Satoru Suzuki
5:00 A.M, his alarm blared.
Another Monday, another week began.
The day started like any other in his depressingly boring life. He woke up, went to the bathroom to do basic hygiene, then went to the kitchen to eat breakfast.
Breakfast was slightly different today, though. Today he ate bacon-and-eggs-flavored nutrient paste instead of rice-miso-and-natto-flavored ones, as he usually did. But since the former almost reached its expiration date, he ate it all today to not let it go to waste.
As the sticky, gooey paste hit his tongue, he was immediately reminded why he hadn't eaten it in a while. Out of all the flavours that he had eaten, this one was by far the worst. It tasted spoiled and smelled like garbage on a hot day.
It took all that he had to swallow it.
He was one who firmly believed that food was for nutrients only and taste was pointless as everything became shit in the end. His tastebuds though, had limits.
He could tolerate awful-tasting food just fine. The other pastes tasted only marginally better, and he had been eating them since his mother passed. This one here, though, tested his tolerance. It tasted like the spoiled version of the steak-flavoured one.
Luckily, he had only bought one tube for curiosity's sake. And also due to it being on sale for dirt cheap, as if they were giving it away for free. He now understood why.
Foolishly, he had not seen the writing on the wall. He was blinded by the bargain, so now he had to suffer the consequences.
As he swallowed clump after clump of the foul paste, each one harder to swallow than the last, he left the kitchen and headed for the room at the end of the hallway.
Inside sat the usual sight he saw each morning and each night: a high-class chair with a footrest, a black screen on its stand, and a two-layered wheeled table. On the table were some cables, an empty nanomachine syringe that looked like a seal stamp, and a picture frame of two smiling adults holding a baby. The only valuable things in this house.
Seating himself on the chair, he reached for the remote and turned the TV screen on. "…as tension rose between our nation's Third Arcology and China's Second Arcology over the rights to harvest resources in the disputed land between them, experts believe conflicts will happen. Whether widespread armed forces were to be used remained to be seen…"
Tuning out the reporter's voice, he continued to eat his breakfast. He never cared about politics, worldwide or national.
So what if war were to break out? It's not like he was expected on the battlefield. The mega-corps already had their private militaries for that. They certainly don't need office worker Satoru Suzuki to hold a gun for them.
His purpose wasn't to fight, it was to make money for them to fight with. And he was perfectly okay with that. Though, if a new World War were to happen…
On second thoughts, let's not go there.
As he gulped down the last of the paste, trying desperately not to wretch, the part of the news he had been waiting for was finally on screen. A lady dressed in a neat suit narrated the weather forecast.
"As humidity continued to rise, rainfall was expected over the next few days. Citizens are recommended to bring protective clothing when they leave home. Those unlucky enough to be caught in the rain are advised to cover any exposed cybernetic-enhanced parts by any means necessary. Other natural phenomena would also be affected by the increased humidity, such as,-"
The weather lady continued to speak, but he no longer paid attention. The only part he needed to hear was over with. So he got off the chair, turned the TV off, and got ready for work.
Everything was routine by now. Suit, pants, gas mask, goggles. And since there might be some acidic rain in the future, he also brought an umbrella, made with chemical-resistant materials. Not much in terms of protection, but it served its purpose.
He could have bought a full-body protective suit, and he had enough money for it, but buying was one thing, maintaining it was another entirely. After a few seconds of his intracranial computer implant calculating the estimated cost of owning one, he concluded that it would have been too much of a strain on his self-imposed budget.
The neural nano-interface brain implant had been the last gift his mother ever gave him.
After she died, her bank account had been put under his control, so he used some of that money for the implant so he could find work. The rest he put into savings.
Without his mother, he would have starved a long time ago.
Glancing at the clock, it was 5:56. If he left now, he would be at work before 7.
After putting on one of his worn-out pair of shoes, he moved to the door and opened it. The door shrieked that same ear-splitting noise that bid him goodbye when he left and welcomed him home when he returned.
As he locked the door with the three locks, his mind wandered back to the thought of replacing them with an electronic lock, but just like last time and many times before that, he dismissed it.
Sure, it would have been more convenient and more secure than what he had currently, but it wasn't like he had anything to steal from. He lived alone, wore no jewellery or expensive watches on his wrist, his shoes were banged up, and his clothes were almost threadbare. He was sure that if someone wanted to rob the apartments in this complex, his home would be at the bottom of their list.
