The rain in Tokyo didn't wash things clean. It just made the trash shine.
Renji stood on the curb, water soaking through the thin soles of his knock-off sneakers. He smelled like wet cardboard and failure. Ten minutes ago, the manager of Club Starlight had thrown his bag out the back door.
"You're too depressing, Renji," the manager had said, counting out three wrinkled thousand-yen bills. "Women come here to forget their problems, not to look at a guy who has more than they do."
So, Renji was fired. Again.
He looked at the bills in his hand. Three thousand yen. That was two onigiri and a night in a manga cafe, if he skipped dinner.
F-tier citizen, he thought bitterly [6].
A splash of freezing water hit his legs as a taxi sped by, ignoring his raised hand.
He wiped his face. Across the street, parked illegally in front of a closed boutique, sat a monster.
It was a Bentley Continental GT. Black. Sleek. A shark made of metal and money. The engine was off, but the lights were dim.
Renji stared. It wasn't the car that caught his attention. It was the person inside.
Through the rain-streaked window, he saw a woman. She was staring at the steering wheel like it was a tombstone. In her right hand, she held a small orange bottle.
Renji knew that look. He'd seen it in the mirror enough times.
He didn't think. He didn't check for police. He crossed the street, dodging a delivery truck that honked long and loud.
He walked up to the driver's side window.
He knocked.
Rap. Rap. Rap.
The woman jumped. The bottle slipped from her fingers and scattered pills across the beige leather lap of her skirt.
She looked up. Her eyes were wide, rimmed with red, and absolutely dead.
She rolled down the window two inches. The blast of air conditioning that hit Renji's face smelled expensive. Lavender and ozone.
"I don't have any cash," she whispered. Her voice was cracked, like dry ice.
"I don't want cash," Renji lied. He wanted cash very much. "I want to know if you're going to eat all those, or if you're willing to share."
The woman blinked. The shock of the question stalled her tears.
"What?"
"The pills," Renji said, leaning down so his wet hair dripped onto the pristine glass. "Sleeping pills? Painkillers? If you take the whole bottle, you won't drift off peacefully. You'll vomit on that nice Italian leather, choke on it, and die smelling like bile. It's a messy way to go for a lady in a Bentley."
It was cruel. It was raw. It was the only thing that would cut through the fog in her brain.
The woman stared at him. She looked at the pills on her lap. Then she unlocked the door.
Click.
Renji opened it and slid into the passenger seat.
Water pooled instantly around his feet, staining the lambswool mats [1]. The contrast was violent. On the left, a woman wearing a suit worth more than Renji's entire life earnings. On the right, a soaked student who shivered uncontrollably.
"You're wet," she said stupidly.
"And you're dying," Renji replied. "I think I have the bigger problem. Wet dries. Dead doesn't."
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
She was beautiful, in a terrifying, brittle way. High cheekbones, pale skin, hair pulled back in a severe bun that was starting to fray. She looked about forty-five, but her eyes looked a thousand years old.
"Why did you get in?" she asked. Her hands were shaking on the wheel. "I could call the police."
"You were about to kill yourself," Renji said, leaning back and ruining the upholstery. "You weren't going to call anyone."
"My husband..." She stopped. "My ex-husband. He took the company today. He took the house. He took the accounts."
"So you let him take your life too?" Renji asked. "That's a generous divorce settlement."
She flinched. The anger flared in her eyes—just for a second. That was good. Anger was heat. Anger was life.
"Get out," she hissed.
"No."
"I said get out!"
"Make me."
Renji sat there, calm, immovable, while the rain hammered the roof. He closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He was starving. But for some reason, sitting next to this broken woman, he felt a strange hum in his chest.
It wasn't his heart.
It was deeper.
He reached out. He didn't grab her. He just placed his hand on the center console, inches from her trembling arm.
The air in the car changed.
It grew heavy. Static electricity prickled on Renji's skin [7].
What is this?
He felt a coldness radiating from her. Not the cold of the AC. This was a spiritual frost. It felt like standing at the edge of a black hole. She wasn't just sad; she was rotting from the inside out [2].
A sharp pain spiked in Renji's temple.
Ding.
A sound, clear as a bell, rang inside his skull.
A translucent blue box materialized in the air, floating above the dashboard. Renji blinked, thinking he was hallucinating from hunger.
The text scrolled rapidly, glowing with a soft neon light.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
[SCANNING TARGET...]
Renji looked at the woman. She didn't see the box. She was staring at him, her lips parted in confusion.
[TARGET DETECTED]
[NAME: Elena Tsukimoto]
[AGE: 45]
[STATUS: CEO (Terminated)]
[SPIRIT GRADE: S-CLASS VOID]
[CONDITION: Critical Emotional Necrosis]
Renji read the words. S-Class Void?
A second box popped up, red and urgent.
[WARNING: Target is consuming ambient Life Force. Proximity Danger.]
[OPPORTUNITY: Repair the Void. Restore the Spirit.]
[REWARD: System Activation + Life Link.]
[DO YOU ACCEPT THE CONTRACT?]
Renji looked at the floating words, then at Elena. She was shivering now, hugging herself, the pills forgotten on the floor. She looked like a child lost in the dark.
She had money. She had power. And she had nothing.
He had nothing. But apparently, he had this.
Renji smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a man who just found a weapon in a fistfight.
"Drive," Renji said.
Elena looked at him, startled. "What? Where?"
Renji pointed at the road ahead.
"Anywhere but here. You want to die? Fine. But not tonight. Tonight, you have a consultant."
[CONTRACT ACCEPTED.]
The blue box shattered into particles of light that rushed into Renji's chest. A surge of heat—violent and golden—flooded his veins, chasing away the cold of the rain.
For the first time in his life, Renji wasn't just a spectator.
He was the player.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[Job Class Acquired: THE RESTORER]
[Current Balance: 0 Energy]
[WARNING: Host energy critical. Initiate physical contact to prevent cardiac arrest.]