Chapitre 3: Chapter 3 - Outside Troubles?
[Suzuki Aiko | Female Human | Age: 19]
Occupation: Virtual Streamer
Str: E | Agi: E
End: D (E) | For: E
Mag: - | Int: E
Cha: F+
Streamer Points: 73
Talents: [Survivor (Veteran)], [Natural Streamer], [Endurance Streamer]
There's something really satisfying about seeing how far I've come in the past month. Getting a direct visual representation of how strong or enduring or agile my exercise has made me is electric.
Would've been nice if this existed for everyone.
Though, I have to say-
The dumbbell—over 50 kilos in weight—screeches as its stem bends between my fists. I put in a little more effort, and the dumbbell snaps in two with a loud twang. A smile lifts my lips as metal fragments shower the floor. "That's pretty damn metal."
A Rank E Str didn't look all that impressive until I accidentally smashed my mouse once. My viewers laughed it off then. "Aiko super woman." Neko-san had eloquently put it. But it isn't. My strength isn't natural, especially for a girl who could barely lift herself from the bed just a month before.
I bought a new, stronger mouse after the stream ended. I bought a few spares just in case.
But there's a reason why I've been so frantic; why I've exercised until I collapsed on my bed after I stream.
I want to go outside.
I want to see the world beyond this room Aiko caged herself in.
Streaming is fun. Chatting with my viewers is fun. But I've never been one to hole up. Being outside, eating good food, taking walks, seeing the random fortunes and misfortunes of the day—that was my life. That is who I was.
But I know nothing about this world. The internet can only give me so much—and most of it is mired in misinformation and general secrecy. Aiko's extended family is still out there too, and I have no idea what they'd do to me.
Which is why,
[Talent: Survivor (Veteran)]
[Reduces Streamer's consumption of nutrients by 40% without decreasing beneficial effects. Reduces Streamer's need for sleep by 30%. Increases growth of Str, Agi, and End by 200% until Rank E. Increases Natural Healing by 20%. This is needed for higher levels of the Survivor Talent.]
Maybe it's a little excessive to spend over 500 Stream Points to upgrade Survivor all the way up to Veteran, but I don't regret it. The general boosts it gives me is something I can't live without.
I take a breath. I've prepared everything I need for the excursion—a small wallet, an umbrella in case it rains, and even some money I converted from my Stream Points. I'm wearing a bland shirt and a pair of shorts; anything to help me blend into the crowd. And if anything happens, I have pepper spray in my pockets.
I'm standing in front of the door. I've been standing here for minutes now, strangely panicked for a reason I can't describe. It's like my brain is ready, but my body is reluctant to move.
I'm not sure what that means. I know little about spirits and possessions and whatever, but-
"This is my life now." I smile. "I won't let you rot in here. I'll drag you out with me, Aiko-san."
The handle is twisted. The door opens.
I come out onto a set of stairs.
…It's almost anticlimactic, really.
I lock the door behind me, and I take another breath as I make my way down the apartment complex. The clean floors are a surprise—apartments are never this clean, but this is Japan, I guess.
And eventually, I make it out.
I step out onto an ordinary street. Apartment condos stretch along the street, with the occasional in-the-wall restaurant and the one convenience store. A dozen vending machines stand by the side, buttons below the drinks offered to prospective customers.
It's new. But not. Foreign. And familiar. I place a hand over my chest. I can feel my heart thumping against my ribs.
I breathe. Turn left. And begin to walk to some vague destination I have in my head.
And it's…nice. I wish I had something more to say, but I don't. It's just a street, ain't it? With apartments and family restaurants and convenience stores. Occupied by vending machines and street lamps and the occasional bikes parked away from the center of the street.
I'm not sure how long I spent just walking, but I don't keep count.
But the sun begins to set soon enough. The pastel blues are washed away by warm orange, and eventually drowned out by black, lit by the sparks of the stars. I debate on what to do, but I catch the mouth-watering smell of warm ramen coming from a nearby family restaurant, and like a moth to a flame I'm drawn in.
It was a random choice, but it would be the start to something that would change the world.
I walk, and I'm greeted by the cheerful welcome of the owner. He's an old man with gray hair and a scowl pulling his lips. He looks somewhat intimidating, but it only reminds me of the prickly manager I worked for in my past life.
Ha, that damn bastard.
I hope he's doing well.
I sit by the counter, and the man goes, "Order?"
I glance at the menu taped onto the counter, and I smile. "Miso." He nods, and he heads into the kitchen to begin cooking. The restaurant falls silent, with only the muffled crackles of a distant radio to break through the silence.
The man comes out some time later, with a steaming bowl of ramen atop the tray he's carrying. "One order of Miso." He places it in front of me, and I nod and smile as if I'm not about to dive into the bowl like a ravenous dog.
He heads back to the kitchen, and I begin eating.
And it's just sooo good. That bursting, umami flavor, condensed into the thick miso. The ramen is perfectly chewy and bouncy. There are half-boiled eggs, seaweed, beansprouts, fish cakes, and everything else that compliments the ramen.
I nearly tear up from the flavor. Because as nice as the bentos I usually eat are, it doesn't change that they are just bentos. Perfectly healthy, perfectly presented, and rather bland.
