61 Reality? X Dream? X An Unexpected Advancement

Even Kurama found himself uncertain about his earlier suspicions. He sat in silence, lost in thought, and Mokona and the Count beside him were much the same, so the surroundings quickly fell back into a sudden quiet.

The three of them each pondered and deduced silently, and when the fox spirit was the first to return to awareness, his gaze unconsciously fell upon the Count, instantly tinged with an extremely rare tension and panic…

“Count!”

He reached out, wanting to touch the beautiful young man with black hair, who now seemed even fainter than before, almost as if he might soon become transparent and vanish entirely. Yet Kurama was stunned to discover that his palm passed right through the Count’s arm without any resistance!

Awakened by Kurama’s call, both the Count and Mokona witnessed this shocking scene.

“Aah!” Mokona cried out, immediately turning to the Count with concern. “Count! Your hand…”

Alerted by the outcry, the Count himself regained composure first.

“It seems our previous worries were rather unnecessary,” he said with a light laugh. “Whether this is reality or a dream, given the current situation… this is both your reality and my ‘dream’. Only, at the moment I fainted, a ‘little’ accident must have occurred.”

Thus, he had somehow, in a manner akin to an out-of-body experience yet not quite, inexplicably traversed time and space, coincidentally appearing before Kurama and Mokona.

—But is this truly just a “coincidence”?

The Count lowered his gaze, concealing the flash of suspicion in his eyes.

“Temporal disorder.”

He raised his head and gently uttered the term.

Kurama’s expression shifted ever so slightly at the words. The Count’s conjecture was precisely what Kurama had begun to suspect.

Why didn’t the Count remember him? The answer was simple—it wasn’t a matter of memory, but of occurrence.

Kurama and Mokona had encountered the Count from the “New Pet Shop of Horrors” era, who ran his shop in Kabukicho, Shinjuku, Japan, while the present Count was from the original “Pet Shop of Horrors”, with his store in Chinatown, New York, USA.

Those met by the former had not yet been encountered by the latter, who had not reached that point in time. How could he know them?

Though it sounded rather mystical, when crossing through time and space was no longer an issue, then temporal disorder was not so unbelievable, was it?

At this moment, Kurama and the Count’s speculations converged.

Yet, having resolved their prior confusion about dream versus reality, the three now faced a new dilemma: the Count was becoming increasingly transparent, his form seeming liable to vanish at any moment…

—or perhaps, his soul.

Kurama could not be certain that when the Count’s image truly disappeared, he would return to his original dream and awaken in his own body, or simply…

be scattered to nothing.

Neither Kurama nor the Count dared risk the possibility of the latter outcome.

“Mokona, contact Miss Yuko immediately, hurry!”

With a flash of thought, Kurama made the most appropriate decision almost instantly.

Hearing this, the white Mokona instantly understood Kurama’s intention, widened its eyes, and two beams of light shot out from them, forming a giant spectral screen in midair.

In less than the blink of an eye, Yuko’s image appeared on the other side.

The witch was sitting leisurely by her veranda, enjoying the rain and wine, drinking merrily with the black Mokona. When the call came through, deprived of her drinking companion, she was visibly displeased.

“Honestly, why now…”

She complained as she carelessly cast her gaze toward them, but the moment she saw the nearly transparent figure in the image, Yuko’s voice abruptly faltered.

Then it rose sharply.

“Count?!”

The beautiful man with black hair smiled and nodded, his attitude toward Yuko notably different from how he treated ordinary mortals.

“Yuko, it’s been a long time.”

The black-haired witch frowned deeply. “Indeed, it has. But you needn’t greet me with such a ‘surprise’, do you? What happened? How did you end up in such a state?”

Yuko pressed her lips together—since the first Count had solemnly instructed her not to reveal his identity to his grandson ahead of time, she refrained from asking, “Didn’t your grandfather take care of you? How could he let you become so wretched?”

In the end, she could only turn helplessly to Kurama.

“So, what happened?”

Rather than expect the Count to explain, Yuko felt it better to ask someone who understood the situation.

But when her gaze finally landed on Kurama…

“Damn it! In such a short time, you’ve already recovered this much power?! Should I praise you as truly worthy of being ‘the world’s gift’?”

Clearly, Her Majesty the Queen still harbored considerable resentment for her failure to claim such a rare treasure for herself years ago.

And knowing that Kurama’s “world’s gift” had been obtained from the Count, Yuko cast a fierce glare at the oblivious Count beside her. The black-haired beauty, somewhat bewildered, instinctively took note of Yuko’s remarks.

So… who knew if, in the future, the witch would be even more upset upon realizing that her casual words had further facilitated certain developments.

…Well, perhaps it’s best not to anticipate the Queen’s spectacle too eagerly.

Kurama responded to Yuko’s displeasure with a gentle smile, offering no argument.

“Miss Yuko, right now the Count’s condition is the most important issue.”

Unruffled, the fox spirit tried to shift the topic.

Yuko glared at him, but concern for the Count prevailed.

“All right, hurry up and explain.”

She urged impatiently.

Kurama paused, then swiftly recounted the events and their deductions for Yuko. The witch listened, tapping her chin with slender fingers, her expression growing grave.

“I always said, even in soul form, as a descendant of Kunlun, the Count shouldn’t weaken so quickly. After all… the rules always favor their clan…”

She murmured softly, either to herself or as explanation.

“Most likely, when the Count fainted in the dream, he happened to encounter a random rift caused by temporal turbulence and was swept inside, thus arriving in your world.”

