can hold my breath for, like, a few years too. Haven't tested it, but yeah."

Rin slowly turned to the nearest girl, grabbed a bottle of the strongest alcohol she could find, and downed it straight.

But Shotaro wasn't done.

"Also, I think I can survive nukes."

Rin choked.

"NUKES?!"

Shotaro nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I haven't tested it, but I did survive flying into the sun & back once."

A girl in the background fainted.

Rin?

Rin was just standing there. Processing. Trying. Struggling.

She slammed the bottle down on the table and pointed a shaking finger at Shotaro.

"You mean to tell me," she growled, "that I picked up a five-year-old walking WMD and brought him into my home?!"

Shotaro shrugged.

"Technically, yeah."

Rin sat down. Hard.

"Yeah, okay. I'm done." She grabbed the bottle again. "I'm drinking myself to death. Goodbye."

Shotaro sighed like a disappointed parent.

"Ms. Rin, alcohol isn't a solution."

Rin gawked at him.

"SAYS THE CHILD WHO CAN BREATHE IN SPACE, MELT METAL WITH HIS EYES, AND EAT NUKES FOR BREAKFAST."

Shotaro blinked. "I never said I eat nukes for breakfast. Just that I could survive one."

Rin had never wanted to yeet a child more in her life.

Rin opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

Then she turned to one of the girls.

"Please. Hit me. I need to know if I'm dreaming."

The girl raised a hand, but before she could slap Rin across the face, Shotaro raised a single finger—

And in the blink of an eye, a tiny, concentrated beam of heat shot from his eye, melting the spoon on the table into a small puddle of molten metal.

Everyone screamed.

Rin threw herself back.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!!"

Shotaro, completely unfazed, picked up the melted spoon, looked at it, then nodded in satisfaction.

"See? Heat vision."

The entire room was in shambles.

Rin's soul left her body for the second time.

She had brought Jesus himself into her house.

& what do you do with that...Katana you walk around with.

"Oh It's just the Tokioni Muramasa, my family's heirloom, also known as virtue blade, can only be unsheated by those posses all 7 cardinal virtues you"

"Excuse me what the fuck"

"The virtue blade you know"

"No actually I heard it first time".

Rin had officially reached her limit.

She had heard a lot of bullshit in her life.

But this?

This was next-level.

She leaned forward, rubbing her temples. "So let me get this straight." She exhaled, trying to process the absolute nonsense coming out of this five-year-old's mouth. "You carry around a sword that can only be drawn by someone who possesses all seven cardinal virtues?"

Shotaro nodded.

"Yep. The Tokioni Muramasa." He patted the sheathed katana at his waist like it was a toy and not some legendary artifact of world-breaking proportions. "It's my family's heirloom."

Rin just stared at him.

"Excuse me, what the fuck."

Shotaro tilted his head. "What? You've never heard of the Virtue Blade?"

"No, actually, I'm hearing about it for the first time." Rin pinched the bridge of her nose. "And you mean to tell me, you, a five-year-old gremlin, have unlocked all seven cardinal virtues?"

"Uh-huh."

Silence.

Long, painful silence.

Rin stared at the sword. Then at Shotaro. Then at the sword again.

"...Are you sure it's not just a normal sword, brat?"

Shotaro shook his head, dead serious.

"Nope. Try pulling it out."

Rin snorted. "Pft. Alright, let's see—" She grabbed the handle and pulled.

Nothing.

She yanked harder.

Still nothing.

"...This thing's broken," she muttered, gripping the sheath tighter. She planted her feet, using all her trained strength to pull the blade free.

The sword didn't budge an inch.

She gave it one last violent tug—and suddenly, an invisible force slammed her straight into the wall.

BANG.

The entire estate shook from the impact.

A girl in the background screamed, "OH MY GOD, IT SENT HER FLYING!"

Rin slid down the wall, groaning. "What the hell was that?!"

Shotaro just shrugged.

"I told you," he said, munching on a rice ball, completely unbothered. "Only someone with all seven virtues can unsheathe it."

Rin, still dizzy from getting yeeted, slowly turned her head toward him.

"You mean to tell me that you, the five-year-old retard, meet the qualifications, but I don't?!"

Shotaro blinked. "Well, do you have humility, kindness, patience, diligence, charity, temperance, and chastity?"

Rin froze.

The room went dead silent.

Even the girls in the background averted their eyes.

A single bead of sweat rolled down Rin's temple.

"...You little shit."

Shotaro just smirked.

For a long while, Rin just stood there.

She didn't say anything.

She didn't move.

She only watched.

Shotaro sat among the women—her women—the ones she had tormented, controlled, and used like disposable commodities. And yet, now, they surrounded him, eating the food he cooked with their eyes brimming with tears, some of them openly sobbing as they took bite after bite.

It was ridiculous. It was insulting.

And yet, it made her chest feel heavy.

The clatter of bowls and chopsticks, the quiet sniffles of women who had once been lifeless dolls in her grasp, the occasional laugh—a real laugh, not a forced one meant to please a client. It was all wrong. It was all so fucking wrong.

This was her red-light district. Her kingdom of indulgence and debauchery. A place of chains, both unseen and literal. And here was this brat—this ridiculous, overpowered little brat—shoving food into their hands and acting like he had the right to disrupt the natural order.

Did he even understand what this place was?

What she was?

Rin clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

But even as anger swelled in her, it was tangled with something else.

A deep, gnawing unease.

A question that she didn't want to face.

Was Ikemoto right?

Was this what he meant when he said, That child can save you?

Did she... need him?

