"Hiss—!"
The long-haired high school girl sitting on the white fabric sofa winced, drawing a sharp breath through her teeth.
She lifted her bare right foot—she had taken off her black stockings—and her pale, delicate toes curled involuntarily from pain.
In front of her, the young man knelt on the floor, holding a cotton swab soaked in red antiseptic. He gently dabbed the medicine on the sole of her foot and muttered,
"You know... inviting a guy you've known for less than half an hour into your apartment? Bit reckless, don't you think?"
"Maybe," she said with a frown, her scraped feet twitching from the sting. "But that's only if you're actually human."
He froze mid-motion, eyes narrowing at her.
"Are you... calling me something else?"
"Don't take adjectives so personally, Mister God," she replied with a sigh that carried the unspoken words: Seriously? Still pretending?
"My assigned guide already told me everything she was allowed to."
She emphasized allowed, clearly hinting at a frustrating lack of information.
"Assigned guide?" he blinked. "Wait—what?"
System?
> [Your loyal divine attendant is always at your service~~ hearts hearts.jpg]
What do you mean "divine attendant"?! Since when?!
This so-called behind-the-scenes manipulator—who'd kicked off everything by nearly getting him killed, just to strong-arm him into accepting a mysterious deal—was now claiming to be his loyal assistant?
> [Indeed!]
> [Also, rest assured: even in the 0.01% chance of your sudden demise, your loyal servant has a full reincarnation protocol prepared. You'll be reborn in 18 years, no worries!]
> [And as for Lady Kasumigaoka's understanding of your identity? She's not wrong.]
> [The official designation of this system is the Pantheon Reboot Protocol. Your ultimate goal is to build a divine mythos with yourself at its center.]
> [So yes—"God." That tracks.]
"You're self-aware?" he asked, twitching slightly at the tone of the messages.
> [My intelligence depends on your subconscious. So I'm as safe as you are!~~ hearts hearts.jpg]
Not exactly comforting.
Just then, a pristine white foot wiggled right in front of his eyes.
Snapping back to reality, he instinctively grabbed it and applied the antiseptic with a swift stroke—perhaps a little too hard.
"Hiiisss!"
Kasumigaoka gasped again, actual tears welling in her eyes. It took her a moment to regain composure, and when she did, she glared at him.
"Was that your idea of bullying your 'fated follower,' oh mysterious god?"
"You can call me Lucien," he sighed, grabbing her other foot with a bit more care this time. "And what exactly do you know?"
"You're an ancient deity who's just reawakened," she said with a mischievous smile. "Discovered you have zero remaining followers in the modern world, and now you're trying to rebuild your pantheon. Only problem? Without believers, you've got no power left. Which is why you're stuck working part-time at a bookstore."
She added, quite smugly,
"Coincidentally, that bookstore's one I visit often. I've even held book signings there. Depending on your next shift, you might be calling me 'Kasushi-sensei' soon."
He gave her a flat look. "Titles, huh? Fine. Let me ask you something then, Miss Kasumigaoka from Class 2-B: how does a second-year student greet her upperclassman?"
She froze, squinting at him. "Lucien... wait... weren't you that violent transfer student from Class 3-A? The foreign exchange guy who punched out a senior on his first day?"
"So you do remember."
He capped the bottle and tossed the used cotton swab into the trash before pulling up a chair. "Shouldn't you be greeting your senpai properly, then?"
She grumbled under her breath, "Damn this archaic senpai-kouhai culture..."
Then bowed slightly and muttered,
"Hello, senpai. You've worked hard."
"Oh, and senpai?" she added with a sly smile. "How was your first experience caressing a maiden's toes?"
"Meh. Could be better."
He glanced at her curiously. "You seem awfully comfortable, considering we've known each other for less than an hour. Don't you think this is a bit much?"
Kasumigaoka paused, then gave him a strangely complicated look.
"Didn't your system explain? A divine follower is supposed to stay by their god's side for life."
Wait, what?!
He shot a quick question at the system and got an unsettlingly cheerful confirmation.
"That's... pretty fast acceptance, don't you think?" he asked, raising a brow.
She wiggled her now-treated foot and examined her skin—it had a soft, almost glowing quality to it, as if even her cells were rejuvenated.
"If the contract included things like living for 300 years, staying young forever, and gaining supernatural powers? I imagine people would be lining up all the way from my house to the Pacific Ocean."
"Especially if helping you ascend means immortality's on the table."
"This kind of stuff is literally the dream of ancient emperors and kings. I'm only human—it's hard to say no."
Though I really didn't expect to end up in a real-life "rescued-by-a-hero" trope... with me as the heroine, she silently added, blushing slightly.
Lucien leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Fine. I'll buy that."
"Anyway, you're patched up, and it looks like you're fine now. I should be—"
"Hold it," she cut him off, her eyes sparkling. "Aren't we going to discuss how to rebuild your divine order?"
He blinked, stunned. Why is she more excited than I am...?
Guess even gods get outpaced by their own followers.