“And the Count was already gravely injured, wandering defenseless through temporal turbulence… Frankly, the fact that he hasn’t completely dissipated by now is what’s truly incredible.”

As she spoke, Yuko’s gaze swept over the Count’s smooth neck and chest, then shifted to Kurama with a hint of admiration and understanding.

“So, let me be brief.” Her speech quickened suddenly. “The Count needs to return to his original dream in order to rejoin his body. Then, relying on the connection between soul and body, he must slowly recover from the immense damage and shock his soul suffered.”

“But Kurama, you should know better than I—sending the Count back to his original world, even with Mokona, isn’t possible.”

Because Mokona’s space-travel ability is non-directional.

Kurama, well aware of this, grew equally grave as Yuko spoke.

“Miss Yuko, you must have a solution?”

Judging by her relationship with the Count, Yuko was not unfamiliar with him. Though her expression was serious, she showed little anxiety or panic.

The beautiful, black-haired woman touched her lips, a trace of amusement flickering in her eyes.

“As expected of Kurama, the supreme dragon’s avatar.”

Her expression turned solemn again.

“That’s right, I do have a way.”

“As the ‘pillar’ of his native space, the Count possesses an unbreakable, exceptionally strong bond with his world.”

“However, to send the Count back, even such a strong connection is insufficient for precise positioning.”

“I can provide a tool to strengthen that bond, enough to send the Count accurately back to his original space.”

“But…”

At this point, Yuko lowered her gaze.

“You know the rules here.”

—To obtain something, you must pay the corresponding price.

Even for friends, the rules of the Witch’s Dimensional Shop cannot be broken.

Yuko’s treasures are not personally hers; once labeled as transaction goods, she loses absolute control over them as the shopkeeper.

So everything must proceed according to the rules.

Kurama was not surprised.

“I’ll pay the price for the Count,” he said softly but firmly. “Consider it… my gift in return to him.”

Kurama knew the price he would pay might not compare to the treasure known as “the world’s gift,” but aiding the Count while sparing the proud young man from excessive gratitude or emotional burden, Kurama could only answer this way.

The witch smiled gently from the screen.

“At least the Count has chosen well,” she said, clearly in good spirits. “Watanuki, go fetch the item from Domeki and Kohane. I’ll tell them what it is.”

She brusquely sent off the dissatisfied boy, then locked eyes with Kurama for a long moment before suddenly breaking into a smile—

“Don’t worry too much. Though the item is precious, its limitations reduce its value—first and foremost, it requires the user to be the pillar of their own main space, with a sufficiently strong connection. This lowers its worth enough to fall within your ability to pay.”

She flashed a sly smile.

“For example… about ten percent of your spiritual power?”

Kurama silently raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Yuko, you wouldn’t happen to know I’ve collected treasures of equivalent value, would you?”

He reached into the space of the Devouring Grass, casually spilling out a pile of rare treasures he’d gathered in the Hunter world, a subtle smile on his face.

The witch’s expression momentarily froze.

She had indeed asked for ten percent of his spiritual power, but… using treasures of equivalent value would suffice.

She glared silently at the smiling fox spirit, having no energy left to complain about his absurd luck—he’d only traversed a few worlds, yet where had he found so many valuables?

Yuko’s frustration had no outlet, when Watanuki hurried back with a disk-like item.

Yuko took it, exchanged a glance with Kurama, and together they placed their respective items into the wide mouths of the black and white Mokonas.

“The Positioning Boundary Disk. The Count knows how to use it—just give it to him.”

Pressed for time, Yuko spoke faster.

“There’s no harm to the Count upon use, but it will consume some of Mokona’s energy, since it relies on Mokona’s ability to send him back.”

“And as the price for activating the boundary disk, you will also suffer backlash from the world’s spatial barrier at the moment the Count is sent away, which means…”

“You must leave this world as well.”

Yuko’s expression grew serious once more.

“Mokona’s stored energy… it can support two trips, right?”

Though serving as a communicator, the white Mokona nodded, “Yes, Yuko, don’t worry. Mokona is fine.”

The witch’s expression softened slightly.

She then looked at Kurama: “Let’s begin now. The Count’s soul may not hold out much longer.”

Kurama nodded solemnly.

Though he had many matters unfinished in this world, and some vague plans yet to be realized or even drafted, with the Count’s safety at stake, he could not hesitate.

As the Count began preparing the boundary disk, Kurama quickly scribbled a note, grabbed a pile of items from his space, summoned a magic circle beneath Mokona, and in the instant he was pulled inside, tossed out a seed.

The next moment, he, Mokona, and the Count vanished from the jungle.

＊＊＊

A few days later, Illumi received a message delivered by most unusual means.

In it, Kurama explained he had to leave, and might never return, apologizing for missing their agreed meeting in Yorknew…

“A seed that can be activated by nen, and… a pregnancy stone?!”

The black-haired assassin stared at the package of “attachments,” and for the first time, his emotionless face cracked.

Meanwhile, at the far end of time and space, seeing the Count vanish through Mokona’s spatial channel, Kurama, reassured by the Count’s broad smile, had no time to relax before he was flung out again—

Barely managing to protect himself and Mokona from harm in the impact, Kurama looked down, ready to tease the white Mokona for yet another rough landing, but was startled by the latter’s pitiful expression, never before seen.

“Mokona, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice full of concern.

“What do we do, Kurama! Mokona just… seems to have bumped into something strange.”

The white Mokona looked up, utterly confused and innocent.

Kurama was momentarily speechless.

—Bumped into something?

During… the process of crossing time and space?!