A tall but lanky young man walked into a relatively populated supermarket located near the biggest church in the city. He was wearing a gray long sleeve s.h.i.+rt which hung loosely from his shoulders, a pair of blue fitting denim, and a pair of slightly worn out rubber shoes. His eyes lacked enthusiasm and l.u.s.ter on it. Paired with how the edges of his lips were pulled downwards as he looked around and unwillingly marched towards the vegetable stand, everyone looking at him could easily guess that he was a son forced by his mother to buy the groceries.

Since the guy was quite a looker, not few turned their heads over their shoulders to glance at his direction. Of course, not many stayed their eyes at him since he was not the drop-dead handsome kind yet. But those who continue looking, mostly the mothers whose hobby was to scan every place for any future husband material for their daughters, stared at him in amazement due to his practiced and accurate picking of fresh and high-quality fruit and vegetable. A line in their mental note was checked.

'This one must know how to cook! A nice boyfriend material for my girl!'

Due to this, some from this bunch wanted to go over and strike a conversation with him so they could get to know him. Regretfully, they realized that them doing would just be too weird, especially since the eye-candy guy was sporting an annoyed look when he swept his glance around and noticed some eyes suspiciously checking him out.

"350 credits. Sir, do you have any discount card that you want to use in this purchase?" kindly asked the female cas.h.i.+er dressed in her yellow supermarket uniform when the young man went to the counter to pay.

While pulling up a few bills from his wallet, he looked straight into the woman's eyes then shook his head. After handing his payment to the cas.h.i.+er who smiled sweetly at him, he fetched the bag of goods that he bought. He was ready to go when the female cas.h.i.+er's voice rang again.

"Sir, here's your receipt."

Realizing he nearly missed out the receipt which his mom would surely ask from him once he returns, his eyes widened a bit. Grateful, he reached out to the piece of paper in her hand and said, "Thanks."

Another sweet smile came from the woman. Though a bit weirded out, the young man did not give her action much thought. After nodding, he turned his head away and walked towards the exit. It was only due to the inhabitant in his brain telling him that a number had been magically written at the back of the paper that he learned why he felt odd about that female cas.h.i.+er who was looking at him like that. A frown appeared on his face again, this time, worse than when he came in. The guard stationed at the exit stared at him in confusion, probably wondering why this guy looked as though someone owed him money.

The one acting and speaking like a shady salesman or promoter to him was precisely that annoying immigrant inside his head. It continued blabbering, like always. Of course, it received no reply from its gloomy-faced host.

The young man simply brought out his phone and unlocked it. He then tapped the map icon on the home screen and checked where he was again. As someone new to this city, he was still finding it hard to navigate the place without relying on the map. As he didn't want to undergo the ha.s.sle of stopping at every street or corner to ask a guard or anyone there for direction, he forced himself to memorize the places and routes. Unfortunately, this proved to be a challenge because he was the type to only memorize a place at his third or fourth time there.

Sighing, he went to where he parked his bike then put the bag of groceries in the basket in front. Shortly after, with his hands on the handlebar, he led the bike out of the parking s.p.a.ce.

When he hopped onto the seat and was about to cycle it away, he heard the system speaking to him again,

The young man remained quiet, acting as though he heard nothing speaking in his mind. However deep inside, he was quite annoyed, almost tempted to comment on how desperate it was to make him do anything remotely immoral or bad.

It didn't offer to tell him the directions to this supermarket. Now, it was okay giving him directions to a random stall so he could buy a pack of cigarettes.

As expected, it was an ent.i.ty which should be always guarded against.

Didn't it hear him when he said to his father that he wouldn't buy him any because smoking is bad for health?

Just what the heck was this?

It was inside his head, how come it couldn't remember?

Shaking his head inwardly, he began pedaling his bike towards the road leading to his new home.

The system was truly something which he probably wouldn't be able to get along with for life. Even if it kept saying that it was already the most behaved out of its b.a.s.t.a.r.d brethren.

'Better ignore it... Anyway, I'm in a new city already. And I want to live a new, better life here. If I continue concerning myself with this little devil, I might go crazy.'

Five minutes later.

Remembering that his mother asked him to buy some cough medicine for his father, Chris stopped and got off his tall bicycle when he pa.s.sed by a pharmacy. He parked it at the side then strode towards the gla.s.s door.

