Lall slammed the phone down with a beaming smile. "Another sale closed!" he declared.
The entire office went silent.
Matsuda, his ever-suffering deskmate, adjusted his glasses and gave him a flat stare. "Lall. That was customer support."
Lall blinked. "Oh." He leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "Well, I think I really brightened up their day."
"You told them to 'follow their dreams' and hung up before answering their question."
"Exactly! Motivation is key in life, Matsuda. You wouldn't get it," Lall said, spinning in his chair.
A voice boomed from across the room. "LALL! MY OFFICE. NOW."
Lall winced but kept his grin intact. "Ah, the sweet sound of professional recognition," he muttered, standing up and stretching. "Welp, if I don't return, tell my story. Make it dramatic. A what could have been type story.
"You're getting fired," Matsuda deadpanned.
Lall shot him finger guns as he strutted toward his inevitable doom.
.
.
.
Lall strolled out of the manager's office, hands stuffed in his pockets and his usual grin still hanging on—though slightly wobbly. Behind him, the door clicked shut, trapping whatever soul-crushing disappointment had just taken place inside.
Matsuda didn't even look up from his desk. "How bad was it?"
Lall plopped into his chair, stretching like he had just finished a light jog. "Let's just say my job's on thin ice."
Matsuda glanced at him. "You mean like the ice cube that melts the second you take it out of the freezer?"
"Exactly!" Lall beamed. "Fast, dramatic, and a little sad to watch."
Matsuda sighed. "I don't even know how you're still employed."
"Me neither," Lall admitted cheerfully. "I think they're running an experiment to see how long I'll last before I accidentally sell the entire company."
Before Matsuda could respond, a hand clapped down on Lall's shoulder. Ryo, one of their coworkers, grinned down at him. "Yo, we're grabbing food after work. You in?"
Lall's eyes lit up. "Will someone else be paying?"
Ryo snorted. "If you can guilt-trip Moriyama into it."
Lall gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "I was born for this moment." Lall said his eyes sparkling.
Matsuda groaned. "I swear, if you try to trick him into covering your bill again—"
"Relax, relax," Lall said, waving him off. "I'll order something small. Just a meal, a drink, maybe a side or two…"
Matsuda gave him a look.
"…and a dessert," Lall added. "But that's it."
Ryo laughed. "Come on, let's go before Moriyama realizes what he's gotten himself into."
Lall hopped to his feet, throwing an arm around Matsuda's shoulder. "Ah, Matsuda, my dear, responsible friend. Tonight, we feast!"
Matsuda sighed but followed along. "I knew I should've gone straight home…"
.
.
.
The izakaya was loud, rowdy, and packed with the kind of salarymen who had long since abandoned the idea of moderation. Lall sat at the table with his coworkers, an empty beer mug in his hand and a dozen more stacked beside him. His shirt was loosened at the collar, his tie draped over his shoulders like a war trophy.
And yet, unlike the rest of his office comrades, he was completely sober.
"Alright, listen," Ryo slurred, slamming his mug down. "If I awakened tomorrow, I'd be unstoppable. A real S-rank monster!"
Moriyama, whose soul was visibly leaving his body, groaned. "You'd be D-rank at best, you idiot…"
"Incorrect!" Ryo slammed a fist onto the table, nearly knocking over the soy sauce. "I have the heart of a warrior!"
"You sprained your wrist playing mobile games last week," Lall pointed out.
"I WAS IN THE ZONE, LALL."
Matsuda snorted. "You'd probably get something useless, like the ability to know when your ramen's the perfect temperature."
"That would be amazing and you know it," Lall said, propping his chin on his palm. "No more burned tongues? No more waiting forever? You'd be a hero."
"Buddy, if you awakened, your system would probably be called 'Survival Mode: Uninstallable'," Matsuda muttered.
Ryo groaned. "Shut up, Matsuda."
