Night had settled fully over the academy, the grounds bathed in a quiet, silvery glow as the moon hung high above, its light stretching across the pathways and gardens while a gentle wind moved through the trees, carrying with it a calm that softened the edges of the day’s chaos.

Damon walked through that stillness at an unhurried pace, his hands resting loosely at his sides as his thoughts moved far more actively than his body.

This is it, he thought, his gaze fixed ahead as a faint, calculating sharpness settled into his eyes, I’ve confirmed it with Sahira... there is no such thing as sexual tools in this world.

He exhaled slowly, his mind already aligning possibilities into structure.

I checked multiple times, even considering the gaps in her memory... but she was certain—there’s nothing like that here.

A faint curve touched his lips.

This is the opening I was looking for...

The idea unfolded further.

If it’s marketed properly... it could easily become a strong foundation for a business... and once I establish a name... I can branch out, expand into other industries... build influence from there...

By the time he reached the park, the wind had picked up slightly, brushing through his white hair and shifting it gently as he slowed his steps, his gaze scanning the area.

Now... where is she...?

He looked around, his eyes moving across the benches, the trees, the dimly lit corners of the park as his focus sharpened.

She should be somewhere here...

And then—

His gaze stopped.

There it is.

On one of the benches, partially illuminated by the moonlight, a small figure lay curled up, her pink, slightly messy hair spilling over the edge as her petite form remained wrapped within an oversized coat that seemed far too large for her frame.

Damon stared at her for a moment.

Then shook his head faintly.

...She really needs to improve her choice of sleeping spots.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he stepped closer and stopped beside the bench.

"Hey... wake up," he said, his tone even, though carrying just enough weight to prompt a response.

There was none.

Not even the slightest movement.

Damon watched her for a second longer before reaching out, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder and giving her a gentle shake.

"Wake up," he repeated, his voice firm this time, "I have something to ask you."

A pause followed—

Then, slowly—

Lunaria stirred.

She pushed herself up lazily, letting out a long, unrestrained yawn as she sat upright, her pink eyes half-lidded and unfocused, her expression carrying the unmistakable haze of someone not entirely present yet. She blinked once, then tilted her head slightly as her gaze landed on Damon, studying him with mild curiosity.

"Do I know you...?" she asked, her voice soft, almost absentminded, "it feels like I’ve seen you somewhere..."

Damon closed his eyes for a brief moment, his hand rising to his temple as he pressed his fingers against it, as though trying to physically contain the thought forming in his mind.

...This woman.

Damon pressed his fingers lightly against his temple for a brief moment before lowering his hand, his expression shifting into something far more composed, almost playful, as though he had already decided to take advantage of the situation presented to him.

A faint smirk formed on his lips as he spoke.

"Heh... don’t you remember?" he said casually, his tone carrying a teasing seriousness, "I’m your husband... how could you forget that?"

Lunaria blinked.

Once.

Then again.

Her half-lidded eyes widened ever so slightly as the word settled in.

"Husband...?" she repeated softly.

Damon nodded without hesitation, his face completely straight, as though there wasn’t the slightest trace of a joke in what he had just said.

Lunaria’s lips parted into a small "ohh" as she brought her fingers close to her mouth, her head tilting slightly as she processed it, before nodding in quiet acceptance.

"Since how long have we been married...?" she asked innocently.

Damon blinked.

...She actually bought that?

For a brief moment, he simply stared at her.

Then exhaled.

"...Forget it," he muttered under his breath, letting the act drop as he shook his head faintly, deciding not to push that line any further.

"I need your help with something."

Lunaria nodded immediately, her expression returning to its usual calm, almost absent curiosity.

Damon stepped slightly closer, his tone shifting into something more focused as his mind returned to the purpose that had brought him here in the first place.

"I need information about certain materials," he began, choosing his words carefully, "materials that are flexible, body-safe, non-toxic, capable of holding shape under pressure but still soft enough to avoid injury... something that can endure repeated use without degrading easily."

Lunaria listened.

Silently.

Attentively.

Damon continued, his gaze steady.

"Also materials that can transfer vibration efficiently without overheating or causing harm... smooth surfaces, non-reactive to skin, easy to clean... preferably something that doesn’t absorb moisture."

He paused briefly.

Then added more quietly—

"Something... suitable for intimate use."

Lunaria tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanged as she processed the description, her eyes drifting upward for a moment as she thought.

A few seconds passed.

Then—

"There are some materials like that..." she said slowly.

Damon’s eyes sharpened slightly.

"Go on."

Lunaria began listing them, her tone soft yet clear as she recalled from memory.

