Strike the Snake at Its Weak Spot

Just as Eiren Kanagawa was about to leave, she noticed a man in a suit, name badge pinned to his chest, hurrying over in a sweaty panic. It was obvious without even looking closely—this was the manager of the five-star hotel's lobby.

"Hello, hello! I'm the lobby manager. My name's Mori. May I ask what kind of dispute occurred here for it to escalate into physical violence? Meeting is fate—let's not let things get ugly."

The manager wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief as he tried to de-escalate the situation with a pleading tone, hoping to turn a major incident into a minor one, and a minor one into nothing.

If people were brawling outside the hotel—even to the point of someone getting seriously hurt—he wouldn't have batted an eye. He might've even watched with popcorn in hand.

But a fight breaking out inside the hotel lobby? That was an entirely different story. When he heard that someone had been beaten so badly they were coughing up blood, he was so shocked he nearly collapsed.

After popping a few emergency heart pills into his mouth, he rushed over as fast as he could.

Upon seeing the bloodstains on the lobby floor, his face turned half-white.

Did someone actually die?!

Oh god, I can't do this job anymore—I need to grab my stuff and get out while I still can!

Thankfully, seeing Mei Yamazaki—though bloodied and battered—still breathing and able to sit upright gave him a shred of relief. At least no one had died.

The poor manager finally let out a sigh. There was still room to salvage the situation. He had worked so hard to climb the ranks to become manager, and he wasn't about to lose the job before his seat had even warmed.

"I didn't hit her. My student did," Eiren Kanagawa said.

While she was indeed covering for Kotomi and quietly cleaning up the aftermath, Eiren wasn't about to take the blame for the assault herself. A professor at Kyoto University's Fine Arts Department hitting a student in public? Even if it were false, the rumor alone could be a career killer.

And really, there was no need.

The matter had already been settled. Kotomi had done what she did—and what more could come of it? Even if Mei Yamazaki held a grudge and wanted to cause trouble for Kotomi or Mashiro, Eiren Kanagawa would likely be the one causing Mei problems before she could act.

Strike the snake at its weak spot—Eiren had already seized Mei Yamazaki's "vital point." She wouldn't dare make another move, let alone cause a stir.

What's more, Eiren found herself admiring Kotomi Izumi all the more for how decisively she acted.

She had already admired Kotomi's artistic talent—now she appreciated her protective nature toward Mashiro.

One's true feelings for another aren't easy to read. Especially when it came to someone like Kotomi—a cunning little fox who understood human nature well.

But today's events made it abundantly clear to Eiren just how much Kotomi cared about Mashiro.

She even made a mental note to call Chihiro Sengoku that evening to praise Kotomi's actions.

"Uh..."

The lobby manager was at a loss. That's still a fight, though, isn't it? He then tried again:

"Professor, you see... your student beat someone up pretty badly. If we don't offer some kind of explanation, the other party won't let it slide. But we at the hotel would also really prefer to keep this from escalating to the point where the police are involved. If it can be handled privately, then please, let's settle it quietly. We'd really appreciate your understanding on this."

"Of course, if there's anything we can do to help, our hotel staff won't hesitate!"

"We're a hotel after all—and the worst thing for us is to have police cars showing up out front. People might get the wrong idea, think there's something shady going on here. Once that kind of rumor spreads, the impact isn't just embarrassing—it's damaging..."

"So please, Professor, Miss, I hope you can both understand our position. Harmony brings prosperity. Times are tough for everyone these days."

The hotel lobby manager looked incredibly conflicted. He really didn't want to deal with this situation. For someone who had just gotten promoted, this was a hot potato—completely unwelcome. But as the lobby manager, he didn't have a choice.

Things were fine when everything was peaceful. But the moment something like this happened, the lobby manager had to be the one to step out as the peacemaker.

The hotel owner's face had gone pale when he heard about the altercation. The pressure on him was enormous. In just one month, the International Hotel Association's Japan division would be conducting its once-every-five-years star rating evaluation of high-end Kyoto hotels.

They'd send undercover inspectors posing as regular guests to secretly assess service and operations. The results would determine whether the hotel could qualify for a higher star rating.

If they passed, the hotel's prestige would skyrocket.

If they failed—or worse, if their rating was downgraded—the consequences for the hotel owner would be worse than death.

Rumor had it that during the last evaluation, one hotel owner blacked out on the spot upon learning of a downgrade and has remained unconscious in the hospital ever since.

With upper management under intense pressure, they inevitably pushed it onto their subordinates. If the issue was resolved quietly, everyone would be happy. If not—well, the scapegoat was ready.