She glanced at Shotaro again, watching as he casually wiped a woman's tears with the edge of his sleeve before plopping another helping of food onto her plate like it was nothing. He wasn't asking for anything. He wasn't judging them. He was just doing it.

And despite herself, she couldn't look away.

Could she really just... let this happen?

Because if Ikemoto was right, then this child—this small, untamed force of nature—was standing at a crossroads.

One path would lead him to become the greatest shield the world had ever known. A force that could protect and save. A beacon in a world filled with darkness.

But the other path?

The other path would turn him into a monster beyond anything she could even comprehend.

Something far worse than her.

Something far worse than she had ever imagined herself to be.

And yet, why her?

Why was it her that he was choosing?

Why was this five-year-old, reality-warping menace—who could fly, teleport, and apparently **pull out some goddamn holy katana like a chosen hero—**insisting on staying with her?

Why me? she thought bitterly. Why do I deserve this?

Did she really deserve the ability to change the world's fate?

Did she even want that responsibility?

Rin had long since accepted that she was filth. A parasite. A selfish, indulgent tyrant of the underworld. And yet, here was a child—one who had lost everything—choosing her.

Clinging to her.

Does he really need me?

Or was this just a cruel joke?

Her fingers twitched.

The thought of pushing him away, throwing him out before it was too late, crossed her mind.

But deep down... she already knew.

She couldn't.

She couldn't get rid of him.

Not because he was physically impossible to contain—she had already lost that battle when he casually mentioned melting through solid walls and teleporting whenever he felt like it.

But because...

Somewhere, in the depths of her rotting, decayed soul—

She didn't want him to leave.

And that terrified her more than anything.

For the longest time, Rin had thought her fate was sealed.

She was Akagitsune Rin.The Queen of the Red Light District.The Wicked Fox.The Tyrant of pleasure.

She had long since accepted her role as a monster.

She was never going to change. There was no redemption for people like her. Even if she tried, even if she pretended, the weight of her sins would crush any attempt at being a better person. She had made peace with that.

Or at least—she thought she had.

But now?

Now, there was this ridiculous little bastard.

This silver-haired, red-eyed gremlin who was five goddamn years old and somehow stronger than most trained killers she had ever met. A kid who didn't give a single shit about who she was or what she had done.

A kid who should have been just another tragic footnote in the endless cycle of suffering that defined the world she ruled.

But he wasn't.

Instead, he was standing there, arms crossed, chest puffed up like a pint-sized warlord, demanding that she change.

Demanding that she stop being a piece of shit.

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it wasn't impossible.

Like she could just choose to be better.

And Rin hated how much that rattled her.

For a moment, she wanted to laugh in his face. To tell him that people don't change. That no matter what he said, no matter what he thought he could do, the world was always going to be cruel.

But she didn't.

Because the truth was—this brat was already proving her wrong.

He was changing things.

Right in front of her.

The women she had kept broken and obedient were eating at his table. Laughing at his dumb jokes. Feeling human again for the first time in years.

And the worst part?

She was starting to feel human too.

And she hated it.

Because the more she watched him, the more she saw him standing there with that determined, infuriating little expression—

The more she realized she had already lost.

Ikemoto had told her in that dream.

"That child can save you."

At the time, she had scoffed. She had thought it was some poetic bullshit, some sentimental nonsense meant to tug at her long-dead heartstrings.

But now—standing here, watching Shotaro stare her down with all the confidence of a goddamn shonen protagonist—

She understood.

This wasn't about saving herself.

It was about him.

He was standing at a crossroads—the same one she had once stood at.

And he was already teetering at the edge.

One path would turn him into the world's greatest protector.

The other would turn him into a nightmare beyond comprehension.

And she—a woman who had spent years tearing people down, destroying lives, selling souls for profit—

She was the one who got to decide which way he went.

What kind of sick cosmic joke was that?

The weight of that realization nearly crushed her.

She had never been responsible for anything but destruction.

She had never built anything. Never protected anything. Never nurtured anything.

And yet, now—

Now she had this tiny, overpowered little bastard looking at her like she was supposed to be his fucking parent.

Like she was supposed to raise him.

Like she was supposed to save him.

And the worst part?

She wanted to.

For the first time in years, she wanted to do something other than indulge in her own depravity.

For the first time in years, she wanted to try.

She wanted to protect him. To keep him from becoming what she was.

She wanted to take this ridiculous, stubborn little superhuman and make sure he never became a monster.

She wanted to keep him safe.

And that's when it happened.

That's when she snapped.

Something inside her—something that had been buried beneath years of filth and cruelty—

Cracked.

It was like an exorcism.

Like all the ghosts of her past were being violently evicted from her rotten soul.

Her entire worldview shifted.

And at that moment, she knew.

Evil?

Done.

Shotaro?

Her son now.

No turning back. No second-guessing. No regrets.

She turned to the women who had once feared her.

She turned to the brat who had just obliterated every excuse she had ever made for herself.

And for the first time in a very, very long time—

Akagitsune Rin smiled.

Not a smirk. Not a cruel grin.

A real, genuine smile.

"…Tch." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Goddamn it."

Shotaro raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

She stepped forward, towering over him, then jabbed a finger into his forehead.

"You win, brat." She said, voice laced with amusement—and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of affection. "I give up."

The women gasped.

Shotaro just blinked. "…Wait. What?"

"I said," she flicked his forehead, "you win."

"…Oh."

There was a long pause.

Then, Shotaro grinned.

A big, bright, stupid little grin.

"…Heh. Knew you'd come around."

Rin rolled her eyes. "Tch. Don't get cocky."

The women erupted into cheers.

Rin let out a long, exasperated sigh, shaking her head.

What the fuck had she just signed up for?.