Chapter 2: There Was a Problem with This Reward

The train swayed and roared intermittently.

Kitahara paced through the carriage, looking somewhat troubled. There was no sign of a molester... As expected, this system was unreliable, assigning a task meant for his thirty-five-year-old self to his sixteen-year-old body.

He walked through several carriages, confirming that no "train wolf" incident was occurring. Reluctantly, he abandoned the idea of completing the mission for now.

Looking at it from another perspective.

Though there was no reward, at least he had knowledge of his own future... As long as he acted cautiously and avoided reckless moves, he could prevent a tragic fate.

A golden finger (cheat) should not be such a hindrance.

As Kitahara pondered this, his eyes suddenly flicked to a familiar figure in the corner of the carriage—a girl he seemed to know, surrounded by a few drunken men.

Though there was no physical contact and the surroundings weren’t crowded, she seemed uncomfortable... Was she too afraid to speak? Or was there another reason?

He decided to take a closer look.

...

Akane Takagi hid in the shadows, her hair falling over her forehead as she cautiously and timidly glanced around.

It was late, and the nearby passengers were all drunkards. She was worried and wanted to leave but feared bumping into others.

She felt a bit scared...

Could she be encountering a molester?

Akane looked nervously at the two men beside her.

Sensing her gaze, one middle-aged man in a suit quietly turned his head away, though he didn’t leave.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kitahara noticed a pair of fair, slender legs... very beautiful, truly worthy of being called “legs for days.”

Those legs were exquisite—if he could touch them, they’d probably be smooth and soft...

The middle-aged man had lustful thoughts but lacked courage; he only dared to lean over symbolically. After all, the train was crowded—if their hands accidentally brushed, it could easily be explained as an accident.

These thoughts lingered until Kitahara approached.

“Why are you still as clueless as before?” he said, leaning in to look, speaking casually.

“You’re the clueless one!” Akane pouted, looking at the figure before her with slight grievance.

Was she someone he knew?

The middle-aged man instinctively shifted to make way, giving Kitahara space. Without hesitation, Kitahara squeezed in, pushing the suited man aside. The two men shot Kitahara a glare.

He glanced back. “Got a problem?”

“This is our seat.”

“Oh? It’s mine now. Any objections?” Kitahara retorted.

“You...”

The two middle-aged men were driven away by Kitahara, looking unwilling but powerless.

A high school boy is at his physical peak; any conflict with him would only end badly for the adults.

They silently thought they had underestimated this kid.

Then, Akane found herself surrounded and cornered by Kitahara.

They faced each other as he scrutinized her closely.

The girl had long, silky, straight hair, neatly tied into a ponytail with a rubber band. She was quite beautiful, with a delicate oval face and a chest budding like spring bamboo shoots—a subtle hint of blossoming youth.

If she dressed up properly, she’d be stunning.

They knew each other from junior high.

Kitahara drifted into memories.

Akane was the shy type who wouldn’t even dare to borrow an eraser, timid and distant in conversation. Talking with her required constant care with words; their relationship had to be gently polished like interlocking gears.

If he accidentally made a risqué joke, she’d blush furiously and say she was angry—like a hedgehog, soft on the inside but prickly when stressed.

Later, as they grew closer, she became like a big hedgehog—soft-spoken with others but delivering heavy blows to Kitahara.

—Physical blows, that is.

They stared at each other for a moment, the atmosphere growing awkward. Kitahara decided he should say something.

“You’ve gotten fatter since the last time I saw you.”

“You jerk! I’ve been watching what I eat during the holidays. Where do you see fat?” Akane frowned, almost punching him, but seeing his serious gaze, her voice dropped and her confidence wavered.

Could she really have gained weight?

She lifted her head to glance at him and decided to avoid that painful topic, asking curiously, “Why are you still out so late?”

“What, are you checking my residence?”

“Just asking... no need to be so mean.” Akane mumbled.

“And you? Why are you coming home so late?” Kitahara asked.

Because they lived close, their eyes often met, so Akane lowered her gaze, drawing small circles with her left foot on the floor.

“I thought since my new home is closer, I brought a late-night snack to my mom who’s working the night shift...”

Such a dutiful daughter.

And she even had a place in Bunkyo Ward.

Kitahara’s heart ached a little, recalling how in the future he had sold the old family home and taken on a twenty-year mortgage just to afford a place in Bunkyo.

Akane glanced at his clothes, realizing he went to the same school, and quietly said, “You study at this school too?”

