Miss Hebe Is Fighting Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

Hebe unceremoniously claimed the two rooms.

She set up her computer in the bedroom facing the sea, then temporarily piled the miscellaneous belongings in the room next door.

The computer booted up, and the dark green desktop came back into view.

The Secret History Simulator had finished updating.

"Secret History Simulator welcomes your login, Knower. Current version: 1.1."

"The current simulator version has updated with new content and added several functions."

"New content: Lostbelt—Chronicles of the Far Eastern Fox Demon: Sword of the gods' Procession Preview"

"In the gaps between dreams, the Shogun and Imperial Monarch who ruled the Eastern Kingdom awakened once more. They slew the last dragon in the world, yet they did not do it merely for this country. Bathed in overflowing moonlight, swordsmen gathered and battled for the title of peerless for a thousand years, yet their purpose was far more than that... Across different eras, many people had seen the legendary fox demon capable of granting any wish."

On the dark green desktop, a new card waited quietly, painted with a "full moon and fox tail."

When she clicked the card, more text appeared.

"This Lostbelt is divided into three parts: upper, middle, and lower. The Completion Rate of each part does not interfere with the others. Only after one has been fully completed will the next stage unlock."

"This Lostbelt has received special attention. Multiple deaths will lower the final rating!"

Hebe raised her long brows.

Although the Secret History Simulator had not prohibited her from repeatedly gathering information, this warning was tantamount to telling her that trial and error would not work.

Of course, that was not a problem. For Hebe as she was now, merely clearing it was not enough. What she wanted was a perfect clear.

The Secret History Simulator had no so-called standard for perfection. Whether it was perfect or not depended solely on whether Hebe found it satisfying.

To be fair, the first half of the Egyptian Lostbelt had largely consisted of repeated trial and error, and that process had hardly been pleasant.

Of course, Hebe had ultimately returned that torment to the Red King, so it had still been rather satisfying.

"Hope it's fun."

Full of anticipation, Hebe clicked the Lostbelt card, only to discover dejectedly that it was still on cooldown.

Fortunately, this update to the Secret History Simulator had brought more than just a preview. It had also added a new feature capable of solving her most urgent problem.

"For a long period of time, the authority of the Silent Bookstore was exercised on its behalf by the Island Council. They elected an administrator to represent the collective will of the council. Now that the master of the Silent Bookstore has returned, the council will no longer possess authority, nor will its administrator.

"However, if you are willing, the council still has value in existing. They will become an extension of your will and handle small matters you ordinarily have no time to attend to."

Rebuilding the Island Council would not be difficult. As the lord of Blanckug, Hebe had the authority to appoint and dismiss council members at will.

Only the position of administrator still required the consent of the Silent Bookstore itself.

Hebe unscrewed her fountain pen, spread out a sheet of writing paper, and wrote down her requirements: young and pragmatic, hardworking and resilient, responsible, well educated, morally upright, possessing a certain degree of organizational ability and strong initiative...

As she was nearly done, Hebe remembered the pile of instruments in the Silent Bookstore and hurriedly added at the end of the letter: "Must have received professional musical training and possess a solid understanding of music theory."

After thinking it over several times, she found nothing missing.

Following the prompt on the computer screen, Hebe sealed the letter and tossed it into the fireplace.

"This process feels a little like an open recruitment drive..." Hebe thought. I wonder what kind of employee these criteria will select.

She returned to her desk and saw that a new card had already appeared on the dark green desktop.

Hebe silently praised the Secret History Simulator's efficiency, wondering what talents this new employee possessed.

But on the dark green desktop, a translucent box hovered in the air, its countdown hand slowly turning.

—Someone was coming.

Shoko

Some theories held that when a butterfly on the other side of the ocean flapped its wings, it could create a storm in the rainforests of another continent.

Throughout its long history, the Silent Bookstore had been a rather restless butterfly, always dedicated to influencing the entire apprentice community. Every decision it made could shake the order of the hidden world.

The administrators throughout the generations all had some harmless hobbies. Most of the time, those hobbies remained on a personal level. However, there were exceptions.

Among the twelve administrators, the eighth had come from Cathay. Her surname was Xue.

