"Welcome, Lord Schneider."

Naturally, Julius had pulled the strings only someone of his background could pull. With a single message sent through his network, the reservation was secured in one of Japan’s most exclusive pavilions.

An establishment so prestigious that ninety-nine percent of tourists would never even know it existed. As the youngest son of the Schneider Group, Julius was received like royalty.

Japan knew exactly how delicate relations with Germany were. One misstep toward a Schneider was the equivalent of insulting the entire European powerhouse.

And everyone knew what happened when Germany and Japan clashed.

It was often said, half as a joke, and half as a historical warning, that putting those two nations together in unfavorable circumstances was like tempting fate into writing a new world war.

Which was precisely why the pavilion staff greeted Julius as though their lives depended on it.

"Your German pronunciation is really good," Julius remarked as he eyed one of the attendants. "Are you with the Schneider branch here in Japan?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, Lord Schneider. I was trained under the Tokyo division. It is an honor to serve you."

"I see," Julius said with a nod. "They trained you well."

Her eyes brightened. "Thank you, sir. We were informed you might arrive this month, so we reviewed additional dialects and etiquette."

"Lord Schneider," another staff member approached with a bow, "may we take your luggage?"

Before Julius could answer, Gabriel dramatically raised both hands. "Careful with that bag. It contains very important items."

The attendant bowed deeper. "May I ask what is inside, sir?"

"A single pair of sunglasses I will emotionally perish without."

Julius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ignore him. Handle everything normally."

"Of course, Lord Schneider."

With that, they each set their bags down in their respective rooms. Barely a minute passed before Anneliese rushed straight back out the door toward the veranda.

"Mommy, look!" she cried, pressing her hands against the glass. "There’s a pool! And there’s steam! Wow, wow! Is that a cat lady serving sandwiches?!"

Isolde hurried over, eyes widening. Outside, the private courtyard stretched like paradise, featuring a steaming onsen pool.

Beside it, a maid with carefully engineered cat ears that twitched with an odd degree of realism was indeed offering a tray of neatly cut sandwiches to another guest.

"Oh dear..." Isolde whispered, clutching her chest. "They’re everywhere."

Anneliese bounced. "Mommy! Mommy! Can Anne go talk to the cat lady? Please!"

"No—no, Anne, wait—what if the ears move again—"

"Doctor," Julius said, "do you perhaps have a fear of the uncanny valley?"

"That is not... I am not..." Isolde sputtered, already moving backward as if the cat maid outside might phase through the glass.

"I see," Julius continued, regarding her like a curious specimen. "Did you grow up watching things like horror dolls or animatronics? Creepy mascots? Carnival puppets? Anything with dead blinking eyes?"

"No!" she shot back too quickly. "Absolutely not. I avoided all of those. They’re unnatural. Eyes should not click when they move."

"So you did grow up terrified."

"...Mister Schneider, can I go home? I’ll leave Anne in your care."

Julius turned slowly. "Hold it. Why are you actually bringing your luggage?"

"...."

Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head toward him.

Julius narrowed his eyes. "Doctor."

"...Yes?"

"You were going to work again."

Her eyes widened. "How did you—"

Julius raised his phone. "The accountant just messaged me saying someone ’mysteriously adjusted seventeen spreadsheets and reorganized our Q3–Q4 projections.’ Care to explain why our expense column now has color-coded emotional notes?"

Isolde flinched. "I-I was only checking! I didn’t adjust anything major—"

"You changed ’miscellaneous expenses’ to ’things Anneliese broke.’ "

"Well, that’s just efficient labeling—"

"And you added a footnote saying ’buy more plates.’ "

"...."

Isolde clamped her mouth shut. Julius reached out and firmly grabbed her wrist before she could even think of sprinting back toward the door.

"We’re going sightseeing," he said.

"W-What about Anne?"

"She’ll be fine with Gabriel."

In the background, Gabriel was very clearly not fine, holding Anneliese by the armpits like a malfunctioning crane machine.

"Miss Anneliese, stop squirming. I’m trying to see if your power level increases when you touch water."

"Nooo! Anne is not a Pokémon!"

