"So, uh... hi. I wanted to know if..."
The woman was wiping the dirt off her clothes, appearing not to even notice my presence. I stepped toward her, reaching out to touch her shoulder to get her attention, but it was a mistake. With a swift swivel of her hips and a blur of her hands, she flipped me. I slammed into the ground; the impact was dry, and the pain in my back was agonizing.
"Ow... you didn't have to do that..." I grumbled, squirming.
"Sorry. I didn't realize you were just a mere civilian," she replied with a cutting coldness.
She began to walk away toward the street. I scrambled up, ignoring the pain, and went after her.
"Hey, wait! I need to talk to you!" She didn't stop walking. "Please, I need help! My friend is in trouble. I'll do whatever you want!"
She stopped. She turned slowly, staring at me with a raised eyebrow. "Whatever I want?" "Yes!" I replied, desperate.
She fell silent for a few seconds, as if weighing a complex proposal. "Fine. I'll want... hmm..." "What?!" I asked, anxious.
"For you to take your finger and shove it up your..." she dropped a word I can't even repeat. "Can't you see I'm not in need of favors?"
And she started walking again. Dammit, I thought. The woman was cranky and stubborn. How was I supposed to convince her to help me?
While I was reeling from the rejection, the bar door swung open and Sid walked out, heading my way. "So?" "Yeah... the whole talking to her thing didn't really work out."
"Talk to who? Oh, the woman? Don't worry, Arata. She's not as cool as I am anyway!" Sid joked, locking me in a friendly headlock and noogying my hair.
We laughed together for a moment—a necessary truce. "Alright, Arata. Let's get you home. I need to drop you off; it's getting late." "Yeah, you're right."
A few minutes later, we stopped in front of a simple building. "Thanks for bringing me, Sid." "No problem. See ya tomorrow."
I entered using the key my uncle had given me. The place was tidy and simple: wooden floors, basic furniture, and... a television. That was weird. I didn't expect to find working electronics or internet in this world.
I went straight to the device, ignoring the second floor for now. I pressed the remote, and to my surprise, the screen flickered to life.
"...BTZZZ... Urgent news! A bank robbery is underway in downtown Classes City," a reporter said on the screen. "Police units are surrounding the entrance, waiting for the criminals to emerge. The situation is tense; the robbers are Encoder users and are on the offensive, waiting for the right moment to use their Classes."
"Whoa..." I muttered, impressed.
There was internet, TV channels, and an infrastructure that looked a lot like my world. Those images of Classes City looked like the Japan I knew. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all... but I couldn't get distracted. I had to focus on my goals and find a way back home. I'd ask my uncle about it tomorrow.
I climbed the stairs and found a room with a single bed. It was probably where my uncle slept; I felt a pang of guilt making him use the couch, but exhaustion won out.
As I lay down, I relaxed every muscle in my body. I realized the only times I'd actually "rested" since I got here were when I was unconscious or near death. That bed was paradise. I sat up for a moment, letting my thoughts flow.
It was all so nostalgic. It had been months since I'd seen a TV or smelled a clean house. I realized how much I hadn't valued my old life... I should have hugged my mom more often, spent more time with my friends. But it's okay. I won't blame myself now; that's not what I need.
I lay back down, already feeling the weight of sleep. A melody I loved began to play in my mind, bringing a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time:
"Good, feeling good... Ay, feeling good, like I should... Went and took a walk around the neighborhood... Feeling blessed, never stressed... Got that sunshine on my Sunday..."
I passed out in seconds, the rhythm of the song still echoing in my chest.
The glow of the artificial lights outside mimicked the sun, filtering through the window and waking me up. The night before had been so refreshing that I slept like a baby. I got up and began preparing for the day. I took a shower—the first in weeks, or maybe months, I couldn't even tell anymore—and savored every second of that domestic routine I had missed so much.
Just as I was about to open the front door to head out, someone pushed it from the outside first. I slammed face-first into the wood; the impact was so hard I felt a lump grow instantly, a slight dizziness hitting me.
"Uncle?" I groaned, massaging my forehead. "Where did you even sleep, anyway?"