If this lobby brawl wasn't settled quietly, it would directly affect next month's evaluation. And if the police were called, and patrol cars showed up outside the hotel?

Better a tank than a police car outside the hotel!

If a rival hotel caught wind of it, they could easily hire fake reviewers to flood online platforms with negative comments and start malicious rumors.

They already had the headline in mind: Shocking! Police swarm a Kyoto five-star hotel—what unspeakable scandal happened here?

Then the article wouldn't actually explain anything, just spin it to create maximum buzz and slander.

Classic tactics.

So the hotel owner's strict orders had now landed squarely on the lobby manager's shoulders.

Now all he could do was keep dabbing at his sweat and do whatever he could to de-escalate the situation.

At first, Eiren Kanagawa had been a bit puzzled at how concerned the manager was. But then she remembered the upcoming star rating evaluation for Kyoto's luxury hotels next month, and everything clicked.

Since she had already planned to wrap this up quietly, she didn't make things difficult. Waving a hand, she smiled and said:

"No need to stress, Mr. Mori. You're right—harmony brings wealth. After all, my student was the one who started it. She's a great girl—just has a bit of a temper. She may look like a gentle bunny, but once provoked, it's more like a beast off its leash."

"Haha, in any case, as her teacher, I take full responsibility. I've already settled things privately with this young lady here, and she's very satisfied—won't be pursuing anything further. Isn't that right, Miss Yamazaki?"

Eiren Kanagawa smiled sweetly as she turned to Mei Yamazaki.

Remembering Eiren's "threats," Mei felt deeply unwilling. But knowing Eiren was a judge for the National Art Award, going against her would be like sending a chicken into battle against a war machine.

Better to swallow her pride. Mei nodded stiffly and said in a voice that was almost too forced:

"Y-Yes! I had a little disagreement with Professor Kanagawa's student, but thanks to her... uh, guidance, we've made peace. I was in the wrong to begin with!"

Her smile looked more painful than crying.

The lobby manager pretended not to notice. As long as they said it was resolved, that was enough. He didn't care how it had been resolved—he was barely hanging on himself and had no energy to care about the details.

"Good, good—as long as it's resolved. We're all just trying to get by. Miss, about your injuries—our hotel is willing to cover any medical expenses, as long as you don't—"

"No need! Really! It's just a scratch! I'm leaving now!" Mei blurted, her swollen face twitching in pain as she shook her head and rushed away.

She didn't dare spend another second near Eiren Kanagawa.

In the end, she was just a student. A little pressure from an adult and she folded completely. Eiren chuckled to herself. Seeing Mei flee in panic, she didn't bother pressing her further.

She had other things on her mind—namely, going to brag to Kotomi. Who knows? Maybe Kotomi would be so touched, she'd decide to become her student now, without even waiting for college entrance exams...

Eiren's grin grew smug with anticipation.

The lobby manager, now soaked in cold sweat, said a few more nice words and begged her to keep an eye on her student. Only after that did he finally retreat, feeling like he had narrowly escaped death. At least the problem was resolved peacefully before it spiraled out of control—his job was safe, for now.

Just as Eiren Kanagawa was about to march over and take credit, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

It occurred to her that going over so directly would make her intentions too obvious—and that wouldn't do.

The smarter move would be to quietly walk away now, pretending she hadn't done anything at all. Then later, she would leave behind subtle hints, gradually letting Kotomi realize: why did nothing happen to her after she hit someone?

Oh! Because of the silent guidance, invisible support, moral authority, selfless teaching, tireless dedication, patient instruction, painstaking nurturing, and boundless wisdom of none other than Professor Kanagawa!

Under the impression of a natural discovery, Kotomi would be deeply moved—tears welling up—promptly listing Kyoto University's Fine Arts Department as her top choice for university. Upon enrollment, she'd seek Eiren out and ask to be her student.

Just imagining it made Eiren's heart flutter with excitement.

"Alright! That's the plan!"

Eiren let out a satisfied chuckle. She already felt like she'd won big—and was even mentally preparing how to guide Kotomi's thesis during university.

Would Kotomi be sharp enough to catch those clues on her own?

Eiren wasn't worried. A clever girl like Kotomi would absolutely figure it out. Out of modesty, Eiren might say she was 90% sure—but without modesty?

She'd lay all her cards on the table: she was 100% sure Kotomi would know she was the one who smoothed things over.