This ramen is far from the healthiest thing she's eaten, but I can't find it in myself to care.
But just as I finished drinking the last drop of the miso in the bowl, I hear the door smash open, and I turn to see a man stagger into the restaurant. His clothes are disheveled, and he looks somewhat drunk.
"Oi, owner!" He grins wide. "Bring me another bowl of that good stuff!"
The owner comes out of the kitchen, and his scowl grows darker. "Bastard." He scoffs. "I told you to never come back."
The man laughs. "Come on! Not like I did anything bad!" He then turns to me, and I narrow my eyes at the way his eyes roam over me. "Right, lil' lady?" I don't reply, and he growls. "Oi, oi, you star-struck by me, lil' lady?"
Suzuki Aiko is not a confrontational person. She is timid, withdrawn even. When her extended family descended on her like hawks, she did little to stop them from stealing what her parents left behind for her.
I am not Aiko. I can never be.
"You seem drunk sir," I smile, hoping my sarcasm doesn't leak through. "Do you need any medicine?"
And the man explodes. "What you say, bitch!?" He runs up to me, maybe to grab me, maybe to do something worse. I see the owner about to run to help me, his knuckles white as he holds onto a tray.
I have no intention on letting him get any closer.
I twist and kick the chair I was sitting on towards his face. The drunk man shouts in surprise as the chair smacks onto his forehead. I crouch low, and with breath, my left leg moves.
And my shoe smashes into the man's crotch.
The man drops onto the floor, tears in his eyes as he cradles his family jewels. "What the fuck was that for, you-" His words are cut off as he stares into my eyes. "W-What's that look for-"
"Shut up." I raise my leg. My foot hovers just above his crotch. "The owner says you're not welcome here. Get out," I narrow my eyes, and a smile stretches across my cheeks. He shivers. "Before I force you to."
The man cries like a little girl. And then runs out. It takes all of my will not to laugh.
I cough instead. "Sorry, owner." I pick up the chair I kicked and bow. "Sorry for the trouble."
He looks at me strangely, and then sighs. "No trouble, kid." He smiles. "And you don't need to pay either. As thanks for keeping that bastard out."
I laugh as I pull my hand away from my pocket. I can tell he won't accept my money even if I force it onto him. "I'll come back soon." I wink instead. "And I'll make sure to pay next time."
He scoffs. "Yeah, yeah." He waves me off. "Stay safe out there, kid."
I wave back as I head out, and just in time to hear someone cry out in pain. It takes me a moment to realize it sounds awfully similar to the drunk man I just kicked out, and morbid fascination drives me as I follow the voice.
And I soon come to find the drunk man kneeling on the street, tears falling from his eyes as he presses his forehead into the ground.
But I'm more taken by the woman standing before him. With wild black hair that looks almost blue under the moonlight, and ferocious eyes that shine like sapphires. Dressed in loosely tied pants, a coat worn over her shoulder, and nothing but bandages wrapped over her chest.
"Oi, oi, oi." The woman's foot smashed into the back of the man's head. She smiles as he whimpers in pain. "I don't remember allowing you to go back here, Masuda-san. Or was I not strict enough, hm?"
"I-I-I'm sorry, Kson-sama!"
Kson, huh? Is that her name, or just a title? I don't really know, but it fits her.
But that aside,
"You'll crack his skull at that rate." I find myself saying, a smile on my lips as the man turns to me and shakes like a leaf. "He tried to assault me, but I don't think he deserves to get his head splattered in."
The woman looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Ha! What're you saying-" Her jaw falls open. "Aiko-chan!?"
I stare. "Do you know me?"
Kson grins. "Of course! I love watching you play Osu!"
I blink, and then smile. "Oh, a viewer?" I laugh. "I didn't think I'd meet one out here." I smile. "It's nice to meet you, Kson-san."
Kson smiles. "Hey, hey, it's my honor to see you!" Her smile then falls. "But what did you say about this guy?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, he went into the restaurant I was eating in and picked a fight. I think he tried to assault me or something." I shrug. "Not that he got anywhere close. I kicked his jewels before he could, and the owner would've helped me if I didn't-"
I'm cut off when Kson slams her foot down onto the man's skull. The streets crack, and the man coughs out blood as he goes limp.
And…that's not normal. Kson just cracked the street with her foot. If she isn't a superhuman, I don't know who is. But what does that mean? Is being supernaturally strong just normal here? Could Magic be a real thing here too? I mean, I have the Mag stat and all.
I shake my head. "Uh, is it okay for you to break the street like that?" I say instead.
Kson grins. "My men will fix it. Masuda-san will too." She grinds her foot into the man's skull. "You will, right?"
The man groans. "Y…Yes…Kson-sama…"
I blink. The guy's not dead? I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Well, I'm glad things will be fine."
Kson hums, and then smiles. "Say, why don't I treat you to an izakaya I like going to?" She gives the man's head a playful kick. "Y'know, to pay for this guy being a nuisance and all. He's a bitch, but he's still mine."
I debate over it for a moment. I have a few hours before I need to stream. And it has been a while since I last drank beer and whatnot.
So I smile. "I'd love that."
Kson grins in return.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone