I really don't want to be reborn.

"...You have such a good personality, no wonder nobody pays attention to you. Don't you realize how much of a bitch you are?"

"Who are you talking about? I saw you fiddling with your phone all by yourself just now? It's so gloomy! It's all because of you that I'm in this mess!"

"It's so noisy, I just suddenly wanted to watch the Asahi Shimbun..."

Kyosuke Kosaka, reflecting on the way his sister and the black cat got along, suddenly thought of a question: "Speaking of which, I, who got in halfway through, don't even know your name yet. You're not really called Saori, are you?"

"I am Saori Bagina, the administrator of the 'Homebody Girls Gathering' group, and I also write a blog. I am fifteen years old this year, and I am in the third year of middle school."

"That's the same as the two of them."

"Huh, is Xiaotongtong like this too? She looks so mature."

He silently picked up the cup of coffee his sister hadn't finished, took a small sip, and sneered, "If she were mature, I wouldn't be sitting here."

His tone turned questioning again: "You said you're fifteen?"

Look, everyone!

That height!

That figure!

You're telling me you're fifteen?!

"My measurements are 88, 60..."

"Well, no need to explain, I can just estimate it by sight."

"Yes, just like Norika Fujiwara!"

He was impressed by the girl's boldness: "There's nothing to be proud of! Norika Fujiwara and Tomokazu Jinnai both announced their relationships this year, what about you, little girl?"

"Mmm!"

"You've never been with a man before, have you?"

Saori's mouth turned into a cat's mouth again, and she was pouting.

------

Month, month, month... monthly tickets... (I'm going to die)

Blade, blade, blade! (Come back to life!)

I'd also like some comments and book reviews.

Ah, I feel so greedy, I want everything.

Chapter Forty-Seven: From beginning to end, all I did were insignificant little things.

Akihabara.

The sidewalk next to the Washington Hotel.

Mr. Daisuke Kosaka, wearing glasses and holding a newspaper, sat in a corner of McDonald's, staring at the street across the street through the glass window with eyes like a hawk.

He was stalking his daughter.

Although he had reached an agreement with his son a long time ago that Kyosuke would be responsible for Kirino's moral education, Mr. Daisuke was still worried about his daughter's sensitive adolescence.

He believed in his son and that he could raise Kirino well, but in his heart he did not agree with Kyosuke's laissez-faire parenting approach. The father and son had discussed and debated this in private. Kyosuke made a lot of sense. He suggested that Kirino should be allowed to play all the things that interest her during her adolescence, so that she would not be distracted by these things in high school and college.

That's very true.

However, as a father who dotes on his daughter, Daisuke still felt that approach was not quite right.

At the very least, they need to figure out what their daughter has been secretly liking behind their backs. Kirino's income comes from modeling, but the whereabouts of her funds are unclear.

That's the money she earned.

That's true, so Daisuke didn't want to say much about what she bought with her money, like cosmetics, extravagant clothes, bags, etc. In theory, his tolerance for these things was already at its limit.

The mother and daughter colluded, saying it was an essential item for getting along with friends. As the head of the household, I was too lazy to argue with them and could only let them do as they pleased. But where did the extra money go?

Does Kirino buy books as often as her brother?

Are you kidding me?

She's stammering and lying to her own mother; she's definitely hiding something! That bastard Kyosuke probably knows, but he might not tell me.

Mr. Daisuke pushed up his glasses, but no matter how refined they were, they couldn't hide his imposing physique and rugged demeanor, making the waiter serving him tremble with fear.

He's clearly a righteous policeman!

However, he was always feared by everyone, and his colleagues jokingly called him the ultimate evolution of a square face. In addition, his abundant body hair led some people to secretly call him King Kong...

Hmph, King Kong.

Where can you find a square-faced King Kong?

Daisuke sat in his chair, turning his gaze away from the coffee shop across the street, wondering how long his daughter Kirino had been inside, when he suddenly felt several pairs of eyes watching him.

"Ok?"

Daisuke slightly raised his head, his fierce eyes sweeping across the McDonald's staff, who all turned their heads away, pretending to be nonchalant.

what happened?

He didn't have much time to think about it, because Kirino had already come out with two other girls, their faces gloomy as they seemed to be arguing, and they seemed to be preparing to go somewhere else.

Where are they going next?

Besides Akihabara, what else is worth visiting around here—does my daughter want to go to Akihabara?

He paid his bill under the waiter's strange gaze, walked out of McDonald's, and followed the three girls at a distance.

