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Writing has always been my way of speaking to the universe, and knowing that you're out there, reading and supporting me, touches me deeply. Truly… thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
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You make my days brighter, my dreams closer, and my world more beautiful. Thank you so much for everything.
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The real estate agency was located in the heart of Kuoh, squeezed between a convenience store and a nekomimi-themed café.
The storefront was clean, with large glass windows displaying miniature models of homes in frames, captioned with phrases like "Perfect for families!", "Great school location!", and "Soundproofing at underground bunker level," the last one definitely catching Kazuya's attention.
Above the entrance, a simple kanji sign gleamed in the late afternoon light: "Harmonic Homes - Trusted Properties."
"Ironic name, considering my situation," Kazuya remarked to no one in particular, pushing the door open.
The interior was like one of those corporate cafés from doramas: minimalist, clean, with light wood accents and the faint aroma of green tea in the air. There was a simple reception, several tables with tablets displaying property photos, and at the back, a counter where a smiling woman in a cream-colored suit and a house-shaped brooch stood.
She rose with a perfect bow, as if trained by both a Shinto priestess and an Amazon salesperson.
"Good afternoon! Welcome to Harmonic Homes! I'm Sayuri, your agent today. How can I assist you?"
Kazuya returned the smile with his usual carefree vibe, hands in the pockets of the suit pants he'd bought for the occasion at a shop earlier, though he still carried his backpack, adding to his style.
"Hi, Sayuri-san. I'm looking for something… spacious. Like, *really* spacious. And insulated. Heavily insulated."
Sayuri assessed him for a second, her smile never wavering.
"I see. So something away from the city, more private? Perhaps with reinforced structure?"
"If it comes with explosion-proof sealing runes, even better," he said, deadpan.
Sayuri let out a light chuckle, thinking it was a joke.
Little did she know.
With a few quick taps on the tablet, she turned the screen toward Kazuya.
"And what about style? We have some traditional Japanese homes, some neoclassical mansions… or, if you're looking for something more exclusive, we have this…"
She swiped to an image that made Kazuya's gacha-loving heart race faster than a "Rainbow Spark" in a summon.
It was an American-style mansion, classic, with columns at the entrance, a wide porch, a massive garage, and a backyard garden that seemed tailor-made for lunar summons. Located on the outskirts of Kuoh, surrounded by a row of cherry blossom trees and no visible neighbors.
Isolated. Beautiful. Spacious. And best of all?
Walls thick enough to withstand at least one grumpy Ishtar firing off magical energy blasts.
"That one," Kazuya pointed, decided. "That's the house."
Sayuri smiled, pleased.
"A bold choice, Kazuya-san. We can schedule a visit today. Do you have time?"
Kazuya raised an eyebrow.
"Considering the alternative is going home and finding out who's hogging the couch this time… I have all the time in the world."
After sorting out a few more details, they set off.
No one at the agency, not even Sayuri, with her sharp eye honed from selling properties to politicians, businessmen, and a reformed yakuza who wanted "a peaceful corner," questioned Kazuya's age.
After all, with that physique, he could pass for a college athlete… or a bodyguard on sabbatical.
Courtesy of the body he got upon rebirth. Not to mention the strange aura—half intimidating, half comforting—that made people think twice before asking anything personal.
Sayuri simply assumed he was one of those eccentric young heirs, the type who buys mansions on a whim and has hobbies like "cultivating bonsai" or "bidding on historical relics at secret auctions."
Which, honestly… wasn't *that* far from the truth.
"This way, Kazuya-san," she said, opening the door to the agency's car, an immaculate black sedan. "The house is about fifteen minutes by car. You'll love it."
He nodded, getting in with ease.
As the car pulled away from downtown Kuoh, Kazuya leaned back and let out a sigh.
The car wound along a narrow road lined with cherry blossoms and bamboo groves, the kind of place that could make a monk enter a trance just by looking. It was as if the GPS had decided to trigger a seasonal spring event as they climbed the hills around Kuoh.
And then, in the middle of that melancholic anime-ending-worthy scenery… the mansion appeared.
Kazuya blinked.
Then blinked again.
Before him stood an American-style mansion, the kind you only see in movies or as a Sims background when you activate all the cheats. It had three stories, a sloped roof with arched windows, wide porches with white pillars, and wrought-iron balconies. It was surrounded by low walls covered in flowering vines and an automatic carved wooden gate that looked as secure as it was symbolic.
But what really stood out was the space around it: fields of well-kept grass stretching to the edge of a pine forest. In the background, mountains embraced the horizon like ancient guardians. A small lake glimmered to the right of the property, reflecting the golden afternoon sky.
