The long-awaited dinner time finally arrived.
Gojo dialed the phone—which acted like a Magic Conch Shell—and ordered a massive haul of high-calorie snacks and expensive imported desserts. Though he had plenty of food stockpiled in his inventory, why not indulge when he could feast on the "Winery's" dime?
Gin and the others ordered proper dishes and noodles. Sake, being considerate, ordered an extra portion of healthy food for Gojo, fearing he might literally eat himself to death on nothing but sweets. The chefs were highly efficient; in less than an hour, everything was delivered to the villa's door, fresh and hot.
20th-century delivery service? Five-star review.
"Aren't you afraid of getting diabetes, Satoru Gojo?"
Gin had been using his codename earlier, but he couldn't help using Gojo's real name when it came to mocking him.
Gojo, his mouth stuffed with cream cake, squinted his blue eyes contentedly. "Are you just jealous of my amazing appetite?"
Calvados and the others watched the mountain of snacks in front of him with genuine trepidation.
"When you're lying on a hospital bed begging me to end your life, I'll be sure to pull the plug for you," Gin replied, his venomous tongue not to be underestimated.
However, mid-meal, Gojo suddenly remembered something he had overlooked.
"By the way... Jin, you brat." He tilted his head, put down the potato chips in his hand, and stared intently at the youth with long, pale-golden hair.
Gin felt extremely uncomfortable under that direct gaze. "What now?"
"You've... never once called me 'Satoru'!" The boy with the exquisite face let out a wounded accusation. "I've been wanting to say this for a while. It's been three years! I started calling you by your name ages ago, but you refuse to call me 'Satoru' no matter what!"
Gin was speechless. "That's it?"
Gojo's eyes widened theatrically in disbelief. "What do you mean 'that's it'? You're being way too cold." He took a massive, spiteful bite out of a nut cake as if it were Gin himself. Actually, I still prefer Japanese sweets you can pop in your mouth all at once; they're much more satisfying than Western pastries.
"The friendship and time we shared these past few years... ultimately, the feelings were misplaced."
"...Who ever shared 'friendship' with you? In your dreams?"
Long accustomed to Gojo's frequent "drama king" outbursts, Gin grabbed the ordered nutritional vegetable bento and tossed it into the boy's lap. "Eat up," he said fiercely. "Don't blame me for not warning you if you end up with a terminal illness."
"Fine! If I get sick, I'm blaming you!"
The "Gojo-cat" was utterly ungrateful. He puffed out his cheeks in annoyance, shoved the healthy bento aside, and sulked while finishing his cake. Once done, he flopped onto the sofa and sprawled out to read manga.
He didn't acknowledge Gin for a full ten minutes. It was as if he was waiting for Gin to speak first.
"Kaiser?" Gin called out. No response. "...Satoru Gojo?"
"My, my~ I think a mosquito just flew past my ear." The white-haired youth yawned at the air and spoke to no one.
"..."
Calvados and Sake exchanged a look.
[Is this... a cold war?]
[It is. Definitely.]
Unused to a quiet Satoru Gojo and having no idea how to handle the situation, the two could only turn their gaze toward Gin, who was currently cleaning his firearms, trying to send a message with their eyes.
[Gin, if this continues, Kaiser-sama might actually stay mad...]
[Go on, soothe him!]
Gin understood this perfectly. Unlike other inconsequential people he could threaten at will, Gojo not only possessed a level of strength he could hardly surpass but was also the person he was least equipped to deal with. He couldn't win a fight, and he couldn't scold him—at least, not too harshly.
Fortunately, while the guy seemed incredibly high-maintenance, he was actually quite easy to please if you "brushed his fur" the right way. Having been roommates for three years, Gin knew this well.
"Stop messing around, Satoru." He finally chose to compromise.
Hearing that, Gojo finally stopped sulking. He flashed a mischievous grin. "Bingo~ Password correct!"
"Then eat the vegetable bento," Gin said ruthlessly.
This was a scene that had played out many times over the past few years. Gojo ate very few vegetables on the island, while junk food went into his stomach daily. If he really died of a terminal illness due to poor nutrition, the Boss certainly wouldn't be happy.
Yes, that's the only reason. It's definitely not because I don't want Gojo to die young, Gin told himself.
"Huh? My ears suddenly stopped working. What did you say... mmmph!" Vegetables were unceremoniously stuffed into his mouth.
Calvados and Sake sat at the dining table eating silently, communicating through glances.
[They really get along well.]
[Yeah, they must be the best of friends.]
Sake, in particular, seemed to recall certain manga plots again; tears began to sparkle dramatically in her eyes.
Overall, the meal was quite harmonious. Despite having barely spoken a word to each other back at the training camp, playing games together in the room had made them familiar very quickly. Living together no longer felt particularly awkward.
Before they knew it, night had fallen. The group returned to their respective rooms, planning to rest early. Today felt like it had been packed with a lifetime of events. The final exam, meeting the Boss, receiving codenames, being granted a vacation, and following Vermouth to the villa... what a full day.
A full moon hung in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the magnificent villa, draping it in a transparent veil. Gojo turned off the living room lights and let out a lazy yawn. Even with his superhuman stamina, he was finally feeling a bit fatigued.
Seeing the others go to bed, he planned to return to his room and put the gaming console and manga back into his inventory to avoid any questions from Vermouth. Fortunately, there were no cameras in the rooms—and even if there were, he wouldn't mind destroying them.
With everyone silent, the interior of the massive villa became deathly still. It was the kind of eerie quiet that made a child think a ghost was perched on a dark coat hanger.
Suddenly, he sensed a dark figure approaching the villa. It wasn't close enough yet to determine who it was. A heavy set of footsteps broke the silence of the night. After a short while, the footsteps abruptly stopped.
The person was standing right in front of the large villa doors, motionless.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Three knocks echoed through the night.
Someone had arrived.
Gojo didn't alert the others. He simply walked over slowly and pulled the door open. The creak of the door was loud in the silent air.
He was greeted by the muzzle of a pitch-black handgun.
"Don't move, kid."