As a weirdo, I like being a Kamen Rider

Bai Ya lowered the whistle from his lips, the metal whistle gleaming coldly in his palm. He slowly raised his head, his compound eyes sweeping across the brightly lit stadium sky.

Beyond the sky, where no one could see, stood the figures of God W and the Man of the Beginning.

Bai Ya's gaze lingered on the two men for a long time. He hadn't expected that these beings, whom they regarded as monkeys, would have such guardians.

Perhaps humanity will eventually follow the same path as Fimsim, failing in trials and perishing in greed. But at least they won't, like their people, eke out a living in ruins, pinning their hopes on nothing but fruitless fruits.

He gripped the whistle tightly and turned his gaze back to the jubilant green field below.

......

Kota Kuzuha stood in the center circle, the grass beneath his feet so soft it seemed unreal.

On the opposite side, Kaito Kazuma led his entire Team Baron onto the field. Their lemon-yellow jerseys were particularly dazzling under the arena lights. Kaito's gaze swept across the half-court and fixed directly on Kota, a familiar, aggressive smile curving his lips.

"beep--"

The whistle blew again.

Less than thirty seconds into the fight, Kaito drew the Sengoku Driver from his waist and fastened the Banana Lockseed.

"Lock On! Come On! Banana Arms!"

Golden armor instantly enveloped his entire body as Kamen Rider Baron ducked and slid in, intercepting the Gaim team's kickoff. His banana-shaped spear materialized in his hand, its shaft held horizontally, and he used its side to send the soccer ball flying far to the left flank. A deafening roar erupted from the stands.

"Go!!"

Kouta was jolted back to reality by the sound. Yuya shoved him from behind: "Kouta! Stop spacing out! It's our turn!"

He instinctively reached for his waist—and there really was the Sengoku Driver hanging there. The Orange Lock Seed was burning hot in his palm.

"Lock On! Soiya! Orange Arms!"

An orange light exploded. Kouta transformed into Gaim: Orange Armor, and the Great Orange Ball materialized in his hand. Instead of swinging the sword to slash, he held it horizontally and precisely caught the high ball passed by Yuya with the blade, then smoothly deflected it, and the ball landed steadily at his feet.

On the field, the roar of transformations mingled with the cheers of the audience. The Gaim and Baron teams fiercely battled on the green pitch, the sparks flying from the clashing armor particularly dazzling. The Giant Orange and the Banana Spear crossed paths, but never aimed at human bodies, serving only as an extension of their struggle for the football.

The offense and defense constantly alternated.

His obsession with fighting was even stronger than in reality. Every time he dribbled the ball, it was like a charge; his golden armor slashed through the crowd, his banana-shaped spear sweeping across, forcing back two Gaim team defenders, before unleashing a powerful shot—

The football grazed the goalpost and went out of bounds.

"Damn it!" Jiedou slammed his fist on the grass, immediately got up and roared, "Again! Baron won't lose!"

Yuya repeatedly broke through from the flanks and proactively passed the ball to Kota. Every pass was terrifyingly accurate, as if he could predict Kota's every move.

"Kouta! Over here!" Yuya passed the ball to the left wing once again, while he himself made a forward run. "Go all out for victory! Only the championship can make our dreams come true!"

Kota catches the ball, but his peripheral vision falls on Yuya's waist.

There was a Lockseed pinned there. It wasn't one used in the competition, but a Lockseed he had never seen before, gleaming with a dark red light. In this world, there was no Helheim Forest, no Others; Lockseeds were merely props for the competition—yet the aura emanating from that Lockseed made Kouta feel inexplicably uneasy.

“Yuya,” Kouta grabbed his arm during a defensive lapse, “that Lockseed on your waist is—”

"To win the championship!" Yuya interrupted him with a smile, casually swatting away Kota's hand and turning to run to the next open spot. "Don't overthink it! Pass the ball to me!"

Hirota stood frozen in place.

On the commentary stage, DJ Sagara's voice rose again, echoing throughout the venue:

"Everyone! The ultimate prize in the finals—the Golden Fruit! Win the championship and any wish will come true! Team Gaim, Team Baron, Team Charmant, and the knights of the World Tree faction—everyone is fighting for this!"

The stands erupted. Countless people chanted "Golden Fruit," the roar almost lifting the stadium off its feet.

Kouta looked down at his hands, the orange armor gleaming artificially under the light. He thought of Yuya's dark red Lockseed, of Yuya's identical smile whenever he was questioned, and of all the people in this world who should have died but were still alive and well.