After pus.h.i.+ng it open, he stepped into the place which almost sparkled from cleanliness. The white interior and the neat arrangement of pill bottles, boxes, and other stuff in the shelves and racks were easy to the eyes. The airconditioning made it seem a tidy and high-quality place. The place was quiet because he was the only customer around, and this was actually to his liking because he was not very comfortable in the presence of many people. As he walked closer to the counter, he had just noted the place in his mind as a good pharmacy when the smell of something similar to alcohol made his nose scrunch up.

It was not the smell of alcohol actually, but disinfectant. A kind of unlikable smell for him.

"h.e.l.lo," greeted the kind-looking pharmacist standing with a smile next to a cabinet on the left. The middle-aged woman was swiftly stocking up boxes labeled with 'Durex' there when she asked, "How may I help you?"

Feeling as if his eyes got burned by that term, he looked away from that side before replying, "Cough medicine, please."

"Alright. Wait a moment. I'll get some for you. How many by the way? And what dosage and form?"

Chris thought for three seconds, trying to recall what his Dad usually takes. After that, he said, "500, tablets. Preferably a brand one."

"Your father is allergic to generic equivalents?" asked the pharmacist who was now rummaging through another shelf.

As he watched her pulled up a box from there and picked up a blister pack, he shook his head. He didn't know why this pharmacist was asking this kind of question but it was weird for him. He would have ignored her if not for her motherly smiles. As they said, it was hard to be a sn.o.bbish b.a.s.t.a.r.d in front of a smiling face. Also, he could guess that she was most likely bored here and only wanted to chat with someone. This was why Chris made a troubled expression but still answered,

"He's not allergic to those. Just not working as much as the brand. I don't know much. I'm just a son ordered by my parents to run errands for them."

The woman laughed, the wrinkles in her forehead decreasing momentarily. After keying something on the machine in front of her, she put the medication inside a small paper bag together with the receipt. "Here you go, 20 credits."

"Thanks." He perfunctorily answered after handing the payment. No expression was on his face when he marched towards the exit and pushed the gla.s.s door open. He heard the middle-aged female pharmacist say, 'Thanks for coming. May you have a great day,' but he didn't reply or even wave a hand back because his mind was already preoccupied with the thought that finally, he could go home without having to stop by anywhere.

He silently sauntered away and headed towards his bicycle. However, halfway there, his forehead creased and a frown couldn't help but appear on his face again.

It was hard not to, because he saw a girl sobbing on the bench next to where he parked his two-wheeled ride.

Her head was bowed down. Her shoulders couldn't stop trembling. Sometimes her nose was also making sniffing noises, her hands covering her face.

The long-haired woman dressed in a fancy blue dress looked very frail and pitiful as she cried soundlessly next to his bike. This was especially so after he saw some sparkling tears slipping from her hand, dropping to the ground.

No normal man would be able to endure looking at this pitiful sight. The woman was very hard to ignore because as she cried, she seemed like a small wounded furry animal. Chris couldn't help but look around, consequently noticing that in this side of the road, other than him and this girl, no one was around. He sported a troubled expression again because he didn't know whether he should poke his head into this woman's business. As he reached out to his bicycle's handlebar, he felt caught in a dilemma. He was now standing so close to the crying woman, his eyes showing confusion and other complex emotions.

Out of a sudden, the woman wiped the tears from her eyes and removed the hands covering her face. Although only the side of the face was revealed to him, he could see that she was a very beautiful young woman, probably in her late teens or early twenties. The angle he was currently viewing showed him her long eyelashes which seemed to be not fake, and her high nose, which also didn't appear cosmetically magicked. The edge of her eye visible from his side was slightly red, with tears still watering up from there, but there was a unique kind of beauty radiating from her current crying appearance.

This did not change even after the woman's face turned a bit fierce as she tremblingly pulled up a picture from her handbag.

"...J-jerk! Jerk! Jerk!" She said indignantly, holding the picture tightly. Then as if the woman did not notice his presence nearby, she just started to tear it into pieces. Every motion was full of anger and it looked to him that she was imagining the person in the picture as the one she was personally tearing.

Chris smiled wryly, guessing what happened to this rich-looking girl.

'Probably dumped, or cheated on... I quite feel sorry for her...'

'I wonder who's the stupid guy who did this to her.'

