The days that followed Kenjiro's return to the beginning of his isekai nightmare were a masterclass in controlled chaos. He moved through the world with the weary, practiced steps of an actor in a play he had performed a thousand times, hitting his marks, reciting his lines, and feigning the appropriate emotional responses. But beneath the surface of the easily flustered, tsundere Lily, a cold, calculating mind was at work, a mind that carried the terrible weight of a future that must be averted.

Time travel is serious business, he thought, his mind a constant, low-level hum of anxiety as he carefully navigated the familiar corridors of the femboy adventure guild. In his old world, it was the stuff of science fiction, a trope in movies and comic books. The butterfly effect. A single, misplaced rock could change the entire world. He had to be that rock, but he had to place himself with the precision of a surgeon, not the brute force of a wrecking ball. He had to let the major events, the keystones of his own history, play out exactly as they had before. The first meeting with Ryo, the formation of his party, the disastrous but character-building quests—they all had to happen. They were the crucible that had forged his friends into the heroes they needed to become. To change that, to spare them the pain and the humiliation, would be to weaken them. And he needed them strong for the war to come.

So he played his part. He spent the next few days in a carefully orchestrated dance of repetition. He dutifully evaded the increasingly bold advances of Ryo and Kaito, his feigned tsundere outbursts a perfect echo of his original, genuine frustration. Their flirtations, which had once been a source of pure, unadulterated mortification, were now just… noise. Annoying, but predictable. He could see the moves coming a mile away, and he sidestepped them with the ease of a seasoned matador.

His true focus was on the grind. He spent hours in the guild's gym, pushing his slender, infuriatingly weak body to its absolute limits. He no longer felt the rage of a prisoner trapped in a cage of flesh. He felt the focused, disciplined burn of a warrior forging his weapon. With every squat, every push-up, every grueling repetition, he could feel the latent power within him stirring, the connection to his shadows growing stronger.

'Good job, little man,' a familiar, deep voice echoed in the back of his mind during a particularly intense set of lunges. It was his muscular shadow, a silent, approving presence that was now a constant companion in his thoughts. He didn't need to be in a life-or-death situation to feel it anymore. It was there, watching, waiting, its strength a comforting, terrifying promise of the power he would soon need to unleash.

He accepted the Rank C mission to the Murkwood Marsh, not with the reluctant dread of his first go-around, but with the grim efficiency of a man on a schedule. He didn't bother with strategy or caution. He knew the path. He knew the enemy. He rushed through the humid, stinking swamp, a blur of purple skirt and righteous fury. The oversized mosquitos that had once plagued him were swatted from the air with a contemptuous ease. The monstrous cow plant, the "free protein" that had once been a genuine threat, was dispatched with a single, devastatingly precise kick to its slobbering, bovine face before it could even let out its first guttural "Mooooo!"

He reached the unnatural clearing at the heart of the marsh and saw the five robed figures, their arms outstretched, their guttural chants filling the air as they attempted to tear a hole in reality. He didn't charge in. He didn't scream his catchphrases. He just sat down on a mossy log at the edge of the clearing, crossed his legs, and waited. He was a spectator at his own history, a silent, patient observer waiting for the next major plot point to arrive.

And she did.

A brilliant, golden light filled the clearing. The giant, ornate cross plummeted from the sky, shattering the summoning circle and driving the emerging demon back into the depths of hell. And then she walked into the clearing, a vision of pristine white and gold, her blonde hair a shining halo, her blue eyes full of a serene, holy power. Seraphina.

Bombom stood, his heart beginning to beat a little faster. This was it. The first, crucial deviation. The first test of whether this new timeline was truly different. He took a deep breath, pasted a cocky, flirtatious smirk on his face, and delivered his line, a perfect, cringe-worthy echo of his first attempt.

"Hey girl, you free?"

She didn't even glance at him. She walked right past, her gaze fixed on the dissipating remnants of the demonic portal. Just as he remembered. A flicker of disappointment, quickly suppressed, twisted in his gut. But then, she stopped. She turned, not to Ryo, who wasn't even there this time, but directly to him. Her serene expression was gone, replaced by a look of profound, unsettling suspicion.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice as cold and sharp as a shard of ice. But it wasn't a question. It was an accusation. "I can sense an evil presence on you."

Before Bombom could even process the words, she pulled a small, crystal vial of shimmering, clear liquid from a pouch on her belt. "Be cleansed," she commanded, and with a flick of her wrist, she threw the holy water directly in his face.

Bombom just stood there, completely shocked, the blessed water splashing against his skin with a faint, harmless sizzle. This was not supposed to happen. His mind raced, a thousand panicked thoughts swirling in the sudden, terrifying silence. Had he done something wrong? Had he changed too much? he knew he did some different things but…

Seraphina's hard, accusatory expression softened, replaced by a look of genuine, dawning confusion. She saw the shock on his face, the utter, unfeigned bewilderment. She took a step back, her own composure faltering. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice losing its icy edge, replaced by a strange, weary exhaustion. "I just... I sensed a powerful being on you. I've been having... weird nightmares. About a giant eye. I need to take some time to relax." She looked past him, her gaze unfocused, as if seeing something far beyond the trees of the marsh. She gave a final, brief, and deeply apologetic nod, and then, without another word, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the woods as mysteriously as she had arrived.