Half an hour later, his brows furrowed more and more, not because his daughter had done anything out of line, but because more and more prying eyes were falling on him.

Daisuke was startled and stopped at the street corner, looking left and right.

The hostile gazes grew more numerous and obvious, and even patrolling police officers were approaching him. The increasing pressure made him instinctively feel that something was wrong.

His thick eyebrows were twisted into a pretzel shape.

Someone shouted, "It's him!"

The pressure materialized as if it were coming from all directions. Several men rushed over, and the patrolling police hesitated for a moment before taking out their batons as well. The encirclement they formed caught Mr. Daisuke Kosaka off guard.

"Catch that stalker!"

"it's him!"

"What...what's going on?"

A group of people swarmed forward and instantly subdued the burly, intimidating-looking man who had been following the young girl for several blocks, resembling a mafia boss, giving him no chance to explain himself.

"I'm not... wait! I'm not a stalker!"

The patrolling policeman chuckled coldly: "I've been following you for half an hour. You've been stalking those girls for a long time, and you still say you're not a stalker?"

“I am that child’s father…sigh…I am also a policeman, I have a police handbook.”

"Oh? Show it to us."

Daisuke, his face grim, reached into his pocket, his expression turning deathly pale.

Oh no, I was in such a rush when I left home this morning, did I forget to bring it...?

…………

As he watched the burly stalker being dragged to the nearby police station by a group of people, Gennosuke Miura wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Finally, it's all over. What a terrifying stalker. It's really tough on Kousaka's sister; she's a part-time model and she still gets into this mess..."

The slovenly otaku sighed as he walked back to the coffee shop he had been in before.

It was quite a challenge for him to persuade the patrolling police in such a short time, but after doing so, he felt a strange sense of accomplishment, a feeling he had never experienced while playing games.

This sense of accomplishment made him swagger back to the coffee shop, his smugness almost palpable as his testicles clattered together.

"This is a sense of accomplishment, this is a real feeling. Compared to the sense of accomplishment you get after beating a game, which only lasts for a short time, isn't this much better?"

That's what Kyosuke Kousaka said while he was still in the coffee shop.

The two boys ordered more food this time, since it was Kosaka's treat and Miura had no reason to be polite.

Kyosuke is right. The sense of accomplishment you get from beating a game is only temporary, and afterwards you feel even more empty—so it's not unreasonable for some people to use heroin as a metaphor for games.

"Come, come, this is an omelet rice that the maid made herself. You've helped me so much, so please don't be shy."

Kyosuke Kosaka smiled broadly: "Who says otaku lack initiative? People without brains and courage will eventually be swept away by the dustpan. Miura, you're destined for great things."

"Come on."

Miura smiled broadly, then quickly became worried: "Even if the stalker goes in, he'll be released soon. Aren't you afraid he'll get even worse? This time it was just stalking, but who knows what he'll do next!"

The boy, who had just kicked his father into a pit, was not worried at all while playing with a police notebook: "Don't worry, my dad won't do something as stupid as stalking again."

"puff--"

Miura spat out the omelet rice in his mouth, his expression resembling that of the painting "The Scream" created in 1895.

"That...that's your father?"

At this moment, Miura's expression was neither human nor ghost. He held his head with both hands, his eyes were wide open in terror, and his mouth was open to an exaggerated degree, as if he was uttering some kind of desperate scream.

"If there were two small boats behind you, it would look even more like that painting... Yes, the burly guy you called the police to take away was my and Kirino's father."

Gennosuke Miura wiped his face haphazardly, then noticed the police notebook in Kyosuke's hand and exclaimed again, losing his composure: "He's a policeman? Do you think your dad knows how much of a jerk you're doing? Aren't you afraid he'll beat you to death?"

Kyosuke Kosaka remained all smiles: "There's even less to worry about. He'll find out from the police who's accusing him of being a stalker, and they'll naturally find out it's a skinny, bespectacled nerd with a strange smell—it's definitely not me."

"Kousaka, you can't do this!"

------

Thanks to Butterfly Fairy for the blades... There are too many names to list them all. You can't stop voting with blades, monthly tickets, and recommendations just because I didn't list any names!

Thank you to Uchiha Runtu and Yunzhong Shui Ji Jin Shu Lai Ne for the generous donations. Thank you for your kindness.

Last night I played the clone mode. Ten Tidal Tricksters were jumping around, and I killed four people, but amused the other five. In terms of total fun, I made a profit and was very happy.

I'm so happy, please feed me!