[blade_rose] : gg
blade_rose has left the game
The moment the game ended and the 'GG' was declared.
I sat there, internally tensing up as I waited for the inevitable sound of a 'shotgun'—the violent smashing of a keyboard—and a string of curses to come flying from two seats over.
"...Whoa!"
But my prediction was completely off. Instead of an angry keyboard smash, a sound of pure admiration erupted from the seat next to mine.
As I sat there bewildered, the Gokudo Flower suddenly stood up from her seat, tapped the empty chair right next to her, and gestured for me to come over.
'What's this? Is this a "Real-life PvP" request? Since I beat her with a keyboard, she wants to settle it with fists?'
I cautiously approached and sat down next to her. As soon as I did, her eyes sparkled as she nudged my shoulder.
"Hey! How did you know the timing of my attack just now?! That Hallucination Recall—that's my secret build I spent all night researching on my own! You're the first person to counter it so perfectly!"
"...Huh?"
Her voice was far too cheerful for a corrupt Yakuza boss. In fact, she sounded more like a typical, overly enthusiastic StarCraft newbie—star-ini, as we called them—than I ever could have imagined.
In that instant, the heart of the hardcore veteran that had been slumbering deep within my chest began to throb fiercely.
To think she came up with a high-end build that wouldn't even be popular for another few years all by herself in 2005? As a veteran gamer, I couldn't possibly give a half-hearted answer to such an incredible newbie's question about growth.
"Ah, that? I sent a scan over to your main base right before I moved out."
I pointed at the monitor and began giving her dead serious feedback.
"At the edge of the screen where you built your structures, I could see the Arbiter and High Templar overlapping ever so slightly. When you're doing that, it's better to intentionally space out your Gateways, Stargates, or Templar Archives farther apart.
That way, even if a Terran uses a scan, they can't see your entire core tech tree at once."
"Oh~! That's awesome! That's a great idea!"
The Gokudo Flower slapped her knee in admiration.
Completely forgetting the fact that the person sitting next to me was the Yakuza boss who had unified the Kansai region—the very person I was supposed to grab by the collar and arrest—we sat side-by-side in front of the monitor for a long time, letting the conversation bloom over StarCraft sim-city and build orders.
"Man, you're really fun. I've never met anyone I could talk shop with like this. Give me your number. Let's add each other on Battle.net, too."
"Ah, sure. It's 080-XXXX-XXXX. My ID is the one from earlier."
It happened the moment she held out her blue flip phone and we naturally exchanged and saved each other's numbers.
"...."
"...."
With the medium of StarCraft gone, a suffocating silence suddenly descended upon the dark corner of the net cafe.
Only the blue light of the monitors illuminated our faces.
The Gokudo Flower was the first to break the silence. She slowly turned her gaze from the monitor toward me.
"You're from Tokyo Jujutsu High, aren't you? Came all the way down here to catch me."
"...Yeah. That's right."
I didn't deny it and nodded. She let out a small, mocking chuckle.
"Then why didn't you just jump me as soon as you saw me? Why were you sitting next to me playing StarCraft?"
"I don't know. When I saw a pitiful newbie playing 1v1 against the computer, I couldn't just walk past as a fellow gamer, could I?"
"Hahaha, what kind of reason is that?"
She laughed clearly. However, there was a strange bitterness trailing at the end of that laugh.
"But why aren't we fighting even now? You came here to subjugate me on orders from the old fogies in the higher-ups."
"Beats me. I was ready for it just a moment ago... but it feels kind of wrong to fight someone who's this serious about StarCraft until we both bleed."
"I feel the same. You're a weird, interesting guy."
The Gokudo Flower lowered her head, clasping both hands over her knees. Her bobbed hair, which had turned white, looked bleached in the monitor's light.
"Are you sure you're allowed to do this? You'll be disciplined if you disobey orders."
"I don't care. I was never exactly the 'model student' type anyway."
I leaned deep into the back of my chair and asked her with total sincerity.
"Besides, I just became certain of something. Someone who's this purely passionate about a single game couldn't possibly be evil to the bone. I've decided I want to have a proper conversation before we start using our fists."
I quietly looked at her snow-white hair and the menacing tattoos covering her shoulders.
"Why did you stop going to Kyoto High and vanish? And why did you, a normal sorcerer, suddenly gather all the Yakuza in Kansai to become a boss known as the Gokudo Flower... Could you tell me why?"
In that dark corner of the net cafe.
Relying only on the glow of the monitor, the Gokudo Flower let out a deep, resigned sigh and finally spoke.
"Sigh.... I come from a family of ordinary sorcerers. Well, we aren't a prestigious Great Family or anything, but they were quite strict and old-fashioned.