"You didn't mention you were bringing me to Narnia, Sayuri-san."
Sayuri laughed delicately.
"Impressed? The property spans nearly three square kilometers. It includes the main house, a refurbished dojo, a garage for ten vehicles, two guest houses, and, well… absurdly high-quality spiritual energy, according to the monks who sold the land years ago."
Kazuya.exe crashed for a moment.
When he rebooted, he was already following her through the main entrance, a double dark-wood door with blue stained-glass panels that seemed to glow on their own.
The house was, in one word? Luxurious.
Polished hardwood floors, thick rugs that felt like they hugged your feet, spiral staircases with golden (okay, maybe bronze, but it looked like gold) railings, and massive windows that let light flood the rooms as if Apollo himself had designed them.
"Here's the main living room…" Sayuri said, guiding him through a hall with sofas large enough to fit a full roster of Servants (with extra space for Gilgamesh to stretch his legs). There was a stone fireplace, an eighty-inch TV on the wall, and a built-in bookshelf with more shelves than he'd have time to fill—challenge accepted.
"The kitchen is open, American-style…" she continued, moving to the next room. Marble countertops, noble wood cabinets, a fridge the size of a dimensional gate, and a central island that seemed made for events like "Shuten experiments with every fermented drink in the world."
On the second floor, more surprises: eight bedrooms, all furnished, each with a different style—modern, classic, rustic, even one themed with traditional Japanese art, with the largest being a king-sized suite, absurdly spacious and luxurious.
On the top floor? A double-height library with a skylight. And on the other side, a wide balcony with a direct view of the lake.
"This…" Kazuya took a deep breath. "This isn't just a house. It's a headquarters. A true luxury home…"
Sayuri smiled.
"So… interested?"
Kazuya turned slowly, crossed his arms, and with the most serious look he'd ever used outside of a fight against a furious deity, replied:
"Tell me where to sign…"
He could already see himself there: training in the dojo, reading in the library while Ishtar floated upside down, watching Shuten try to decorate the kitchen with sake barrels, and Eresh planting flowers in the garden…
But that was for the future.
Smiling at his response, Sayuri led him back to the main living room, where the documents were already laid out on an elegant coffee table next to a flower arrangement that probably cost more than the average lunch of Kazuya's predecessor for a month. She picked up a sleek silver pen, twirling it between her fingers with the precision of someone who clearly did this every day.
"Everything's ready here. Just sign at the bottom…" she said with that kind professional smile that knew the sale was sealed.
Kazuya took the pen, gave one last glance around—just out of reflex—and signed with ease. Then, with all the casualness in the world, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out…
A pink diamond.
Not just any gem. It was large. Radiant. Cut with almost mystical precision in a faceted shape. It had the soft hue of a summer sunset and sparkled with an intensity that seemed to emit its own light.
Sayuri froze.
The air stilled.
The universe glitched slightly.
"Here…" Kazuya said, as if handing over a meal voucher. "This should cover the house… twice. Use what you need to stock the pantry with food—lots of food, okay? Like, medieval castle stockpile levels. Also, get Wi-Fi installed, strong signal. The rest… keep for yourself…"
Sayuri opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
"W-w-w-wait… Is this a *real* pink diamond?"
"Of course," Kazuya said, recalling how he'd gotten it earlier from the man who felt morally compelled to give it to him due to his passive ability…
She choked, coughed lightly, nearly dropped the pen, then gripped it tighter as if it were a gold bar.
"O-of course! Of course, I… I'll arrange everything immediately! Fully stocked pantry! Fiber Wi-Fi! Can I… can I call a professional chef? Maybe two? A florist to theme the garden? A security company for anti… intrusion?"
Her eyes were already gleaming like Nami's when she sees a treasure map covered in dollar signs. She was pulling out her phone and making calls before Kazuya even finished adjusting his suit.
"Arigatou gozaimassssu, Kazuya-sama!" she practically sang, bowing at nearly a 90-degree angle.
Kazuya just shrugged, adjusting his backpack as if he'd just bought bread and not an elite sanctuary with top-tier security.
He turned to take in the view once more. The lake reflected the colors of the late afternoon as if the world were saying, "Good job, protagonist." The breeze gently swayed the trees, and in that exact moment, Kazuya smiled genuinely.
A new house.
Space for everyone.
And, for the first time in a long while… peace.
For now, at least.
Sayuri was about to turn and check the pantry measurements in the kitchen when Kazuya called out:
"Sayuri-san?"
She stopped instantly, her delicate heels echoing on the noble hardwood floor of the American-style mansion that looked straight out of a Hollywood film. She turned, still with that glint in her eyes that only appears when the payment is worth more than a year's salary.
