4

I... may have an actual fucking mental illness 'cause I can't stop playing Anime Tower Defense games on Roblox.

Apologies if this chapter comes out a little bit later, my narcolepsy is kicking me in the balls harder than usual.

Anyway...

LET'S GO GAMBLING!

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"So expensive..." 

Kenshin found himself in a convenience store. He had his duffle bag with him, his sweaty gym clothes firmly contained within. The male wasn't really interested in working here again, but he would like to buy some groceries now that he had the time and money.

And yet, despite his newfound wealth, the man found the prices plain ridiculous. Who the fuck would pay 10 doubloons for a piece of fucking chicken? 

Sigh, guess the economy isn't exactly booming when the housing market does a backflip just to explode when a giant monster randomly appears and demolishes half a city. Now, while those instances weren't common, they weren't exactly rare either. That's why so many people with even a speck of talent threw themselves into being heroes. They have or at least had families and friends that are in danger of monster attacks, so of course they would want to join the Hero Association to protect them. 

Making some fat money out of it was a nice little bonus.

"Buldak my beloved," Kenshin muttered to himself as he threw a few packets of Buldak Ramen into his shopping cart, his personal favourite.

"Ah."

Just as he was about to round an aisle and go to the cashier, he saw someone he should've expected, "It's Mister Clean..."

Well, not really, but the man definitely looked like him—bald, muscular, you get the picture. It was the same weirdly dressed bald guy from a week ago, the very same one who pretty much saved his life. He should probably thank him.

And he should stop calling his outfit weird. Even if it was, plenty of heroes dressed like clowns. Take Watchdog Man, for example!

"Hello."

Okay, maybe not the best way to greet someone.

"Hm? Hello?" yeah, the guy definitely didn't recognise him.

"Hey, I'm the clerk from that convenience store you used to visit. You know, the one that got bulldozed by a fish with legs?"

The bald guy just stared at Kenshin for a solid second before a metaphorical light bulb went off in his head, "Oh!"

"Yeah, so let me at least pay for your stuff as a thanks," Kenshin's offer seemed to be quite generous, even if the bald guy's shopping cart was basically empty.

"Eh, really?"

"Yup. Feel free to add some more stuff, it's on me."

Now, usually, people would hold themselves back a bit from cramming in a whole shopping aisle after being given such a generous gift. Not this guy though. His shopping cart was like a small mountain by the time he was done. 

At least Mister Clean was honest in that regard, unlike most people might be.

Kenshin felt for that poor intern cashier when he was forced to scan the mountain of seemingly random items and then still validate the man's coupons. Why the fuck would he use them anyway when he was getting that stuff for free?

"Thanks!" said the egg-shaped man as he—still dressed in his goofy ahh outfit mind you—carried the plethora of bags.

"Don't worry about it, the name's Kenshin by the way," the former clerk introduced himself.

"I'm Saitama," well, he introduced himself by his actual name so either he wasn't a popular hero, he didn't care about his status as a hero, or he was being friendly.

"You're a hero, right?"

"Something like that," replied Saitama as the two walked with shopping bags in their hands, casually strolling through the dim streets of Z-City.

"...So do you have, like, a hero alias or something?"

"Huh?" the man looked genuinely confused, "Not really."

"What class are you?"

"There are classes? I didn't know you had to go to school for this."

"...You're not registered with the Hero Association are you?"

"Nah," okay, that... certainly made things a lot more confusing in Kenshin's eyes, "What's that?"

"...Anyway," Kenshin decided then and there to not bother, "Do you have a superpower or something? That one punch was pretty insane back then."

"Not really," that elaborated on absolutely nothing.

"So you just... what? Trained really hard?" this short conversation was very quickly turning Kenshin's perception of human nature against him, how the fuck does one even get that strong?

"Yep. 100 pushups, 100 situps, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometre run every day."

