Hearing Haruto's earnest words—
Miku was momentarily stunned, then a light shone brightly in her eyes. But alas, that light only lasted for a moment before dimming swiftly.
Perhaps, since becoming a Spirit, Haruto was the first person to genuinely praise her singing.
That alone brought Miku immense joy.
Yet, it wasn't enough to erase the pain rooted deep within her heart. The suffering she endured couldn't be undone by a few kind words.
Haruto understood that well.
As the saying goes, "Don't urge others to be kind if you haven't suffered as they have."
Especially since the one speaking those words was a rare exception—a "woman"—rather than the collective that had most deeply wounded Miku: "men."
It made it all the more impossible to dispel the psychological shadows haunting her.
When it came to Miku's trauma, androphobia, and her warped sexual orientation—they were, in fact, all rooted in the same source.
Before becoming a Spirit, Miku had already been a famous songstress.
But fame, once it reaches a certain threshold, inevitably attracts capitalists seeking profit. And to "monetize" her, they pressured her to appear on shady variety shows and "private promotions."
They even intended to use her body as a bargaining chip for resources.
Yet, at the time, Miku was completely naïve—a pure-hearted girl.
She didn't understand the traps hidden in her contracts and had no real way to resist. But selling her body for resources was something she simply couldn't accept.
Thus, when she rebelled against the interests of her backers—she was met with the entertainment industry's standard retaliation.
First came the "freezing"—shutting down all her channels to the public.
Then, a storm of slander and scandalous rumors erupted. They branded her as a disgraceful, scandal-ridden idol.
This sudden and baseless mudslinging proved extremely effective.
Her popularity instantly turned into a death sentence.
A massive online "flaming" campaign ensued.
Due to her performance style, over 90% of Miku's fans were male.
A ridiculous percentage—but one deliberately cultivated by her management and PR team.
Even though she worked hard to improve her talents, marketing had always emphasized her beauty and purity.
And once the slander spread, painting her as promiscuous behind the scenes—
Her fans felt betrayed.
Naturally, the flame war intensified.
Even those who had never heard of her jumped on the bandwagon after reading a few rumors.
The snowball effect spiraled out of control.
Many people used it to vent their own bitterness.
Some, smelling blood, began to feast on the tragedy—profiting from guiding the flames for traffic and attention.
With the scale of the backlash and the reversal of her image—
During the days of being "frozen," Miku was plunged into overwhelming despair. Suicidal thoughts plagued her repeatedly. She could no longer sing normally.
She developed a deep aversion to men—her largest fan demographic—and her sexual orientation was twisted from that trauma.
Had the world operated "normally"—Miku might have killed herself.
And then her death would have spread online as gossip.
The haters would feel morally justified, thinking they had "purged evil."
The corporations would exploit her death to draw in new traffic and profit from the coverage.
Even her death would become a tool—a feast of blood, metaphorically speaking.
Fortunately, the world didn't operate "normally."
So, after a suicide attempt—Miku became a Spirit.
This was the tragic tale of the songstress called Miku.
"Hehe… actually, I didn't like standing on stage that much anyway, so I might as well quit. Even though the breach-of-contract fee is huge, I have some savings—so it's not a problem. Instead of running around, I'd rather just stay by Lady Yuriko's side. Hehehe…"
As she spoke, Miku threw a flirtatious glance at Haruto.
But her lies were nowhere near as convincing as Hoshino Ai's had been.
She couldn't fool Haruto.
This girl clearly loved being on stage and longed to continue her life as a songstress.
Her flirtatious banter was just a flimsy veil for her disappointment and unwillingness to give up.
Haruto gave her a long, deep look.
He said nothing more.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward Origami.
The moment Haruto's attention shifted away, Miku could no longer keep up her façade. Her expression collapsed into desolation.
She slightly lowered her head and subtly retreated into a corner—as if trying to make herself invisible.
Yet, as a songstress, she once craved being in the center of everyone's gaze.
"Tobichii…"
Haruto had just started to speak when Origami leaned in close, staring intensely at him.
With a serious gaze, she declared—
"Call my name."
This silver-haired, expressionless girl said each word with clear emphasis.
Her eyes blazed with a strange fervor, as if demanding something outrageous.
Haruto's lips twitched.
"Alright… Origami."
Upon hearing her name spoken, Origami appeared deeply satisfied.
Even if she showed no expression from start to finish.
"Origami, can you share with me what you know about the parallel reality you're from? If the Foundation is permitted to access your equipment system and extract data, that would be even better."
Haruto was genuinely interested in Origami's world.
A parallel world with a complete supernatural organizational structure—with a Global Occult Coalition, SCP Foundation, and even Spirits.
Surely, its information would be of great reference value for the main world.
Origami paused briefly, then nodded.
Although the Global Occult Coalition had strict confidentiality rules—the moment the world changed, priorities had to shift.
So Origami began describing her original world to Haruto. It too was a version of Earth, with similar national structures…
Even the geography was nearly identical.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have crossed into another world without realizing it.
In her childhood, Origami had no knowledge of anomalies.
Her world also enforced strict information suppression regarding anomalies.
However, unlike the main world which protected humanity—
The GOC feared the consequences of the general public learning about anomalies—
Believing it would create instability and threaten their control.
Then, one day—
Origami's home was engulfed in an anomalous outbreak.
A rampaging Spirit killed her parents—and tens of thousands nearby.
She was the sole survivor of the incident.
She was taken into custody by the GOC for investigation.
There, she demonstrated an exceptional aptitude for combat and adaptability with equipment.
She was recruited into the GOC as a field operative.
Unfortunately, Origami had little knowledge about anomalies.
The GOC's motto was to terminate all anomalies.
They didn't study anomalous properties—only how to destroy them.
Meanwhile, the SCP Foundation, which housed vast data on anomalies, had a poor relationship with the GOC.
Haruto listened quietly to her story.
Even though she tried to recount it as objectively as possible—Haruto could still feel Origami's deep hatred for anomalies, especially Spirits.
It was understandable.
Her equipment's was handed over to the Foundation for analysis.
Given the Foundation's overwhelming technological superiority, deciphering it wouldn't take long.
And just as the two were conversing—Miku quietly slipped away.
Her heavy mood left her not even in the mood to tease anymore. Not long after she left, Haruto paused and gently patted Origami's head.
"I'm going to check on her. She's in a dangerous emotional state right now."
Origami looked puzzled.
"Why are you so concerned… about an anomaly?"
In Origami's eyes, anomalies were the source of all misfortune and should be eradicated.
Haruto shook his head.
"We contain, we secure, we protect. The containment of anomalies is so that we not only know what they are, but why they are. Instead of focusing on revenge after an anomaly breaks out, what's more important is to investigate the cause and prevent it from happening again."
Upon hearing this, Origami felt a great upheaval in her heart for the first time.
Yes, she absolutely never wanted what had happened to her to happen to someone else.
But even after being active in the GOC for many years, she had not seen any decrease in anomaly outbreaks—on the contrary, they had become even more frequent.
At that moment, Haruto waved his finger and continued,
"Besides, what if, one day, Origami becomes a Spirit too? Even if you do no harm, does that mean you should be executed?"
Origami blinked her big eyes, speechless for a moment.