Turns out railroads are three to four times more efficient than trucks when measured by ton-mile. Why do I know this? No idea. But my unhealthy obsession with reading wouldn't let me skip over the brochures stuffed in the seat pocket on this train ride...
Discounts on tickets to Hokkaido, available from December 28th to January 4th.
My eyes skimmed over the words.
Useful? Doubt it. But who ever said everything I read had to be witch encyclopedias, ancient manuscripts, or magical treatises by the great minds of the supernatural world?
I absentmindedly ran my fingers across the smooth paper of the brochure, lazily tracing the lines with my eyes. In the background, the steady rhythm of the train wheels blended with the muffled beat of Tomoe's music through her headphones. The peace was briefly interrupted by a soft cough.
"Excuse me, ma'am," a short conductor in a neatly pressed uniform appeared in the aisle. His black hair was carefully combed to the side, and his nervous eyes flicked behind his glasses as he addressed my mother.
"Minus five?" Mom blurted out suddenly. I froze, processing what just happened.
The conductor blinked, clearly confused. Mom quickly corrected herself with a thoughtful tilt of her head.
"No, wait, more like minus four," she mused, as if she were conducting an impromptu optical exam.
Her powers of observation? Sharp as ever. Her manners? Not so much.
"Sorry?" the conductor asked, pretending not to understand.
"Oh, nothing important," Mom replied with a sweet smile, brushing it off like a harmless joke. Her tone was playful, almost childlike, but the flustered man didn't seem to appreciate the humor.
"Your ticket, ma'am," he said, trying to stay professional with a polite bow and a strained smile.
With that same easy smile, Mom pulled three crisp tickets from her pocket. They were so pristine they looked ironed — no creases, no smudges. I briefly wondered if she'd used magic to keep them that way. But no, that would be too petty for her, and besides, I'd have noticed if she had.
"Here you go," she handed them over with an effortless grace, as though she hadn't just thrown the poor guy off his game.
The conductor, probably trying to steady his nerves, started reading the tickets aloud. "Car four, row one, seats A, B, and C."
He glanced at the numbers on our seats, everything in order. With a visible sigh of relief, he tore off the stubs and handed them back.
"Enjoy your trip, ma'am," he bowed again, a little quicker this time, like he couldn't wait to escape.
Mom, still holding the tickets between her index and middle fingers like she was dealing poker cards, gave him a soft smile in return. He made a hasty exit to the next passenger.
"Impressed," Mom might say.
"Frightened," I'd correct.
I yawned lazily, tearing my eyes away from the conductor's retreating figure, and let my gaze wander across the carriage. To my right, triple rows of seats; ahead and behind, double rows. To my left, a huge window made of tempered glass — the kind used on armored vehicles. Apparently, when a giant metal beast is hurtling along at three hundred kilometers per hour, you need special materials. Another little nugget I picked up from the brochure. Not exactly useful, but... it could be worse.
Today was December 23rd, 2004. In about two days, on the night of December 25th, I'd be turning seven. And in honor of this "momentous" occasion, Mom, my sister, and I were on our way to Kyoto. Say what you will about Mikoto Oreki and her cynical nature — she made sure her kids lived a pretty good life. Even if it looked a bit... unconventional at times. Especially when it came to her unique views on birthdays.
Still, I was just glad to be getting out of Kuoh. Not that I was sick of my hometown or anything, but hey, if you get the chance to travel across Japan, why not? Plus, this was my first real trip. The two beach outings we took don't count. Those didn't even involve an overnight stay. But this time? We were heading to the cultural heart of Japan itself — Kyoto. And we'd be there for ten days.
And the cherry on top? It was my first time riding the Shinkansen. So many "firsts" today… let's keep it clean, though.
Anyway, Shinkansen. Even the word sounds powerful. It's pretty incredible how a train can be both eerily quiet and ridiculously fast — like a giant snake cutting through the air. And riding one? It's all about comfort, speed, and cutting-edge technology — the embodiment of modern Japan in a nutshell.
I smirked, remembering a random fact I'd read in one of those brochures: when traveling from Tokyo to Kyoto, the first car of the Shinkansen is actually at the back. It's because the car numbers start from whichever end is closer to Tokyo.
Skeletor will be back next time with more disturbing facts!
A random thought flashed through my mind. Don't ask why — sometimes, when your brain or in my case, my divided mind running parallel thought processes is juggling several things at once, weird stuff like that just slips in.
I shook my head slightly, trying to push away the unnecessary distractions. My gaze returned to the window just in time to catch another Shinkansen zooming by in the opposite direction, heading towards Tokyo. It sped past so quickly it blurred for a second, until my eyes adjusted to its insane velocity.
The Tokyo-Kyoto train vibrated ever so slightly.
Realizing I could actually make out some of the passengers in that blur of a passing train, I suddenly remembered the "Achievement System". The moment that thought crossed my mind, two semi-transparent screens appeared in front of me. My eyes immediately locked onto the one on the right.
Name: Houtarou Oreki
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Attributes:
Strength: F
Endurance: F
Agility: F
Magic Power: E (-)
Luck: A
Skills:
Body Control (E): Basic mastery over bodily functions: control over body temperature, energy consumption, breathing, accelerated recovery, and heightened senses.
Kukishin-ryu (E): Eastern martial art highly suited for real combat.
Magic:
Thought Acceleration (D): Mental processing is significantly sped up.
Memory Partitio (E): Allows for three rooms with first-order tetration, enabling twenty-seven simultaneous thought processes.
Non-systemicic Abilities:
Breathing and Walking [Incomplete] (D): Incomplete legendary technique. Enhances physical strength, agility, endurance, magical power, and deepens the connection with nature.
Pure Eyes — Jogan (C): Pure Eyes reveal things that should remain unseen.
It was looking much better now — no more dashes next to my attributes, and the list of skills and non-systemic abilities had been updated with some new entries. I couldn't help but wonder just how far I could push this.
Speaking of non-systemic abilities, from what I've gathered, this category includes everything that doesn't fit neatly into the other two. Take "Breathing and Walking," for example — it's both a skill you can train, a talent some are born with, and a full-fledged magic that influences the world around you. In other words, it's a hybrid, blending different aspects that defy clear classification.
"Pure Eyes," on the other hand, are more straightforward. It's not something you can develop through training. Sure, you could argue that "Jogan" is a type of magic, but unlike your typical magical techniques, my eyes are a mutation — one with magical properties, yes, but still a mutation. So, it made sense for "Pure Eyes" to be listed under non-systemic abilities.
What really intrigued me, though, was how all my abilities seemed to feed off each other. This was especially clear when I looked at "Body Control," "Kukishin-ryu," and "Breathing and Walking." Whenever I practiced "Breathing and Walking," it naturally improved my "Body Control" and "Kukishin-ryu." Training in "Kukishin-ryu" boosted "Body Control," and improving my "Body Control" made me better at "Breathing and Walking." It was this tight-knit feedback loop, where working on one skill pushed the others forward.
For instance, "Body Control" — something I hadn't really focused on — had still reached rank E, which, in turn, made "Breathing and Walking" easier to use. It was like every part of my training reinforced the others, forming a continuous chain of interconnected improvements.
"What's on your mind?" a voice suddenly broke through my thoughts, snapping me out of my musings. I turned to see Tomoe watching me with a light smile, that familiar glint of curiosity in her eyes.