"I... see," a bead of sweat trailed down Kenshin's brow, that was... well, the training regiment was hardly that insanely difficult for a pro athlete, let alone a hero, but there was no way on God's green Earth that someone could get so strong just from that, "Alright then, keep your secrets."

"Eh? What do you mean?" Saitama appeared genuinely confused but received no tangible answer, their conversation simply moved on from that little tidbit of information.

Their conversation would have to end eventually. While the two of them seemed to live in the same general direction, it quickly became evident to Kenshin that Saitama lived on a far less desirable side of Z-City than he thought.

"You actually live in the ghost town?" the caped baldy just kept on surprising the young former cashier.

"The rent is cheap," and Saitama was completely unbothered by the danger too, what a guy.

"Well, whatever floats your boat, I guess," Kenshin then bid Saitama goodbye, "If you need anything, you know my number."

"Sure," Saitama did not, in fact, even remember his name anymore, "See ya!"

And so the two went their separate ways. While Saitama's head was as empty as the vacuum of space, Kenshin's mind raced with thoughts about what he learned today. Not only could he become stronger through regular and repeated training, as one normally does, but he also learned of Saitama's training regiment, which, for all he knew, could have been some secret formula to gaining insane power. That or Saitama was simply a different breed entirely. 

Honestly, the bald man was such a goofy enigma that him being some overpowered monster was a very real thought, but Kenshin barely knew him so he didn't want to draw conclusions. They traded numbers, which felt a little weird for the youth since he hadn't even got a hot girl's number before, and now he was swapping contacts with some random bald hero, but that's just life, he supposed.

Wait no, that gym girl gave him her number... he should probably do something about that...

Nah.

Social anxiety is a bitch.

First comes getting strong enough to survive a monster attack, then comes getting some pussy, even if Kenshin would love nothing more than to reverse that order. 

Arriving in his basic ass apartment, Kenshin put his grocery bags on the kitchen counter before throwing his bag full of sweaty clothes into the bathroom, he would put them in the wash later.

First... it's gambling time!

"Let's go gambling," he should turn that into his hero catchphrase!

...Maybe not, he wouldn't want to turn unsuspecting children into gambling addicts, and their parents would crucify his public image. But then again, he was fairly certain the Hero Association had some R18 heroes as well. Tatsumaki's fat ass was very popular and just about impossible to make family-friendly...

Kenshin shook his head to make the horny go away—how I wish I had that power—and got straight to gambling his stuff away. The fact he could use the same objects he got from the gamba again immediately after doing so rapidly expedited the process of getting some good stuff. 

He learned how to mentally mute the annoying DING DING DING! sound of the slot machines, and instead, he focused his body on robotically touching things he knew he didn't want or need. Somehow he even managed to get a new washing machine! 

This time he set an alarm on his phone to play the worst jingle of all mankind, the Skibidi Toilet song so he would stop gambling after a set amount of time passes and turns that shit off. Sadly, his EX+ luck was really not pulling through today.

All he got was a single golden ticket he put into stamina and that was largely it.

That would be the case for a while longer before a different kind of ticket appeared.

It was virtually the same in appearance as the golden ticket, except it wasn't gold but instead was rapidly changing colours. Seriously, Kenshin was blessed to not have epilepsy from how vibrant this damn thing was!

The moment he touched it, it disintegrated into a million shining particles...

"Wow..."

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>[Name]

Kenshin

>[Age]

Irrelevant, legal.

>[Ability List]

Compulsive Gambler [N/A]

-In combat: roll a d20, the higher the number, the greater the critical strike, however, low numbers run the risk of the attack outright missing.

-Out of combat: play a variety of minigames at the cost of currency or items, each giving special rewards. The greater the risk, the greater the possible reward~

Perfect Self [EX+]

-View and edit personal attributes portraying to one's physique and even luck.

Photosynthesis] [C-]

The user can survive off of sunlight.

>[ATTRIBUTES]

Strength: F-

Stamina: D -> D+

Speed: F

Charm: EX+

Ability: B

Luck: EX+

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"This is worthless!"

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