EPISODE TWO - 3

Kaede's Return Home

The front door creaked open, the scent of home flooding Kaede's senses—soy, ginger, something sweet baking in the oven.

Kaede stepped in, the familiar walls of the house stretching out before him—framed photos of long-forgotten festivals, shelves cluttered with dusty trinkets, and that same old rug that still curled up at the corners.

But what truly hit him was the smell.

His stomach growled—loudly.

"You're just in time!" his grandmother chirped as she shuffled into the living room, a tray in her wrinkled hands. "I made all your favorites!"

The table was piled high—bowls of miso soup, crispy tempura, a steaming pot of curry rice, delicate plates of sushi, and even sweet red bean mochi.

Kaede's jaw dropped.

"Grandma… you didn't have to—"

"Nonsense! You've been gone for two years! You need to eat."

Kiko the tabby cat sat perched on the counter, his tail flicking as he watched the spread with wide, greedy eyes.

Kaede didn't hesitate.

He dug in.

Chopsticks blurred. Plates emptied. Rice disappeared by the mouthful.

"Whoa…" His grandmother's eyes widened as Kaede inhaled another plate of karaage.

Even Kiko seemed stunned, ears flattened as he watched Kaede plow through the feast.

"It seems you've developed quite an appetite," she finally said, half-amused, half-concerned.

Kaede paused mid-bite, the words sinking in.

She's right.

Normally, he couldn't eat this much—his food allergies had always been a nightmare. Shellfish? Off-limits. Gluten-heavy meals? No chance. He'd spent his life side-eyeing ingredient lists.

But now?

He felt nothing—no tightness in his chest, no swelling throat. Just hunger.

Maybe it's the coma, he thought, brushing it off as he stabbed another piece of tempura.

The TV droned in the background.

"...The Global Gate Authority has announced new hunter classifications following the Kanagawa expansion—now over 700 permanent active gates in Japan alone and Elite hunters will be required to pass quarterly assessment tests. Meanwhile, private corporations continue to compete for hunting rights, leading to a surge in—"

Kaede barely heard it, too busy slurping noodles like a man possessed.

"Eat this too," his grandmother said, setting down a bowl of steaming soba in front of him. "Good for your health."

"Thanks, Grandma."

He dug in—

—when a green glow flared before his eyes.

POP!

A transparent window flickered into existence:

[+0.5% Health Restored]

Healthy meal bonus applied.

Kaede nearly choked on his noodles.

He swatted at the air, but the glowing window hovered there, bright and clear.

His grandmother kept sipping her tea, completely oblivious.

"...You don't see this?" Kaede asked hesitantly.

She blinked at him. "See what, dear?"

So I'm not crazy.

Kaede squinted at the window—it wasn't the same as the one from the hospital. This one was sleek, vibrant, the edges lined with pulsing green.

He noticed the tiny health bar in the corner of the screen.

4.5%.

That's where I'm starting?

As he downed the last bite of soba, the health bar ticked up again.

[+0.5% Health Restored]

The window blinked and vanished.

Kaede sat back, his mind racing.

So… eating boosts my health? Like, literally?

His fingers twitched.

This is real. It's all real.

Later That Night – Kaede's Room

The house had gone still.

Moonlight slipped through the half-open window, casting silver lines across Kaede's cluttered desk.

He sat on the edge of his bed, Kiko curled up at his feet.

His mind buzzed.

What the hell is happening to me?

The hospital window. The health pop-up. The bee incident.

He flexed his fingers, half-expecting something to materialize.

Nothing.

But deep inside, he felt it—something shifting.

That night, sleep didn't come easy.

The Dream

He was back in the storm.

Back at Kanagawa Castle.

The sky bled crimson as the gates cracked open—hundreds of them.

Sun Jia.

She stood there, blade raised, her long braid whipping in the wind as monsters surged from the breach.

Kaede saw himself—cowering in the shadows, too afraid to move as chaos erupted around him.

He'd run.

He'd left her.

Her voice echoed in his head.

"Kaede!"

Kaede reached out, but she was gone—swallowed by the horde.

He Woke Up, Gasping.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Sweat beaded down his temple.

Then—

POP!

Windows exploded around him—green, red, blue and black—floating, overlapping, crowding his vision.

[PROFILE MENU CONTROL UNLOCKED]

HEALTH MENU UNLOCKED : 6.5%

DEATH LOG UNLOCKED : Death #1: Allergy Insect [DEATH LOG: 1/1000 UNLOCKED]

MAGIC MENU - LOCKED

INVENTORY MENU - EMPTY

Kaede sat frozen, the screens reflecting in his wide eyes.

