Chapter 18
A few days, or perhaps a few hours.
It was only that much time.
And yet I felt terribly anxious.
[……Ah.]
But fortunately, it seemed our boss hadn’t forgotten I existed.
[Looks like you got yourself a terminal.]
“Yes. So I had no choice but to borrow some bills from the counter. Let’s say I took an advance on my part-time wages; I’ll put it back later.”
[Go ahead. You’re the manager of that grocery store, anyway.]
Contrary to my worries, Christine was treating me exactly as she had when we first met.
I pictured Christine’s indifferent face beyond the invisible screen of the terminal.
[On the other hand, tell me if you run out of money. I haven’t checked, but it’s not as though business is doing particularly well, is it?]
“That’s true, but….”
At this point, I couldn’t help but ask.
Most businesses exist for the sake of ‘profit.’
With the sole exception of charitable organizations.
“Is that really all right? You must be spending quite a lot just on that grocery store.”
[I’m not doing it to make money…. If I’d intended to make money in the first place, I wouldn’t have opened a grocery store there.]
I caught a glimpse of the grocery store’s shocking origin story.
[It’s a hobby, anyway. Ah, I never told you that, did I? That place is just a hobby. One I don’t care if it fails.]
Holy moly.
No wonder there were so many strange things about it.
“A hobby?”
[Yeah, a hobby. I was originally planning to run it unmanned, but since I found you in the junkyard, I figured I might as well count it as saving one more person.]
“I’m extremely grateful, at least from my perspective, but.”
Who runs a grocery store as a hobby?
And in a famously notorious slum, at that.
[You disposed of all the expired products just as I told you to, right?]
“O-of course.”
[Why are you stammering? Don’t tell me….]
I found myself at a loss for words.
I had disposed of them properly.
Just not in a trash can—in the stomachs of the homeless.
[You handed the food out yourself?]
“…Yes, ma’am.”
I had nothing to say, even with ten mouths.
This was the very thing Christine had warned me about beforehand.
Thinking about it, I had been a complete failure as a grocery store manager.
I hadn’t even properly guarded the grocery store, and I had opened a free soup kitchen that handed out expired products to the homeless.
If Christine had been able to reach through the terminal and grab me by the collar, she might have shouted, “WHY YOU LITTLE…!” like in that cartoon with the yellow-skinned family.
‘My self-employed life is ending here.’
It was a shame, but from now on, it seemed better to find a broker’s office and climb the tech tree of 『The Mercenary Industry’s Rising Star』, 『The Rising Sun』, and 『THE City’s Legend』.
Yeah, who needed a part-time job in a cyberpunk world?
I had just been thinking that this was the perfect chance to evolve from Hotdog Man into Corndog Man, since I was sick of being called Hotdog Man, when—
[Hmm…. Well, it can’t be helped. Once I’d put someone in charge of the store, I knew I couldn’t rule out variables like that.]
“…Thank you!”
[So, smooth out that face of yours.]
Although we were only on a voice call and she couldn’t see my expression, Christine chuckled as if she could see me.
I felt like I’d heard her say the same thing last time.
A light snort traveled through the terminal’s signal and tickled my ear.
She didn’t seem upset.
Or perhaps she had simply expected me to cause trouble no matter what.
[Since you mentioned handing out the food, I’ll tell you this: that grocery store was originally created to distribute decent food to the people in that neighborhood.]
…What?
[I told you it was a hobby. But I also couldn’t let it interfere with the grocery store’s business, so I told you to throw the expired products in the trash.]
“Which means….”
[The only difference is whether you leave it there for people to take themselves or hand it out personally.]
Christine continued matter-of-factly.
[Of course, I can’t let a few idiots kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. That’s why I put in the security turret.]
“Hmm….”
I thought briefly before continuing.
“Or should I just throw them away from now on? There might be trouble later.”
[Forget it. What deranged corporation would care about reports coming out of District 49?]
Unlike Michael’s concerns, Christine’s reaction was utterly calm.
[The city laws set by the municipal government, the corporate laws the companies made for themselves…. The relevant regulations are a little complicated, but it’s all a matter of justification.]
“Justification?”
[Yeah. Unless someone makes an issue of that part, there won’t be any major problem─.]
That was when Christine’s words were interrupted.
Boom….
A heavy sound came through the terminal.
