Chapter 52: A Girl Without a Touch of Chuunibyou Is Hardly a Girl at All (Please Vote for Recommendations)

Kurumi’s answer was wholly unexpected.

At that moment, Su Mo cried out in shock upon hearing her reply. “My house? You were at my house five years ago? What were you doing there?”

In this world, Su Mo had only one home.

And that was the Itsuka household.

So five years ago, Kurumi had been at the Itsuka house?

“That’s right. Five years ago, I was indeed in the Itsuka home. If you go there now, you’ll see me,” Kurumi’s voice echoed, sounding almost demonic.

Though somewhat perplexed as to why Kurumi would have been at the Itsuka house five years ago, there was no time for Su Mo to dwell on it. He hurriedly got back to his feet and sprinted toward the Itsuka home.

Because, on this timeline, Kotori hadn’t turned into a Spirit, the Itsuka house had fortunately never suffered a fire.

Sneaking quietly into the house, Su Mo saw Kotori sulking in the yard, her face full of gloom. Today was her birthday, but it seemed no one had remembered to give her a present. Even her beloved brother and sister appeared to have forgotten, which made her extremely sad—especially after recently running into two very strange people.

One was completely pixelated, speaking in bizarre gibberish—a most peculiar individual.

The other wielded a sword and, in the end, left on a throne like some alien being.

To be honest, had anyone else seen Phantom in that form, they would have been terrified out of their wits. But Kotori, so innocent and fearless at her age, was not the least bit afraid. In fact, she’d enjoyed quite an animated conversation with Phantom.

If Su Mo hadn’t intervened at the critical moment, Kotori might have accepted the Spirit Crystal Phantom offered and transformed into a rampaging Spirit.

The thought left Su Mo covered in cold sweat. Kotori was simply too naïve at this age.

Unfortunately, this time he had come to find Kurumi from five years ago. Moreover, with his current appearance, he couldn’t let anyone familiar see him, lest he cause unnecessary misunderstandings. So, seeing Kotori’s dejection, he didn’t go over to comfort her but slipped quietly into the Itsuka house.

The spacious house seemed empty.

But that was only natural. Kotori’s parents’ occupations were shrouded in mystery, and they were often away on business trips lasting months, seldom at home. Usually, only Kotori and Shiori lived here, but even after entering, Su Mo didn’t see Shiori—she must have been out.

“By the way, Kurumi, where are you from five years ago?” Su Mo asked silently in his mind. Yet, seeing the familiar Itsuka house, he couldn’t help but head upstairs.

His parents’ room.

Shiori’s room.

Kotori’s room.

Everything was just as he remembered, unchanged. Then his gaze fell on his own old room.

Logically, five years ago, he hadn’t yet crossed into this world. There should be no one named Su Mo in the Itsuka house at that time. Yet, as if guided by fate, he slowly approached his former room, curious: what did his room look like five years ago?

Su Mo had expected the room to be empty, but upon opening the door, he was startled to find a familiar figure inside.

His pupils contracted in disbelief.

Usually, Su Mo prided himself on being inscrutable, never letting his emotions show. Rarely did anything catch him off guard. But this time, he was not merely stunned—he was genuinely alarmed.

Because the person before him was someone he couldn’t have known more intimately.

Though the face was a little younger and the figure somewhat smaller, it was unmistakably his own.

Not that it should be surprising—if he couldn’t recognize himself, it would be a joke.

Yet this Su Mo was clearly a size smaller than he was. Of course, that wasn’t the main issue. The real question was: who was this?

The Lord God had set his backstory as having been adopted by the Itsuka family five years ago and renamed Su Mo Itsuka, but he knew his memories only began at the very start—those supposed five years were a blank.

And he was certain he hadn’t lost his memory. Originally, he assumed the Lord God had simply altered everyone else’s recollections, making them believe he’d been adopted five years ago.

But now, the situation was completely different.

There truly had been a Su Mo living in the Itsuka house during those five years, and that was this imposter standing before him.

“Who exactly are you?” Su Mo was the first to speak, his tone sharp and severe.

Fortunately, this was a Spirit world, where shape-shifting abilities weren’t unheard of.

So while Su Mo was surprised, he wasn’t frightened out of his wits.

Little Su Mo was momentarily stunned to see someone barge in, but when his gaze landed on Su Mo, his eyes suddenly lit up with delight. “Mr. Su Mo?”

That reaction confirmed it—this guy was an imposter.

And he knew Su Mo very well.

Staring at his smaller doppelganger, Su Mo felt a headache coming on. He was supposed to be the protagonist of a light novel, not some supernatural thriller. Why had his recent experiences become so bizarre?

But remembering Kurumi’s words—that she’d been at the Itsuka house five years ago—and seeing a lookalike here...

Could it be...?

There was no need to wonder further, for the little Su Mo instantly revealed her true form, transforming into a young girl.

She looked exactly like Kurumi, though, unlike the Kurumi he knew—who always wore gothic dresses woven from crimson, black, blood, and shadow, exuding elegance and pride like a queen of the night—this Kurumi was dressed in a simple, lacy outfit adorned with frills, her hair loose, bangs neatly trimmed and not covering half her face as before, instead held back by a rose-adorned headband.

Of course, the greatest difference was her face: she wore a white eyepatch over her left eye, as if to conceal the clock face in her iris.

And her aura was utterly peculiar.

The Kurumi he knew was regal and poised, but this Kurumi radiated a thick, almost comical air of adolescent delusion.

“So this is what you were like five years ago,” Su Mo remarked inwardly, amused.

Sure enough, the once-calm Kurumi now shouted in a flustered voice, “P-please! Don’t! Mind! That! At! All!”

Though her face was hidden, it must have been a sight to behold. Indeed, Kurumi was clutching her head in despair—her dark past fully exposed.

As the saying goes, every girl goes through her chuunibyou phase.

Once, Kurumi thought nothing of it and even found it trendy. But now, she could have died of regret—if only she could travel back five years, she’d have erased this embarrassing version of herself.

Meanwhile, the Kurumi of five years past reacted as well.

“My, my, at last I get to meet you, Mr. Su Mo.”

Overcome with excitement, she tried to hug Su Mo, but he deftly dodged.

Even Su Mo was growing exasperated; this chuunibyou Kurumi was clearly not quite right. He felt the veins on his forehead throb as he spoke, “Kurumi, I’m here to ask for your help. I need you to use your twelfth bullet to send me back to the morning of August third.”

“So that’s it? No problem!”

Surprisingly, without a single question, Kurumi nodded in agreement.

The Zafkiel appeared in her hand, and then she raised her gun and fired straight at Su Mo.