Was he being too stingy with his money? He didn't think so. It was just that the concerns he currently had were not worth wasting his funds. It didn't matter to him that his bank account was loaded with cash, as he always thought that it was stupid to waste money on useless things.
Leaving the complex, he passed by some of his neighbours, but he didn't bother saying hi, and neither did they. Despite living on the same floor, he admitted he didn't know their names, and he was sure they didn't know his either. He had nothing against them, he just preferred interacting with people who shared the same hobby with him, like his friends in Yggdrasil.
While on his way to work, he couldn't help but feel that something would happen that day. Which confused him. Today wasn't any public holiday, and neither were there any special events planned, not in the real world, not in Yggdrasil either. So why did he get that feeling in his gut?
Trying his best to ignore the feeling, he continued walking his way to the office. Where he would clock in for another day of routine, tedious, mentally exhaustive labour to sustain himself just so he could do it all over again tomorrow. Day after day, week after week until he finally died.
He wondered what would happen to him without Yggdrasil in his life.
Speaking of, he was quite excited to log on this day. His guild, Ainz Ooal Gown, had made plans to meet up and challenge a raid together. If the info they bought was correct, the boss would drop a lot of good loot and even some rare material for armour and weapons. And if the info was false, and they were led to an ambush, he and Punito Moe had made plenty of contingency for that.
He couldn't wait for his workday to end, hopefully with nothing too bad occurring.
His work ended like any other standard day.
Fourteen hours of work had just ended and there was nothing out of the ordinary. He had spent the entire time sitting in his cubicle, enticing customers to buy products that they probably didn't need, checking deliveries, and enduring his boss's tantrums.
Overall, just any standard work day. Which made the feeling he still had in his gut all the more concerning.
He was on his way back home. The smog that enveloped this part of town was unnaturally denser around him than it usually was. He couldn't even see two feet ahead of him. It must have been because of the heightened humidity; like the weather lady had said.
If he had not walked this path for years, he would have easily gotten lost. But he had travelled this way so many times now that he was on autopilot between work and home. So hopefully, there was nothing to worry about. Yet the unease he had felt in the morning continued to haunt him.
Why did he keep having that feeling?
Try as hard as he could, he couldn't shake it off. He wondered if there might be something wrong with his bodily implants. Should he have them checked?
Maybe with the equipment he had at home first, he didn't want to spend time and money in the clinic just to have them tell him he had wasted both.
Speaking of the clinic, hadn't he run out of nanomachines? The syringe had been empty the last he saw it.
And hadn't he forgotten to bring it with him to refill?
Great. Now, he had to make the trip home, grab the thing, make another trip to the clinic, and then go back home again. It would take a lot of time to make all those trips. It was late enough as it was. He wasn't sure he would make it in time to log in on Yggdrasil before everybody else in his guild had already logged off.
Sighing, he resigned himself to the fate of not seeing his comrade for the day and possibly missing out on some juicy loot. He couldn't blame anyone for this, either. He saw the syringe was empty. How could he not have the thought of bringing it with him?
So this must have been why he kept having that uncomfortable feeling deep down in his guts.
As he lost himself in his thoughts, he tripped over something and fell face-first on the pavement.
On the ground, he looked back to see what he had tripped over. What he saw was a body, lying face down on the pavement, clothed in tatters and rags. The body was smaller than he was, but the hair was longer, so it must have been a girl.
Poor thing, to have lived this long just to die in the street.
A pitiable sight, but that was about it. Living in this day and age had already done much to desensitize him to far worse than this.
But what could he do? It had been like this for a long time now. It was best to just go on with his day. He got up and dusted himself off, the corpse was halfway out of his mind already. But then, to his surprise, a soft grunting sound came from the girl.
So she wasn't dead, yet.
Still, it wasn't like it had anything to do with him. He should just go home and mind his own business.
One step. He hesitated.
That was… weird.
He never wanted to do anything with a random body on the streets, so why did the sight of this girl tug at his heartstrings like this? He had seen children far younger rot in the same street, but why was he hesitating now? Was it because she was still alive while the others were not? And why did he feel he needed to do something about it?
But then what was it he was supposed to do?
He could walk away, hoping that he would forget her existence when he woke up tomorrow.
That seemed to be the best bet. He and she had nothing to do with each other, after all.
Or he could try to do something heroic.
Heroic?
Or stupid?
It was best to just walk away. This was not his concern.
"Saving someone who is in trouble is common sense!" A voice in his head told.