The sound of something falling.
It was remarkably similar to the noise at a construction site where explosives had been planted.
“…Are you working on something right now?”
[Ah, sorry. I’m at work right now.]
Oops. I’d been holding up a busy person.
Knowing Christine’s personality, she seemed more like a salary Sherlock than a salary thief.
I had no idea what kind of work she was doing to make sounds like bombs going off.
[It’s fine. It’s not as though I’m pressed for time.]
Boom…. Boom….
Apparently, it wasn’t a sound that was supposed to be audible.
But if she said it was, who was I, a third party, to argue?
[So what did you call about? You didn’t just call because you were excited about getting a terminal, did you? If that’s really the reason, it’d be a little funny.]
Once again, a moment of crisis had arrived.
Technically, this wasn’t my fault,
but I had definitely been the cause.
“The grocery store entrance….”
[The entrance?]
I couldn’t bring myself to explain it in words.
I sent Christine a photo of the completely destroyed grocery store.
───────────────
Title: [No Title]
(Photo of a grocery store with its entrance wide open)
(Photo taken from another angle)
(Photo of Michael making a V sign)
(A cone bearing a depressed-looking frog face)
───────────────
Ah, I sent the last photo by mistake.
Anyway.
Michael had gotten the homeless to clear away some of the broken debris, but the entrance was still gaping open.
Christine fell silent for a moment, apparently checking the message I had sent.
[…Did some kind of high-explosive shell go off?]
Wow, that was the first time I’d ever heard Christine’s voice tremble.
Even she couldn’t help but be flustered by this unprecedented situation.
“It wasn’t a bomb, but a truck missile did hit us.”
[Are you all right?]
“Fortunately.”
[Well, of course. Otherwise, you couldn’t have called me….]
Christine quietly sighed.
[How did it end up like this?]
“It’s a little complicated to explain in words.”
I had handed out a whole load of food because of the family of a poor, starving girl, and then a gang leader who couldn’t stand by and watch had pressed the truck missile button and attacked the grocery store….
There was no way Christine would understand such a bizarre series of events.
After thinking it over for a moment,
I summed it up in a single sentence.
“Some pervert was targeting a little kid, so I got involved helping her, and that’s how it happened.”
Perfect explanation complete.
PROFIT!
[…That’s a story I’d like to hear in detail when I have time. Not now, later.]
“Yes. Then I’ll give you the whole story later.”
[Got it. I’ll contact a building repair company myself.]
Phew.
That solved yet another troublesome problem.
Nova sometimes looked toward the wide-open wall with sad eyes (lenses).
It should be all right now.
“Anyway, I’m sorry about this.”
[You did a good thing. What’s there to apologize for?]
Christine chuckled softly, and
I let out another awkward “Ha ha ha,” and.
A brief silence soon descended.
“…….”
[…….]
Only the sound of our breathing through the terminal told me that the call had not ended yet.
The neon sign’s shadow grew longer and longer.
I suddenly took in the dazzling cityscape visible in the distance.
Holographic billboards in the sky displayed brazen words and images,
while flyers that seemed to be made of magic moved through the air on their own, playing flesh-colored videos,
and beyond them stood a forest of skyscrapers with no visible end, piercing through sticky, smog-laden clouds and dyeing the entire city.
But.
Like the relationship between a movie and an audience sitting in a theater, District 49 and the city center were also worlds apart.
Only the crackle of sparks from a dying barrel fire sounded real.
I quietly opened my mouth.
“May I ask you just one question?”
There was no answer, but I took it as though she had heard me anyway.
I scratched at the scar remaining on the back of my neck.
The wound whose swelling had completely gone down, leaving behind only a rough sensation.
“…What kind of treatment did you give me?”
It wasn’t a fundamental question.
I wasn’t asking why I had fallen into a game, but about the current state of my body.
“This obviously isn’t normal.”
Leaving aside the fact that my personality had become somewhat more hot-blooded.
Even a small 9mm bullet carried at least 400 J of kinetic energy—enough force to pierce muscle and break bone.
But that bullet hadn’t pierced me.
It had even crawled out on its own, as if it knew to read the room.
(Meaning it popped out as the hole closed.)
There was a reason Bogus had suspected I was a magic user.
Although I didn’t even know whether I had magic in my body.
[Hmm…. There can’t be anything good for you in hearing about it.]
