“Next stop, Tokyo.”
The voice from the broadcast echoed faintly through the comfortable and tranquil train car, announcing the impending arrival.
The spacious business-class seat was perfect for enjoying the complimentary aromatic coffee and fresh bread.
Unfortunately, Chiaki had no interest in this lifestyle, once exclusive to the bourgeoisie.
He simply adjusted his headphones, listening to the soft music as he used the time to read Cognitive Science.
As a seasoned transmigrator, he deeply understood the importance of learning.
In his previous life, he was a student from the most hyper-competitive nation within the pressure cooker of East Asia.
After watching a band anime, he was struck by a sudden whim and spent his entire accumulated living allowance on bass lessons.
Following several years of self-study, he set off for Japan.
His obsessive dedication to the bass caused him to fail six of his university courses, but he couldn’t care less.
He believed that true talent would always shine through.
As a new-era bassist, he was certain he would form his own band, perform his proudest compositions at the Budokan, and then go blow up the Tokyo Tower.
Of course, that was just the fantasy of a street-performing bassist who couldn’t make ends meet, couldn’t even afford a cheap bento box, and nearly starved to death on the streets.
His journey in Japan was a colossal failure.
He burned through all his savings, the band he formed was plagued with problems and eventually disbanded惨遭解散, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t salvage it.
In the end, he was forced to sell his bass for a low price, buy a plane ticket, and begin the journey home.
Damn it, Japan was the absolute worst!
The flight home was anything but smooth.
He had no idea what the Japanese airline was thinking, but they had painted the plane he was supposed to take in the classic purple-and-gold of a certain basketball legend’s team—the infamous “iced black tea” color scheme, as the meme went.
They even went so far as to slap his classic numbers, 8 and 24, on the side.
It felt incredibly ominous, but his savings were insufficient to cancel and rebook.
He had no choice but to board the plane, his heart pounding with anxiety.
At some point, some moron started playing “See You Again” over the speakers.
Unsurprisingly, the plane crashed, and with a final, fateful “man,” he opened his eyes to his second playthrough.
—o—
In his second playthrough, he understood that playing in a band was a dead end; education was the only path to a future.
He threw himself into his studies.
Even when family matters forced him to temporarily leave Tokyo and move to the town of Yasoinaba, he never gave up on learning.
After becoming a wielder of supernatural abilities, solving the mystery of the persistent fog over Inaba City, and cracking the serial murder case, he was finally able to return to Tokyo to continue his studies.
According to the standard slice-of-life anime progression, his next step should be to study hard in high school, get into the University of Tokyo, enter the world of politics, become the new Prime Minister, and then—enact the Band Breakup Tax!
Anyone who selfishly and unilaterally disbanded a band without proper notice and the consent of all members would be fined and charged an additional Band Breakup Tax of at least one hundred thousand yen!
He yearned for this god-awful Japanese society to undergo a revolution.
Buzz—!
The vibration of a completed download came from his pocket.
Chiaki took out his phone and noticed an unknown app had appeared.
He pressed and held its icon, dragged it to the trash bin, and deleted it.
A few minutes later, the phone vibrated again.
It was the same app.
Huh?
Are spam apps this aggressive nowadays?
Delete again!
After repeating this process more than ten times and feeling his mobile data rapidly depleting, Chiaki gave up.
He might as well see what this stupid chat software was all about.
[I Want to Eat Mei-Flavored Noodles]: I’m telling you guys, that super pretty girl I met, Raiden Mei, she talked to me again!
Ah!
She’s stolen my heart!
Perhaps there will be no more sorrow or joy in my life.
[Customer Service Sakiko]: That just sounds like sexual harassment.
[Talulah]: I concur.
Would any normal person change their group name to something so perverted?
[Child of Prophecy]: Even if you like someone that much, to do something like this…
[Yearning to be a Magical Girl]: Is this Mei person a magical girl?
If she’s a magical girl, I guess I can understand, hehe~.
[Underworld’s Rokurokubi]: Seriously, a new member just joined!
I know you all couldn’t care less about seniority, but at least try to watch your image!
So, it was this kind of chat group.
Chiaki calmly changed his group name to [The Steel Warden], planning to observe for a while before pulling a big move.
—o—
Leaving the station, Chiaki navigated the familiar streets to a residence situated on a quiet road in Tokyo’s Ginza district.
He pressed a switch, and the iron gate slid open automatically.
Upon entering the courtyard, the first thing that greeted him was a meticulously trimmed Japanese rock garden.
A path of fine pebbles snaked past a pond, where a few cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, their petals drifting on the wind.
A stone bridge in the center arched over crystal-clear water.
Walking straight across the bridge led to a three-story building.
The first floor housed a dining room, living room, and a large bathhouse.
The second floor contained an auditorium, a gym, and a study.
The third floor was for bedrooms.
Additionally, there was an attic for storing miscellaneous items, though it hadn’t been used in a long time and definitely gave off an unclean and gloomy impression.
The yard was massive; behind the building was a field that could be used for both baseball and soccer.
The house was far too spacious and empty for just one person.
From any angle, it severely lacked a sense of being lived in.
“I kind of miss Yasoinaba.”
“Oh, lucky me.
There’s still milk in the fridge.”
“Let’s see…
expires today?
A one-year shelf life is really too short.”
He decided to ask his new group members if milk that expired today was still drinkable.
At that moment, the group members happened to be active.
[Underworld’s Rokurokubi]: Ugh, the Underworld is short on supplies again.
We’ll have to find a way to get some from the Overworld.
Talulah, can you spare anything?
[Talulah]: I’m afraid not.
The winters in Ursus are exceptionally cold, and we don’t even have enough warm clothing.
The Geode you sent over before, Seele, is almost depleted, to say nothing of food and other resources.
[Child of Prophecy]: It’s almost winter here as well.
I’ve gathered a lot of berries, though.
If you need some, I can send you a portion of my collection.
[Customer Service Sakiko]: The boss is withholding our wages again.
It’s so annoying.
We haven’t been paid in two months.
Is this a misery contest?
Because I’d definitely win!
[The Steel Warden]: Can I ask something?
I bought some milk a year ago, kept it in the fridge, and the expiration date is today.
Is it still safe to drink?
I think my milk might be expired.
[Talulah]: ….
[Underworld’s Rokurokubi]: ….
[Talulah]: If the expiration date is today, it should still be drinkable.
So it’s still good?
All right then.
Gulp.
Gulp.
Gulp.
The taste was a little strange.
His stomach started to hurt.
A trip to the toilet was probably in order.
He spent half an hour in the bathroom.
Courage has increased slightly???.
Just then, a situation erupted in the nameless chat group.
[Talulah]: Is anyone there?!
Please, help me!
Alina…
she’s dying!
@everyone
[Customer Service Sakiko]: Dying?!
What happened?
[Talulah]: I don’t know!
But anyone, please, I’m begging you, help me!
I’ll do anything!
Anything?
Chiaki thought.
Then you can drink expired milk and spend half an hour on the toilet!
[The Steel Warden]: Hold on, child!
I’m on my way to save you!