<"A Spacequake is a quick and convenient way to travel; it's just that the landing is a bit too brutal andtends to attract a massive swarm of city management." — A certain girl remarked with a perfectly straight face.>
Am I dying?
As his body lurched backward, losing all balance, the boy felt the world tilt. Even with his back to the ground, he knew with terrifying clarity that the back of his head was inches away from a jagged rock. At this speed, there was no doubt: his life is about to end.
"How did it even come to this?" he wondered blankly.
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5:00 AM. Tokyo, Japan. At the venue for Comiket.
Even though the official opening was hours away, a queue spanning hundreds of meters had already formed at the entrance. The boy was stationed near the front of the line. He knew all too well that at an event of this caliber, if you didn't seize the initiative, you'd be left picking up the scraps. He had been camping here since the day before, armed with nothing but water and food. Even so, a small army of people had still beaten him to the punch.
"As expected of Japan. The scale is on a whole different level."
The boy took a sip of water to soothe his parched throat, a flicker of an excited smile dancing on his lips. Curiously, he was speaking Mandarin.
Nobody around him seemed surprised. The Way of the Otaku knows no borders, and the Chinese presence is massive. People can find them anywhere from the motherland to the other side of the planet in the US, so a Chinese kid showing up here wasn't anything strange.
His reason for being here was simple: he loved anime. To reach this holy land, he had spent an entire year preparing. He had worked part-time to scrape together the travel funds, taught himself Japanese, and even faked documentation and all kind of papers(TL:damn) just to get his passport. His dedication to otaku culture was on the line of religious.
However, in his own eyes, he wasn't a "true" otaku ,at least not a qualified one. His parents had both died in accidents years ago, and ever since leaving the orphanage, most of his time was spent working for money. He wasn't like the hardcore shut ins who dedicated every second to the 2D world. At most, he was a closet otaku.
More importantly, he had one major trait that set him apart from the rest of the community: He absolutely loathed Harem series.
In his mind, those protagonists who were so overpowered that the world just accepted their polygamy, or those who prated about making everyone happy, were absolute garbage. To him, those shows were nothing more than shameless cash-grabs exploiting the unfulfilled fantasies of people in reality to boost popularity.
There was nothing wrong with a little daydreaming, if you couldn't land a girl in real life, of course freedom of thought is protected by law in both Japan and China. But perhaps influenced by his late parents' devotion to one another, the boy preferred stories where the lead was loyal to a single heroine. He felt a big disgust toward harem tropes.
To put it into perspective: if a regular otaku accidentally unlocked a Harem Route in a dating simulator, he'd be jumping for joy and posting about it online. This boy, however, would likely take out the disc and toss it straight into the trash.
Ah—sorry, I'm getting sidetracked.
Time flowed steadily as the crowd waited. A sliver of morning sun rose from the horizon, illuminating the silent, dark plaza. The boy packed his gear, stood silently in line, and began his countdown.
The moment the doors opened, he become a hungry wolf.
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Wow! As expected of the world's number one otaku event. A massive haul on all fronts!
By dusk, as the stalls began to close on the first day, the boy let out a satisfied sigh. He stretched his limbs, preparing to head back to his hotel for some much-needed rest.
"Hey, little brother! Wait up!"
A voice called out from behind him. To his surprise, it was fluent, authentic Mandarin. Turning around, he saw a slightly dorky-looking college student in a light blue tracksuit waving at him with a grin.
"You are chinese?" the boy asked, surprised hearing his mother language out of nowhere.
"Yeah! My name is Guan Yuyi. I'm a student here."
Meeting a fellow Chinese in a foreign land brought a sense of kinshipto the boy. "you Need something?"
"Ah, not really!" Yuyi scratched his head, sheepishly grinning. "I just saw everyone else carrying mountain loads of bags while you're walking out empty handed. I was curious, and when I realized you were chinese, I couldn't help but say hi."
It was true. Everyone leaving the venue was lugging at least something. Walking out with nothing was rare.
"You don't actually think I don't bought nothing, do you?"
"Well...."
The boy chuckled. "Brother, you aren't really an otaku, are you?"
Yuyi blinked, then burst into a hearty laugh. "Sharp one! How could you tell?"
The boy didn't bother hiding the secret. "There's no mystery to it. There is only one reason why someone walks out of Comiket empty-handed: they bought so much stuff they couldn't possibly carry it all, so they had to mail it home. That's Otaku Common Sense 101."
The earlier you arrive, the better the selection. And as reward, almost every doujinshi or game the boy found interesting had already been purchased and shipped.
"By mail? Just how much did you buy?"
"Not that much. Maybe about ten orange-crate-sized boxes."
He actually wanted more, but since it was only Day 1, he had to pace himself to avoid a being broke on later day.
"..." After a stunned silence, Yuyi wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and gave a strained laugh. "That... is actually insane."
"It's pretty average, really," the boy waved it off. "So, Mr. Guan, what are you doing here?"
"Me? As you can see, I'm running a stall. I'm covering for my roommate who got food poisoning. Sales are... a bit not good..., though," Yuyi shrugged helplessly.
The boy looked at the stall. It was super generic anime merchandise stall. Comiket was primarily for doujinshi; plus, with a seller who lacked the otaku feel, it wasn't surprising that no one was buying.
"Look, kid, for the sake of a fellow chinese, just pick something anything. I need to give my roommate some kind of report. I'll give you a massive discount."
