There was a slight trace of the Witch's Scent. Revolting—enough to make you want to flatten him with a morningstar. He might have some ulterior motive, or there might be some other circumstances at play. She'd only know once he woke up.
The younger of the twin maids sweeping the hallway—blue-haired Rem—stared at the room where Subaru rested for a long while before turning to continue her rounds.
Then she noticed a trail of child-sized shoe prints stamped all over the floor she'd just mopped.
"…"
"An unfamiliar ceiling." After deploying that ancient meme, Subaru sat up and scanned his surroundings.
At least it seemed like he hadn't reset again. That was the case, right? But his pre-blackout memories felt like a fever dream. Running into a woman monstrously stronger than any human, getting utterly crushed, staring down another death—and then the little girl from the very beginning had burst in, used some unknown technique, and blown the killer along with a huge swath of street into oblivion…
Subaru opened the door and stepped out.
"Stinky and stupid person." Yimi happened to be passing by and greeted him.
"What is that cute little mouth of yours even saying?!" Subaru squeezed his own face with both hands. The pure, innocent, adorable cat-loli in his mind shattered to pieces.
He remembered now. The most dreamlike part had been the child suddenly barging into the scene and, in her cute little voice, unleashing a remarkably foul insult. Though from her perspective, what he'd done absolutely deserved the scolding.
Subaru slapped his cheeks and rallied. "A kid who talks like that is going to lose cuteness points, you know. At least call me 'Subaru-oniichan,' yeah?"
Yimi turned her face away, then turned back.
She still hadn't figured out what was wrong with this person. The only thing she had that could even remotely count as "knowledge-based power" was the Magical Girl technology she'd traded for with Kyubey, and the applications of Miracle.
Not noticing her odd expression, Subaru stretched. "Is this your house? How's Satella doing?"
"This is Diego's, lair." Yimi answered unhappily.
"Diego?"
"An enemy. He has a thing that lets him, travel between worlds."
"Travel between worlds?" Subaru was stunned.
Right—compared to the "getting hit by a truck" trope, "walking out of a convenience store and suddenly being in another world" was way too absurd. Had he been summoned? Had this Diego person done it?
That had to be it. Maybe Diego even knew the source of his reset ability.
"Where is he now?" Subaru's brain went blank for a second.
And then what? Ask to go home? That was impossible—if Diego had brought him to another world, there had to be a reason. Besides, did he really want to go back? A truant shut-in who hoped nobody expected anything of him… maybe he'd be worth more in this world. But his parents were healthy, loving, and cared about him deeply…
"Over there." Yimi pointed him in a direction, paying no mind to his internal conflict, and headed toward Beatrice's library.
"Why are you back again? I told you there are no picture books here." Beatrice was as expressionless as ever, looking up at Yimi.
Yimi sidled closer, hand outstretched. "Your book—let me take a look."
"Why should Betty indulge your curiosity?" Beatrice paused mid-page-turn and studied Yimi. "Don't tell me this generation's Roswaal has started breeding with demi-humans and produced a little brat like you?"
"Breeding?" The cat was curious.
A faint blush crossed Beatrice's face before she redirected her gaze to the book. "Don't fixate on irrelevant words. In any case, you don't resemble Roswaal in the slightest."
"Then, are you Diego's accomplice?" Yimi took a step back, putting a bit more distance between herself and Beatrice.
The last person who'd been Diego's accomplice was the fake grandmother, who'd told her Diego was innocent—and then turned out to be the final boss and fought her.
"In all of my known memory I have absolutely no idea what this 'Diego' of yours even is. Most likely something you heard in some fantasy of yours. Honestly, why does Betty have to sit here and seriously explain this to a child?" Beatrice closed her book, her cold demeanor thawing noticeably. "Brother should be back by now. Betty needs to go greet him."
She turned to leave—and saw Yimi covering her mouth, clearly trying to minimize her own presence.
"…What is that 'I'll steal your Tome of Wisdom the second you leave' face supposed to mean? You think Betty would leave you in here?"
"Cats don't steal things." Yimi retorted, then latched onto the key phrase. "Tome of Wisdom?"
"Tch."
Realizing she'd let it slip, Beatrice's small face scrunched. "If that's what you came for, I suggest you give up now. Honestly, why does Roswaal let such a suspicious child wander in?" She studied Yimi—smaller than even herself—for another moment, connecting the dots with Yimi's direct approach. "I know it's unlikely, but you wouldn't happen to be 'That Person' Betty has been waiting for?"
"That Person?"
"Forget it." Beatrice gently pushed Yimi's shoulder, steering her toward the exit. "I'll hand you off to Roswaal. You're just a little brat, yet you're interested in the Tome of Wisdom."
"Because Diego's book, looks the same as yours." Yimi tried braking with her shoes against Beatrice's push.
"This 'Diego' of yours wouldn't happen to be one of the Witch Cult's Sin Archbishops, would he?"
The Sin Archbishops of the Witch Cult—every last one of them a deranged lunatic universally despised. They carried replicas of the Tome of Wisdom called "Gospels." Though Beatrice's and Roswaal's copies weren't originals either, they were leagues above those ultra-degraded Gospel knockoffs.
Their function was essentially limited future prediction of the holder's surroundings.
"Can the Tome of Wisdom travel between worlds?" Yimi pressed.
"Where do you even get these bizarre ideas? The only thing this does for Betty is tell her when she can finally stop guarding this library." Beatrice was growing impatient.
She'd told this mysterious child far too much already. Who knew what the girl was really here for?
But even in the worst case—if this brat had come to kill her—that would be fine, too. Killing her would qualify the girl as "That Person" and free Betty from her duty of guarding this place.
"Mm."
Yimi didn't believe her. And before anyone noticed, she was already holding the Tome of Wisdom. She cracked it open and peered inside.
"My book? When did you—!" Beatrice stumbled back, conjuring Minya and aiming it at Yimi. "You little brat! And you said you don't steal! Put it down right now. Hand it back and I can still write this off as a child who doesn't know any better."
"I didn't steal it." Yimi pointed at Beatrice's table.
Beatrice looked. At some point, Yimi had used Storage Space to deposit a huge pile of wild grass on her desk.
Yimi flipped through the book. "The back half, doesn't have any words."
What kind of book was this? Was it even really a book?
"Of course not. It's been four hundred years since any text appeared in Betty's book." Beatrice clutched her chest, pained. "As if to say 'That Person' will never come, and Betty must stand guard here for the rest of her life."
Her mother had told her: guard this place until "That Person" arrives. But "That Person" was only "That Person"—no description, no defining feature. And the Tome of Wisdom showed nothing of her own future.
"Mm… you don't want to stay here?"
Beatrice offered no explanation, and Yimi, whose comprehension roughly matched her age, couldn't follow the nuance anyway. She flipped a few more pages, still found nothing suggesting the book could cross worlds, and set it down in frustration.
"If you are 'That Person,' come back and ask me that question again. You've seen for yourself—there isn't a single word written in it. Now give it back. Even if it won't tell Betty when she can leave, it's still something Mother left for Betty."
Strange person. Wanted to leave but insisted the book had to say so. And besides…
Yimi looked down, ears twitching. "Your name is, Betty?"
"Why are you asking that?"
Yimi pulled a black marker from Storage Space, wrote in this world's script on one of the blank pages—"Betty can leave the place full of books"—and handed the Tome back to Beatrice.
"Now it has words."
"?"
A book without words was just a notebook. How was a notebook going to have words if nobody wrote in it? Logic even a cat understands.