Chapter 1: In Short, This System Arrived Too Early

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[Life Turnaround System initializing...]
[Checking game environment... Network detected... Network environment secure...]
[Character: Haruki Kitahara]
[Personal panel: omitted]
[Task auto-matched for you]
[At thirty-five, on an ordinary night, you’re on the train home when you notice a beautiful woman being harassed by a drunk. You realize she’s the star illustrator at your company... You decide to take a chance on the future.]
[Task: Save the star illustrator]
[Reward: A lottery chance to obtain the skills of a renowned artist from history]
...

Kitahara was watching a movie when a panel suddenly popped up before his eyes. Rubbing them, he was fairly sure he wasn’t seeing things.

So, Deep Blue had finally arrived.

On his sixteenth year after transmigrating, on a night as ordinary as it was inexplicably strange, a so-called Life Turnaround System appeared... His feelings were complicated, an odd mixture.

Kitahara reined in his emotions and decided to explore the system’s capabilities.

Three main sections.

Personal attributes panel, task panel, and a shop—but the shop’s interface was still greyed out, probably meaning it was disabled.

So, no pay-to-win.

He opened up his personal attributes—average of five across the board, except for his looks, which were an eight. The rest were all fives.

Apparently, getting into a private high school in Bunkyo ward was solely thanks to his past life’s foundation.

When it came to intelligence, he was just an ordinary person.

Kitahara glanced at the task, but before proceeding, the system’s name caught his attention.

Life Turnaround System?

Why didn’t it come sooner...

Kitahara was a little angry, and not without reason—life’s unpredictability was truly hard to accept.

Winter passed and spring returned. In the blink of an eye, Kitahara was sixteen. Not counting his previous life, it was already a long span, long enough for many precious memories to fade...

And this life had been nothing but tragic—losing both parents as a child, raised by his grandfather, then two winters ago bidding farewell to his last relative. From then on, he was utterly alone in the world.

Looking back on these sixteen years, almost nothing had gone well. With tomorrow and the unexpected both looming, he had managed to get by largely thanks to an optimistic nature—or perhaps just a fear of death—enduring a harsh start by sheer will.

Though by transmigrator standards he was something of a failure, Kitahara still looked to life with hope.

Failure was a constant companion in life; who could be exempt? As long as you’re not dead, not in a coffin, there’s always the chance to succeed.

Back then, Chen Daozi turned twenty yuan into thirty-seven million. Why couldn’t Kitahara become Prime Minister of Japan? With such thoughts, he worked part-time while studying, and eventually got into a prestigious private school.

Now, finally having adapted to this life, the system decided to show up?

What exactly was being turned around?

The frustration simmered in his heart for a long while. Perhaps the system detected his resentment, for a pale blue screen appeared before his eyes.

[At eighteen, you enroll in a good university. After graduation, you follow your passion and join a large publishing house, working overtime until you cough up blood.]
[At twenty-eight, you offend someone with connections over a trivial matter. Your career stalls, and you’re targeted at every turn.]
[At thirty, you sell your parents’ apartment and take on a twenty-year mortgage, just to meet the demands of a high school classmate turned matchmaking prospect. You marry her, but your wife seems not to care for you.]
[At thirty-one, the publishing house declines and you lose your job.]
[At thirty-two, your résumés vanish into the void. You sink into depression, drinking day after day, withdrawn and silent. Your wife grows more and more dissatisfied...]
[At thirty-three, your marriage collapses. Your ex-wife quickly finds someone else to move in with.]
[At thirty-five, you hide in a shabby rental, watching the pouring rain, suddenly realizing the world is as dark as night.]

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Looking at his future, a phrase popped into Kitahara’s mind.

If you’re able to endure hardship, then there’s an endless supply of it waiting.

What’s with this “fated drudge” nonsense—working yourself to death and still being targeted by the well-connected?

Isn’t this just bullying the honest?

And what about that ex-wife—how did he end up with someone so rotten? Was his future self out of his mind?

Kitahara could hardly believe this would be his fate, but the system had thoughtfully included an illustration: a dispirited man hiding in a dingy rental, drinking in gloom and silence. That made him accept it without protest.

Although he couldn’t understand how his future self had fallen so low, there must have been a reason... Kitahara began to wonder if perhaps his moral standards were too high.

Maybe making money required abandoning morality.

After a bit more thought, Kitahara sensed something was off.