Win the championship.

Take the golden fruit.

The idea was forcibly implanted into his mind, like an irresistible program.

Kouta gritted his teeth and raised his head. On the opposite side, Kaito had already charged forward again with the ball, his golden armor rapidly enlarging in his field of vision.

He had no choice but to go to meet him.

In the shadows at the top of the stadium, Lin Chen's gaze pierced through the noisy crowd and landed on the figure wearing the Team Kamen Rider jersey on the green field. Kakui Yuya was passing the ball and running around with a familiar smile, blending seamlessly with his teammates.

Lin Chen's lips curled slightly as he turned to Labis beside him and said, "It seems that an uninvited guest has appeared in this world."

Labis followed his gaze, his youthful face suddenly freezing. He stared at the barely visible dark red locket on Yuya's waist, his emerald green compound eyes contracting sharply, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the cheers from the crowd:

"impossible……"

He subconsciously took half a step forward.

"I...I sealed him away a long time ago," he muttered to himself, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty. "How could he...reappear?"

Chapter 281 Reality or Illusion

As the match progressed, after several intense exchanges, Team Gaim secured a decisive victory, advancing to the next round.

In the exit tunnel, teammates excitedly high-fived each other, oblivious to their sweat-soaked jerseys. Takashi Mai ran over from the cheerleading area, a Team Gaim sticker still on her cheek, and asked Kota with a smile how he came up with that pass.

Kouta twitched the corners of his mouth, but couldn't muster a smile in response.

He retreated alone to the edge of the field, his hands braced against the fence. A gentle breeze drifted in from outside, carrying the scent of fresh grass and the lingering noise of the departing crowd.

But none of this is right.

A peaceful city, an outsider ignored by all. Friends who have returned from the dead, all so vividly real.

Hirota's expression was solemn.

One strange thing after another piled up, like a net that tightened and tightened. He remembered the dark red lock around Yuya's waist, the same smile that appeared every time he pressed him for answers, and the meaningful look in DJ Sagara's eyes when he announced the start of the competition.

What I'm seeing isn't real at all.

"Kouta!" Yuya's voice came from behind, urging, "Let's go! The victory celebration is waiting!"

He slowly loosened the fence, turned around, and a smile returned to his face.

"...They've arrived."

The locker room of a team belonging to the World Tree Foundation.

The metal lockers were arranged in a neat matrix, and the cool white light bulbs illuminated the room without casting any shadows. The players sat or stood, their jerseys still stained with grass clippings and sweat, and the atmosphere was heavy.

"That guy... is more troublesome than I expected." A teammate tossed a towel onto the bench. "That last game-winning shot, even though he was surrounded by three players, he still managed to break through from that blind spot..."

“This isn’t an ordinary shot.” ​​Sid’s lips curled into a cold smile. “It’s a ‘slash.’ That guy, Kouta Kazuha, incorporated the slashing trajectory of Daidomaru into his kicking motion. It’s a brutal yet effective style of play.”

A calm voice cut through the noise. Sengoku Ryoma turned around from in front of the tactical board, his eyes behind his glasses slightly narrowed, as if he were examining a group of experimental equipment that was not yet fully polished.

“Analyzing the opponent is something for after the match.” He pushed up his glasses, his fingertip pointing to the Kamen Rider Gaim team emblem on the tactics board. “Now, I want you to remember one thing—there is only one Golden Fruit, and only one champion. Kouta Kazuha is indeed very strong, but his confusion is also real. That half-hearted determination will only become a fatal flaw on the final stage.”

He surveyed the crowd, his voice not loud, yet carrying a chilling, oppressive quality:

"The World Tree doesn't need a runner-up. What I want is victory, the result of firmly grasping that 'divine gift' in my hands. Understand? In the next match, I will not allow anyone to fall behind, and I will not allow anyone... to show mercy to the enemy."

"Yes!" the team members responded in unison.

Just then, the locker room door was pushed open.

Minato Yoko leaned against the doorframe, dressed in the World Tree Foundation's cheerleader uniform—a short skirt in deep purple and silver-white—yet holding a tablet recording the opponents' data in her hand, a stark contrast that strangely suited her. She walked in with crisp steps, her high heels clicking confidently on the marble floor.

"The atmosphere is rather heavy, everyone." She tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips, and placed the tablet face down on the table in front of Ryoma. "However, the coach is right. Team Gaim just went through a tough battle, and Kouta's stamina and Lockseed energy are mostly depleted. And the next match—" She paused, her gaze sweeping across each player's face, "is our home game."

