Core Equipment for This Operation—Mascot Costume!

The plan was to take Dad out into a crowded public space while he was fully suited up in a mascot costume for real-world exposure therapy.

First, we’d block off his vision by sealing the peephole on the suit’s head, then have him wear noise-canceling earphones to shut out all sound.

Final step: When he was fully acclimated, the mascot suit would come off, and the therapy would be a success.

A gradual, systematic approach—helping Dad overcome his fear step by step. A perfectly reasonable treatment plan.

…And I had to admit, Qinglan was kind of a genius.

Compared to dating sim heroines, using real, living women for exposure therapy seemed way more effective.

Even Dad had to agree.

So much so that he enthusiastically praised us with:

"Are you demons?!"

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,”
Qinglan continued nonchalantly.
“Perfect timing. I’ll head back now and prep the mascot suit.”

“…Huh? You can just get one overnight?”

“My club has one lying around. And trust me, it’s high-performance—way better than a standard mascot suit.”

…It's a costume, not a Gundam. Who the hell describes a mascot suit in terms of performance?

I saw Qinglan off at the door, watching the tail lights of his red sports car disappear into the distance. When I turned back, I found Dad slumped in a dining chair, cigarette in hand.

He exhaled a long sigh before saying, “Son… Are you really siding with him on this? Since when did you stop looking out for your old man?”

Channeling my inner overbearing parent—the type that signs their kid up for a million extracurriculars—I patted his shoulder and said, “This is for your own good.”

Tears welled up in Dad’s eyes.

"Can you stop using fake internal monologues to mislead the readers?”

“Ahem. Anyway, I wanted to tell you—we’ve got new neighbors, a father-daughter duo.”

“I noticed when I came in.”
Dad frowned, but it wasn’t because of Beihai’s definitely-not-a-mafia-boss vibes.
“Ugh… Knowing there’s a little girl living right next door… I won’t be able to sleep at night.”

…What the hell was this guy saying?

That’s a loli, okay?! A national treasure! A blessing upon humanity!

“Come on, be nice. The guy literally dropped by to introduce himself and even brought a gift.”

I conveniently omitted the fact that our new neighbor was probably a mob boss and grabbed the paper bag off the couch.

“Here, a little something from them.”

“Oh, nice! Butterfly pastries from Nancheng Ji—I love these. Their red bean cakes are great too.”

For the first time in days, Dad actually looked alive again.

The power of food was truly incredible.

“This guy’s got taste,” he murmured, flipping the package over to inspect it. “Nancheng Ji isn’t super well-known, but their stuff is legit.”

“You never buy them, though.”

“Traditional shops like this don’t do online sales. The owners are old-fashioned—they insist on only selling in-store. And you know me…”

I cut him off before he could start spiraling again. “So, if you want to keep enjoying these, you’d better cooperate with your treatment.”
He let out another sigh, his mood dipping again. I gave his shoulder a light punch.

“Alright, alright. When the heat dies down a bit, I’ll go pick some up for you.”

The Next Morning

Qinglan’s red sports car was parked outside way too early.

I watched him struggle to haul a massive package out of his trunk, half-dragging it toward the house.

“Alright, Uncle Chang, put this on.”

Dad tried to flee upstairs to avoid the inevitable, but I was already standing guard at the staircase.

Qinglan unzipped the bag, revealing the high-performance mascot suit—

A dog. A grey-backed, white-bellied dog with a bright red scarf around its neck.

Just looking at it made me want to bury my face in my hands.

It had Rua¹ written all over it.

“This thing’s gonna be boiling hot to wear outside.”

“No worries—we’re heading to Tianping Commercial District’s underground shopping center. Tons of people, but fully air-conditioned.”

With that, Qinglan loaded both me and my reluctant father into his car, driving us straight to the underground parking lot of the shopping center.

The second Dad stepped out, fully suited up in his dog mascot form, he started glancing around nervously.

Even with his face hidden, his aura screamed I want to run.

“Here, put these on.”

The mascot head was oversized, so the inside had plenty of breathing room.

“I’m wearing gloves. Can’t put them in myself.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

I reached inside the dog head, fumbling around for his ears before slotting in a pair of in-ear headphones.

The earphones were connected to a voice chat app—just me and Qinglan on the other end.

We could talk to Dad, but he couldn’t hear anything else unless we let him.

Next, I grabbed a black cloth and tied it over the dog mascot’s eyes.

“Wait, Kai—you’re covering where?”

“The eyes?”

“But the peephole for visibility is the mouth.”

“…Oh.”

Peeking through the slightly open dog mouth, I caught a glimpse of Dad’s very human eyeballs staring back at me.

Since the muzzle stuck out too much to wrap a cloth around, the blindfold kept slipping.

“Use this instead.”

Qinglan handed me…

…a ball gag.

I froze.

“…Dude. Isn't this… uh… you know… a certain kind of item?”

Without a word, he motioned for me to strap it on.

I hesitated, but in the end, I fastened the leather straps around the dog’s muzzle. The rubber ball fit snugly between its upper and lower jaw, perfectly blocking Dad’s vision.

…But now, instead of a cute dog mascot, he just looked like he was into some very questionable hobbies.

“…Qinglan. Why. The hell. Do you have one of these lying on your car?”

“Ahaha… Hahaha…”

“That’s not an answer.”

…Rich people had some interests that a broke city kid like me would never understand.

“How’s it feeling, Uncle Chang?” Qinglan asked, gripping Dad’s left arm.

“I can’t see or hear a damn thing. This is freaking me out as hell.”

I grabbed his right arm. “Alright. We’re heading up. Once you feel comfortable in this state, we’ll take the earphones out.”

…“Watch your step.”

…“Entering the elevator now.”

With Qinglan and me guiding him, Dad staggered his way through the shopping center’s underground level, bumping into things here and there.
And then—

A crowd started gathering.

The blindfolded, ball-gagged dog mascot was an instant spectacle.

Qinglan, completely unfazed, reached into his fourth-dimensional inventory and whipped out a stack of full-color flyers.

Then, before I could process what was happening, he slapped one onto Dad’s belly and started handing them out to the curious onlookers.

“Hey, Kai, help me out.”

He shoved a stack into my hands.

I glanced down at the flyer—

Illustrations of frilly-clad magical girls wielding staffs, battling grotesque monsters in a chaotic battlefield.

“Magical Girl Paradise?”

“Yup! My club’s main manga series. There’s a big con next week, and we’ve got a booth.”

From the looks of it, despite all the frilly costumes, this was some ultra-violent magical girl action series. One of the monsters had its brains blown out across the page—definitely not your standard sparkly friendship plot.

By "big convention," he meant ComicUP²—or CP for short. But given the flesh-melting heat outside, the last thing I wanted was to squeeze into a packed venue filled with sweaty nerds.

“…Hold on. Weren’t we here to treat my dad?”

"Yeah, and we still are. But I also have other things to do today."

"So you’re telling me… my dad is now a walking advertising board?"

"Ehehe~ It’s working out surprisingly well, don’t you think?"

…Rich people were dangerous. Before you even realized it, you’d already walked into their schemes.