Aiko pressed her palms to the cold stone floor.
No pain.
She flexed her wrist that had been bent sideways for three days.
Straight.
Breathing deep brought no stabbing agony - her ribs felt like they'd never been cracked by the overseer's bamboo rod.
This… This cannot be…
"Kami-sama? Are you here?"
A sense of wonder, gratitude, and sheer awe filled her body. All of her injuries suffered in this hellhole by the hands of the most despicable men she'd ever seen, were…
Gone. In an instant.
This simply cannot be the handiwork from a mortal man. No… this is a miracle… and only gods perform miracles.
Her remaining eye (the right one still swollen shut from yesterday's beating) darted around the dungeon. Rats fled from the puddle of golden light fading near her feet.
Michael almost dropped his phone.
Her voice was too real. Like she was sitting at the foot of his hospital bed instead of existing in some pixelated fantasy.
He jabbed the volume button down before nurses could hear.
The screen showed new pop-ups:
[DAILY DEAL! Feed Aiko for $2.99! ]
Michael's own empty gut twisted in sympathy. He glanced at the untouched hospital tray - cold mashed potatoes and pasta that tasted like cardboard. Three days until his next meal voucher.
"Hey," he said aloud, then felt stupid. It's not like she could hear him.
But when he tapped the "Feed" option, the screen reacted.
[$2.99 Charged−Remaining Balance: $1,208.02]
Golden light burst from a rusted ceiling pipe above Aiko's cage.
She screamed - a raw, animal sound - as a wooden bento box clattered to the floor. The lid fell open, releasing steam and the rich smell of grilled eel.
Aiko's nostrils flared even as she pressed herself against the cage's far wall.
Saliva flooded her mouth—her first real meal in days—but her fingers dug into the rotted straw beneath her.
However, before she thought about downing the meal as if she was a savage beast, she thought about the possibility of maybe this is just another elaborate trick to make her suffer even more.
Kindness always did in the Teahouse.
She'd seen it before: a warm bath offered to new girls, only for the water to be drained as patrons bid on their trembling nakedness. A "gift" of makeup before clients arrived to peel it away with their teeth.
This was new. New in the sense that the great power demonstrated through what she had experienced was much greater. Only a truly powerful onmyōji, a magician, can weild such power.
Normally, she wouldn't doubt for an instant that what happened to her was from a benign being, but after what her own sister had done to her…
Doubts stirred within her hearts.
Her stomach growled, but she bared her own teeth at the steaming box. Whatever spirit this was, it wanted something worse than her death.
Michael's mouth watered. Real hospital food hadn't smelled that good in weeks.
Aiko crawled backward until her matted black hair pressed against the bars.
"No."
"Damn it, just eat!" Michael growled. He poked the bento box on screen. His finger passed through digital rice grains.
A notification flashed:
[Companion must accept gifts voluntarily!]
[New Player ONE-TIME ONLY EXCLUSIVE Gift!]
[Limited communication temporarily unlocked!]
[Choose from the following options:]
[A: Chide her.]
[B: Encourage her.]
[C: Take the food back.]
[D: Enter free response (Locked).]
"Since when do games care about consent?" Michael muttered. But his thumb hovered over the "Encourage" button that appeared.
Aiko flinched when glowing text appeared in the air before her:
[Eat. ]
She stared at the floating voices. Michael saw her throat move as she swallowed. The eel glaze glistened.
"Who are you?" she demanded, voice trembling. "Do you wish to heal me, feed me, so that you can torture me even more?"
Michael tapped blindly, not knowing what else to do.
Aiko coughed. "Show yourself! Stop these ghost tricks!"
The status window blinked urgently:
New pop-up:
[WARNING! Companion may self-terminate in 10 minutes!]
Michael's stump arm throbbed. He knew that sinking feeling - staring at the outfield fence as the doctor said "compound fracture," understanding your entire life just ended.
He jabbed the "Encourage" button harder.
[You're safe.]
Aiko's remaining eye narrowed. "Safe? In a whorehouse cage?" She grabbed the bento box lid. "What do you want? My body? Soul?"
Michael's finger hovered. What did the game want? He clicked [Encourage again]:
[Live.]
The girl laughed again, but quieter. Her stomach growled louder. The eel steamed between them.
After ten full seconds, she snatched a rice ball so fast Michael almost missed the movement. She crammed it into her mouth like a feral dog, choking sounds mixing with sobs.
Michael exhaled.
The clock beside his bed read 2:17 AM. His pain meds had worn off hours ago, but he kept watching as Aiko devoured.
She licked the last grains of rice from her fingers. The eel's sweetness still lingered on her tongue. For the first time in weeks, her stomach didn't claw at itself.
She pressed a hand to her ribs—no pain, no cracks. The golden light had seared through her wounds like divine fire.
Kami-sama. The word stuck in her throat.
But Kamis didn't feed prisoners. They didn't heal broken things. Not here. Not in the Crimson Teahouse.
Footsteps echoed down the dungeon corridor—heavy boots, jangling keys. Aiko stiffened. She shoved the empty bento box into a corner and covered it with straw.
The door slammed open.
Two men strode in—Overseer Kuroda, his bald scalp gleaming under torchlight, and Guard Taro, a brute with knuckles scarred from breaking teeth.
"Look who's still breathing," Kuroda sneered. His gaze crawled over her. "Boss said to check if you've finally learned your place."
Taro rattled the cage lock. "Or if we gotta sell you to the fighting pits. Bet you'd last three seconds with no arms."
Aiko stayed silent. Silence had kept her alive through five auctions, three branding irons, and the night they'd shattered her ribs for kicking a client's groin.
Kuroda leaned closer.
"What's this? No fresh bruises?" He squinted at her face. "Swelling's gone too."
Panic flickered in Aiko's chest. The golden light had erased every mark.
Taro frowned. "Smells like… grilled eel?" He kicked the straw pile. The bento box tumbled out.
"Stole from the kitchens?" Kuroda snatched the box. "Who helped you? That rat-faced dishwasher?"
Aiko's mouth moved before she could stop it.
"Kami-sama helped me."