"Forgive me, Arata, we don't have time for small talk!" My uncle seemed electric, his eyes restless. "We need to go now. Good to see you're already ready!"
He grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the street. He pointed toward a colossal entrance on the other side of the city, where a dark tunnel displayed a worn yellow sign: "WEST A". That was my mission, but my uncle's nervousness left me intrigued.
"Arata, follow that path. Your squad is already there waiting for you. I have urgent business on the other side of the city now. Clear out the Corrupted and we'll meet up later!"
And without further explanation, he took off running, leaving me behind. Right, I thought. I remembered the night before and decided it would be faster to go across the rooftops.
As I leaped between buildings, something began to vibrate in my pants, right against my leg. I fumbled through my pocket and pulled out a walkie-talkie I didn't even know was there.
"Arata! Arata! If you're listening, answer!" The voice came through static, but it was recognizable. "Almost everyone showed up at the meeting point except you and Chad. Please, give us a sign of life! We found the Architects group and we're preparing to invade the main buildings of Sectors A, B, and C. It's going to take a few months of planning, so find us fast. Look for us at the old child-trafficking highway!"
I tried to reply, but the talk button was broken; the device was only good for listening. One question hammered in my head: "Why the hell did they choose a child-trafficking highway as a base?"
I ignored the thought for now and focused on the objective. Within minutes, I reached the entrance to the West A sector. Descending a metal ladder, I spotted four figures standing there. Two women and two men. I would be the fifth element, breaking the group's gender balance.
"Finally, you showed up," growled the most muscular man of the group. He radiated an aura of "all brawn, no brains." "I know you're the boss's relative, but don't think we're going to treat you like a 'princess,' you little asphalt brat."
"Ignore him. Glad you made it, we were waiting," said a shorter woman, wearing prescription glasses that glinted in the tunnel's darkness.
"Please... it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is... Cum-Man... or, or you can call me Human Spurt..." The third was a thin, trembling young man. The names were bizarre, and he looked like he wanted to die of shame just saying them.
"Forget what they say. They're a bunch of airheads," interrupted the fourth member. She wore black headphones that contrasted with her vibrant blue hair.
The muscular guy grabbed the thin boy by the neck, laughing loudly. "Like the nicknames I gave him? HAHAHA! I picked them myself. Know why? Because when he fights, he 'spurts' everywhere! HAHAHA!"
The woman with glasses sighed, ignoring the leader's stupidity. "Let's just get on with it. We should introduce ourselves and state our Classes and powers!"
The brute stepped forward, pounding his chest. "I'm the leader here. I decide if you're going to get screwed in there or if I'm going to finish you off myself. My Class is Encoder: I can inject physical properties into myself or objects."
The short girl continued: "You can call me Shorty; it's what they know me by. My power is Recreation. I can decompose matter and recreate it, but it requires heavy concentration. In frantic combat, I might end up useless, so I need cover."
The one with blue hair didn't even change her expression as she spoke: "They call me DJ. My Class is Architect. I can manipulate the terrain around me. It's useful for shutting up idiots like this muscle-head here."
Last, the thin boy took a deep breath, trying to stop shaking: "I... I'm the Support. My parents wanted me to help people... my power is a chemical mutation. I transform my sweat into whole milk instantly. I accelerate my cellular metabolism and alter the structure of my secretions, filtering impurities and adding nutrients. The cost is that my body becomes fragile, and I feel a devastating hunger after using it."
An organic production Class? That was new to me. Despite the ridiculous name they gave him, he seemed like the "nicest" person there.
The muscular man turned toward the darkness of the hole, cracking his knuckles. "Now that the introductions are over, let's go in and finish off those black, cubic little shits. After that, it's going to be fun until I get tired! HAHAHA!"
Before I even had a chance to say my name, they started following the moronic leader, who simply forgot I was there. I sighed and went along; they were a group of idiots, but they seemed like people I could tolerate until I reunited with my old companions.
As we walked, the image of Ren popped into my mind. I felt a pang in my chest; maybe I really was interested in her. She was beautiful, I couldn't deny that, and the longing for her presence was stronger than I expected.
We entered the tunnel with our guard down. Little did we know that what awaited us inside would change everything...