Chapter 10
A wave of intense heat rises from the hot dog.
Juice from the main ingredient bursts forth.
The sweet-and-sour ketchup and mustard of capitalism.
Crisp vegetables of unknown origin.
And finally, the soft, cozy texture of the bun enveloping it all.
‘Absolutely perfect.’
The harmony of carbohydrates, fat, and protein.
“Mmm….”
Hot dogs could well be called the most sensible food in the world.
Now that I’m eating it, this is actually really good.
After even giving them a quick turn in the grocery store’s microwave, the category of food known as the hot dog had taken another step toward the pinnacle of excellence.
Hamburgers?
They’re nothing more than hot dog knockoffs.
Anyway.
After putting away about ten hot dogs.
“He sure is eating the hell out of them….”
“Could you give me just one of the leftovers?”
“That guy’s the real deal. He’s not just eating the hot dogs—he’s piling fried food or chicken breast on top of the sausage. …I couldn’t handle that.”
Several homeless people stared at the hot dog I was eating and drooled ravenously.
The nerve….
When I shot them a fierce glare, they all smacked their lips and swallowed sandwiches and the like instead.
“Don’t be so harsh.”
The self-proclaimed young homeless man who had made a large trash can his home—the one who had introduced himself as Michael—spoke up to the others.
“You can spare a hot dog or two, can’t you? He even went so far as to warm up the products before throwing them away.”
“That’s true.”
Eating something like frozen chicken while it was still frozen was difficult.
Feeling sorry for them as they gnawed at the hard food, I had only warmed it in the microwave, but even then, one of the homeless men shed tears of gratitude.
“Sob, Hotdog Man….”
“…How long has it been since I’ve had a warm meal?”
From my perspective, all I’d done was run products I had to throw away through the microwave once and share them with the homeless people instead of dumping them in the trash.
As for ‘THE American-style cyberpunk homeless men’—their bodies covered in tattoos and scars, their filthy beards grown all the way down to their chests—they looked up with round, sparkling eyes like large dogs….
Clap!
Michael clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
“Now, just in case, let me make this clear.”
“What are you going to say this time?”
Normally, well-fed wild animals didn’t act aggressively.
Contrary to what one might expect from people who got by through stealing, robbing, or living out of trash cans, they all quietly listened to Michael.
“Listen up, everyone. Our Hotdog Man did nothing more than throw the food into the trash can. We merely picked it up and put it in our stomachs.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters a great deal. A great deal.”
Whatever he had done before becoming homeless, Michael didn’t hunch his shoulders even with nearly dozens of homeless people staring at him.
As if he were speaking in a debate hall.
He continued speaking with crisp diction and a clear tone.
“Listen closely to what I have to say. Just think how much danger our friend Hotdog Man took to help us.”
I really wished he’d stop calling me that damn Hotdog Man.
“As you all know, in Risk City, the rules laid down by the top ten corporations often carry more weight than the city laws that mostly exist in name only.”
City laws? The top ten corporations?
A flood of unfamiliar terms had appeared, but….
Since no one noticed the question mark floating above my head, Michael continued without stopping.
“That doesn’t mean city laws are never enforced. For instance, the fact that public safety gradually improves as an area’s number gets closer to one is also related to the Public Safety Maintenance Act set out under city law.”
Oh-ho, so there’s something like that.
I was nodding to myself when….
The other homeless people, apparently already familiar with all that, listened to Michael without reacting much.
“Of course, everyone here must have washed up all the way at the bottom for their own reasons. Let’s leave what everyone already knows at that.”
Teacher, I still don’t know.
Since I had been lured by a clickbait post with a busty thumbnail instead of a strategy guide before starting the game, I had no basic background knowledge whatsoever.
What did I know?
All I knew was the poosh-bang bursts of light from the game trailer.
Wow! Mana circuits! Tactical cyberware! Genetically modified monsters!
Even so, it was hard to awkwardly raise my hand and ask a question in such a serious atmosphere.
I simply munched on hot dogs and listened to Michael talk.
“Now, this is where the rules set by the top ten corporations I mentioned earlier become important. The skyscrapers of Risk City are connected to every conceivable field—defense, medicine, transportation, education, manufacturing, communications, and so on.”
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
Another homeless man said exactly what I wanted to say.
So what’s the conclusion?
If possible, give me the three-line summary.
Three lines had already gone by, though.
Michael shrugged without being flustered by the homeless man’s raised voice.
“What we need to be careful about is the food corporation cartel’s rules. You all know places like Mac&Ham, Coil Food, and Soma Company.”
I checked the bag that had contained the hot dogs.
『
Manufacturing and Distribution: Mac&Ham Corporation
』
I see.
Michael, who had seen me checking the bag, pointed at me.
Naturally, all the homeless people’s gazes turned toward me.
“Our Hotdog Man surely knew all this and did it anyway.”
“?”
What do I know?
All I did was throw it away because you asked me to throw it to you instead of into the trash can.
“Under city law and the rules set by corporations, ownership of products past their expiration date basically transfers from the seller to another legal entity owned by the city or corporation.”
“Wow, that’s the first I’ve heard of that.”
I found myself agreeing with the muttered comment.
Me too.
“Corporations don’t separately reclaim the products, so it’s a law that exists only on paper. In the end, as long as the seller throws the discarded products into a trash can and returns them to the city, there’s no problem for the seller.”
…Wait a minute.
“If someone here reported our Hotdog Man, he could end up in legal trouble. The corporation could sue or press charges. Even if it had nothing to do with a food corporation, if someone reported that they got sick from eating donated food in hopes of claiming a reward, the corporation’s specialized response team could come tomorrow, burn down the grocery store, and take Hotdog Man away.”
Michael, perhaps because his throat had gotten a little dry, cleared it softly before finishing.
“…That’s why other stores don’t hand out food they’ve discarded.”
Normally, I would have thought of a joke like, ‘What is this? Is he some kind of scholar? I got a Level 2 on the CSAT too; maybe I can see how I measure up.’
I never imagined I’d face a physical threat over failing to dispose of a few expired products properly.
Murmur, murmur.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t known.
The other homeless people were all looking at one another with serious expressions.
Clap!
Michael clapped once more, drawing the homeless people’s attention.
“As everyone knows, you can never know what’s in someone’s heart. With a hundred people, there are bound to be a hundred different lives.”
“Fuck, yeah. If I hadn’t been betrayed by my partner in Area 23….”
“Yeah. Someone with different ideas could be mixed in among us.”
The atmosphere grew increasingly heated.
More serious, more cautious.
“So what we have to do is simple.”
What the fuck did this guy used to do?
“For tomorrow’s food, for our peace, and to protect Hotdog Man.”
I never said I’d hand out food tomorrow.
It seemed that daily food distribution had already taken root among the homeless as if it were a regular schedule.
“Hotdog Man didn’t hand out expired food to us. He simply threw heated-up garbage into the trash can.”
“Oh, right. That means we just picked it up and ate it.”
Michael bit into a sandwich chilled by the wind.
“And we unite as one.”
Everyone lifted the expired food they were holding above their heads.
I just stared blankly at them.
“Hotdog Man took that risk to help us, who have nothing. Do you understand now? The process behind that act, its result, its noble spirit of self-sacrifice!”
“No, I didn’t think of it that way─”
“The name of the prophet who helped us!!”
Listen to what people are saying.
The homeless people’s gazes were filled with madness.
This might be a harsh way to put it, but they looked a little like they were gazing at a saint who had been sacrificed in a religious ritual.
This is actually starting to scare me.
““Hotdog Man! Hotdog Man! Hotdog Man!””
Should I wave, at least….
As I was about to be crowned honorary mayor of Area 49 thanks to the homeless people’s overwhelming support,
an unexpected sound rang out in my head.