The young man did not answer. However, as a normal human, curiosity was also part of his nature so he silently looked forward to what it would find out. Of course, he knew it was a bad manner to pry into someone else's business, and even though a part of him reasoned that it was the system doing the crime, he still didn't feel good about the situation. Hence, after placing the small paper bag in the basket, he began walking over to her while checking his pockets for a handkerchief. Fortunately, there was one in the front left pocket.

Nearby, the woman in front was still venting anger and grievances on the poor picture. A few seconds later, when it got turned into an unrecognizable mess, she pulled up another and also started tearing it into pieces. He almost choked when he saw that there were so many pictures in the bag.

He could only shake his head and tell himself. 'Must be very heart-broken...'

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A second later, the crying voice of the woman resounded and it was still accompanied by the sounds of paper being shredded.

"D-d.a.m.n you! Jerk! Heartless! B-b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I-If I see you again, I'm telling you... *sniffs*... I, I will bring a guy more handsome and r-richer than you and make you realize... *sniffs*... that y-you're never irreplaceable!!"

"You, you s-son.... *sniffs*... of a b*tch!"

"You, you think so highly....*sniffs*... of y-yourself!"

"H-how dare you, how dare you cheat on me!"

"Y-You think...*sniffs*... that you're the only guy on earth? No, no, d-dream on! Y-you're the ugliest! Y-you look like, like a monster! M-monster! Ugly monster!"

And then the woman broke into sobs again. He was about to offer his handkerchief to her when the system suddenly exclaimed in his head and then cheerfully summarized why this woman suddenly appeared in this place, making a scene.

His hand became suspended midair. In front, the girl was still crying and looking so pitiful as ever. However, after hearing the free report, when Chris glanced at her again, his face became very dark, all sympathy and pity suddenly gone. It was her who caused him to speak with the system today.

'...Is it the truth?'

The annoying voice in his mind made some cheering noises first before answering, ecstatic that after three days, he finally responded to it. Shortly after, it found the aura around Chris becoming gloomier.

However, since he was already standing before her, he extended his hand holding the black handkerchief to her.

"Miss, here," he unemotionally said, watching as the woman stiffened and momentarily stopped from crying.

Her lips were slightly parted from the shock which must be due to him suddenly arriving before her. A dumbfounded expression was on her face as she alternately looked at him and the handkerchief. She looked down and checked herself, most probably feeling self-aware or embarra.s.sed at her current state. After three seconds, she began looking at him and the handkerchief in his hand again with hesitation written all over her face. Her actions were hinting that she was currently having a mental debate on whether to accept it or not.

This went for another second or two, and by the time she reluctantly reached out to it, there were already four or five back lines on Chris' forehead.

He then heard her speak in a faintly cracking voice, "T-thank you."

The young man did not reply. So she continued, "And I-I'm sorry for the bother and for letting you see such a sight..."

Before the woman lowered her head again while holding the black piece of clothe, the hint of mischief and joy that flashed in her eyes did not escape Chris' notice. This made him shake his head in disappointment. He wryly said, "You must be happy that I approached you."

The change in the woman's expression had been very quick. From a pitiful facade, it immediately turned into that of a wary one. She was now looking at him as though he had an ulterior motive when he went near her. "W-what the h.e.l.l did you say?"

It was quite admirable that Chris' face did not change when showed a reaction like this. Instead, he even earnestly said,

"I just want to tell you this, but I approach you because your crying appearance reminded me of someone close to me." He paused, looking as if a thought just crossed his mind. Afterward, he continued. "But now that I think about it, maybe I really did something unnecessary, because you surely have a bag of tissue with you."

The beautiful woman blinked at him, bewildered. "I-I don't get what you mean?"

Chris shook his head and turned around, his feet bringing him to his bike. The woman saw him rode on it, slowly pedaling away. However, since she couldn't get his words out of mind, she stood up and started to chase after him.

"Hey, wait. Just what did you mean by that!? You still haven't answered me!"

"Also, how do I return this to you?"

Chris stared at the beautiful but disheveled woman who had appeared by his side. He made sure to evade her when she tried intercepting him through the handlebar with her hands. Then, without stopping his bike, he replied,

"You don't need to."

"And my answer to your first question?"

"I enjoyed your performance. Your acting is good. You almost fooled me, Miss. So take that as your reward."

Right after letting those words out of his mouth, he began pedaling faster so he could get away from there quick. The woman was left there standing with a foolish expression on her pretty but tear-stained face, not budging even when her a.s.sistant came to her side and checked on her.

...

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