The Man Who Remained — His Second Life Began with a Humble Bow of Apology.

An Unprecedented VIP Guest Arrives (Part Seven).

Gyokuran did not approach Vaahl as the entertainer Hisui, but rather as the village chief. And the reason for that—while perhaps not overly elaborate—stemmed from emotions too complex for her to fully articulate even to herself.

Feelings she couldn’t explain, not even to herself.

It may seem simple, but it was anything but. A deeply personal issue rooted in the hearts of both Gyokuran and Hisui.

And yet, despite not being a geisha, there were clear, understandable reasons why Gyokuran had taken it upon herself to entertain Vaahl.

For instance, to perform—just as she had done earlier.

No matter how sorrowfully a song conveys the pain and despair of a long life, it holds no meaning if the singer cannot genuinely understand those emotions. That’s why, of all people, only Gyokuran—who had lived for over several millennia—could sing that song to Vaahl.

That, too, was an important reason. But not the only one.

There was another issue, separate from the goal of healing Vaahl, that could not be ignored. And so Gyokuran had deliberately arranged to be alone with him.

After her songs had been fully appreciated, and the sake had dwindled down to its last drops… In the calm of night, with the haze of intoxication gently settling in, Vaahl smiled and murmured:

“Don’t you think… it’s about time?”

“Pardon? Time for what, exactly?”

“For you to tell me what you want from me. Naturally, it was wonderful that my beloved daughter Roza enjoyed herself, and I must admit—somewhat sheepishly—that I, too, have come to like this place enough to say I’d gladly return. So, yes… I think it’s time we addressed the real reason you summoned me.”

Gyokuran returned his smile with one of her own and spoke softly.

“Then let me be direct. This village is slowly but surely headed toward ruin.”

“…Does it have anything to do with the numerous attacks that occurred during the day?”

“That may be a contributing factor, indirectly. But not the primary cause. Also… it seems word leaked that a particularly distinguished guest was visiting today. That likely led to the higher number of attacks.”

“Hmm… then what is the real cause of this decline?”

“Simply put, the village’s strength is waning. Not in terms of defense, but economically—and in its influence beyond our borders.”

“…I see. A rather common story, I suppose. So then, what is it you want from me?”

Gyokuran’s expression turned troubled.

“To be honest… I don’t actually know.”

“You don’t know…? What do you mean?”

“The one who conceived this plan is Cross-san. I don’t know the details myself…”

Vaahl let out a wry chuckle.

“Then I suppose it’s best I hear it from this ‘planner’ directly.”

“Indeed. I anticipated you might say that, so I’ve already made arrangements. Shall I call him at once?”

“Please do.”

Gyokuran nodded and silently rose to her feet, exiting the room. Soon after, she returned with Cross, who wore his usual cheerful grin.

“My friend… I must admit, this situation has unfolded almost exactly as you intended. I can’t help feeling a little vexed. But more than that, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart. Roza, of course, enjoyed herself—but so did I, more than I expected.”

“Glad to hear it. Though to be honest, I was hoping to see you let loose a bit more. Maybe flirting with the girls like a certain someone.”

“Someone like you, you mean?”

“Exactly. Flashing that goofy grin of mine.”

With a glance and a chuckle, the two friends shared a mutual smile.

“I may not know how to enjoy myself quite like you, but… this place has become very dear to me. In this fleeting moment, I felt my heart tremble for the first time in ages.”

“You were a mess when it came to Roza, though. Crying, bleeding, the whole dramatic package.”

“Family is a different matter.”

Cross laughed, spreading his arms in mock surrender as Vaahl responded confidently.

“Now then, my dear friend Cross… I’d like to know what you’re really after. Although, I suspect I already have a good idea.”

Cross grinned.

“Oh? Then guess. What do you think I want from you?”

Vaahl returned the challenge with a smirk of his own.

“My humble guess is… that you’re seeking my financial support for this village. A crass way to put it, perhaps, but money is what this place needs most—and I happen to have some to spare.”

A pure-blood vampire. A former Demon Lord.

Vaahl wasn’t just powerful—he was also one of the wealthiest beings alive. As an investor, there was no one more suitable.

Surely that’s why they had involved him.

Or so Vaahl believed.

But—

“Wrong. Sorry, not what I’m after.”

Cross declared it plainly.

“…Even though that would be the most efficient solution? I don’t say this lightly, but I’m not particularly attached to money, so I’m more than willing to offer it. They say the simplest solution is usually the best, after all.”

“Hah! I appreciate it, truly. And yeah, if money could fix it, that’d be great. But… it’s not enough.”

“Not… enough?”

Vaahl looked genuinely puzzled.

“Yeah. Maybe a century ago, your offer would’ve done the trick. But now? This situation is far beyond that.”

National economies are like tides. Restoring a declining state isn’t just about plugging financial holes—it takes astronomical resources and a long time. In fact, stabilizing Hourai Village now would cost far more than founding a new nation.

And these weren’t even Cross’s thoughts.

Frankly, Cross didn’t have the head for such strategy. All of this was Ellie’s doing.

Because it was Ellie’s plan—formulated on Cross’s behalf—he trusted it more deeply than if it were his own.