He reached for the Death Log, and the bee incident appeared in brutal detail.

1 out of 1000 deaths unlocked.

One thousand?

He scrolled, seeing 999 locked slots waiting to be filled. each 100th slot elaborately designed to stand out.

His chest tightened.

But there was something else—beneath the cold numbers, a possibility.

A way to get stronger.

Stronger than I've ever been.

Sun Jia's face flashed in his mind—the moment he'd left her.

Never again.

He clenched his fist.

He didn't understand this system, not fully.

But he knew one thing.

He was going to figure it out.

And he was going to get them back.

Sunlight poured through the lace curtains, its golden beams dancing lazily across the polished wooden floors. The soft hum of cicadas seeped in through the cracked windows, the only sound accompanying the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen.

Grandma shuffled from her room, slippers dragging against the floor as she began her usual morning rounds. She checked the shrine in the living room, straightened a few tilted picture frames, and rubbed sleep from her eyes as she headed towards the kitchen—

—and froze.

The kitchen was spotless.

Not just clean. Pristine.

The dusty shelves gleamed. The once-grimy stovetop sparkled under the morning light. The faint scent of lemon cleaner lingered in the air.

And there, by the counter, was Kaede—hair tied messily back, sleeves rolled up, a spatula in hand as he flipped pancakes onto a plate stacked high with toast, eggs, and fruit.

"Kaede?" Her voice was half shock, half suspicion.

"Morning, Grandma," he replied casually, placing a delicate sprig of parsley atop the plate.

She blinked. "You—cooked?"

He gestured to the spread: pancakes golden and fluffy, eggs cooked just right, fresh miso soup steaming gently beside a plate of grilled fish.

Grandma's eyes darted from the food to the sparkling countertops.

"You… cleaned too?"

"Figured I'd help out," Kaede replied, pouring her a cup of tea with a practiced hand.

She sat, hands trembling slightly as she picked up her chopsticks.

She took a bite—

—and her eyes went wide.

"This is—good! Really good!" she exclaimed, waving her chopsticks at him. "Since when could you cook like this? You could barely boil rice before!"

Kaede chuckled, sipping his coffee as he sat across from her.

"Guess the coma did something good."

But as he sipped, his eyes flicked upward—

POP!

The familiar green-tinted window snapped into place before him.

[HEALTH STATUS: 8.5%]

Stamina: 10/120

Speed: 5/120

Strength : 8/150

Energy: 18/150

Immunity: Stable

[MAGIC: LOCKED]

[INVENTORY: Empty]

[DEATH LOG: 1/1000 Unlocked]

The windows floated, clean and sharp, and Kaede barely had to think to swipe them aside or expand them.

I've figured it out, he thought, mentally flicking through tabs.

Through a sleepless night, he had explored every window—every system.

Health wasn't just life points—it tracked stamina, immunity, energy, and more.

Magic was still sealed tight, a faint pulse behind the locked symbol.

Inventory was empty, but when he'd placed a pen inside it last night, it had simply disappeared—only to reappear when he focused on summoning it.

The Death Log? That was the real mystery.

He flicked it open again.

[DEATH LOG: 1/1000]

Death #1: Allergy Insect

999 locked slots gleamed back at him.

So… I really did die? he wondered, staring at the entry. But how does this work? Can I unlock more?

The question gnawed at him.

"Kaede?"

Grandma's voice broke through his thoughts.

She set her chopsticks down and reached for her grocery list.

"I need some groceries from the shop. Think you can go?"

Kaede perked up.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Sure you're okay? You look… different today."

"I feel good," he grinned, stretching. "Better than I've felt in years."

His Health bar ticked up slightly—8.5%—thanks to the food and the light workout he'd done while cleaning.

Everything affects it, he mused. Food, exercise…

He grabbed the grocery list, tied his shoes, and headed for the door.

Outside, the morning air was crisp and cool, the streets still quiet.

Rather than grabbing his old bicycle from the shed, Kaede made a split-second decision.

Jogging'll help boost my stamina, right?

He started at a steady pace, his shoes hitting the pavement with rhythmic thuds.

POP!

A small translucent bar hovered above his vision:

[STAMINA: 12/120 → 15/120]

Light cardio detected. Endurance +0.3%

Kaede chuckled between breaths.

"This is like a game," he muttered.

He picked up the pace, heart thudding, feeling every stretch of his muscles—but instead of tiring quickly, he felt a subtle surge, as if the System itself was nudging him forward.

Every step… every action… it all counts.

But the lingering mystery still gnawed at him—the Death Log.

Why 1000?

He rounded the corner, the grocery store in sight.

And for the first time in a long while—Kaede didn't feel broken.

He felt alive.