Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Deceased King Was a Woman?

Kamikawa Mitsu’s pupils contracted.

Fifty thousand script points?

He couldn’t help but smile, relieved he’d spent all four thousand script points on the second script.

Though he’d spent nearly four thousand script points, he gained fifty thousand in return—more than worth it!

Throughout the entire class, Kamikawa Mitsu didn’t absorb a single word of the lesson, lost in planning how to use his script points wisely.

Ding~

Even after the bell rang, Kamikawa Mitsu was still planning.

“Kamikawa-kun.”

A sweet voice came from beside him, interrupting his thoughts.

Kamikawa Mitsu, seated at his desk, looked up—surprise flashed briefly across his face.

“What is it, Tsuchimikado-san?”

He was surprised—she was Tsuchimikado Xia Mei.

He knew that although he wasn’t brooding like the original body, he was easygoing enough that he’d usually chat with anyone who approached him—provided someone approached him first.

He rarely initiated conversations.

He simply couldn’t find common ground with his classmates. If he tried talking about medicine, his high school peers didn’t understand; if he tried to fit in, he couldn’t keep up. He’d been a university student in Huaguo, so there was inevitably a gap between him and these Japanese high schoolers.

To his classmates, Kamikawa Mitsu now seemed not brooding, but steady—a quiet, distant presence.

After he’d beaten up the school bully, an invisible aura of authority had grown around him, making others wary, afraid of saying the wrong thing and provoking his anger—risking another beating. As a result, few spoke to him now.

Kamikawa Mitsu was quite pleased with this situation.

He disliked trouble. Since he couldn’t connect with his classmates, better not to talk at all—better to use the time to study, research how to earn money, and improve his and Chi-hui’s lives.

So.

In his mind, Tsuchimikado Xia Mei shouldn’t have spoken to him.

First, he hadn’t approached her; second, when she’d sat down and greeted him earlier, he’d only responded politely. Altogether, his behavior had been cold, showing no hint of wanting to be friends.

Plus, no other classmates spoke to Kamikawa Mitsu—he looked utterly isolated.

Tsuchimikado Xia Mei, clearly intelligent, couldn’t possibly have missed that the class was isolating him.

Everyone knew isolation had a reason—most likely, the isolated person had some flaw. Common sense dictated avoiding such people, lest you attract bad luck.

Kamikawa Mitsu couldn’t understand why Tsuchimikado Xia Mei had approached him.

Could it be…

Had she figured something out?

Impossible.

I remember I reacted exactly like everyone else during the video—shocked, horrified, perfectly normal. So how could she sense anything unusual?

Hss!

Kamikawa Mitsu’s heart jolted—he suddenly realized a possibility.

Could she read microexpressions?

Microexpressions are a psychological term: fleeting facial cues that reveal hidden emotions. People struggle to control them because they’re instinctive, direct reflections of the innermost feelings—even when the person themselves isn’t aware of the emotional shift, their body unconsciously expresses it.

That’s why some police investigations bring in microexpression experts to detect anomalies in suspects’ faces, uncovering critical clues.

Kamikawa Mitsu didn’t know that Tsuchimikado Xia Mei had approached him not because of some advanced skill like microexpression reading, but because of what he considered impossible.

Seeing Kamikawa Mitsu isolated, Tsuchimikado Xia Mei hadn’t chosen to avoid bad luck, as he assumed—instead, she felt sympathy.

She thought: if the students were isolating Kamikawa Mitsu, he must suffer terribly—no one to talk to, utterly alone.

As for why he was isolated, she guessed it had to do with his talent.

Who was Kamikawa Mitsu? The genius who single-handedly saved 231 people on NH137.

Geniuses are often lonely, misunderstood.

Galileo, Einstein, Newton, Copernicus… countless historical figures proved that geniuses were often labeled oddities in youth, rejected by society.

Without realizing it, Tsuchimikado Xia Mei recalled her childhood.

When she was in elementary school, obsessed with Shinto, she was unlike other girls—while they played house or dolls, she played with shikigami paper and read Shinto texts. Her way of playing was strange, different.