Lall leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "C'mon, let's entertain the thought. What kinda ability do you think you'd get?"
Ryo straightened, dramatically cracking his knuckles. "Something badass. Fire manipulation, teleportation—"
"Don't forget, the system decides for you," Moriyama cut in, swirling his drink. "And it's not random. It pulls from who you are. Your potential. Your limits."
Lall snapped his fingers. "So if Ryo awakened, his skill would be 'Drunken Fist: Office Edition'?"
Ryo, completely ignoring the exchange, pointed dramatically at the ceiling. "We live in an age of opportunity! If you awaken, you can be anyone! A hunter! A guild leader! A government-licensed Tower raider! You can be a hero!"
Moriyama groaned. "Or you can be a broke E-rank running errands for a real hunter."
Ryo shot him a betrayed look. "Why must you crush my dreams, man?"
Matsuda, barely holding onto consciousness, slammed his hand on the table. "Listen… listen… the problem with the ranking system, right, is that it's total BS."
"I agree!" slurred Ryo, draping himself over the table dramatically. "Some schmuck gets an A-rank just 'cause they were born with fireballs, and I gotta wait 20 years to sit here and get some F-rank BS like... uh- uh enhanced grip strength? What am I gripping?! HUH?!"
Ryo groaned. "Matsuda's right… The whole system's rigged. You either get Awakened naturally and get a rank, or you're stuck as a normal person forever. Unless—" he hiccuped, pointing at Lall with deep, drunken conviction, "—you do that insane Tower Dive stuff."
Moriyama, who had his head down on the table, perked up. "Ughhh, don't talk about the Tower," he mumbled. "That thing's a scam."
Lall's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "A scam?"
Matsuda waved a finger in the air, struggling to focus. "It says you can climb it to gain power, right? That the deeper you go, the stronger you get. But how many actually succeed?"
Ryo slumped forward. "Barely any! You know how many people disappear inside that thing? They say the Tower chooses people. You don't get to just waltz in and power up like it's an RPG."
Lall nodded along, fully entertained. "So what you're saying is… if I walked into the Tower right now, I'd probably die?"
Matsuda jabbed a finger at him. "Immediately."
Ryo snorted. "Or worse—you survive and end up like those freaks in the guilds."
"Oi, guilds aren't that bad," Moriyama slurred, waving his beer. "They're just… aggressive."
"Aggressive?" Matsuda scoffed. "They're power-hungry psychos! The high-rank ones basically own the city. You think the government runs things? Ha! It's guild leaders pulling the strings."
"Yeah, yeah," Ryo groaned. "If you don't join a guild, you're screwed. But if you do join, you gotta live under their rules. No freedom. Just contracts and missions."
Ryo groaned as he looked at Lall.
"Lall… why are you still sober? You drank, like… gallons…"
Lall downed the rest of his beer in one go, smacking the mug on the table with an innocent smile. "Dunno! Guess I'm built different."
Matsuda stared at him, glassy-eyed. "I hate you."
Lall slung an arm around his shoulders. "Awww, buddy. I love you too."
The night dragged on, and the drunken rambling shifted to something Lall actually found interesting—hunters.
"I'm just saying," Ryo slurred, waving his empty mug around, "nobody, nobody fights like the White Phantom. That guy's movement is insane. You ever see him in a raid? He moves like the wind! Blink, and boom! The monster's already dead."
Moriyama scoffed, wobbling in his seat. "White Phantom? Overrated. He's all speed, no power. If we're talking raw strength, Mountain Crusher is the GOAT. One punch—one!—and he flattens everything. That's a real hunter."
Matsuda, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly raised his head, adjusting his glasses with a smug look. "You're all so basic. Real connoisseurs of hunter combat know that Silent Orchid is the best."
Ryo groaned. "Oh god, here we go…"
"Silent Orchid fights with grace, with precision," Matsuda continued, ignoring the groans. "She doesn't just swing wildly or zip around like a cracked-out rabbit. Every move is calculated. That's what separates her from those meatheads you worship."