【You have attracted the attention of the Bogus Gang!】
【Increased chance of a special random encounter occurring!】
What the hell is a Gus?
My brow furrowed on its own.
【A random encounter has occurred!】
Before I could even grasp the situation,
“…Why are there so many homeless people here?”
“Ugh, it reeks of garbage. Tch.”
“What are you looking at? Keep your eyes down!”
A broad-shouldered gang of thugs strode over from the opposite side of the lot.
Some of them were the same thugs I had met last time, and after spending several days in this world, I could tell.
The homeless were merely outsiders passing through, while these guys were the real residents of this area.
Just as I expected, the homeless people nearby began slowly backing away as they looked at the thugs who had suddenly appeared.
‘Let’s get the situation straight.’
I couldn’t tell whether they were called the Bogus Gang or the Burgers Gang because I hadn’t heard it properly.
But one thing was clear: these newcomers were connected to that gang.
Unlike usual, the system had specifically called this a ‘special random encounter,’ after all.
They ignored the homeless people around them and stopped in front of me.
Thick muscles, and even triangular trapezius muscles.
One of them was even wearing a mechanical prosthetic with no skin, as if to show off their cyberpunk origins. I wondered how they managed daily life with that Lego-like hand.
They weren’t Captain Hook, for crying out loud.
Anyway, they didn’t look like ordinary civilians.
“Were you the one who gave food to that crazy brat?”
“…Crazy brat?”
How could someone be named Crazy Brat?
Just as I was wondering that,
“You know, the kid you see around this neighborhood. The kid with pitch-black hair who goes around covering their face. We already know everything and came here, so just answer my question.”
I knew which kid the gang was talking about.
What had they been doing?
Were they being chased by a gang or something?
I nodded casually.
“Probably?”
“Ha, figures. I don’t know what organization you belong to, but you’re screwed all by yourself. No, maybe you were used as something meant to be thrown away from the start. I almost feel sorry for you.”
What organization?
The gang heard my answer, pulled pistols from inside their clothes, and aimed them at me.
“Our boss told us to leave a warning. He said a corpse riddled with bullets should do the trick.”
There were three of them in total.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous.
My muscles naturally relaxed.
First, I’d disarm them….
“?”
But before my body could spring into action,
“What the hell are you guys doing!!”
“Hah, you filthy homeless bastards. You’re the ones raising your voices at….”
Their faces turned panicked.
“…Huh?”
Because a wall of dozens of homeless people was bearing down on them.
“How dare you point guns at our Hotdog Man?!”
Homeless men who had appeared from somewhere holding things like metal pipes ambushed the thugs all at once.
Clang!!
The crisp sound of a head cracking.
I got to see firsthand what it meant to be beaten until you kicked up dust—even on a rainy day.
If I were to roughly render this sound in writing, it would be ‘Wham-bam, thud, whackety-whack.’
It wasn’t actually raining, but the blows were that lively and satisfying.
‘Hmm….’
A little while later.
The gang of thugs lay huddled together like Yamcha after being killed by a Saibaman.
Michael, now holding a bat in one hand, stepped forward to face me as the representative of the homeless people.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure no one around here can lay a finger on Hotdog─Man.”
“……”
“Just trust us.”
Then a lively voice rang out.
【Increased chance of a special random encounter occurring!】
I rubbed a dry hand over my face.
* * *
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Title : Having a Support NPC from a Corporation Does Make Things Easier
Even if you exclude the fact that he’s a male character, Michael seems pretty good to use from the start?
His performance is better than expected. Maybe that’s because he’s obtainable through a time-limited event?
─ Where did you meet him?
└ (Author) Area 49, go there.
─ He’s good in every way, but he has a linked trigger for a weird side quest too, so he suddenly goes off on his own.
└ (Author) What does he do?
└ I picked up a side quest to destroy a cult, and he suddenly decided to infiltrate it by himself and went in ahead of me. Later, I found him sitting naturally among the higher-ups.
└ (Author) LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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