Kenjiro stood there, dripping with holy water, his carefully constructed plan, his entire understanding of this new timeline, completely shattered. She knows, he thought, a jolt of pure, unadulterated panic shooting through him. She knows about the Eye.

He rushed back to the guild, his mind a maelstrom of fear and a new, desperate urgency. He didn't bother with decorum. He stormed past the startled receptionist and kicked open the door to Ryo's office.

"H-hey!" he yelled, his voice cracking with an anxiety that was all too real. "I need a meeting with Seraphina. Like... right now."

Ryo looked up from a pile of paperwork, a surprised, amused smirk on his face. "Why do you need one? She's busy. But I'll see what I can do."

"The world depends on it!" Bombom insisted, his voice rising with a frantic intensity. "Fast!"

Ryo looked at him, his smirk faltering, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes at the raw, desperate urgency in the Lily's voice. Bombom, realizing he had dropped his act, immediately course-corrected. He stomped his feet, his face flushing a deep, furious red. "I'VE SAID NOW!" he shrieked, the tsundere persona a familiar, comforting shield.

Ryo just laughed, the tension breaking. "Alright, alright," he chuckled, pulling out his phone as he walked out of the office, already trying to get a meeting.

As the door closed, a familiar, booming voice filled the silence. "Oh, Bombom," Gluteus said, walking into the office with a wide, proud smile on his face. "Your gluteus are increasing fast. Good job."

Bombom blushed. "H-hey, don't talk like that," he stammered.

The giant knight laughed. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a deep, gentle rumble. "I should have used a more adequate language for you." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "Your gyat is super skibbidi."

Kenjiro's brain screeched to a halt. He stared at the giant knight, his mind unable to process what he had just heard. The brainrot. The idiotic, nonsensical slang from his old world, from a timeline that shouldn't even exist anymore, was here. It had followed him. He just stood there, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated cringe, before he turned and walked out of the office, the weight of a thousand dead memes settling on his weary shoulders.

He retreated to his room and collapsed into bed, the events of the day a chaotic, confusing whirlwind in his mind. He fell into a restless, dream-filled sleep, and when he awoke, he looked at his agenda. Today was the day. The fake Elara quest.

He met Ryo in the main hall. "A Rank S mission just dropped," the CEO announced, a dramatic flair in his voice. "Doctor Elara sighting."

Bombom just nodded. "Let's go."

They arrived at the Blackfang Caverns. The two hulking bodyguards stood at the entrance, their lecherous grins a perfect, disgusting echo of his memory.

"Sorry, can't let you cuties in," one of them said. "Unless... we discuss it in the back."

Ryo's eyes lit up, but Bombom cut him off, his tsundere instincts taking over, the familiar, angry words a comforting, well-worn script. "S-SHUT UP! AS IF WE WOULD ACCEPT THAT FROM YOU! GET OUT OF OUR WAY!" But as he yelled, a shiver of pure, genuine disgust ran down his spine. His body trembled. T-this was weird, he thought, the feeling of reliving the degrading moment, of willingly putting himself back in that position, almost too much to bear.

The bodyguards whispered their familiar lines about the CEO and the new S-Tier Lily and quickly let them pass. Bombom walked into the lab, a sense of grim, weary determination on his face. He walked straight to the main computer terminal and opened the folder filled with an endless scroll of shitposts and bizarre memes. Ryo walked up behind him, peering at the screen, and then, right on cue, he saw it. The picture of a loaf of bread that just said "Bred." He burst out laughing, tears streaming down his face.

Just then, the fake doctor, the greasy-haired man with the smug look on his face, appeared in the doorway. "Correct. I'm not Elara," he began, launching into his cliché-ridden speech.

Bombom didn't let him finish. He didn't talk. He didn't taunt. He just walked straight up to the man and, with a single, devastatingly powerful punch, knocked him out cold.

The man collapsed to the floor in a heap. Ryo's laughter cut off abruptly. "H-hey," he said, his voice full of a shocked, almost disappointed amusement. "At least let him explain his plan."

Bombom just sighed, walking back to the computer. "You'll find a note on the PC," he said, his voice flat with a boredom that was a thousand years old. He began to recite from memory. "1. Find cute femboys. 2. Take photos of them. 3. Take their measures. 4. Create the perfect AI femboy. 5. Implement abusive terms of service to spy on users. 6. Sell the AI and the user data. Profit." He turned to the still-stunned Ryo. "Yes, it's cliché," he said, a weary, knowing smirk on his face. "And I know you would love to have an AI of me."

He walked out of the lab, leaving Ryo standing there, his mouth hanging open, a look of profound, dawning bewilderment on his face. He found Gluteus waiting in the armored car, listening to music, exactly as he had the first time. The script was back on track. But for how long?

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