She suddenly clapped her hands, and the cheerleading pom-poms spun beautifully in her hands, her businesslike expression instantly transforming into an almost dazzling smile:

"So, lift your heads! Everyone from World Tree, you are the kings who will rule this stage! For the conglomerate, for the Golden Fruit—" The colorful ball soared high, her clear voice echoing in the locker room, "We absolutely must win! Go for it!"

After a brief silence, a low, rhythmic chorus erupted from the locker room. Sengoku Ryoma glanced at Minato Yoko, a meaningful glint in his eyes behind his glasses, before turning back to the tactical board.

“Very good.” He picked up a marker and drew a bright red X on the Gaim team's logo. “Then, let those brats see... what a real ‘match’ is.”

The rooftop door closed gently behind him, shutting out the cold tactical deployment of Sengoku Ryoma and the crisp cheers of Minato Yoko from the locker room behind the steel door. The night wind lifted the hem of his blue and white jersey as Wu Dao Guihu walked to the railing and braced his hands against the cold metal bars.

The night view of Zeya City unfolded beneath my feet, a myriad of lights like an inverted galaxy. There were no spatial rifts, no roars of aliens, no nauseatingly sweet stench of the Helheim Forest. A few fans, just leaving the stadium, strolled along the streets. Everything was eerily peaceful.

He couldn't help but squint.

This peace, this false prosperity, reminded him of what Lin Chen had said in the lounge—"When the strong disappear, new strong will appear." At the time, he scoffed, thinking it was nothing more than the arrogance of the victors. But now, looking at this city that had been so well protected during the "trial," he suddenly realized that his past "Ark Project" and Ling Ma's current obsession with the Golden Fruit were essentially no different.

They are all taking things away from us.

"What are you thinking?"

A familiar voice came from the shadows. Lin Chen leaned against the ventilation duct, his dark trench coat replaced with a casual jacket the same color as the World Tree Foundation's football team, twirling a dull, lusterless Extreme Lock Seed in his hand. He walked forward and stood beside Gui Hu by the railing, their gazes also fixed on the lights.

Guihu didn't turn around, his voice low and deep, "Is this your masterpiece?"

“It’s ‘our’ masterpiece,” Lin Chen corrected, putting the Extreme Lock Seed into his pocket. “The overlord alien Labis provided the dream power, W reconstructed the framework of the rules, the Man of the Beginning gave it an ‘end’... and I only provided an idea.”

He paused, then turned to look at Guihu: "Let the trials no longer be life-or-death struggles, but competitions with clear winners and losers. Let the ownership of the golden fruits be determined by sweat and will, not by blood and death."

Wu Daogui remained silent for a long time. The night wind ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead, and the words "World Tree" printed on the back of his jersey gleamed coldly under the neon lights.

“But even in a world like this, my men still have ulterior motives.” He finally said, “For them, this is still just a way to gain power… They all want to turn this competition into another life-or-death war.”

"Don't worry," Lin Chen said calmly. "I already know the reason. I will handle this matter, and you just need to achieve final victory."

Guihu slowly straightened up, his hands unconsciously gripping the railing tightly.

"What if... what if I lose?"

Lin Chen smiled, turned and walked towards the stairwell, his trench coat billowing in the night wind.

“Then let’s give the stage to Kouta Kuzuha.” His voice drifted on the wind. “Anyway, there are no losers in this trial. There are only… people who are not ready to make a choice yet, and sometimes the loser is not necessarily the loser.”

The iron gate to the rooftop opened and closed again, leaving Wu Daogui alone between the night wind and the lamplight. He looked down at his hands—hands that had once been prepared to be stained with blood for Project Ark, but now only wore a pair of worn-out goalkeeper gloves.

He slowly clenched his fist, his gaze passing over the city lights and landing on the sky above the stadium, a sky invisible to most people, shimmering with iridescent colors.

"...A choice?" he murmured to himself.

......

Kouta Kuzuha walked away alone from the hustle and bustle of the victory celebration.

The night breeze carried the chill of early autumn, aimlessly meandering through familiar streets. After an unknown amount of time, my footsteps stopped at a quiet corner park.

This used to be Team Gaim's base.

The dim streetlights cast long shadows of him. The bench was empty, and the deafening dance music from the stereo was gone. Kouta slowly looked up at the wall—the concrete wall they had secretly covered in graffiti under the cover of night. There should have been exaggerated orange patterns and the flamboyant signature of "Team Gaim" there.