And if, somehow, she didn't? Well, Eiren was planning to tell Chihiro Sengoku about it tonight anyway. If Kotomi really remained clueless, Chihiro could just pretend she couldn't keep it in anymore and have a heartfelt talk with Kotomi:

"Do you know why nothing happened after you hit someone? Because someone quietly took care of everything behind the scenes. Professor Kanagawa worked so hard on your behalf, she aged overnight!"

Eiren had already prepared a whole speech for Chihiro to deliver. Chihiro had taken recitation training before. With enough money, she'd give a passionate, tear-jerking performance that would definitely have Kotomi crying on the spot—then marching to Kyoto University to become Eiren's student.

"Phew... I've been a teacher for so many years, and this is the first time I've felt such genuine appreciation for a student's talent. Even when I first saw Mashiro's artwork, I didn't lose my composure like I did with Kotomi's."

Eiren shook her head and sighed, though her tone was full of admiration.

She turned and left the hotel, heading to the nearby Meigetsu Café for a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. There was no rush to attend the closing ceremony—leaving fifteen minutes early would get her there in plenty of time.

Besides, if she showed up early, they'd probably make her help move desks around. No way was Eiren doing that.

Meanwhile, Kotomi tossed her bloodstained gloves into the trash. She had been well prepared—wearing gloves before throwing that punch.

When Mei Yamazaki insulted Mashiro Shiina, Kotomi admitted her first slap had been impulsive. Rage had surged through her, and her hand, filled with strength, struck Mei across the face, sending her flying several meters.

After she cooled down, Kotomi appeared to be still furious—landing several more heavy punches. But in reality, she had already coordinated with Kazumi to control the impact.

They made sure the hits were painful enough to feel like hell, but not severe enough to cause serious injuries.

If Mei Yamazaki really tried to escalate it and get the police involved with a medical report, the most they'd find would be minor injuries.

Just in case, Kotomi had also prepared a backup plan. She had recently unlocked a new ability in the God-Level Heroine System—called Healing Arts. (Definitely not from that kind of healer. Ahem. Emergency Recovery!)

This ability, simply put, allowed for silent healing—of either oneself or another—through hand contact.

It came with two modes.

One was Instant Recovery. Just like a game healer—the kind where your health goes from near-zero to full in the blink of an eye.

The second was Subtle Restoration. In this mode, when the hand first makes contact, there's no immediate effect. Instead, it plants a "healing seed" that slowly takes root. Once that seed blossoms, the healing ability activates.

Both modes had the same outcome—full recovery—but one was immediate, and the other took about an hour or two to take effect.

That's right. When Kotomi gave Mei Yamazaki that vicious beating earlier, she had quietly activated Emergency Recovery, effectively healing the injuries she inflicted. After all, if Mei ended up wandering around with a visibly broken face, things might escalate—and Kotomi hated unnecessary trouble.

Naturally, she chose the subtle mode. But since she rarely used Emergency Recovery, she had accidentally selected a harsher sub-mode: Forced Healing.

Forced Healing took longer but healed all at once. The catch? It felt like someone pouring alcohol on a wound—painful.

So while Kotomi had seemed driven by impulse, every move had been calculated with an escape route in mind.

That was something Kaneyoshi Izumi had taught her: You may act out of passion for someone you care about, but when it comes time to strike, you must stay calm and plan your next steps. Never go all in without a backup plan. Always leave yourself a way out.

When Kotomi first heard this from her dad, she had brushed it off: "Dad, you say all this, but I don't even get it."

It wasn't until she started playing fighting games that she understood. In simple terms, when you go in with Skill A, don't dump all your cooldowns and dashes—save something for a follow-up or escape. Otherwise, once you're out of moves, you'll be trapped.

"I really am a noble and virtuous person~" Kotomi sighed to herself with a smirk.

Still, she hadn't come out of that encounter empty-handed. At the very least... she now understood just how much Mashiro meant to her deep down.

She smiled sweetly, saying nothing—but sometimes, silence said more than words ever could.

She took the presidential suite's elevator up to the exclusive floor, carefully unlocked the door with her keycard, and tiptoed into the bedroom. Seeing Mashiro still fast asleep on the bed, Kotomi finally let out a relieved breath.

She had been nervous about the delay in the lobby. What if Mashiro had already woken up?

But no—it was just her imagination. Mashiro was still peacefully sleeping.

Quietly, Kotomi crept into the living room, picked up her laptop, and snuck back into the bedroom.

She settled into the lounge chair by the window, opened her laptop on her lap, and brought up Word, pretending to focus completely on writing.

It was all so that when Mashiro opened her sleepy eyes, the first thing she'd see was Kotomi—right where she promised to be. Still by her side. Never having left her, not even for a moment.

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