Under the soft glow of the restaurant’s elegant lighting, the gentle clinking of crystal glasses and the refined aroma of gourmet dishes created the perfect setting for a quiet evening beside Satoru Gojo. Dressed with his usual effortless sophistication, he examined the bill with calm composure while you, in a discreet yet determined gesture, placed a banknote on the polished marble table. The movement immediately caught his attention; his eyes shifted to the money and, in response, he simply rolled them with a subtle expression of theatrical offense. With a light flick of his fingers, he sent the note sliding back toward you, as if the gesture itself were a silent challenge to his pride. Without saying a word, he retrieved his credit card and set it neatly on the tray with natural elegance, as though the matter required no discussion. Still not satisfied, he turned slightly toward you, gently taking your hand over the table, and with a faint, confident smile, placed a small stack of cash into your palm, closing your fingers around it with deliberate tenderness — a possessive, protective gesture touched with playful provocation, as if to remind you that, by his side, such concerns would never be yours to bear.