Humans are social creatures, naturally drawn to those they get along with—children especially. Tsuchimikado Xia Mei’s oddness made her classmates dislike her; they couldn’t connect, so they called her a weirdo.

Over time, few wanted to play with her.

Had she not been beautiful and cute, even fewer—or none—would have played with her. Fortunately, as she grew older, she realized the problem and learned to hide her oddness, easing the isolation enough to live a normal student life.

She understood what it felt like to be isolated.

Lonely. Alone.

Now, seeing Kamikawa Mitsu sitting alone reading, with no one speaking to her, she felt it deeply—sympathy stirred in her heart.

Yes!

Kamikawa-kun can fly planes—high schoolers can’t. That’s too unusual. He must’ve been just like me in elementary school. That’s why he’s isolated.

The more she thought, the more certain she became—and her sympathy for Kamikawa Mitsu deepened.

She made a decision.

She’d find time to talk to Kamikawa-kun more often, become his first friend. She couldn’t let him feel so alone—he was just as pitiful as she’d been as a child.

“Kamikawa-kun, what do you think of the Deceased King?”

Tsuchimikado Xia Mei tried to start a conversation.

She smiled beautifully—eyes curved, a sweet dimple on her left cheek, radiating gentle sweetness.

“…”

Kamikawa Mitsu froze slightly, heart pounding.

What’s going on? Why is she asking me about the Deceased King? Is it just because of the video, or is there another motive?

Honestly, he couldn’t fathom women’s minds—the saying “a woman’s heart is like the bottom of the ocean” wasn’t nonsense.

And Kamikawa Mitsu himself was the Deceased King.

A stranger you just met suddenly asks you about yourself—wouldn’t anyone overthink it, feel guilty?

“The Deceased King seems complex. No ordinary person could pull off those videos.”

Kamikawa Mitsu paused, putting himself in the viewer’s perspective to analyze the Deceased King.

“Right? I also think the Deceased King isn’t ordinary—he seems incredibly powerful. Kamikawa-kun, you said he’s not ordinary. What do you think his real identity might be?”

Tsuchimikado Xia Mei’s eyes sparkled with keen interest.

No wonder she was intrigued—she suspected the Deceased King was connected to Shinto, even possibly a relative of hers.

Worried Kamikawa Mitsu wouldn’t understand, she continued.

“I mean, do you think the Deceased King is male or female? What about his real identity, his family, things like that?”

Kamikawa-kun was a genius—perhaps he had extraordinary thoughts that could inspire her search for the Deceased King.

Asked this way,

Kamikawa Mitsu, unaware of her true intent, naturally avoided using himself as an example, trying to steer her off course.

“It’s hard to say if the Deceased King is male or female, but it’s not impossible he’s a woman. The name ‘Deceased King’ sounds a bit otaku, but if you think about it, it’s oddly poetic—so a woman choosing such a name isn’t implausible.

And given the unique filming style of the Deceased King’s videos, he certainly isn’t some ordinary office worker—he must have something special.”

As he spoke, Kamikawa Mitsu glanced at Tsuchimikado Xia Mei, remembering her background.

Then he added casually:

“Speaking of which, if demons exist, then gods, onmyoji, and miko must exist too. Maybe the Deceased King is a miko—those people are unusual enough to fit the Deceased King’s profile.”

Of course, he could also be a demon or a god.”

Since he was going to mislead, he’d mislead completely—absolutely no connection to himself.

Steering her toward miko was safe—he wasn’t one.

Kamikawa Mitsu thought this honestly, unaware that Tsuchimikado Xia Mei’s eyes had lit up with surprise and excitement upon hearing him.

“Kamikawa-kun, you really think the Deceased King could be someone from Shinto or Buddhism!”

“Exactly. When it comes to being unusual, Shinto and Buddhism are the most distinctive—yeah, the likelihood is high.”

With his confirmation, Tsuchimikado Xia Mei’s eyes gleamed brighter.

He thinks the same as me!

So my guess was right—the Deceased King really might be a relative of mine, or someone from Shinto.

……

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