The boy found the desperate plea hilarious. "Since we're brothers, why not just give it to me for free?"
"I can't really use my friend's stuff to do favors right..?!"
"Fair point."
The boy look at the merchs. Most of it he either already owned or featured characters he didn't care for much. Just as he was about to buy some random stuff to be polite, a specific box caught his eye.
"Mr. Guan, can I see this one?"
"Sure thing!"
He picked up the box and look inside. It was a figurine of a girl with waist-length brown hair and large, amber eyes. A confident, composed smile graced her delicate face. She wore a black trench coat, but underneath was the uniform of the prestigious Tokiwadai School from A Certain Scientific Rxxlgun.
The boy frowned slightly. While he didn't care for the harem undertones of A Certain Magical Ixxex, he was a die-hard fan of its spin-off, Rxxlgun. As a big fan, he knew every character in that world by heart.
"I remember this one," Yuyi noted. "When it arrived at the dorm, my roommate started screaming "This isn't my Biri-Biri!" and demanded a refund. I don't get it,she looks pretty cute to me."
It's not weird at all, the boy thought. This figure didn't match any character from the original work. While the Misaka sisters had long hair in some early art, her facial expression was far closer to Misaka Mikoto herself. Despite the top-tier craftsmanship, otaku buy figures for the character connection. An unknown or OC would never be popular.
Unless it was an official printing error,then the value would skyrocket. But after a careful check, he found no official manufacturer labels. So it is what it is.
Regardless, he found himself strangely drawn to the figure.
"Fine. I'll take this one."
Yuyi looked incredulous. "You sure? My roommate was dead certain this was the one thing that'd never sell."
"Everyone has different tastes. I have a long hair fetish, so I can accept a long haired Misaka."
"I will never understand you geeks."
"I'm barely an amateur myself."
Money was exchanged, the goods were handed over. As the boy turned to leave, Yuyi called out one last time.
"By the way, what's your name? Let's trade contact info. Consider we're friends from now."
The boy hesitated. He wasn't big on making friends, but this guy had a decent personality and didn't judge otaku culture.
"My name is Guan Meng. Nice to meet you."
....
"Alright. Time to grab some dinner and prep for tomorrow..."
Carrying his new figure, Meng wandered the unfamiliar streets, eyes scanning for a restaurant with an empty seat. That was when he saw it: a little boy chasing a rolling ball right into the middle of the road.
Whoa, whoa! Kid, do you have any idea how hard you're trying for a Death Flag right now?
Sure enough, a truck was barreling toward the boy without slowing down.
Meng wasn't a shotacon, but he wasn't cold-blooded enough to watch a kid die. Besides, he knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy the rest of the trips if he just stood by.
As people screamed, Meng vaulted over the guardrail and lunged forward, scooping the boy into his arms. Thanks to his habitual exercise and quick reflexes, they narrowly avoided the collision.
"You okay?!" Meng asked urgently.
The little boy looked dazed, or perhaps he just didn't realize how close he'd come to becoming a pancake. He tilted his head and pointed at the road. "Mister, you dropped your thing."
Meng whipped his head around. His newly bought figure was sitting right in the center of the lane where the boy had just been. As if taking the child's place in destiny, a sports car was screaming toward the figurine at high speed.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" With a tragic scream, Meng charged back onto the road without a second thought.
Just as the crowd thought he was suicidal, Meng did something so impressive that left them speechless.
Grabbing the bag containing the figure, he faced the sports car head-on. Before the driver could even blink, Meng stepped onto the front of the car, seemingly ignoring physic. He stood steadily on the hood of the moving vehicle, ignoring the driver's jawed dropping expression as he carefully inspected the figure for damage. He let out a sigh of relief.
Thank god! Just a little dust. No damage.
He glanced at the driver, who was so in shock that it was a miracle he was still holding the steering wheel.
Can't count on him to stop for me I guess.., Meng thought. Resigned, he prepared to vault toward the sidewalk. He even considered doing a dramatic side flip in mid air to stun the crowd... but the moment his feet hit the ground, he felt a sudden, sickening slide.
He didn't have time to smile.
Who the hell is the throwing that banana peels in the street?!!!!
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In that final moment before the end, time seemed to slow to a snail. Memories of his past flooded his mind like a tide.
I didn't expect to see the life flashing before eyes moments at such a young age, Meng thought with a bitter smile.
I should have just died in the first car crash. If I were lucky, maybe I would have gotten a Truck-kun isekai out of it!
The moment that thought surfaced, he realized he had read way too many web novels.
— Young man, why do you wish to transmigrate? —
A flat, emotionless voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
Have I finally lost my mind? Whatever, I'm dying anyway.
"I want to live, obviously. Ending my life like this... I just can't accept it."
— If you were to transmigrate, what would you want to do? —
What would I do? Is that even a question?
A split second before his skull was slated to meet the sharp rock, Meng gave his answer without a hint of hesitation.
"I've been single my whole life. If I get isekaied, I want a beautiful romance. At the very least... even a single date would do."
Nobody noticed the figurine in Meng's hand beginning to emit a faint, ethereal glow.
To the disbelief of the onlookers, just as the boy was about to hit the ground, a pitch-black rift silently swallowed him whole. He vanished without a trace.
Guan Meng, citizen of the Celestial Empire, was "Spirited Away" in Tokyo, Japan.