Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 518 - 516

Outside the door, Ayaka crouched on the ground, clearly hearing the conversation inside through the thin door panel.

She was somewhat surprised. Her sister was merely dating, and it had already escalated to meeting the parents...

Well, it couldn’t really be called meeting the parents; it was more like meeting the boyfriend’s sister.

Was her sister’s boyfriend’s surname Morimoto?

The other party seemed quite satisfied with Iroha, even taking the initiative to buy her clothes and get manicures together.

My foolish sister is actually being swayed by such small gestures, Ayaka sighed deeply to herself. High school girls these days are really so liberal.

If it were back in her day... Ayaka pondered her own high school days.

She fell silent again.

In her student days, she was a complete bookworm, avoiding contact with other students and focusing solely on her studies, believing that as long as she studied hard, her future would change.

In the end, she did become different from her classmates, evolving into a shut-in novelist.

The more Ayaka thought about it, the more bitter she felt. She chose not to listen any longer and stood up, walking toward the sofa.

Old, single, unwanted—a series of words flashed through her mind, triggering dark thoughts. She might as well sabotage her sister’s relationship with her boyfriend.

"Ugh." Ayaka let out a long sigh. Had she really become so cynical?

She decided to take out the twenty-centimeter treasure she had carefully prepared from the drawer to properly relieve her pent-up emotions that night.

When she eventually met her sister’s boyfriend, she must leave the impression of a mature, intellectual woman, not a shut-in.

Oh no!

The thought of meeting an unfamiliar man in the future, even if he was her brother-in-law, made Ayaka abnormally tense. Her palms started to sweat. How should she greet him?

Ayaka began to worry. The boyfriend’s sister had left a good impression on Iroha, and she couldn’t afford to lose to her.

A peculiar desire to compete welled up inside her.

The night was deep, and a cargo ship registered with the Cayman Islands Shipping Company was heading towards the Red Sea.

Its destination was Port Said, Egypt.

Bruno took advantage of the night to clear his mind. Always staying inside the cramped cargo hold had a significant psychological effect.

He stood at the edge of the cargo ship’s railing, facing the sea breeze, the quiet sea under the moonlight reflecting a solitary moon.

Away from the city, the night sky here wasn’t very impressive, perhaps due to the weather, as most of the stars were hidden in the deep blue expanse.

He took a deep breath, his mind on the plan ahead.

Convincing Iwasaki Yizo to test the Smart Armor was only the first step. Reaching Port Said was merely the second.

But the most critical issue was how to get from Port Said to that city.

He didn’t need any intelligence from the KGB. Even by going online, he could find out that after being utterly routed in the initial attack, the responding nations had swiftly deployed fighter jets to bomb that city indiscriminately.

They claimed it was an operation to counter the Resistance.

Looking at the order of the bombing, Mossad really isn’t up to par, Bruno thought.

If they had genuine intelligence, they wouldn’t have resorted to that kind of furious, indiscriminate assault.

In the eyes of outsiders, it might have appeared imposing, but to an insider like Bruno, it was like a blind man swinging a big stick.

It was simply bullying an opponent that lacked fighter jets and missiles.

If the enemy’s firepower had been any stronger, this pathetic performance would have likely gotten them beaten to a pulp.

The KGB would be ashamed to be associated with Mossad; it was utterly disgraceful.

Bruno thought as much but also understood that other countries’ intelligence agencies wouldn’t be easily fooled. The CIA was definitely keeping a constant watch on the situation there.

He had to operate without alerting the CIA.

In fact, according to Bruno’s plan, going directly to Eilat Port and then moving on to their self-proclaimed capital, Jerusalem, would undoubtedly be more efficient.

Decapitation strikes never go out of style.

It was a pity. Those in charge didn’t want a quick resolution but sought to achieve their own objectives through this war.

Even the best tactics are useless if they conflict with strategy.

Bruno turned and walked back to the cabin without greeting the crew members he encountered.

The crew also tacitly pretended not to see him.

This wasn’t the first time the ship had smuggled people for profit, and the crew members couldn’t possibly know his true identity.

Bruno returned to the lowest cargo hold, where among the stacked goods, a man sat quietly.

He was 1.73 meters tall, with features that leaned towards Europe and America. His hands, feet, waist, and head, nearly all of his body, were enveloped in metallic armor, except for thin circuits at the joints adhering to the skin’s surface.

The focus of those circuits was inside the armor at the back of the head, where the most important chip was hidden.

Wearing the Smart Armor, the man appeared to be over 2.6 meters tall, exuding a clumsy yet powerful aesthetic, like an elephant.

Since the Smart Armor was not fully operational and was only maintaining minimal power, the chip didn’t overheat.

Only when the Smart Armor was fully activated could it unleash its terrifying destructive power, enough to make even tanks seem inferior.