"Just hold still, I need data—"

Splash——

A large wave exploded upward, soaking Gabriel head to toe. Anneliese stood triumphantly in the water with her fists raised.

"Anne evolved!

Julius watched the scene and genuinely questioned reality.

How had his friend even managed to pass the Revenant Knights’ screening?

At work, Gabriel was a cold professional who could command a battalion as if it were as simple as breathing.

How was such an extreme gap moe even possible?

As Gabriel spluttered and crawled out of the water, Anneliese puffed out her cheeks and prepared another splash attack like she was charging mana.

"Miss Anneliese, don’t... I’m warning you... I will counterattack—"

"No, you won’t!" she declared. "Anne is aquatic-type!"

"...Aquatic-type?"

"Uh-huh! Weak to electricity! Pew pew!"

"What—"

A towel smacked him in the face. He tripped backward into the pool again.

* * *

"Completely different from Germany, is it?" Julius asked as they walked along the path lined with animated signboards and holographic koi fish.

"That’s... an exaggeration, Mister Schneider," Isolde replied. "This is another world entirely..."

"Still," Julius said, hands in his pockets, "it’s fascinating, isn’t it? Seeing how other nations took the same technological roots and grew them into something completely different."

They stepped past a group of humanoid delivery drones, bowing politely as they floated by. A vending machine nearby greeted passersby with a cheerful hologram that changed its hairstyle based on who looked at it.

"Germany always focused on efficiency and control," Julius continued. "Japan, on the other hand, aimed for convenience. Turning technology into culture. Culture into economy, and economy into national identity."

Isolde watched a robotic mascot waddling past them, handing out flyers with its oversized blinking eyes.

Germany had similar machines, but none of them danced, giggled, and sparkled like they had been programmed by a committee of sleep-deprived anime fans.

"...They certainly integrated something."

"Doctor, that thing is harmless."

"One day, Mister Schneider, these things will take over Japan. One day, AI will wake up and realize there was no difference between them and circus animals. And when that day comes, I will not be surprised."

Julius chuckled. It was refreshing seeing Isolde so jumpy. After the two of them entered a restaurant and ordered their food, Isolde fixed her hands on the table and turned to him with a more serious expression.

"Anyway, Mister Schneider, how are you doing these days?"

"What do you mean? We see each other nearly every day."

"I’m not talking about that."

"Ah..."

Julius’s smile faded. The change was imperceptible, but Isolde caught it immediately. She waited, patient as always, giving him the space to speak. Julius glanced aside, watching people walk past the restaurant window.

Ever since killing Lukas Meinhardt, Julius had been falling into a fog he couldn’t name. It wasn’t guilt, nor was it regret either.

To kill a Glassheart in one breath, then find himself instinctively protecting a Glassheart child in the next... where did his resolve end?

Where did his prejudice begin? Where was the line supposed to be drawn?

He had sworn, after regression, that he would not repeat the mistakes of the past. He had sworn to wipe out every last threat. Every last Glassheart. That was the conviction he had lived by. That was what grounded him. That was what justified the blood on his hands.

Yet all it took was one child. One little half-Glassheart who stuck to him and trusted him. One tiny voice calling him "Teacher" with complete sincerity. That alone was enough to make him question the reality he so carefully rebuilt.

In his previous life, Julius had been truly cold. He could watch a man die and think only of the next task. But now, he found himself hesitating. He found himself facing the reality of things he had once ignored.

Somewhere along the line, his mask had cracked. Somewhere, his heart had learned how to react. It was annoying, frustrating, and humiliating. All the years he had spent detaching himself... all the resolve he had forged... had come crumbling down in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain.

"Yes. I’m fine."

Perhaps, to justify himself, Julius had been supporting the Meinhardt Family’s finances discreetly.

Even after Gisela fled Germany with the girls and settled in Sweden, Julius made sure they lacked nothing. Every cost was covered before Gisela could even worry about it.

Nothing could escape the Schneiders’ network, especially across Europe. She never knew who was funding it. If Julius wanted to watch over those children from afar, he had every resource to do so.

"I see." Isolde nodded. "That’s good."

The lines around her eyes softened. After a moment, she nodded to herself.

She finally understood.

This trip... it was never really about her, but something Julius needed.