“Oh? You’re also at Kitakita Okamine? Why haven’t I seen you around?”

Kitahara was stunned.

He had been at the school for a year and had never once run into Akane.

“I don’t go out much after class... A few times I thought you looked familiar and wanted to say hi, but you never noticed me, so I gave up.”

Akane sounded a bit upset and almost punched him again but held back.

“This semester, we’re in the same class... I saw your name on the bulletin board.”

Kitahara hadn’t paid attention to that and asked which class she was in. Then, casually:

“You follow me that closely?”

Akane was momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushed slightly.

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m just worried about not making friends. The girls I knew in freshman year went to other classes. I’m shy and don’t dare talk to others. I heard that’s why no one likes you in a new class. Having you around makes me feel safer...”

She stammered, and when Kitahara smiled slightly, her face reddened even more, and she pouted.

“Why are you laughing so disgustingly? I didn’t say anything weird...”

“I’m not laughing...”

The two fell silent. Akane didn’t know what to say, while Kitahara was still preoccupied with his mission.

Seeing the imposing Kaneyama right in front of him but unable to act made him uneasy.

He decided to ask Akane for information.

“By the way, on your way home, did you see a pretty girl being harassed by drunk men?”

“Is there really such a person...?” Akane blinked in confusion and looked around. It was late, and the carriage wasn’t crowded. Apart from her, there were only a few working women.

As for pretty, none really fit that description...

But if it was about a pretty girl being harassed...

Probably only...

Akane blinked again but said nothing.

Does he think I’m pretty?

“If not, forget it.”

Seeing Akane remain silent, Kitahara gave up hope. After all, according to the timeline, that incident wouldn’t happen for another decade or so.

But then, a notification popped up.

【Mission Completed】

【You may perform one random draw...】

Hmm?

Wait... the mission’s done?

That meant...

By a twist of fate, he had saved the top manga artist of the publishing house.

Kitahara squinted, staring at Akane for a long moment, making her lower her gaze shyly. Then he asked softly, “Do you usually draw?”

“Sometimes I do.”

“Do you want to be a manga artist?”

“No way. Mom says I’m going to be a doctor...” Akane shook her head.

No need to guess—it was definitely her.

Kitahara’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. A top manga artist, that sounded impressive. The industry was bleak now, but a single phenomenally successful manga could earn at least hundreds of millions of yen.

If she sold the rights, there’d be even more profits... Establishing a good relationship with this classmate early on would mean a worry-free future.

He had to become best friends with Akane before she woke up!

Akane noticed his gaze and grew uneasy... Although she escaped the harassment, it seemed she was trapped in another kind of disturbance.

His eyes were strange...

The train suddenly braked sharply, pushing everyone forward. Kitahara swayed with the crowd and instinctively put a hand down.

It felt soft.

Thankfully, it was a leg; otherwise, Akane might have thrown an elbow.

He looked down and sure enough, Akane’s cheeks were flushed, and she pouted unhappily.

“Did you just touch my leg...?”

“Did I? Then I’ll let you touch mine back.” Kitahara replied candidly.

A fair exchange—that’s the true alchemy.

In truth, it was just being honest with oneself.

After all, it was an accident; Kitahara hadn’t meant to touch her. Saying it frankly was enough.

This wasn’t an anime where a girl would fly into a rage over something like this.

“Who wants to touch your leg...” Akane muttered, closing her mouth but with her beautiful peach blossom eyes lowered, occasionally glancing around.

Kitahara knew her well enough to recognize she wasn’t a bad person. Though she was snarky and had a mischievous heart, she was fundamentally upright and wouldn’t do anything on purpose... He could touch her if he wanted—he was shameless and didn’t mind getting scolded—but nobody else was allowed to make any moves.

Kitahara didn’t care how twisted Akane’s thoughts were. His full attention was on the system’s lottery. A light blue screen appeared with a large wheel, and he scanned it carefully, seeing many famous names.

Van Gogh, Monet, Da Vinci, Picasso...

He had one chance to draw.

Personally, Kitahara liked Monet best.

He admired Monet’s masterpiece, Water Lilies. But all of them were masters—choosing any of them would grant abilities that would make him worry-free for life, letting him easily put any spiteful ex-wife in her place.

“Draw.”

As he spoke, the wheel spun, stopping quickly on one description.

【You have gained master-level oratory skills】

“Huh?”

“What kind of painter is known for speeches?”

Kitahara rubbed his eyes and looked again, catching the faint trace of a mustache.

Damn, Schiller.