Tyler left as soon as Michael looked at his phone again, the screen glowed with the notification he'd been waiting for:
[BACKGROUND REPORT: 100% COMPLETE!]
[MINAMOTO AIKO - CHARACTER ANALYSIS UNLOCKED!]
He tapped the alert. The app loaded a scroll-like interface, golden kanji burning against parchment. Aiko's name sat at the top, followed by stark, brutal stats.
[NAME: Minamoto Aiko]
[AGE: 19]
[REALM: Initiate Stage 1 (Locked)]
[CURRENT LOCATION: Northern Forest (Uncharted Territory)]
[STATUS: Exiled. Hunted. Disgraced.]
[CORE STATS (LOCKED):]
[Strength: 1]
[Agility: 1]
[Intelligence: 1]
[Endurance: 1]
[Spirit: 1]
[TALENTS (WIPED):]
[N/A]
[N/A]
[N/A]
[ACTIVE DEBUFFS:]
[Cursed Chains of Submission (Permanent)]
[Effect: All physical/mental stats reduced to 1. All combat skills and innate abilities locked. All Talents are wiped. Prevents growth.]
[Origin: Forbidden ritual cast by Sorecess Saeko at Himari's command.]
BACKGROUND:
Daughter of Minamoto Ryota, Daimyo of the Northern Provinces. Sister to Minamoto Himari, the current heiress to Ryota. Designated heir at age 12 after demonstrating unmatched swordsmanship and tactical genius. Accused of attempting to assassinate her father during the Autumn Feast (multiple eyewitnesses, including her sister Himari). Sentenced to imprisonment, then sold to the Crimson Teahouse.
Overall Prognosis:
"A broken doll awaiting final destruction. Without intervention, she will either die from assasins hunting her down, or taking her own life due to extreme suffering and depression."
Michael stared at the report. None of this made sense.
Aiko's loyalty to her father was obvious from how she spoke about honor earlier. Why would she suddenly try to kill him? And who the hell was this Himari?
He tapped the name [Himari] highlighted in red text.
[Himari Minamoto – Younger Sister]
[Status: Current Heiress to the Northern Provinces]
[Additional Intel Unlocked? $9.99]
"Of course it costs money," Michael muttered.
He tapped [Purchase Himari's POV – Limited Offer: $9.99].
[Remaining Balance: $1,088.07]
The screen dissolved into swirling smoke. When it cleared, Michael wasn't looking at a game menu anymore—he was inside a lavish bedroom.
The stench hit first—rotting flesh and herbal ointments.
Himari knelt beside her father's sickbed, silk robes pooling around her like blood.
Lord Ryota's chest rose and fell wetly, his skin mottled with angry red boils. Pus oozed from a ruptured abscess on his neck.
"Father," Himari pressed a damp cloth to the wound. "The healers say the infection spreads."
Lord Ryota coughed, yellow phlegm spattering the sheets. "Aiko… where…?"
Himari's jaw tightened. She dipped a silver spoon into a clay pot, scooping a glob of black salve. "Rest, Father. The traitor can't harm you now."
"Where is she now?" Ryota rasped. "Is she alive?"
"Mercy honors our house, father." Himari smeared salve over his boils, her movements precise. "We don't know her whereabouts."
"What a pity."
Lord Ryota groaned as Himari peeled back his bandages. The abscess pulsed, swollen with infection. Without flinching, she bent and pressed her lips to the wound.
Gag.
Pus flooded her mouth—hot, bitter, thick. She swallowed, resisting the urge to vomit. This is what the doctor had ordered to cleanse the lord's afflictions.
And she'd asked to do this personally.
"My brave girl," Lord Ryota wheezed, patting her hair.
"What the actual hell?!" Michael nearly dropped his phone.
Himari's lips were pressed against her father's festering wound, her throat bobbing as she swallowed the thick, yellow pus.
Lord Ryota's face was gray with pain, his bony fingers trembling in her hair.
The scene on Michael's phone made his stomach twist.
"My loyal daughter," he rasped, his voice like dry leaves crunching underfoot. "If only Aiko had your heart."
Himari pulled back, wiping her mouth with a silk sleeve. Her dark eyes glistened with fake tears. "Do not trouble yourself, Father. Sister's betrayal… it pains me too."
Lord Ryota coughed violently, flecks of blood dotting his pillow. "Why… why would she…?" His frail body shook as memories flashed in his watery eyes. "I raised her… loved her…"
"Father, do not be overburdened." Himari whispered, dipping a clean cloth into a bowl of murky water. She dabbed at his boils, her touch gentle. "My sister made the choice, not you."
Michael's grip tightened on his phone. "Why would the game even show this?" he muttered, but he couldn't look away.
Lord Ryota's labored breaths filled the air, and his eyes—cloudy with pain—drifted toward the ceiling. "Aiko… my Aiko…"
Himari set aside the pus-stained cloth and took her father's hand. Her voice softened, dripping with fake concern. "Father, please. You mustn't strain yourself."
Ryota's head lolled toward her. "Why… why did you think she betrayed me?"
"I don't know." Himari dabbed his feverish brow. "I cannot believe she'd harm you willingly."
Lord Ryota's breath hitched. "She… she looked at me with such hatred. My own daughter…"
Himari squeezed his hand. "Oh Father, how it wounds me to see you suffer! Let me bear this pain for you."
Before he could protest, she pressed her lips to another weeping boil on his arm.
Warm pus flooded her mouth—salty, rancid, clinging to her teeth like spoiled milk. She swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in her throat.
Michael gagged. The thick, yellow fluid glistened on her mouth as she pulled back.
"You… shouldn't…" Ryota wheezed, his skeletal fingers twitching in her hair. "Servants… can…"
"No one loves you as I do, Father." Himari pulled back, wiping her mouth with a practiced look of devotion. A single tear slid down her cheek—a perfect droplet of grief. "If sucking poison preserves your life, I'll drink oceans."
"My sweet child," Ryota rasped, tears cutting through the grime on his cheeks. "You alone remain loyal."
Himari demurely wiped her face. "I only pray Sister finds peace… wherever she is."
Lord Ryota's bony fingers tightened around Himari's wrist. "My time… grows short," he rasped, each word a struggle. "The clan… I leave it in your care."
Himari's eyes widened with perfectly shock. "Father, don't speak such words!" She pressed the damp cloth to his forehead. "You'll live to see a hundred winters. The healers say—"
"The healers lie." Ryota coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "I see the truth in their eyes. My body fails." His gaze drifted to the silk banner above his bed—the Minamoto crest, a red wolf howling beneath twin moons. "But our people… they'll thrive under you. You've proven… loyal."
Himari bowed her head. "Your faith honors me, Father. But I'm but a shadow of your wisdom. Without you…" She let her voice break.
A single tear splashed onto Ryota's trembling hand.
Before Ryota could reply, frantic footsteps echoed outside the room.
A servant slid the door open, sweat dripping down his face. "Lady Himari! Forgive the intrusion, but—"
"How dare you!" Himari whirled around, her gentle mask slipping for a split second. "Can't you see my father is resting?"
The servant dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor. "Apologies, my lady! But the northern scouts have returned with urgent news!"
Ryota lifted a trembling hand. "Go… tend to our people. That… is your duty now."
Himari hesitated, squeezing her father's fingers. "But Father, your health—"
"Obey… your lord."
Bowing deeply, Himari rose gracefully. Her silk robes whispered against the tatami mats as she followed the servant into the hallway.
The moment the sickroom door closed behind her, her posture changed—shoulders straightening, softness hardening into steel.