Lall grinned, resting his chin on his palm. "Wow, I had no idea you were such a fangirl, Matsuda."
Matsuda's eye twitched. "It's called appreciating technique."
"Uh-huh."
"What about you, Lall?" Ryo asked, his head barely staying upright. "You got a favorite?"
Lall leaned back, thinking. "I dunno, man. They're all kinda cool. But if I had to pick… probably Ebon Fang."
The table fell silent. Even the drunkest of them seemed to sober up slightly.
"…Ebon Fang?" Matsuda asked, his voice a little cautious.
Lall nodded, grinning. "Yeah, dude's mysterious. No one knows what his real rank is, no one's ever seen his face, and yet he's taken down some of the craziest monsters out there. Plus, his style is so cool. That whole 'strike from the shadows' vibe? Badass."
Ryo shivered. "Man, Ebon Fang creeps me out. You never see him coming. Some people don't even believe he's real."
Moriyama took another gulp of beer, shaking his head. "Nah, he's real. I know a guy who swears his cousin saw him in action once. Said he took out an entire S-rank dungeon boss alone before anyone even realized what was happening."
Lall's grin widened. "See? That's so cool."
Matsuda sighed, rubbing his temples. "You would like the most questionable hunter out there."
Lall shrugged. "What can I say? I admire efficiency."
Ryo pointed at him weakly. "You'd die in two seconds if you ever met him."
Lall just chuckled, lifting his glass. "Maybe. Or maybe I'd ask for an autograph."
The conversation continued, shifting from favorite hunters to ridiculous conspiracy theories about hidden guild wars and government cover-ups. As always, Lall was the only one who remained sober, watching his coworkers descend further into drunken nonsense.
.
.
.
.
Lall surveyed his work with the pride of a true artist. Matsuda was slumped over the table, mouth slightly open, a majestic curly mustache drawn right above his upper lip. Ryo had a villainous goatee, Moriyama sported a thick, bushy 'stache, and even some guy from accounting who had accidentally joined their group had an elegant, twirled masterpiece.
Lall nodded solemnly, hands on his hips. "Gentlemen, you've all been upgraded. Don't thank me—thank art."
Lall surveyed his work with the pride of a true artist. Matsuda was slumped over the table, mouth slightly open, a majestic curly mustache drawn right above his upper lip. Ryo had a villainous goatee, Moriyama sported a thick, bushy 'stache, and even some guy from accounting who had accidentally joined their group had an elegant, twirled masterpiece.
Lall nodded solemnly, hands on his hips. "Gentlemen, you've all been upgraded. Don't thank me—thank art."
Let Operation: Lall, the Uber Driver begin.
Lall took Moriyama's keys (and 2000 yen) and started driving each person to their home.
Phase 1: Ryo – The Deadweight
Lall reached Ryo's house and carried him out the car. Lall hoisted Ryo's arm over his shoulder, and immediately regretted it. "Holy—dude, what are you eating? Bricks?"
Ryo just grunted.
"Alright, alright, let's get you home before your neighbors find you passed out in the hallway again."
Ryo mumbled something that sounded like "T'wasn't my fault… the floor was cozy…
When they reached Ryo's apartment, he fished through his pockets, found his keys, and opened the door.
He shoved Ryo inside, gave him a salute, and shut the door behind him. "One down, two to go."
Phase 2: Matsuda – The Complainer
Matsuda was more awake than Ryo, which meant he was also more annoying.
"I can walk, you know," he grumbled, leaning against Lall as they shuffled up his apartment complex stairs
"Oh, totally. That's why you almost fell down the stairs three times."
Matsuda groaned, adjusting his glasses—which now had a mustache drawn on them, too. "I hate you."
"No, you don't. You love me. I bring chaos and laughter into your boring, number-filled life."