He sighed and turned around, the girl's body lying right in front of him now.
Was he seriously going to go through with this?
Crouching down, he put a hand on the girl's shoulder and nudged. Quietly, he asked, "Hey there, are you okay?".
A soft murmuring was his answer, but it didn't tell him much. He called out again, "Hey, do you need some help?".
She tried to speak, but all her response was a grunt and a few painful coughs. There must have been something wrong with her lungs or her throat. If he left her as intended originally, she wouldn't long for this world. He could call her an ambulance and then hope for the best of luck for her.
Yeah, that idea seemed good.
But what would happen to her after that?
If she didn't have enough money on her, they would abandon her to her fate, anyway. But by that point, it wouldn't be his problem anymore.
Or would it?
"Saving someone who is in trouble is common sense!"
Sighing, he then scooped her up in his arm, her face now facing him. She looked dirty, her clothes in tatters and her face was marred with ash and soot. Bruises and cuts all over her body. Did she start a fight or something? She should have worn a gas mask like him, especially in this smog.
He found her mask, it was on the ground next to where she was lying.
It is of a much older model and is even more worn out than his. It was also broken. The filters on either side of the mask were scratched, exposing the inner components, which were also badly damaged.
Without a gas mask, her lungs, artificial or otherwise, wouldn't be able to handle the usual toxic air, let alone today's especially dense smog. Lucky for her, he was here now. He knew the way to the closest clinic like the back of his hand.
He went as fast as he could, on foot. He didn't call an ambulance; they would take too long to arrive because of the smog. It was best if he took her by himself. Without running. Being hasty in this fog would just invite trouble.
Well, even more troubles than the one he was already in.
That led him to the thought of why he was doing all of this. He never considered himself to be a good person. Then why do I go this far for someone I didn't know?
It took close to half an hour for him to take her to where she could be fixed up. All that time, he keeps coming up with different scenarios about why the girl has gotten herself into this mess. The worst one that he can come up with is that she has made some enemies. The gas mask looked like it had been cut open and she was bruised and cut all over. She could have messed with someone she shouldn't have and then been beaten up as a warning.
And by helping her, he has put himself on that someone's hit list.
Too late for second thoughts. The entrance to the clinic was right in front of him.
Taking her to the emergency reception, the lady there, in a voice that cared very little about his situation, told him to be quick and to put the girl in one of the many machines that lined the reception hall. He had used them many times before but he didn't care enough to learn about their name.
The machine looked like a bed but with a glass dome on top. Patients would be placed inside to be scanned from head to toe for any anomaly within their bodies and the result would then be shown to a doctor to save time and effort on manual scanning.
To his knowledge, the machine rarely took too long for results, so thankfully he didn't need to wait here all night.
Now that he could finally catch his breath, he found a nearby chair to sit down. He then took off his gas mask and took in a lung full of the clinic air. Unlike the outside, where it was hot and polluted, and also very toxic, the air inside was sterile and a little cold. It also smelled like bleach and alcohol. But hey, at least it was clean and somewhat refreshing. Beats coughing my lungs out, that's for sure.
After a few minutes, a doctor came, looked at the diagnostic on the girl's scanner, and then turned to him.
"Are you her relative?" The doctor asked.
"Not really. I just found her collapsed on the street."
The doctor's next reply is like the air within this place: clean, sterile, cold. "After checking the patient's condition, the machine also checks the registries and personal ID within her implants. It usually comes back with a list of people related to the patient and another list of affiliated workplaces. Both are empty. So I hope you will take over as her contact with the clinic while she's in treatment."
The worst-case scenario blared inside his head. No family and no workplace, too dangerous, too dangerous! Trying to hide his inner panic, he asked the doctor, "What would happen if I don't take responsibility?"
"Then she would be put in Minimal Care, where she will stay until her condition will either turn for the better, which she will be discharged with no fees attached, or it turns worse, which she will be transferred to a national public healthcare facility. In either case, it's no longer yours or this clinic's problem." The doctor responded, still as cold and detached as before.
The answer is simple, then. Best to leave now. He has done all that he could, and he wants no more problems than he already has.
But right as he was about to respond, a painful-sounding cough came from her direction, then a few more.
He looked at her in the scanner. Ash and soot stained the glass above her mouth, her breathing laboured, her face paled, and she was sweating black, beady droplets from her forehead, arms, and legs, staining the cushion underneath.
