UPDATE TERBARU

Poison Mushroom Talks to Father

The sound of the door opening echoed from the first floor.

It was followed by the sound of someone climbing the stairs. Each footfall was heavy and powerful—thump, thump. Before long, a short yet heavily bearded middle-aged man entered the workshop. This was the prosthetic artisan—and Busutake’s father.

"Welcome home, Father," Busutake said.

"Was Yuuki-san doing well?"

"............"

The artisan let his mouth hang agape for a moment before answering.

"How the hell do you know about that?"

"Because I was in the same game as her."

"You should've told me beforehand..."

Busutake had been left in charge of the mansion by the artisan while he was away. He had apparently been out on a business trip to attend to a regular client.

Busutake had known that the regular client was likely Yuuki. Until just recently, Busutake had been competing in the games herself, and she had seen Yuuki on the same stage in critical condition.

"Well, for the time being, she's going to pull through," the artisan said, sitting in a nearby chair and setting his luggage on the floor.

"She was torn to shreds, but her life isn't in danger. Though it's doubtful whether she can continue as a player."

"You're going to give her prosthetics, right? Already."

"There’s no other choice... She was tormented so relentlessly that many of her parts were beyond repair."

In other words, she would have a body of full-body prosthetics, just like Busutake. Unable to contain her joy at gaining another "comrade," Busutake’s face twisted into a smirk.

"Hey, why don't you leave her to me?" she asked, hiding her mouth behind both hands. "I won't just supplement her body. I can make her the strongest. If it's me."

"What 'strongest'? You’re a player yourself, so you should know—being the strongest is unnecessary. The 'Game' is a system where the bottom thirty percent are culled, so being just good enough is plenty."

The artisan looked Busutake over from head to toe.

"Are you still messing around with your own body even now?"

"Yeah. Lately, I've been wanting to give my blood vessels some redundancy," Busutake answered, stroking her arm with her other hand. "I mean, aren't blood vessels so fragile? There are too many spots where a single failure becomes fatal. Look, bypass surgeries exist in the world, right? I was thinking I could apply that concept to make things work better..."

"Stop, stop. I don't want to hear it."

Leaning his weight against the back of the chair, the artisan looked up at the ceiling.

Well, that's natural parental concern, I suppose, Busutake thought. If some parents hated their children getting piercings or tattoos, then talk of creating useless bypasses for one's blood vessels would surely sound macabre.

"Don't worry. I'll do it with safety in mind," Busutake said.

"Don't worry, you say... Of course I'm going to worry," the artisan replied, still staring upward. From Busutake's perspective, only his chin was visible.

"Listen. What you create is, so to speak, a thoroughbred. They shine brilliantly for a fleeting moment, but once that's over, it's the end. That doesn't do the player any favors."

"You're so rigid, Father."

"That 'Eisei' person ended up dying in the end too, didn't they? Learn something from that."

She had no defense when Eisei was brought up. They had met a while back, and since Eisei had seemed to want a full-body prosthetic overhaul, she had obliged—but it seemed Eisei had perished.

"Regardless, I'm not leaving Yuuki to you," the artisan said. "If you're that insistent, then kill me. If you do, she'll have no choice but to rely on you. It should be an easy thing to do, shouldn't it? At the hands of the 'strongest' person."

"I can't do that. Stop joking around."

Busutake gave a bashful smile.