The system spoke of thirty-five, but he was only sixteen.

By that logic, Deep Blue had arrived early... and most importantly, the highlighted task seemed to be for when he was thirty-five.

Kitahara reread the task.

[At thirty-five, on an ordinary night, you’re on the train home when you notice a beautiful woman being harassed by a drunk. You realize she’s the star illustrator at your company... You decide to take a chance on the future.]

He was at a loss—how was he supposed to save a woman at sixteen, when she’d only be harassed at thirty-five?

Should he go and jump in front of a truck?

Force himself to transmigrate again?

“Better just finish the movie. The task seems impossible for now.”

After pondering for a while, Kitahara decided to let it go for now and watch the movie—after all, he’d spent a thousand yen on the ticket.

The ticket was innocent.

As for the task, he’d leave it to fate on his way home.

...

Kitahara left the cinema and glanced at the time—it was getting late.

The movie ended at ten. He and a group of high school classmates had gone to see it together in the name of team building. He didn’t know how the others felt, but Kitahara personally thought it was a waste of time.

The idea that watching a movie together could deepen relationships seemed naïve to him... But unable to resist the persuasion of his mischievous friends—especially since someone else paid for the tickets—he went along.

“Let’s go, Kitahara.”

A delicate-looking boy waved at him, eyes bright, hands well-groomed, hair falling to his forehead. When Kitahara looked his way, the boy offered a gentle smile.

Hideyoshi Toyohara—Kitahara’s friend since first year.

“Yeah, coming.” Kitahara snapped back to reality, glancing around. “Where’s Yoshimizu?”

“He said he was going to confess to someone, told us to go on ahead,” Hideyoshi replied.

“He’s confessing this late? Where’s he doing it?”

“Said he picked a romantic spot...”

“Romantic?” Kitahara mused. “Don’t tell me it’s Ochanomizu—if he gets rejected, will he jump?”

“No idea. Want to check?”

“We’ll wait till he calls for rescue.” Kitahara shook his head.

“The river’s cold tonight. Maybe we should remind him to wrap up in a blanket before jumping...”

“You’re so gentle, Hideyoshi.”

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“Not really...” Hideyoshi and Kitahara walked side by side. Suddenly, Hideyoshi spoke. “I saw Sakura ask for your contact earlier.”

“Yeah, she said she wanted to discuss some homework...” Kitahara replied casually.

Reina Sakura wasn’t bad-looking: an oval face, willowy brows, long legs, slender waist, and beneath the school uniform, a soft chest... Any high school boy would be proud to have a girlfriend like her.

Though Kitahara didn’t think much of her, and her reputation wasn’t exactly stellar, he didn’t mind chatting.

Better than the ex-wife from the system, anyway.

Hideyoshi paused. “About that girl...”

“Is there a problem?” Kitahara asked.

“Not really...” Hideyoshi was a gentle guy, and after a moment’s thought, he said quietly, “I’ve heard she’s very close to a lot of boys.”

“So, you mean she’s a flirt?”

“It’s not nice to put it that way.”

I get what you’re saying.

Kitahara nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not Yoshimizu. And thanks.”

“No need.” Hideyoshi glanced at him a few times, a bit dazed, then blushed and quickly looked away.

Ignoring his friend’s sudden blush, Kitahara grew curious.

He’d sat next to Hideyoshi for a year—he was gentle and kind. For him to point out something special about this girl, what had she done?

With these thoughts, Kitahara reached the station. After saying goodbye to Hideyoshi, he found his train home.

It was half past ten.

Most of the office workers had finished their after-hours drinking and were heading home, just in time for the late rush. The platform was packed with drunks... It matched the system’s task scenario perfectly.

Yet, seeing their tired, numb expressions, Kitahara felt a twinge of emotion.

A sigh.

How had society ended up like this?

Hard to imagine what the world would be like by the time he graduated.

Looking at them, Kitahara felt as if he was seeing Yoshimizu’s future.

Me?

There was no way I’d end up like this.

Now that I know the future, everything can change.

Kitahara was convinced he would one day become a billionaire.

And if not a billionaire himself, at least he’d have a billionaire’s wife.

Woo-woo-woo—

The late-night train rolled along the tracks toward him.

The doors opened, and Kitahara stepped aboard with the crowd of drunks, beginning his journey home.

Get ready for action, get ready for action!