Matsuda didn't respond, which Lall took as total agreement.
When they reached Matsuda's apartment, Lall kicked the door open dramatically and gestured inside. "Sir, your castle."
Matsuda gave him a flat look before wobbling inside. Before shutting the door, he turned back. "…Thanks."
Lall smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Sweet dreams, Mustache-kun."
The door slammed in his face.
Phase 3: Moriyama – The Emotional One
Moriyama had spent the last ten minutes crying about his ex.
"She—sob—she always said I had—hic—cold hands, but I was just born this way!"
Lall patted his back, nodding along. "Bro, that's tragic. I mean, what, did she expect you to heat your hands with pure willpower?"
"Right?!" Moriyama wailed.
They stopped in front of his apartment. "Alright, here we are, buddy."
Moriyama clung to his shirt. "Y-You're such a good friend, Lall. I don't tell you that enough."
Lall gently pried him off and laid one hand on his shoulder. "That's because you don't like me when you're sober."
Moriyama sniffled. "That's not true…"
"Yes, it is."
"…Yeah, it is."
.
.
.
.
Lall was curled up on his worn-out couch, dressed in his ultimate comfort attire—a blue shark onesie, complete with fins. He clutched a Lara Croft body pillow like his life depended on it, his face twisted in sheer horror as he watched history unfold before his very eyes.
On the TV screen, the once-untouchable beacon of hustle, loyalty, and respect—John Cena—stood in the ring, smirking. Not his usual, cheerful, never-give-up smirk. No. This was different. This was villainous.
The crowd was booming with mixed reactions. Cheers. Screams. Betrayal.
Lall's fingers dug into Lara's fabric. "No. No, no, no, this isn't real. This is a dream. A nightmare. Cena—Big Match John—would never do this to me."
But then it happened.
Cena grabbed the mic. The arena fell silent.
And then—
"You people were never good enough for me."
Lall gasped so hard he nearly inhaled his own tongue.
His grip on the pillow tightened. "Lara, tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me this isn't real." He shook her slightly, eyes darting between her stitched expression and the screen.
Cena continued, pacing in the ring, cutting a promo so cold, so unforgivable, that Lall actually felt like he was witnessing the death of an era.
The live crowd booed. Kids in the audience looked like they were about to cry. Grown men clutched their hearts. The commentary team was losing their minds.
Lall's mouth trembled. "He was supposed to be the hero…" His voice cracked. "I—I looked up to him, Lara. He told me to never give up."
A single tear threatened to fall.
And then—Cena spat on his old merch.
Lall screamed.
He shot up from the couch, nearly tripping over his blanket as he stumbled back. His onesie hood flopped over his eyes, but he shoved it back up, pacing his apartment like a man whose entire worldview had just shattered.
"No. No, I refuse to accept this. There has to be a reason. There has to be a reason!" He turned back to the screen. "JOHN. BABY. TALK TO ME. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS."
The screen didn't answer.
Lall dramatically collapsed onto the couch, face-down in the pillow. "This is worse than that time I failed amy driving test because I technically ran over a traffic cone."
A long silence.
Then, muffled into Lara's soft embrace—
"…Still kinda badass, though."
Lall's eyes fluttered shut as the glow of the TV cast a flickering light across his face. His onesie felt extra cozy, the Lara Croft pillow tucked perfectly under his arm. Sleep was creeping in, soft and heavy, pulling him under—
DING!
A soft chime rang in his ears. His eyelids cracked open just enough to see a faint blue glow hovering in front of him.
[Hunter: Jubei has failed the tutorial test.]
Lall squinted. His brain, running at one chip per hour processing speed, took a solid five seconds to even register the words.
"...Huh."
He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and gave the glowing text a lazy thumbs-up. "Tough luck, dude. But hey, it's just the tutorial—you'll pass next time."
And with that, he rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
The message flickered. Then disappeared.
Leaving the tower was the best thing that could've happened to him.