The school bell rang; for most students, this was the signal for club activities or going home.
But for Ai, it was the start of overtime.
He packed his schoolbag slowly, ignoring the hesitant, abandoned-puppy look from Yotsuya Miko in the front row.
“See you tomorrow.”
Leaving only those three words, he picked up his bag and walked out of the classroom.
Though he was a bit cold, for the current Miko, those three words were enough to replay in her mind all night, serving as a spiritual pillar to resist the evil spirits of the night…
Shimokitazawa.
Known as the “Holy Land of Subculture,” this place was filled with vintage shops, theaters, and Live Houses.
The air was thick with a free, decadent, yet vibrant atmosphere.
Ai walked through the narrow streets.
With the boost of 74 Charisma points and his “ascetic” cold face, he blended into this unique neighborhood surprisingly well.
Staff from vintage shops and girls carrying instruments would occasionally cast curious glances his way.
“System, navigation.”
[Ding! Target Location: Live House STARRY. 200 meters from the host.]
[Detected that the host is about to enter a key plot node; it is recommended to check your appearance and maintain your persona.]
Ai twitched the corner of his mouth—mentally, of course.
He arrived in front of a building that looked quite aged and followed the stairs down to the first basement level.
Pushing open the heavy soundproof door, a unique scent of tobacco, alcohol, and old carpet hit him.
It was 5:30 PM, not yet time for the evening performances, so there were no customers in the shop.
Behind the bar, a woman with long blonde hair and a mature, sharp aura was wiping a glass.
Ijichi Seika.
The manager of STARRY, and in the original plot, a character who seemed strict but was actually a huge sis-con.
“Sorry, the performance hasn’t started yet… Hm?”
Her gaze lingered on Ai’s face for two seconds.
The words she intended to use to shoo him away got stuck in her throat.
This kid…
looks quite unique.
Not the cookie-cutter idol face, but a flavorful, melancholic handsome guy who looked as if he carried some heavy past.
In this industry where looks matter, this kind of face was a pass.
“Looking for someone.”
Ai walked to the bar, his voice cold.
Because the air conditioning was a bit too cold, the faint pain of his soul tearing made him frown slightly, which instead made his expression look even deeper.
“Who are you looking for?” Ijichi Seika put down the glass, looking at him with interest.
“Goto Hitori.”
Hearing that name, Seika was stunned for a moment, then revealed an extremely complex expression.
It was a mixture of “unbelievable,” “worry,” and “is this kid being scammed?”
“You’re looking for Bocchi? Are you her friend?”
Seika looked Ai up and down.
No matter how she looked at it, this guy had a strong normie aura; although he was a cool-style hottie, he was not the same species as that gloomy Bocchi who would grow mushrooms in a closet.
“Sort of.”
Ai didn’t explain much.
“She should be practicing.”
Seika pointed to a door inside.
“In the studio. But… her state today is a bit strange, you’d better be prepared.”
Before he even reached the door, he heard a sound…
how to describe it?
It was like someone using a chainsaw on an iron plate, interspersed with some soft creature’s strange “boi boi” cries.
Ai pushed the door open.
Inside the studio.
Three girls were in a subtle state of standoff.
One was an energetic drummer with a yellow triangular hair accessory—Ijichi Nijika.
One was a bass guitar player with short blue hair and an expression even more stoic than Ai’s—Yamada Ryo.
And in the middle of these two, on the floor, was a blob of…
pink stuff.
It really was a blob of something.
Goto Hitori was wearing her signature pink tracksuit, her whole body twisted with a flexibility unattainable by humans, hands clutching her head, shivering, and constantly muttering:
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m just industrial waste that only produces noise… I broke the sound… ugh…”
And at her feet was exactly the orange effect pedal Ai had given her—the BOSS DS-1.
At this moment, the knobs on it were twisted into a mess, and the indicator light was flashing wildly.
“Ah, someone’s here.”
Yamada Ryo was the first to notice Ai at the door.
She turned her head expressionlessly, biting the straw in her mouth, and commented blandly, “It’s a hottie. Bocchi, is your creditor here?”
“Eeeek!!!”
The pink creature on the floor let out a sharp shriek and instantly launched itself, trying to hide inside the bass drum of the drum kit.
“Um… who are you?”