"Yes, Kazuya-sama?"
He scratched the back of his neck, somewhat nonchalantly, as if about to ask for a trivial favor. Like, "Oh, can you water the plants?" Except it wasn't.
"I need you to pick up three… colleagues of mine. They're at my old apartment."
Sayuri blinked, a bit confused.
"Colleagues?"
"Yeah. They'll be living with me. They're kind of… eccentric. But good people…"
The agent took two seconds to process, then nodded. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd heard (she'd once sold a house to a guy who wanted soundproof walls because he "heard aliens when it rained").
Kazuya pulled a piece of paper from his backpack and scribbled the address in surprisingly neat handwriting. Then, he handed over the paper and his phone.
"Here's the address. And this is my number. Call me if there's any issue, like… if they take too long to answer or think you're a vacuum cleaner salesperson. They're a bit paranoid. But harmless, I promise…"
Sayuri took the paper and stored it with the care of someone who knows: "This client's a bit eccentric, but he pays with gemstones, so let's go all in."
"Got it. No problem. Any special instructions?"
"Just don't be startled by their personalities…"
Sayuri let out a nervous chuckle and replied:
"I've sold a house to a collector of life-sized dolls. Nothing scares me anymore…"
"That's… reassuring," Kazuya said with a half-smile. "Oh, and tell them I've already moved. So they feel comfortable coming with you…"
"Understood, Kazuya-sama. I'll have everything ready before the end of the day."
She turned with the lively stride of someone who'd just received a massive tip bonus and was off to complete the most curious side quest of the week. And off she went, heels clicking, crossing the vast garden with the mansion's keys and a gleam in her eyes, ready to deal with three mysterious women, hopping into the car and driving like a racecar driver.
Kazuya, meanwhile, watched the door close, let out a long, satisfied sigh, and flopped back onto the massive living room sofa, feeling the cool leather against his shirt.
He stayed there for a few minutes, sinking into the sofa like a warrior who'd survived the final dungeon and could finally rest his HP. The silence was so profound he almost wondered if Sayuri had taken the house's sounds with her.
With a sigh, he reached for the remote and pressed the TV button.
The screen lit up with a soft glow, and the logo of a local streaming service appeared with that satisfying jingle that only served to mask the fear of stumbling into another generic isekai.
He scrolled through the channels for a while. Doramas. Japanese variety shows with contestants screaming every two seconds. Ramen commercials. Until finally…
"Oh… an anime," he murmured.
The title flashed in bright letters: *Supreme Hero of Eternal Blade Academy!!*
The protagonist on the screen looked like a mix of Kirito and… Kirito with a blue wig. Flowing hair, perpetually half-closed eyes as if everything was profound, and, of course, a sword the size of a lamppost.
Kazuya hit play.
Five minutes later, his expression was that of someone betrayed by a boosted-rate banner.
"Seriously? He summons the sword by shouting 'Celestial Supreme Justice Limit Break'?" He threw his head back on the sofa. "This feels like a fanfic written by a slime with internet access."
The soundtrack was generic. The female characters had personalities ranging from "kitchen" to "walking explosion," and the fights were more filled with sound effects than actual impact.
The worst part? It was popular.
"My God… what happened to well-written anime? Aside from *Bleach*, *Pokémon*, and *Re:Zero*, I haven't seen anything like my old world. Where are the scenes that make you cry silently at three a.m. and question your existence?"
He crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the sofa.
"In my previous world, even idol anime had a script. This here feels so reliant on clichés it's likely to sprain its ankles tripping over the protagonist."
He watched a few more minutes out of sheer stubbornness and maybe a faint hope for improvement, until the "heroine" tripped and fell onto the protagonist with a gelatin sound effect.
Kazuya turned off the TV without a word. He just sat there for a moment, staring into space like someone who'd had a bad epiphany.
"Okay… I definitely need to import culture from my world. This won't do."
He got up, heading to the kitchen in search of something to eat, still with the bitter taste of TV disappointment.
But deep down, he laughed. Because, of course, in a world with demons, angels, and mythological gods dueling, the weirdest thing was the local anime being bad.
"Maybe I'll write a decent anime here…" he muttered. "*The Chronicles of the Gacha Master: The Otaku Who Faced the Gods*."
Hah. It'd be a hit.
With that absurd but dangerously tempting thought, he opened the fridge, hoping to find something to soothe the mental damage. But he was disappointed to see it was empty—right, he forgot the house was new. He cursed his idiocy, thankful at least that the lights worked and everything else was fine…
Back on the sofa, he tried putting on a movie to see if it was as bad as the anime in this world, waiting for his Servants to arrive, hoping there'd be no issues with Sayuri…