"I have important things to do today, so I won’t talk to you any longer. Do you know about Misaki-senpai?"
"Oh, you mean Misaki?" Chihiro responded, sounding a little distracted. "I heard she’s been having conflicts with Jin lately."
Then, suddenly suspicious, she asked, "Wait a second, why the sudden interest? You’re not planning to make a move on Misaki, are you?"
Shiro sighed. "Come on, Teacher Chihiro, don’t create drama out of nothing."
"But it’s true that Misaki-senpai is with me now. She brought all her luggage and said she’s staying over for a few days. I thought I’d let you know first, so it doesn’t cause any misunderstandings later."
There was a brief silence from the other end before Chihiro finally let out a sigh. "Honestly... Jin is such a handful. Always making things unnecessarily complicated."
"I get it. But don’t spread this around, alright? The last thing we need is rumors."
Shiro rolled his eyes. "Who would I even tell?"
"...Fair enough," Chihiro admitted.
"Alright then, I’ll leave it to you. But I’m warning you, don’t try anything funny with Misaki."
"Yes, yes, I hear you. You’re so long-winded. Maybe worry more about your own life, okay?"
Back on her end, Chihiro scowled. "That brat!"
The next morning, Misaki was clearly not in the best shape, likely from a late-night gaming session. By the time Shiro finished his call, she had already turned in for the night. Kanna returned to her room soon after finishing up in the bathroom.
Later that night, Shiro quietly slipped into the shadows and made his way to Akihiro Kano’s underground lab. He was determined to refine his body transformation technique.
He burned through four ghoul samples in a single night—yet still saw no meaningful progress.
The problem wasn’t lack of resources, but precision. One wrong move, and the result wouldn’t be transformation, but grotesque failure. Sloppy work would only leave behind twisted flesh.
But Shiro wasn’t discouraged. If mastering this secret art were easy, it wouldn’t be hidden within the Cthulhu Original Codex.
By the time he emerged from the lab, dawn was already breaking. He rubbed his temples to ease the throbbing headache from intense mental strain.
After instructing Kanou to clean up the lab, he made his way back home.
To his surprise, Misaki had prepared breakfast. She insisted on cooking as payment since she wasn’t paying rent. Shiro didn’t object—Misaki’s food was a nice change from Nino’s often overly bento-centric meals.
After eating together warmly, Misaki left for school, and Shiro decided to skip today’s classes. He had received a message from Machida Sonoko and was planning to discuss illustrator candidates with her. With Kanna tagging along, he headed to the library once more.
Having visited the library twice before, the receptionist recognized Shiro and greeted him with a warm smile, even offering fresh coffee without being asked.
At the table, Machida Sonoko was finishing a phone call. Kasumigaoka Utaha was sitting beside her, sipping quietly. Upon seeing Shiro, Utaha offered a polite nod.
"Sorry, Teacher Sakamaki," Machida said after hanging up. "I still have some business to handle. Could you wait in the reception room for a moment?"
"No problem. I’ll head over right away."
He gestured toward Kanna. "This is my roommate. Is it alright if she comes too?"
Sonoko smiled at the dragon-girl hiding behind him. "Of course. As long as you’re okay with it, Teacher Sakamaki."
Before leaving, she handed over a file. "I’ve prepared a list of potential illustrators. Want to take a look?"
Although Shiro had initially intended to do the illustrations himself, he had to admit his style lacked the polish and expressive fluidity needed for a professional release. It was creative, sure—but too mechanical.
He accepted the list, eyes skimming over names.
Some unfamiliar ones followed. Then—
A quiet laugh escaped him. Using her real name, huh?
He immediately recalled the golden-haired girl with dull expressions and enchanting, rose-colored eyes. A true genius, but utterly aloof.
As he flipped through the portfolios, he could tell right away:
Eri Kashiwagi and Eromanga-sensei both had exceptional art, focused on girls. But despite attempts to tone it down, a distinct erotic undertone lingered in the work.
The others were good but forgettable.
It wasn’t even a contest. Her illustrations were ethereal, refined, elegant. The lines were impossibly fluid, the eyes full of life, and the whole composition shimmered with emotion.
"Editor Machida," Shiro asked with a grin, "this Mashiro-sensei—could she be the same Shiina Mashiro from Abroad?"
Machida nodded. "That’s right. Though I’m not sure why she suddenly wanted to draw for light novels, she asked for help, and I got her added to the list."
"But if you want to choose her, there are a few things you need to consider."
"First, she didn’t like light Novels at first, I mean. You probably figured that out."
"Second, her style might be too elaborate. It doesn’t perfectly match your novel’s tone. Too gorgeous, not enough restraint."
Shiro looked again and couldn’t deny it. Mashiro’s pieces were almost too vibrant—like they belonged in an art gallery rather than a light novel.
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