"Moon-silk gel... it’s soft, flexible, and doesn’t react with the body," she said first, "then there’s Seraphex resin... it holds shape but still has some give to it, and it doesn’t degrade easily."

She paused briefly before continuing.

"Velorin crystal composites can transfer vibration well without heat buildup... though they need proper shaping," she added, "and there’s also Nymphaeum latex... very smooth, non-absorbent, and easy to clean."

Damon listened carefully, each name settling into his thoughts as he began mentally structuring possibilities, his expression growing more focused with every word.

...This might actually work.

He exhaled slowly.

I can trust her knowledge... but I still need to confirm it myself.

"Can I see samples of these materials?" he asked.

Lunaria blinked once.

"In the lab," she replied simply.

Damon nodded.

"Can you take me there tomorrow?"

Lunaria gave a small nod in return, her agreement coming without hesitation.

A faint smile appeared on Damon’s face, one that carried quiet satisfaction rather than excitement.

"Thank you," he said, his tone calm yet genuine, "I owe you another favor now."

He turned, already stepping away.

"I won’t disturb you any further."

With that, he walked off, his figure gradually disappearing into the quiet of the park as his mind continued working ahead, building plans upon plans.

Behind him, Lunaria remained seated on the bench, her half-lidded gaze lingering in the direction he had gone, her expression unreadable for a brief moment before she murmured softly—

"Husband..."

And just as easily as before—

She lay back down.

And fell asleep.

***

Morning unfolded across the academy with a crisp clarity, the early light spilling through tall windows and stretching across the polished corridors as students moved through the halls in steady streams, their voices blending into a low, constant hum. Among them, Damon walked with a noticeably sharper pace than usual, a quiet excitement threading through his otherwise composed demeanor as his thoughts ran ahead of him.

I’m finally taking my first real step toward building a foothold in this world...

A faint curve touched his lips.

...This is going to be interesting.

By the time he reached the weapon hall, the atmosphere had already grown lively, clusters of students gathered around various sections, examining, testing, and discussing the weapons they had selected during the previous lecture. Some spoke with clear satisfaction, their voices carrying a sense of pride as they tested balance and grip, while others seemed less convinced, exchanging uncertain glances as they shifted from one option to another.

"I think I made the right choice... the weight feels perfect," one student remarked, adjusting their stance with their weapon.

"Really? I don’t know... this doesn’t suit me as much as I thought it would," another replied, already moving toward a different display, "I might switch to something faster."

"I heard you can still change in the early phase... better figure it out now than regret it later."

The murmurs continued, weaving into the background as Damon stepped inside, his gaze moving calmly across the glass barriers that housed the various weapons, each one resting within its own compartment like a curated display. His eyes didn’t linger long.

I already know what I want.

Without hesitation, he moved deeper into the hall, his steps steady as he approached a particular section, his gaze settling on a weapon enclosed within a reinforced glass barrier.

A heavy presence.

Solid.

Grounded.

Before he could act—

A voice came from beside him.

"Have you decided on this weapon...?"

Damon didn’t even flinch this time, already accustomed to the instructors’ habit of appearing without warning as he gave a small nod in acknowledgment.

He reached out, pressing the control panel beside the barrier as the glass slid open with a soft mechanical sound, releasing the weapon within.

A black sledgehammer.

He grasped it without hesitation, lifting it smoothly into his hands, the weight settling naturally as though it belonged there, his grip firm as he adjusted it slightly, testing its balance without strain.

Turning his head, he looked toward the man standing beside him.

Instructor Garrick.

Dressed in his usual casual attire—shorts, a loose shirt, and that perpetually unkempt hair—he simply watched, his gaze steady, measuring.

"Is this it?" Garrick asked.

Damon shook his head.

Without another word, he lowered the hammer slightly before walking toward another barrier, his movements unhurried as he activated it and retrieved a second weapon—a small, curved sickle.

Unlike the hammer, this one was light.

Sharp and compact.

He attached it to the latch at his waist, the blade disappearing neatly beneath the white blazer of the academy uniform, concealed yet accessible.

Only then did he glance back at Garrick.

...Why is he so interested in me? Damon thought, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he studied the instructor, who returned the look with the same unreadable calm.

After a brief moment of observation, Garrick finally turned away, his posture loosening slightly as a faint annoyance crept into his tone, his voice rising just enough to address the entire hall.

"I hope all of you have already picked your weapons," he said, his words carrying across the room, drawing attention as conversations gradually quieted, "now for your first lesson..."

He paused briefly, glancing over the students.

"Just write why you picked your weapon," he continued flatly, "whatever your reason is... just write it."