“I can’t help being curious, though.”
[‘Curiosity killed the cat.’]
“And the box, too.”
[…??]
It was a joke based on Schrödinger’s cat, but unfortunately, she didn’t seem to understand it.
[All right. I’ll tell you.]
“Thank….”
[Later. Not now.]
That “later” of hers.
“…But I’m curious now.”
[You’re still only Level 0, for goodness’ sake. I told you, I’ll explain everything when the time comes.]
I frowned at the unit that had suddenly appeared.
In the open-world action RPG 【Risk City】, it was an obvious fact that leveling was important.
But the level she mentioned didn’t seem to mean that.
…Rumble.
And then another roar rang out.
[I really should hang up now. Call me if you need anything else. I’ll save your number.]
“No, after turning me into Captain America….”
Click—the call ended.
I stared at the terminal’s dark screen and let out a deep sigh.
…….
What a way to act toward Christine, who had picked me up, looked after me, taken care of me, and even saved my life.
It wasn’t as though I were a child throwing a tantrum.
I was tormented by a bitter sense of self-reproach.
But what was I supposed to do when it kept bothering me?
“Tsk….”
The moment I began dwelling on my mistake,
【Increased chance of a special random encounter!】
Yeah, yeah.
Something was bound to happen.
I idly brushed off the woman’s voice, which had become familiar by now.
Still leaning against the building’s railing, I stared blankly up at the strange sky of the cyberpunk world.
“Life….”
They say no one knows what lies ahead in life.
It was true.
Who could have known that merely buying a game at 75% off would become the original sin that led me to live in its world?
Would I end up living here for the rest of my life?
“I really have no idea….”
A gloomy emotion completely out of character for me covered both my body and mind.
At the same time, my stomach growled.
“…I’m starving like hell again.”
I was depressed, so I ate….
That phrase fit the situation perfectly.
Paradoxically, that hunger also made me feel that I was alive right now.
Yeah, I had to eat to live.
Not rice but bread, anyway.
Nothing would be solved by sitting here miserably agonizing.
The Bogus gang problem was over, and Christine had said she would handle the wrecked grocery store herself.
All that remained was to roll around in the warehouse and play with my terminal.
I was certain of it.
* * *
The next morning.
I was talking with Michael, who now naturally came to work at the grocery store.
“So someone who knows how to throw a punch is called Level 1?”
“Yes, well…. Rank, hierarchy, circle—people call it different things, but as far as I know, ‘level’ is the most common term.”
“Oh-ho….”
Indeed, a walking Namu Wiki.
That resolved the question that had arisen during my call with Christine.
“The conditions for leveling up are….”
At that moment, a luxurious limousine stopped in front of the grocery store.
【Special random encounter occurred!】
…That startled me.
Random encounter, my ass.
I never thought I’d see a car moving through the streets of Old Town.
Seriously.
I’d seen airships flying through the sky these past few days, but never a car.
Screeech.
They say simplicity is the height of sophistication, right?
The neatly black-painted limousine had a design that made it seem as though even bumping into it would put my life up as collateral.
The sudden appearance of the limousine made me forget even the basic duty of a part-timer: saying, ‘You can’t park here.’
I simply gaped at the car.
And then.
Bzzzzzz….
The rear-seat window opened just a crack.
An envelope bearing an old-fashioned pattern poked out through the gap.
…….
What was I supposed to do with it?
As I was having that carefree thought, someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
When I turned around, Michael was pointing at the envelope protruding from the limousine window.
“…I believe it would be best if you accepted it.”
“Do I really have to?”
“If it’s what I think it is, absolutely.”
I didn’t want to.
…It won’t explode, will it?
I accepted the envelope very carefully.
The limousine window soon closed, and the vehicle silently followed the road back the way it had come.
Michael approached me from behind again, his eyes widening as he examined the picture on the envelope.
“Yes, it is an invitation.”
“An invitation?”
“…You don’t happen to know this emblem?”
When I frowned, Michael hurriedly added,
“A depiction of a bullet, its trajectory, and a trigger. I’m certain.”
Unlike the usually composed Michael, he looked tense.
“…It’s the crest of the Sparo Rapido family.”
“Um, I’m genuinely asking because I don’t know. When you say family….”
“Yes.”
Michael nodded.
“The mafia.”