The next few days were relatively quiet.
After school, Ren Kuroda spent time training with Ran Mouri. Occasionally, Shinichi would drag him along to hit some balls at the tennis club, but most of his focus was on the system's tasks.
[Task: Acquire 1 billion yen in stolen funds. Current progress: 0]
Ren already had a plan for completing it: Masami Hirota.
In the anime, she was planning a bank heist and would get her hands on a billion yen. All Ren had to do was intercept that money when the time came, and the task would be complete.
Originally, he had wanted to handle it himself, but the bank's working hours conflicted with his classes. By the time he finished school, the bank would already be closed.
No choice—he'd have to rely on a detective to help track her down. With the two key pieces of information—"Masami Hirota" and "bank employee"—finding her shouldn't be too difficult.
The problem now was… he didn't know exactly when she would act. Naturally, that made him a little anxious.
Ren glanced at his personal panel, eyes scanning the dense array of skills. He sighed.
"Once you get stronger, you can't help but want to do something… Looks like I really am being influenced by the system."
He had thought he could resist the temptations of the bandit system—take the candy-coated bait and toss the bullets back. But reality had other plans.
Once you have the ability, how could you endure idleness?
It was like having money—you might try to maintain your old spending habits, but deep down, the urge to do more is impossible to suppress.
Especially when he already knew how the anime plot would unfold. If he did nothing, his mind would race.
Before his transmigration, the anime plot unfolded in a certain way.After he transmigrated, it still unfolded in the same way.
Wouldn't that make his whole journey pointless?
Thinking this through, Ren adjusted his principles a little.
It was 11:00 PM.
"Phew… careful on the road," Masami Hirota murmured, waving goodbye to her coworkers outside the izakaya before heading back to her apartment.
The cold night air sobered her slightly. She let out a soft sigh.
Tonight, she hadn't been able to get any useful information again. At this rate… when would she even be able to rob a bank? How long until she could pull together a billion yen?
Exhausted and frustrated, she walked over twenty minutes to her apartment. She slipped off her shoes and headed into the living room.
Without even turning on the light, she collapsed onto the sofa, letting herself zone out.
Work was draining enough. On top of that, she had to spy on armored car movements and deal with her coworkers' endless annoyances.
"Maybe I should give up," she murmured, thinking of backing out.
"After all, I'm just an ordinary person…"
"Before this… I was a law-abiding, model citizen."
"Suddenly, they want me to get a billion yen? That's just… cruel."
"…Ah. They really are making things impossible. They don't want me leaving with my sister."
Masami's voice trailed off in despair, and she slumped deeper into the sofa.
Then, suddenly, a voice echoed from the living room:
"You think it's hard because you picked the wrong path!"
"I'm… what other option do I have besides robbing a bank? How am I supposed to get a billion yen quickly?" she asked, exasperated. "I'm just an ordinary person—not smart like my sister."
"The bank has strong security. Of course, robbing it is difficult! But if you change your perspective… rob some gangs, some criminals. That'd be much easier," the voice suggested.
Masami scoffed. "Rob them? I'd be dead before I even got close!"
She opened her mouth to respond, but then realized something was off.
Wait… I live alone. Who am I talking to?
Oh no… I must be losing my mind from work stress.
Just as she doubted her sanity, the voice spoke again:
"It's fine. I can help you. Taking down criminals is my specialty."
Her heart skipped a beat. This time she realized—she wasn't hallucinating. There was another person in the room.
Quickly, Masami sat up and scanned the darkness, her voice tense: "Who… who are you?"
A sigh came from the shadows, tinged with mild exasperation.
"Don't look around. I'm sitting right next to you. Your night vision isn't great… just turn on the light."
Masami hesitated. But if this person had intended to hurt her, wouldn't they have acted already instead of talking? Taking a deep breath, she got up and switched on the living room light.
Click.
The light revealed a man wearing a red mask that covered half his face, sitting calmly on the sofa. In his hand rested an MP9 submachine gun.
Masami's heart sank completely. Any thought of resistance vanished instantly.
"Um… excuse me… you are?" she asked cautiously.
"Call me Azu," Ren replied, pointing to the empty spot beside him. "Sit."
"I… I'll just stand," Masami said, forcing a professional smile as she waved him off.
"What brings you here, Mr. Azu?" she asked nervously.
Ren leaned back slightly. "What if I told you I came to help you… would you believe me?"
Masami hesitated, then gave a small nod. Clearly, she didn't trust him—but fear forced her to give a perfunctory agreement.
Ren saw right through her.
And he understood. If he walked into someone's apartment one day, masked and carrying a gun, claiming he'd come to help, he probably wouldn't be trusted either.
Still, he couldn't waste time convincing her otherwise. There was no other connection between them.
A normal person wouldn't believe him, so why bother explaining?
Sometimes, it's better to act first, question later.
As the old saying goes: "Do good without asking for the outcome."
If you can help someone, it doesn't matter how you do it.