The answer that should have come easy to him was now stuck in his throat. Was he about to make the right choice? What was the right choice, even?
And why does seeing her in pain hurt him so?
"Saving someone who is in trou-"
I get it okay! Stop reminding me! And it was not like leaving her to her fate now would magically erase his involvement in this whole mess either.
Sighing outwardly, he agreed to be her contact, which seemed to catch the doctor off guard.
"Huh?" Pulling himself out of his bewilderment, the doctor blurted out, "You will?"
After realizing he was being unprofessional, the doctor corrected himself. "I mean, thank you, sir. Most would have left her to her fate." He said in a warmer, kinder tone. "So while she's getting the emergency treatment, you will need to fill out the paperwork. The lady at the reception will help you with it. Just give me a second."
Why did he sound so… genuinely grateful?
The doctor then went to the reception desk, said something to the lady that he didn't quite catch, and beckoned him over. After that, the doctor left.
Still confused over the sudden change in the doctor's attitude, he went over as was asked. The lady, while her attitude changed a little, was more patient this time. As she guided him on how to best fill each of the spaces on one of the admission terminals, the doctor returned, this time with a few nurses and a stretcher. They took the girl out of the machine and onto a stretcher and then to another room at the end of the hall.
The machine, now empty, began cleaning and disinfecting itself. It whirred and buzzed, and he could also hear the chemicals being sprayed inside it. By the time it was done, it was spotless. There was no trace of the girl ever being there.
Focusing himself back on the admission forms, he tried his best to put down anything that the lady said was important, but as he didn't know things such as the girl's name and address, the lady told him to put his name and address in as a placeholder.
After he finished filling out everything he could on the terminal, the reception lady told him to wait until the processing was done and then pay the fees. Which he expected to be a lot according to the times he was unlucky enough to require this place's service.
And just as he thought, the fee was enormous. And it was just the admission alone. There would also be charges for the room she will stay in, for food, medical supplies, other miscellaneous services, and any tests or procedures that might pop up along the way. He was going to be spending a lot on this girl.
It was fortunate that he had a small fortune saved up.
He sighed once more and then placed his hand in an alcove on the side of the terminal. Inside, the terminal would scan for a chip at the back of his hand.
The chip acted as both a personal ID and a bank card. After it finished scanning the back of his hand, it scanned the front for his fingerprints. It also checked his vitals to make sure that he was alive and that the hand was still connected to his person. Basic, boring security procedures.
After everything was verified, only then did the transaction go through, signalled by a thumbs up and a smiley face on the terminal screen.
It looks stupid.
Now that his part in this mess was over, the lady told him to wait for the doctor to come back with the detailed examination result before he went home.
Seeing as there was nothing he could do right now, he sent a quick email on his phone to his guildmates to tell them he couldn't log on tonight. Hopefully, he wouldn't miss out on too much. But considering his luck today, he wouldn't bet on it.
After waiting for some time, the doctor returned and handed him a sheet of paper. "The patient has multiple contusions and abrasions on her torso, arms, and legs, but there's no danger to her health and will be healed in time. Her lung implants, however, were corroded slightly and required to be cleaned and some parts replaced. But her vitals are stable so we can operate on her tonight. She will probably wake up soon after the operation. Tomorrow's evening at the latest." The doctor said, smiling.
"Oh! The patient is malnourished and requires a well-planned diet with specific nutrient intake for the next few months. As a result, she will need to come back for regular check-ups. But beyond that, she will be hail and healthy." He added quickly.
That's good news, at least.
He gives the doctor a slight bow, thanking him. Despite being quite exhausted with this entire ordeal, formality was still formality.
Finally, he could go back home. He was exhausted. He didn't think he had it in him to play Yggdrasil at the moment. Though, since the nanomachines syringe remained empty, he couldn't even log on to Yggdrasil even if he wanted to.
But at least I did a good deed today.
He hoped it wouldn't come back and bite him in the butt later.
By the time he reached his apartment, it was already close to midnight. Too tired to even eat, he plopped onto his bed. Without even showering and changing his clothes, he fell asleep until the next morning.
That night, he dreamt of the girl. But she looked different, cleaner this time, wearing a red cloak like the ones in those fantasy anime he watched. Her red eyes stared at him, then she smiled at him with a ridiculously radiant smile. All the while Touch Me voice echoes, "Saving someone who is in trouble is common sense!"
He would soon forget about this dream, but right now, for the first time in a long while, he felt whole.