From when I was a kid and couldn't even manifest a technique properly, my parents obsessed over making me awaken my Cursed Energy, forcing nothing but grueling traditional training on me."
She fidgeted with the mouse on the desk as she continued bitterly.
"Then, the moment my Cursed Technique was decided, I was treated like a complete outcast. They said my technique wasn't in a 'traditional' form or whatever."
"Ah, I'm sorry, I took a peek at your student file before I came. 'Cursed Energy Exchange through Tools,' was it?"
She nodded at my question.
"Yeah, that. It would've been fine if the tools used for the exchange were dusty old traditional things like talismans, straw dolls, or nails. Unfortunately, my tool was this."
She pulled a folder-style cell phone from her pocket and tapped it against the desk.
"The ability to transmit and exchange Cursed Energy with others through a communication network. I can't tell you how much shit I took from the elders just because I used this piece of modern technology."
Her voice grew a bit thick.
"Radio communication via base stations, regardless of distance. How efficient and perfect is that? But the higher-up fossils treated me like a heretic.
Even after I got into Kyoto Jujutsu High, handled requests well, and produced results, they'd tear me down at every turn, saying my technique was vulgar or that it lacked the dignity of a sorcerer."
"...So that's why you snapped."
"Yeah. So I just ran away. I hated everything. I just went around beating up any delinquents or thugs I saw to vent my frustration.
By the time I snapped out of it, I had somehow become the boss of the Kansai Yakuza."
She let out a hollow laugh.
"Funny, right? But once I actually stood at the top of a ten-thousand-man criminal organization, everything I'd done snowballed until I was terrified and couldn't handle it anymore.
I realized violence wasn't the answer, so just to survive, I tried to control public opinion through this net cafe business and create a shield by colluding with politicians... that's how I ended up in this state."
Listening to her plain yet pitiful story, I felt pity rather than hostility toward this 'corrupt' curse user.
This girl is just a delinquent youth who got hurt and went astray because of the elders' gatekeeping.
Furthermore, the technique she offhandedly mentioned—exchanging Cursed Energy through a communication network.
A sharp chill of excitement ran down my spine, fueled by my memories of the future.
'Right now it's 2005 and the era of feature phones, but what happens later when the iPhone comes out and the smartphone era begins? If 4G and 5G technology develop and high-speed data networks cover the whole world... under the right conditions, this is an absurdly broken potential where she could wirelessly beam or absorb Cursed Energy from Tokyo to Kyoto using Wi-Fi or base stations as a medium!!'
The fact that the Jujutsu higher-ups discarded such insane talent just because it wasn't 'traditional' proved that those bastards were truly blind.
"Hey. It's not too late. Stop this nonsense and turn yourself in to me."
I began to persuade her with total sincerity.
"The disciplinary issues regarding you beating up Yakuza? My classmates and I will find a way to smooth that over. Our school, Tokyo High, is full of rebels who don't listen to the higher-ups anyway. If we play it right, I'm sure we can bring you over to our side."
'Our homeroom teacher, Yaga, hates the higher-ups, and that lunatic Satoru Gojo literally wants to kill all the old geezers anyway.
If I can just create the right justification, we can use this girl as an incredible asset for our side!'
"Pfft!"
She snorted at my serious persuasion and waved her hand dismissively.
"No, forget it. There's no need for pity. I'm sick of the Jujutsu world and the underworld now."
"No, no. I'm not saying this out of lighthearted pity. You really have enormous potential."
As I continued to persistently hold out my hand, she tilted her head with interest.
"Fine, fine. You're a really weird guy. We've been talking for so long, and I just realized I don't even know your name. Instead of our IDs, let's introduce ourselves for real. What's your name?"
"Oh, right."
Thinking that her guard had finally dropped completely, I revealed my affiliation with a very relaxed and friendly smile.
"I'm a first-year at Tokyo Jujutsu High, Zenin—"
"...Eh?"
'Zenin.'
The moment those two syllables left my mouth.
The goodwill and friendliness that had resided in her eyes instantly transformed into horrific contempt and murderous intent.
CRACK—!!
She yanked the keyboard out of the USB port, wound up a full-strength backswing, and slammed the mechanical keyboard into my face.
CRUNCH—!!!
"Gah—?!"
With the dull impact of the space bar and enter key embedding themselves into my face, my body lurched backward.
As keycaps showered the floor like rain, the Gokudo Flower's eyes rolled back and she screamed, the veins in her neck bulging.
"HA!! Zenin?! You're one of those Zenin bastards?! You dare try to trick me?! Help me? You'll help me?! You damn filthy rat!!!"
"No, wait, holy shit! I'm a disowned black sheep—!!!"
My desperate cry was miserably drowned out by her second 'keyboard shotgun smash' that shook the entire PC cafe. So much for the heartwarming bond between gamers.