"Listen up, folks. It's simple." Saya's loud voice easily drew everyone's attention. Tysone had just come back when he stumbled upon her peddling like some obnoxious seller. "¥3000 for 15 minutes. You get to smash boring stuff. Yes, that's all you get. ¥7000 for half an hour; and we'll throw in some more toys for you to play with. If you want a more extended session with expensive items to break, the price range is anywhere from ¥15000 to ¥30000. We'll do a small discount if you come with a large group."
Tysone knew what he was going to do tomorrow. Hire some goddamn people!
Regardless, instead of driving them away, the customers were fired up. Ah, gotta love anime logic. Maybe being tiny and cute helped.
He walked behind Saya and patted her shoulder.
"How was it, little missus? Did you get a feel for being a saleswoman?"
She smirked. The smug little imp. "I can say with absolute certainty that I'm better at this than you."
"Oh, burn."
Tysone didn't care.
He had a business to run. "So, anyone ready for a taste of the Rage Room?" The crowd obediently thinned into a perfect queue. Gotta love the Japanese. If this were the States, a brawl would already be in full swing between a blue-haired Karen wielding her pumpkin spice latte like a weapon and some guy named Kyle in a tank top, clutching a Monster energy drink. And someone would definitely already be filming it for TikTok.
He missed some of the more modern amenities, but damn, it was nice being alive in a period where people still understood basic queue etiquette. No one was giving a monologue about their 'rights' while blocking the entire line, and there wasn't a single air horn-blaring influencer trying to turn a rage session into their latest 'emotional journey' vlog.
He let out a breath of relief, watching a pair of salarymen in pristine suits politely pass each other baseball bats as if they were sharing a bowl of miso soup. Everyone waited their turns patiently, and it was quite a sight watching those prim and proper salarymen go batshit crazy and destroy what they probably saw as the embodiment of all of their life problems.
Tysone had turned destroying furniture into an art. A therapy session. An easy way to let loose without causing too much trouble for yourself.
It was obvious from an observer's viewpoint. Everyone came back out sweaty and relieved. Hmm. That was probably a wrong word choice.
Whatever.
Mai stood by his side the whole time, silently watching the destruction, and making Tysone question what exactly was going on in her mind.
Regardless, he mentally highlighted his need for more personnel. It was hell managing so many people with just the two of them. But they somehow pulled through.
By the end of the day, his Rage Room had seen almost 50 visitors. Tysone had gotten a lot of positive feedback. The clean-up that awaited them was going to be a huge pain in the ass, but when they had to do the daily cash out, a surge of unlimited energy, like viagra, seemed to run through his veins.
¥300.000.
Roughly, 2k USD. Yes, it was not a staggering amount of money by any means, but the Rage Room was still a novel idea, so anything, everything that exceeded the zero was welcomed with open arms.
Saya slumped over the counter as Tysone tallied up their earnings for the day.
"Good job, Saya. Can't do without your cute face. You definitely help boost attendance."
Saya turned to regard him with tired eyes. "Thanks for the empty flattery. How many more times must you keep calling me cute before you just shut up?" She groaned.
A sly grin stole its way over Tysone's face.
Saya did a double take. "W-why are you smiling? Stop that." She shrunk away.
"Fine." He rolled his eyes at her dramatic response.
Mai, unexpectedly, didn't leave yet. She sat next to Tysone, curiously watching him scribble away on a piece of paper. He glanced at her. "Why are you still here? Not that I mind it."
Saya also turned to look at Mai.
Mai shrugged. "I'd like to invest in this idea of yours."
"...huh?" Both Saya and Tysone could only reply stupidly.
Her smile became cryptic as if she were playing around with them. "I don't know. I like the idea. I feel like this could help many people cope with their syndrome."
Tysone knew what she was getting at, though Saya remained clueless. "It's not a perfect solution, and that kind of problem isn't something you can cure by punching a wall and shattering glass. It's more of a temporary relief. You'll have to come back when it all builds up again."
She shrugged again. "Perhaps, but there's no harm trying, or lending a hand. Maybe it will work, maybe not, but I do feel better after using it."
"Oh, right. You did look quite hot and bothered when you came out." Tysone chuckled, turning his eyes back on the paper.
He received a harsh glare from both girls.
Oh, he knew he said something naughty naughty, but whilst he had to refrain himself from Saya, Mai—unfortunately—didn't have such protection. Blame the legal system or whatever.
He rubbed his hands like a mosquito when he finished stacking up the yen notes in an envelope. 'This is where my rich tycoon arc begins!'
Right when he thought he'd get some peace of mind, Saya spoke up, loudly.
"... no."
Tysone and Mai looked up at her.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no! We don't need your money or help." Saya stood up, hands on her waist. "Who do you think you are to waltz out of nowhere and try to get involved in what is clearly our fruits of labor? We worked hard for this! Now you just want to be part of it? What, you think we lack the funds to keep this running?"
"I-I didn't say that!" Mai's eyes widened as she, predictably, bit back. "Why the hell are you saying this, I just wanted to..."
"Just wanted to intrude." Saya didn't lose her momentum. "What? You came out of nowhere. And now, just cause you've got your little celebrity status that's worth shit at the moment, you think you can be part of our team and enjoy our success?" She laughed. "So, yeah, sorry (totally not sorry) for being kind of pissed off at you."
Mai looked surprised, and offended. She didn't lose her shit, though. "You seriously think I'd what? Leech off you two? Take credit for your work?" Her voice was cool, with just a hint of steel, the kind she usually reserved for dealing with unwanted paparazzi or nosy fans.
Saya crossed her arms, an indignant pout forming on her face. "Well, what else would it be? You waltz in here like some savior, acting like you know everything. We don't need some superstar actress to make us look legit. We can manage this on our own."
Tysone sighed, massaging his temples. He knew Saya had a tendency to be, well, passionate, especially when it came to defending her turf. But he hadn't expected this level of fire over something as trivial as a possible investment. "Alright, you two…" He began, trying to defuse the situation, "Let's just chill out, okay? Mai was just offering to help."
"Help? With what, exactly?" Saya snapped, her eyes locked on Mai's. "The cleaning? The advertising? We've got that covered. We're not desperate for some 'celebrity endorsement.'"
The argument devolved into a round of back and forth squabbling that reminded him of old-fashioned old aunties in his family back on Earth, arguing over a slab of barbeque at a Christmas party.
In other words, a boring and irritating scenario that he would have no problem ignoring if his work partner and friend weren't the two main participants.
Mai was about to snap back but Tysone rose. "That's enough." His voice was a bit louder than usual, and coupled with his height, he immediately commanded their attention. "It's been a busy day. I'm tired. I'm sure you're tired too, Saya. And you as well, Mai, since you went crazy in there. The only thing I want right is to hit the bed and pass out for 4 hours. Yes, 4 goddamn hours before I've got to be up and about or I'll never get shit done. So, what should we do about this?"
Saya and Mai looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them spoke up.
"Saya, please understand that Mai's help could be invaluable. Is it crucial? Not to the point where we can't survive without it, but it could make things easier. A lot easier. And honestly? I think you'd enjoy working with her, if you'd just… try." He shot her a meaningful look, the kind that always seemed to cut through Saya's stubbornness, though she hated to admit it.
Author Note: More chapters on P@treon.com/LordCampione. [*Special offer going on right now 50% 0ff till December 28* ]