The PC shuddered. There was a sound like a million spam emails screaming at once. Then— silence .

“Yeah,” Kazu said, blinking. “Huh.”

The third voice was a soft, moist squelch . —the family’s pet slime. A pervert. A gelatinous degenerate who had somehow gained sentience exclusively through absorbing residual data from the PC’s hard drive. Ero’s body was translucent pink, and inside it floated a single, cursed artifact: a badly pixelated image of a bunny girl that had been on the desktop since 2003. It pulsed. It throbbed. It yearned .

“Me?” Liliel fired back. “Your little ‘hobby folder’ has seventeen nested folders labeled ‘homework.’ Even I blushed, and I’m a six-winged seraph!”

He reached into his pocket. Pulled out a —unopened, still in shrink wrap, bought by his mother in 2011 and never used.

“You’ve been in a raid since the Obama administration.”