“…I see. Then you’ve prepared something else—something you believe can extract more from me than money?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Fascinating. Well then… while I’m still open to the idea of becoming your accomplice, why don’t you tell me what it is exactly you want from me?”

Vaahl spoke with theatrical flair, his eyes gleaming with a childlike curiosity.

“Honestly? You don’t even need to give financial support—though it’d help, sure.”

“You’re being unusually roundabout. Can you be more direct, like your usual self?”

Cross took a breath and said:

“See, it’s a unique trait of this place, Kougyokuya. The entertainers here—all of them strive daily to soothe the hearts of men.”

“Yes. I felt that myself. Gyokuran-sama made an appearance just for me, after all, and performed beautifully.”

“Right. So… I was thinking. What if this place could become a sanctuary—where even purebloods like yourself could come to heal their wounded hearts? What do you think, as one of them?”

Vaahl understood the idea. Or rather, he understood Ellie’s vision behind Cross’s words.

It was a terrifyingly far-sighted plan, even to someone like Vaahl, a former Demon Lord.

What Ellie wanted was deceptively simple: she wished to promote Hourai Village as a travel destination—for purebloods.

Just that.

To offer a place where their weary, suffering hearts could rest.

Not to ask for favors or demand assistance—just an invitation to visit.

But… it was an audacious plan. A plan to place Hourai Village under the protection of all purebloods by making it a place they’d willingly support.

Not just relying on Vaahl alone—he wasn’t enough. If they became dependent on him, everything would collapse if he fell.

So why not take the plunge?

If they were going to borrow power from the purebloods, then borrow all of it.

Ellie reasoned this out.

And conveniently, Kougyokuya offered exactly what purebloods found irresistible.

Vaahl, who lived a life of dry suffering, wept—if only for a moment. His thirst eased, his heart stirred.

That alone meant Kougyokuya had succeeded in extending the lives of purebloods in a way nothing else could.

In its single-minded mission to heal pain, Kougyokuya—and Hisui’s wish—had become the very thing purebloods needed most.

“…I understand your goal. And the logic behind it. But… I can’t fully support it as a pureblood myself.”

“Why not? You seemed to enjoy yourself. I’m sure other purebloods would too.”

“I’m not denying that. But… purebloods, by nature, are indifferent to other races. There’s no guarantee this would succeed. Honestly, I feel like forcing myself to provide aid might be more effective.”

That indifference wasn’t benign—it came with a latent hostility.

Some purebloods held deep-seated contempt for other races, going so far as to wish them dead rather than interact with them.

They were biased toward their own kind, dismissive of others, arrogant in their superiority.

Even if they declared Hourai Village a vacation spot, Vaahl foresaw only trouble.

But still…

“You see what I’m saying? I like you all, so I’m being honest. But from an outsider’s perspective, purebloods are a dangerous group to invite. Do you really think you can do this without any issues? If you had a foolproof method, I might reconsider, but… I’m not hopeful.”

Gyokuran said nothing. She couldn’t. This was beyond her capabilities—beyond what she could even follow.

And then, Cross muttered something.

“If Roza’s going to be there… don’t you think most purebloods would come willingly and behave themselves?”

“…………”

Vaahl had no rebuttal.

It was simply too true.

If Roza were involved, every concern he just raised would be nullified.

“Cross. Then your real goal is…”

“Once a year, for a month, Roza visits the village. We invite the purebloods during that time. They get to enjoy themselves while bonding with Roza, and learn just how amazing Kougyokuya is. They become fans. The village survives. Easy, right?”

Vaahl chuckled and clapped softly.

There was nothing to object to.

If Roza—beloved by all purebloods—enjoyed herself here, even the wildest of them would behave like kittens.

Cross’s plan, it seemed, was nearly foolproof.

The only remaining concern was whether others would love Kougyokuya as he had. But if he could cry like that… then surely they would too.

“Whoever came up with this… must be a devil. No one loses, and the village gets saved. Because no one suffers, no one objects. It’s brilliant. Honestly… I wish I had someone like that as a subordinate back when I was a Demon Lord.”

Cross beamed with pride.

“Hahaha! My knight is ridiculously competent. So much so that I sometimes wonder if I even have a role anymore. Anyway! Enough of the heavy stuff. Let’s drink! Gyokuran, could you bring a few cute girls for us?”

“Heh. That’s very you, Cross. In that case, I’ll take my leave before I get in the way—”

As Vaahl rose, Cross grabbed his wrist.

“Hey, don’t be so cold. Stay and enjoy yourself!”

“I’m not really into that sort of thing…”

“I’m not saying do anything indecent. Just talk, laugh. Maybe a little flirting if it happens naturally. Come on, once in a while won’t kill you, right?”

Cross looked so happy, Vaahl couldn’t help but let out a resigned smile and sit back down.

“…I don’t really get it, but since my friend insists—I’ll stay for a little while.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Cross grinned like a child.

Neither Cross nor Vaahl noticed it at the time.

But Gyokuran’s expression was somewhere between exasperation and quiet fury.

She silently poured a drink and handed it to Cross.

“Oh, nice! Alright, to new beginnings—cheers!”

Cross raised his cup and downed it in one go.

It was the same drink Vaahl had been sipping.

“Pfft! Gah—gahak! cough cough—!”

Choking violently, Cross rolled around on the tatami mat, gasping.