Miss Xue's family head had been known in Cathay as an Imperial Merchant, serving Cathay's emperors for generations. When her family fell, Miss Xue crossed the sea with an enormous fortune and became the treasurer of the Island Council.

Even after Miss Xue became the administrator elected by the council, she never stopped managing her wealth. Over the centuries, that immense and ever-growing sum had become a terrifying torrent in the market. No individual or organization could trace its origins, and anything that stood in its path would vanish into nothing.

After the two world wars, it multiplied still further, its boundaries and end becoming impossible to calculate.

It became countless lines on the stock market, numbers circulating through countless private accounts. Even the enormous financial lifelines of multinational military-industrial and medical-industrial complexes were merely a tiny fragment of it.

Conventional means could not control it, but unconventional means could, though the Silent Bookstore had never done so.

It was like a dormant dragon, moving through the capital markets by instinct. The slightest twitch could shake the entire world.

Those with courage could profit from it.

Time rewound to one month earlier.

Eastern Kingdom, Tokyo.

Cold sweat streamed from the man's temples, but he had no time to wipe it away.

His tailored suit jacket had been casually draped over the chair back. He tugged at the tie around his neck, feeling as though he were about to suffocate.

His eyes were fixed on the electronic screen, and every few minutes, he clicked refresh.

A sinister green line plunged straight downward, with no possibility of ever rising again.

"No way... This has to be a lie, right? I made so much before..."

His phone rang, and he answered it with trembling hands.

A crisp female voice sounded from the other end. "Mr. Toyokawa, the capital flow from that investment has already been cut off. If you withdraw now and cut your losses, it is not too late."

"How am I supposed to withdraw?" The young head of the Toyokawa Zaibatsu roared hysterically. "I scattered the investment money across several hundred accounts. It's impossible to pull all of it out now!"

"I warned you long ago, Mr. Toyokawa." The voice on the other end was cold. "Watch your language. I am not your employee, merely your partner—and as of this moment, that relationship is over."

"Hello? Hello? Nagasaki!"

The call was disconnected, leaving only the busy signal.

Toyokawa Kiyotsugu collapsed into his chair in a daze.

His wife had passed away half a year ago. After that, Toyokawa Kiyotsugu's status as a son-in-law became extremely awkward. To secure his position, he had desperately wanted to achieve something and prove that he was still capable of commanding the enormous Toyokawa Zaibatsu.

Yet reality was like a cold, towering wall. Toyokawa Kiyotsugu could no longer command anyone.

The entire zaibatsu had collectively sidelined him. More precisely, his elderly yet still formidable father-in-law had taken his authority back.

Just as Toyokawa Kiyotsugu was on the verge of going mad, he used his connections to contact a woman named Nagasaki. She seemed to work in finance as well, and after their second meeting, she pointed him toward a major opportunity.

"Hasn't the market for reimagining historical figures been booming in recent years?" Miss Nagasaki had said. "Money has been flowing into it nonstop. I want to enter the market too, which is why I came to work with you."

After conducting careful research, Toyokawa Kiyotsugu found her reasoning sound and decisively entered the market with her.

In just over a month, he had made a fortune, stunning everyone in the Toyokawa Family.

Then, not long ago, Miss Nagasaki had called to say that she was cashing out and leaving.

"I can sense that enormous capital flow withdrawing..." Miss Nagasaki had said somewhat mysteriously. "Perhaps it is only an illusion, but I do not want to gamble on it. I have already earned enough for my daughter and me to live on for the rest of our lives. Knowing when to quit while ahead is what matters."

"Do as you please." At the time, Toyokawa Kiyotsugu had been immersed in that feeling of omnipotence. Like a gambler on a winning streak, he had no desire to withdraw just like that.

He had even used his connections to swallow up the gap left behind by Miss Nagasaki's exit.

—If someone could view the entire situation, they would realize that this enormous capital flow had withdrawn on the very day Hebe began simulating the Egyptian Lostbelt.

What followed took a sharp turn for the worse.

The capital flow from the Silent Bookstore withdrew at lightning speed, taking all of Toyokawa Kiyotsugu's assets with it. Even if he threw his entire body into the massive hole, it would be no more than a drop in the bucket.

