Chapter 4

Dishes, laundry, cleaning, ironing, cooking.

If I listed every little thing, the list would never end—but broadly speaking, that covers it.

Housework. That’s my job while Shin’s off at university.

“Dishes are done. Next up: hanging the laundry.”

I don’t cut corners.

The point of doing chores is to eliminate discomfort. And discomfort risks breaking the mind control, so slacking off isn’t an option.

“…Damn, this place is well-equipped.”

I muttered to myself while pulling clothes from the washing machine.

The machine in front of me had more buttons than a spaceship. According to the manual, its selling point was “precision cycles tailored to fabric types.” Built-in dryer, massive capacity, near-silent operation—light-years ahead of the clunky model I vaguely remember from my childhood home.

“Yeah, this guy’s definitely loaded.”

And it wasn’t just the washer.

Every appliance in this house screamed money.

I might’ve been yanked into another world at 14 and stuck there for six years, but even I know maintaining a setup like this isn’t cheap.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh—”

Mood: elated.

I’m using all this high-end stuff for free.

That’s the best part—free. Technically, I’m leeching off Shin. Exploiting him with underhanded mind control.

After years of being used like a tool in that hellhole, finally being the one in control? Delicious.

Controlling this idiot was absolutely the right choice.

"~♪~"

I hummed while working, then flopped onto the sofa and turned on the TV—partly for fun, partly to catch up on six years of missed news. Lounging around with snacks? Pure luxury.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh.”

Sure, chores are tedious, but compared to the other world? This is heaven.

No starving. No crawling through mud to fight monsters. No collecting mangled corpses of so-called comrades after battle.

What a paradise.

I reached into the snack bowl. The crisp snap of the treat between my teeth? Bliss.

“…Oh? Time flies.”

A show ended. I glanced at the clock—time to start dinner.

In the kitchen, I unpacked ingredients.

All bought by Shin, of course. Another free meal.

I threw together a dish using fridge leftovers. Cooking’s one of my strengths—my parents were always busy, so I learned early. In the other world, not knowing how to cook meant dying.

I didn’t cook for others back then, so I worried about the seasoning at first. But Shin keeps scarfing it down with that dumb grin, so I must be doing fine.

“I’m hooome—”

The door creaked open, followed by that familiar idiotic voice.

Ah. The fool returns.

I turned off the stove, wiped my hands, and headed to the entryway. Time for greetings—and a mind control check.

His voice sounded normal, but daily verification is crucial.

“Welcome back.”

I put on a smile. Shin grinned back, as sloppy as ever.

Not a hint of suspicion.

And the mind control? Still going strong.

God, he’s pathetically easy to fool.

“Heh.”

“Hm? You seem cheerful.”

I’d laughed under my breath. Of course he noticed.

Oh, I am. Thanks to you.

I gave a vague reply and returned to the kitchen.

Now then—better cook something tasty.
Wouldn’t want the brainwashing to wear off.