Tokyo: I can enlighten all obsessions

Monday morning.

Bright sunlight streamed through the UV-protected glass, falling precisely on the classroom of Class 2-B at the private Shujin High School.

The air was filled with the dry smell of chalk dust and the hormonal scent of dozens of teenage boys and girls.

On the podium, the math teacher, whose hairline was receding precariously, was frantically writing nonsensical function formulas on the blackboard. The "thud" of the chalk breaking mixed with his bland lecturing voice, creating a perfect lullaby.

Kamiki Tetsu sat in the last row of the classroom, by the window.

He cradled his heavy head in one hand, two physiological tears welling in the corners of his eyes, and opened his mouth wide, letting out a long yawn without any attempt to hide it.

"Ha~"

His tiredness was for a reason.

Besides the chronic fatigue accumulated from long-term work, it was mostly because I was forced to accept an overload of information last night in that basement.

Although the bald section chief looked like a good-for-nothing who only knew how to complain about being poor, his serious expression when talking about the true nature of the "enemy" is still memorable to this day.

"Listen carefully, Mr. Shenmu. The so-called vengeful spirits are not the traditional ghosts that crawl out of wells dressed in white with disheveled hair."

"That was negative emotion that was too concentrated and could not be dissipated. After breaking through the critical point, it finally took physical form."

As Tetsu Kamiki twirled the mechanical pencil in his hand, the image of the woman who attacked him in the convenience store that night involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

That monster who broke his neck for a mere five yen.

"Looking back now, that thing really didn't seem like an illusory existence made up of a soul."

Kamiki Tetsu looked out the window at the gray sky, his eyes slightly cold.

The woman didn't kill out of simple "hatred," but rather because of the anxiety and despair of "not being able to find that five yen," which combined with the filth of Tokyo, ultimately turned her into a physical disaster that went mad at the mere mention of five yen.

Simply put, a spiritual obsession is a living, breathing attachment.

"In this world that has been completely crushed by high pressure, everyone struggling on the verge of collapse is a walking time bomb."

The section chief's trembling warning still seemed to echo in my ears.

"Whether it's the resentment of the living, the despair of overwork, or the regret of the dead... when the spirit can no longer bear that weight, the spiritual obstacles within the body will erupt."

"The vast majority of people will be completely consumed by negative emotions and turn into monsters who only follow their instincts to kill."

"And only a very small number of people..."

Kamiki Tetsu subconsciously reached into the side pocket of his backpack, his fingertips touching the cold, icy utility knife.

"...Able to survive madness, coexist with the curse, and become a patient with monstrous powers."

"A patient...?"

Kamiki Tetsu twitched the corner of his mouth.

In this morbid world, being able to remain rationally insane has become a privilege.

Although he had gained seemingly extraordinary power, he knew very well that his current situation was not much better than when he was working at the convenience store.

Even worse.

The bald section chief gave him an extremely uncomfortable look when he handed him the employment contract last night.

That's the look you give to your own kind.

That's right, the middle-aged man named Tenkaiichi, the humbly kneeling office worker for funding, was also a "patient" struggling on the verge of collapse.

"Kamiki-kun, please don't have any childish thoughts like 'I'm a chosen superhero'."

Tenkai pointed at Kamiki Tetsu, then at his own shiny forehead, his tone full of self-mockery:

"In the eyes of those high-ranking figures, there is no difference between you and me. We are not heroes, but rather—high-risk mental patients with utility."

The official attitude towards people like them is so harsh it's almost laughable.

There were no flowers, no applause, only three ironclad rules of management.

First, because only monsters can kill monsters, the authorities pay them wages and treat them as disposable "biological weapons."

Secondly, because these weapons could go out of control at any time, they must be subject to rigorous "periodic rational review," living under the watchful eyes of countless surveillance cameras every minute of every second.

The third point is also the most disgusting.

"What if one's rationality collapses, or the vetting fails..."

Kamiki Tetsu recalled the section chief's dry voice:

"Then we will no longer be paid employees, but garbage that must be disposed of immediately."

"Trash...?"

Kamiki Tetsu lowered his eyes, looking at his hands, which were slightly rough from years of carrying goods.

In a convenience store, a "part" that can be replaced at any time is "garbage" that can be disposed of at any time.

The world is truly as rotten as ever.

But it doesn't matter.

Whether it's spare parts or trash, as long as Fukuzawa Yukichi is given enough, he's happy to be the most expensive "hazardous waste".

Kamiki Tetsu leaned back onto the table, burying his face in his arms, trying to block out the annoying sunlight.

To be honest, if it were just for his own survival, he wouldn't need to work so hard.