Toyokawa Kiyotsugu recalled the glory of recent days and let out a nervous laugh.

It was over. For him, everything was over.

He staggered toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze falling on the bustling city streets below. The crowds surged like a tide, and the square was filled with banners so bright they hurt his eyes.

Jump. Jump. Just jump down like this, die, and be done with it all!

Toyokawa Kiyotsugu swayed unsteadily, the cold wind numbing his mind. If he died, who would care? Who would mourn him?

His parents? No, they would not care.

That father-in-law who worshipped the Otogiyama Ogre King? He would only coldly curse him as useless. In his eyes, only someone who died standing like that Ogre King could be called a true man.

His wife, Mizuho, perhaps would have cared, but she was already dead.

"Dad!"

Hurried footsteps sounded outside, followed by the door being flung open with force.

Toyokawa Kiyotsugu turned his head numbly and saw a slender figure standing at the doorway.

The girl looked anxious, with traces of rainwater still on her shoulders.

"Shoko..." He forced out a dry smile, but before he could finish, that nightmare of an old man appeared in the doorway as well.

The old man's expression was cold and contemptuous.

"What are you doing? Trying to die and be done with it all? Drag him down!"

The security guards behind him rushed forward, yanking Toyokawa Kiyotsugu away from the window and pinning him to the ground.

Toyokawa Kiyotsugu began to cry weakly. He had not expected that he lacked even the courage to die, much less that his daughter would witness this scene.

If being dragged down by the old man was already humiliation beyond measure, then being seen by his daughter Shoko was the ultimate humiliation for Toyokawa Kiyotsugu.

As Toyokawa Shoko watched her father collapse on the floor, sobbing, it felt as though jagged rubble had filled her heart.

"You have no reason to remain in the Toyokawa Family any longer." The old man delivered his cold verdict. "I will repay this debt for you. Consider it the last time I clean up Mizuho's mess...!"

The old man looked at Toyokawa Shoko. "Shoko, a man like this cannot shoulder responsibility or your life. Forget him, and become my daughter instead... I will raise you as I raised Mizuho."

Though this clarity was a pain too harsh for a child, it was still better than the endless entanglement and torment that would follow.

Let Me See!

"No."

Toyokawa Shoko heard her lips and teeth move, forcing out a cold refusal from the depths of her body.

She had even thought it was her soul answering, but she quickly realized that it was her own voice.

Toyokawa Shoko rejected her grandfather's proposal. She walked over, took hold of the limp man's arm, and supported him.

"Father, let's go."

The old man's lips trembled. Behind his back, his left hand clenched around his right wrist.

He merely sighed in a low voice. "Go? A young lady like you thinks there is anywhere left for you to go?"

But the old man ultimately said no more. He watched Toyokawa Shoko's slender figure with the gaze unique to an elder in his twilight years, his eyes heavy upon her.

There was not much severity in that gaze. More than anything, it was steeped in sorrow.

He did not stop Toyokawa Shoko, nor did he have anyone help her. He simply watched as she supported that useless man and slowly left the skyscraper through a side entrance.

"So alike, so very alike." The old man sighed and sat down in his chair. Yet that weak posture lasted only an instant. When he raised his head again, his expression had returned to cold severity and resolute endurance.

"How much does that useless thing owe, exactly? Pay it all off."

The old man's command received no response. Looking over, he saw his trusted subordinate standing before Toyokawa Kiyotsugu's computer, trembling.

A sense of foreboding welled up inside him. The old man walked over and pushed his subordinate aside. As he saw the constantly shifting data, the color slowly drained from his face.

The old man had never imagined that Toyokawa Kiyotsugu could dig such an enormous hole—if he had merely owed a huge debt to one person or organization, that would have been simple enough. But to prove his ability, Toyokawa Kiyotsugu had split the funds among several hundred accounts for risk hedging...

"Just how much does the Toyokawa Family owe now?" After a long silence, the old man finally asked.

His trusted subordinate's gaze flickered away as he reported an astronomical figure far beyond imagination.

Born into privilege and blessed with outstanding talent, Toyokawa Shoko's easy life had once stretched before her feet like an amber-colored carpet.

But those old days were gone. Everything Toyokawa Shoko had known ended here.