HOTD: A New Dawn

"You want me to do what?"

Tysone munched over his words carefully. "I said, go around your school and ask around, look around, for anyone that might be special in a way. Whether they have particular behaviors, odd skills, or are just weird people in general."

Saya, predictably, did not share the same enthusiasm. "First of all, you want to add more work on top of what I already have?" She grinded her teeth, a tick mark popping up on her forehead. "Secondly, the reason you want me to waste so much of my daily time is for…" Her lips trembled in fury. "It is for the most shallow and ridiculous reason I have ever heard in my life."

"I have my reasons." Tysone was quick to placate. "Besides, it's not like I could do that myself. I'd look like a creep!"

"Well, you are one!"

"Come on, Saya-chan." Tysone coaxed the younger girl, standing up from his chair. "You know, I've actually bought you a gift." He took out a ticket from his bag. "I thought it'd be a waste to not give it to you, so—"

Saya's eyes zeroed in on the ticket, widening slightly before she could help herself. "That's... that's the ticket for Tokyo Interactive..." She muttered, almost unconsciously.

"It is." Tysone nodded. He could tell that Saya's resolve was starting to falter. "You know that I'm not an egghead like yourself; this stuff doesn't appeal to me." He chuckled. "But hey, don't feel like I'm trying to buy you or anything. This is merely a token of appreciation for the hard work you've done."

"...I never said I wanted to go." Saya said, her eyes still glued to the ticket. Tysone smirked inwardly. 'Got her.'

"Ah, of course not. How presumptuous of me." He sighed. "It would have been a waste anyway, so—"

"Fine! I'll do it!" Saya said, snatching the ticket out of his hands.

"Wow, really?" He asked, feigning surprise.

"Just this once though! I'm not a detective, or someone who works for you or something, and you better not ask for something so stupid ever again, you hear me?!"

"I understand." He smiled, nodding. "Thank you."

Saya glared at him.

Tysone's eyes twinkled. 

She was so easy. 

Saya was the kind of girl who thought herself above the crowd. A realist with no time for games or nonsense. She believed that by making her intentions clear, by putting herself in a position of strength and authority, she would always have the upper hand.

She didn't understand that by doing so, she was making herself vulnerable. It wasn't difficult to figure out what she was thinking, what she was feeling, or even how she would react. Her honesty was her biggest weakness, her transparency her undoing.

Tysone was never going to make a deal without ensuring he had something to give. 

He knew her type well. She was a logical person, a scientist. So she was susceptible to being manipulated with the right kind of reward. All it took was finding what she wanted, what she couldn't resist, and then dangling that carrot in front of her.

"I'll be counting on you, Saya."

She grumbled something, but eventually nodded with a sigh.

"Just this once."

"Once is enough."

… 

If his current life was a game, then Tysone was a player, and he had to know if he was simply doing the campaign, or sweating in multiplayer. The problem here was not only the possibility of different anime characters popping out like pimples on prom night, but also the very possibility of others like him as well. 

To be honest, this dilemma may never truly get a proper answer. After all, who was to say that the other 'players' didn't want to live a peaceful life? Maybe they're barely getting by with a part-time job somewhere, reading novels, watching anime, and watching the protagonists of their respective anime fumble love confessions or something. 

If they didn't stand out in any way, Tysone wouldn't know. 'No one would know.' And perhaps that's what they were thinking—wanting—as well. They probably didn't want to stick out, as a way to avoid catching each other's attention. 

Or maybe it was all paranoia. Maybe Tysone was alone, or there was one other.

Or none.

Still, he made sure to talk to Mai as well, asking her the same. 'Look around your school. If you find anyone 'particular', relay it to me.' 

Unlike the grumbling Saya, Mai took it in stride and promised to do so efficiently. She considered it as a supplemental favor for his help with writing good lyrics for her. 

Tysone looked out of the window of his apartment. "I should look into buying a bigger property soon. Something with a bunker. A nice underground space to store stuff when the breakout finally happens. Food rations, water, gas masks, non-lethal and lethal weapons, medicine. Hmm, a bug out bag would be handy. Or is it bug-in-a-bag? Something like a doomsday bag, huh? Damn, I should look into starting a doomsday prepper business."

Weapons. How would he get his hands on those? 

Maybe he could steal them from the firing range? 

But he needed heavier weaponry. Did he really have to get close to the main cast? 

Getting involved with the yakuza was too dangerous, and it'd paint a target on his back, both from them and from Black Label. 

"It can wait a while still." Tysone decided. 

'For now, I should focus on looking out for anyone else like me. Even if I can't find them, it's no problem. I'll make sure they find me.'

…

Tysone's life fell into a routine. From amping up his personal training, to his business projects, and to his networking, over a year had already gone by. Some days, he'd lie there and think just how fast time flew by. A literal blink of the eye. Some others, the hours dragged like an injured snail.

Not all days were good. Most days were simple. Some were average. And every once in a while, it got truly hard to push himself. When his fatigue and fear of what was to come ate away at his focus.

He would have spiraling episodes, in which nothing mattered, nor seemed worth working toward anymore. His goal wasn't set in stone, his destiny wasn't written. It could all end.

There could be others like him out there, looking to finish him off or to recruit him. There could be other world-ending threats or anime tropes being set in motion that could wipe everything he'd spent so long working for out of existence.

Few things in this world were certain, but his doubts, his insecurities and anxiety, never allowed him peace of mind. However, if Tysone prided himself in anything, it was in his mental fortitude and ability to press on in spite of hardships.

A smile tugged at Tysone's lips.

It was morning.

And he was looking at a piece of news displayed on his brand new smartphone. 

—In just a year, Tysone's rage rooms revolutionized Tokonosu City and beyond, offering safe spaces to smash away stress. What began as a small building grew into multiple locations, drawing overworked locals and thrill-seekers with themed setups and viral "Smash Events." Efficient, bold, and unforgettable, Tysone Cole turned frustration into a business…

The article went on and on, with pictures, testimonials, and anything to make it look extra good. "Saya's mother is behind this." He chuckled, closing the app. He had received many interview requests in the past, to which he had accepted, but none of them had made this much of an impact. 

Souichiro Takagi didn't seem the type to manipulate the media for this type of purpose. 

Still, it didn't really matter.

Tysone and Saya's Rage Room eventually expanded into other metropolitan areas. Cities like Tokyo. Kyoto. Osaka. Yokohama and even Nagasaki. They had yet to reach worldwide influence, but Tysone wasn't focused on that. The main objective to make as much money as possible was completed. 

Now, Tysone's net worth sat around 1 million-fucking-dollars. Or 150 million yen. Saya's help in expanding was honestly so crucial to their business development that if it wasn't for her, Tysone wasn't sure if he would've been able to make even a fraction of what they made. 

He wasn't the strongest, or the smartest, or even the kindest, or the luckiest. He wasn't blessed or well-off. Just an unfortunate young man who happened to fall into an anime world, with the right knowledge to make the most of it. 

But perhaps that could also be considered luck. Luck and resourcefulness, combined with enough patience and drive, could turn anybody into something, or anyone into somebody.

"How many months are left?"

Tysone sighed as he looked at the ceiling of his new apartment. 

Not many. Then again, Tysone didn't know or remember the exact date of the apocalypse, but based on Saya's age when he met her, he drew a conclusion. And that conclusion turned out to be right.

"Seriously, it can be any day now, not months."

Author's Note:

If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support