The hallway lights dimmed automatically as they walked, leaving only soft footstep echoes between them. Kaito followed his father in silence, still replaying the conversation they'd just had.
"There's something you need to see," his father had said.
As they passed the side corridor near the atrium, a young maid greeted them with a polite bow. Two servants briskly moved a tray of documents toward the meeting hall. Outside the dining room, the family's aged butler — gray-haired, back straight as a blade — gave a respectful nod to Kaito.
He still remembered the man's name. Gou Ryuzo.
A Rank 2 high-level martial artist who had served the family since his grandfather's prime. His loyalty was unquestionable. His son now trained at the family's own martial arts academy, taught by Kaito's second uncle.
Even a weak family, it seemed, still had its roots.
They stopped at a sliding wooden door lined with engraved gold trim. The plaque above it read simply:
"House of Knowledge."
His father pressed his hand to the scanner. A gentle click followed.
The door opened, revealing the family library.
It wasn't large.
Three shelves lined the walls, one table in the center, a couple of softly glowing overhead lamps. No spiritual locks, no embedded runes. Everything was analog. Humble.
And yet... precious.
Kaito stepped inside with quiet reverence.
"This," his father said, "is the heart of what we've built."
He moved toward the center, placing a hand over one of the worn wooden shelves.
"Not wealth. Not power. Just knowledge... collected across two generations."
Kaito's eyes moved across the room.
Basic cultivation methods for Rank 1 and 2 progression.
A few technique scrolls — Falling Leaf Fist, Swift Iron Step, and a well-kept one labeled Crimson Willow Sword Form.
Atop the desk were herbology scrolls — recipes for nutrient baths, detoxifiers, wound healing pastes.
It wasn't much by the standards of major families.
But to Kaito, it was the sum of effort, sacrifice, and belief.
"I used to laugh at this place," Kaito admitted. "Thought it was pointless, a library full of scraps."
His father chuckled. "You weren't wrong. Compared to the Grand Archives of the Silver Clans, this is... a cave in the forest."
He turned, expression serious now.
"But every family starts in a cave. And those who forget their roots? They get buried with them."
Kaito placed a hand on one of the scrolls — the sword form he had once ignored in favor of flashier techniques online.
"You gathered all this with no backing. No title. No land rights. Just... quiet persistence."
His father nodded.
"And now, it's yours."
Kaito inhaled slowly.
This time, he wouldn't waste it.
As they returned from the library, the scent of roasted garlic and ginger filled the hallway.
"Smells like Aika convinced your grandmother to make stew again," his father muttered with a half-smile.
The dining room was already full by the time they arrived.
Maids quietly set the final dishes. The butler stood beside the drink station, overseeing the placements with his usual silence. A few of the cousins were already digging into appetizers despite Grandmother's repeated warnings.
Aika waved as Kaito entered, patting the empty seat next to her.
"Finally! I thought the two of you vanished into a scroll."
"We did," Kaito said, grinning. "One labeled 'parental wisdom.'"
Laughter scattered around the table.
"So that's why you look so serious," one of the cousins added. "Did you just inherit the family or something?"
"He did," their father said calmly, seating himself. "And I'll be announcing it shortly."
That quieted the table fast.
Aika nudged Kaito under the table and whispered, "Nice timing."
Dinner passed in warmth and laughter.
Even the usually grumpy Third Uncle seemed a bit more relaxed — until he spoke.
"I still think it's too early," he said flatly, setting his chopsticks down. "With all due respect, elder brother, we're placing our future on someone who ran away when the family needed him most."
The mood stiffened slightly.
Kaito didn't look away.
"You're right," he said, voice steady. "I left because I was immature. I thought chasing personal glory mattered more than standing with my family."
He looked around the table.
"I made mistakes. I won't erase them with promises. But I will move forward — and I'll earn your trust again."
Third Uncle didn't respond immediately.
A silence followed.
Then — unexpectedly — Third Uncle gave a low grunt and looked away.
"Hmph. You'd better not. I don't want to carry this family through another mess."
But Kaito smiled faintly.
Because he knew.
His third uncle wasn't narrow-minded — just loud. He always spoke his thoughts, even if it came off harsh. But he had never abandoned the family. In fact, in Kaito's past life, he had stood behind him when the world turned away.
At the head of the table, Grandfather cleared his throat.
"I've already stepped down. My son made his decision. I stand by it."
Grandmother added, "So long as you don't forget who you are, Kaito, I believe in you."
One by one, the others nodded.
Even the quietest cousin raised his cup in toast.
"To our new family head."
"To Kaito."
After dinner, as the family relaxed with tea and fruit, Kaito's father stood and made the official announcement.
"From this day forward," he said, "Kaito will take the role of acting family head. All decisions made in his name carry the weight of mine."
No objections.
No whispers.
Only a room full of people — small in number, limited in power — showing unity.
Later that night, Kaito returned to his room, stepping through the familiar wooden door.
It still looked like a high schooler's quarters.
Books stacked awkwardly. Practice swords near the bed. A faded poster of a martial tournament. The window was cracked open, letting in the night breeze.
He walked over to the desk.
Two framed photographs sat under the lamp.
One: the full family portrait — twelve people in coordinated robes, smiling against the backdrop of the summer field.
The other: a young Mei Rin, standing beside him during their first sword sparring ceremony, both holding a wooden blade and wearing garlands of red thread around their wrists.
She had called him "Captain of the future" that day — laughing because he had tripped and dropped the sword mid-swing.
He traced the edge of the frame with his thumb.
"Mei Rin... you won't have to cry this time."
A gentle knock on the door.
"Come in."
His mother entered, holding a tray of sliced fruit and warm tea.
"Thought you might want something," she said.
She placed the tray on the table and sat beside him, her eyes naturally falling on the photo of him and Mei Rin.
"I remember this," she said softly. "You came home with a scraped elbow and an even bigger grin."
"She beat me."
"I know. She told me proudly."
They shared a small laugh.
Then silence.
Until she looked at him, eyes glinting with concern.
"Kaito... are you sure you want to carry all this alone?"
He turned to her.
"I'm not alone."
He looked at the photo of his entire family again.
"I never was. I just forgot."
She reached up and brushed his hair aside.
"That's all I needed to hear."
She kissed his forehead gently, stood, and walked out of the room without another word.
Kaito turned to the window and leaned against the frame.
The night sky was quiet.
Somewhere beyond those stars, he knew, the countdown had already begun.
Ancient ruins buried beneath cities.
Portals built from alien technology.
Secrets scattered across both virtual and real worlds.
This time... he would be ready.
"This time, no one gets to steal what we've earned."
He lay down on the bed, one hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling with calm, unwavering eyes.
Tomorrow, everything would begin.