As a stowaway who "transmigrated in his physical body," he didn't feel much belonging to this indifferent world.

At worst, I can spend the night at an internet cafe or eat discarded lunches at a convenience store. Either way, I can survive like a cockroach.

Unfortunately, he carried a heavy "legacy" on his shoulders.

Three years ago, when he was wandering the streets of Tokyo like a lost soul, he was picked up by an old woman who ran a run-down general store.

That meddlesome old woman not only took him in as an undocumented immigrant, but also used her connections to get him the legal identity of "Kamiki Tetsu," effectively pulling him off the police station's deportation list.

"Since you've eaten at my house, you're now part of my family."

That nagging remark, delivered in a thick Showa-era accent, still seems to echo in my ears.

However, like all cheesy, third-rate novels, good people never live long.

Grandma passed away a year ago.

All that was left for Kamiki Tetsu was this healthy body and that old surname—two things.

A debt bill that remains even after a simple funeral.

And, a "sister" who is related to the old woman by blood and now can only depend on him for survival.

"...Tsk."

Just thinking about that middle school kid who always followed behind him calling "Onii-chan" but had an astonishingly large appetite made Toru Kamiki click his tongue in his arms.

The old woman held his hand tightly as she lay dying, her cloudy eyes filled with pleading.

She didn't ask Shenmu Che to burn incense for her; she only asked him to take good care of her only relative in the world.

For that promise, for the sake of his stepsister being able to continue her education, and to prevent the old house filled with memories from being seized by the bank...

He needs to make money.

Forget about being a "high-risk mental patient," as long as you give Fukuzawa Yukichi enough, he'd be willing to brush Godzilla's teeth right now.

Just then, a short vibration came from my pocket.

hum-

Kamiki Tetsu's eyelashes, which had been buried in his arms, trembled slightly.

He remained motionless, slumped over the table, his long, slender fingers deftly slipping into his pocket to pull out a secondhand smartphone with a cracked screen.

In this dull classroom, the only thing that could stir his emotions was the bank's balance change notification.

Kamiki Tetsu skillfully swiped the screen under the table.

However, instead of the heart-pounding banking app, a green social media icon popped up.

LINE.

The sender's profile picture was a lucky cat that seemed outdated for this era.

Note: [Kujou Hina (Landlord)].

He opened the chat window, and several lines of overly excited text instantly popped up on the screen, making it easy to imagine the other person's excited tone.

[Kujou Hina]: Kamiki-kun! Please make sure you have time free after school!

[Kujou Hina]: Emergency! The location is that abandoned park behind your school! I'll go directly there from the girls' school, so please don't stand me up!

[Kujou Hisana]: That bald guy... oh no, the section chief just gave me the official instructions!

[Kujou Hina]: This is my "promotion assessment mission"! As long as I resolve this spiritual obstacle, I can go from "trainee" to "full-time investigator"!

【Kujou Hina】: Only by obtaining a formal position with salary and authority can I repair the shrine and take the first step in restoring the glory of the Kujou family!

[Kujou Hina]: This is my lifelong request! Please! Please help me! (An animated emoticon of a calico cat bowing deeply in defiance)

Kamiki Toru frowned as he watched the cartoon cat on the screen frantically kowtowing.

Performance review for becoming a permanent employee?

Normally, he would pretend not to see such troublesome matters that don't bring direct monetary gain.

But this time is different.

First of all, that "five-yen vengeful spirit" at the convenience store that night was originally supposed to be this stupid woman's target, but she intercepted it halfway and stole the head and the loot.

Secondly, and most importantly—

"What if she fails the assessment and gets fired..."

Kamiki Tetsu's long, slender fingers tapped lightly on the table.

Wouldn't Section Chief Hai's money-saving plan of "free accommodation at the Kujo Family Shrine" be ruined?

In Tokyo, where every inch of land is precious, where can you find the perfect place to live that requires no deposit, no key money, and not even rent?

For the sake of my own precarious wallet and to have a place to stay, I have to do this favor.

"Consider it a deposit for the rent."

Kamiki Toru sighed softly, straightened up, and used one hand to brush back the slightly long stray hairs on his forehead.

He typed a reply quickly.

[Kamiki Tetsu]: Received.

[Kamiki Tetsu]: Remember to buy me a drink.

After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket and looked out the window.

Since this is an "assessment mission," the level of the prey this time shouldn't be too high.

"Perfect."

Kamiki Tetsu touched the side pocket of his backpack, feeling the chill emanating from his fingertips.

"Let's use that prey to consecrate this newly crafted execution blade, and that cursed artifact we found in the warehouse yesterday...