However, reaching that state also meant the man’s life would be on a countdown.

Running the Smart Armor at full capacity would cause the chip to overheat due to receiving too much information from the body, leading to irreversible circuit damage.

This immense destructive power was like a final, fleeting burst of life before death.

However, Bruno saw not a hint of confusion or fear in the eyes of the man before him, only determination.

The man looked down at a silver pendant. Noticing Bruno’s arrival, he gently closed it and spoke, "Mr. Bruno, have we arrived?"

Bruno shook his head. "Not so fast. I just stepped out for some air." He then asked, "I believe I told you about this armor’s drawbacks. Are you that eager to sacrifice yourself for your country?"

"No. I simply want revenge on them." The man shook his head, his gaze returning to the pendant, his eyes filled with reminiscence.

He could never forget living in that bustling, crowded city, where the suffocating oppression hadn’t broken him.

A place where the unemployment rate was as high as forty-five percent.

Finding a job was extremely difficult. Countless tunnels spread beneath the city, dug spontaneously by people struggling to maintain a basic livelihood, just to earn enough for a piece of fried chicken.

Even the use of animal labor, the only kind available, was criticized by external animal protection organizations, some even proposing a ban on using animals to transport goods in the city.

Even in such a hopeless environment, Abdullaye Isla initially hadn’t wanted to join the Resistance. He constantly reassured his family that things would get better.

He wanted to work hard and live an honest, stable life.

Such a humble wish was shattered one day.

As if in some cruel joke, a vehicle from outside came barreling through the bustling market, running down his pregnant wife and his mother who was with her, killing them both. His father, who went to confront them, was shot dead.

They received no punishment. The soldiers laughed as they drove out of the city, as if they had merely visited an amusement park, played a little game for their own amusement, and then left.

And indeed, that’s how it was.

Ever since the siege began, the army outside had been constantly provoking them, committing any act they pleased against the people inside the city without fear of punishment.

Because not a single media outlet reported on the situation there.

Even the occasional reports that surfaced would melt away like snowflakes in a fire, disappearing under the financial influence of that country.

Abdullaye, gripping the pendant, whispered, his expression and tone calm, "If they want war, then let us bring them war. Let that flame consume us along with them." Yet, Bruno sensed a torrent of surging hatred from him.

He fell silent, thinking about what his superiors were doing.

The high command seemed to assume that once the insurgents were defeated, they could rest easy. They underestimated the depth of hatred among the people.

People are not machines or data. Simply winning a battle cannot end everything.

But these weren’t matters for him to ponder. His duty was to complete the tasks assigned by his superiors. That’s what an agent should do.

"I’m sorry," Bruno said, then added, "Go to sleep. You’ll get your chance for revenge." He sat back down, choosing to rest. He needed to conserve his energy for what was to come. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

The night passed in silence.

「The next day.」

Morning light bathed a bulky-looking villa, and the alarm clock on the bedside table chimed. A hand reached out from under the covers and swiped the screen.

Stopping the phone’s alarm, amidst a groggy haze, Morimoto Chiyoda felt as tired as if she had just surfaced from a dive.

"Huh," she exhaled.

Her lower back ached; her chest felt stuffy.

She patted Aozawa on the head. "How many times have I told you? I’m not a pillow!"

Her languid voice, tinged with annoyance, was enough to make anyone else feel a bit irritable too.

Aozawa quickly hugged her. "Chitose, good morning! Let’s get some exercise."

The immense threat in his words made Morimoto Chiyoda quickly kick him off the bed. She snapped irritably, "If you’re not going to sleep, then go brush your teeth and wash your face!"

THUD. Aozawa landed on the floor, unfazed. Opening his eyes, he saw the text before him.

Superpower: 100% Lottery.

This seems utterly harmless,

The thought flickered through Aozawa’s mind. He quickly climbed back into bed, saying, "Wake me when breakfast is ready. I want to sleep a bit longer."

"Don’t get my bed dirty," she admonished.

"Chitose, I only want you," Aozawa answered earnestly.

Morimoto Chiyoda rolled her eyes at him and walked out. Her willpower really is a bit weak, she thought. She used to be so strong-willed that her word was law.

It must be because of the holidays, and the effort of persuading Iroha, that’s affecting her resolve. It’s definitely not because she’s lecherous.

Still, she really should exercise some restraint.

Morimoto Chiyoda stretched her back.

She had to distinguish between indulging once and indulging constantly.

Morimoto Chiyoda entered the bathroom and began washing off the white frost from her body.

Given the difficulty of cleaning up last time, she hadn’t let Aozawa practice any calligraphy.

This made her cleanup afterward much easier.

After washing herself, Morimoto Chiyoda dried off with a towel and stepped out to prepare breakfast.