To train the body, you need money. And without money, how can you train? Forget about gym equipment—even the energy spent and nutritional supplements needed during training are already a headache. There's a saying: "The rich learn martial arts, the poor study literature." Without money, where are you going to find martial prowess?
Sure, there are some rustic methods, but they obviously don't suit me. After all, I've been training in martial arts with Grandpa for nearly twenty years. Normal training methods just don't cut it for me. Besides, even if I did train like a normal person, don't forget—I've got that magic cube. Who knows when it'll be fully charged? When the time comes to cross into another world, ordinary-level training just won't be enough. And if I want to quickly raise my strength, I'll definitely need the herbal formulas Grandpa used to use on me. I don't know how much traditional Chinese medicine costs in Japan, but it's definitely not something I can afford with just pocket money.
So in the end… it all comes down to money.
Itou Makoto glanced at his second sister, Itou Reina, who was standing not far away. Borrow money from her? No way. Even though I've only been here for less than a day, her attitude toward me at breakfast made it pretty clear—she doesn't like me. Ask my older sister? Even if she agreed, she probably wouldn't give much. This clearly isn't a small amount we're talking about. A ten or twenty thousand yen loan might work, but for something like a hundred thousand? No chance. Ask mom? Uh… with how this body's been behaving… yeah, not happening.
Thinking it over again and again, I guess I'll have to go back to the old way.
At that moment, the bus arrived. He boarded with the others—it wasn't too crowded—and headed toward the school.
Japan's public transportation system wasn't bad. No traffic jams or anything. Before long, they arrived near the school. Itou Makoto got off along with Itou Reina and a few other classmates who had boarded along the way.
"Yo, Makoto!"
On the way, a guy with a roguish air and bruises on his face walked over and slapped Makoto on the shoulder before he could even react.
"Kenji?" Makoto asked, his tone carrying a hint of confusion that only someone who really knew him would catch.
Memories clicked into place. The guy was Tanaka Kenji, a fellow delinquent at the same school and even in the same class. Their relationship was fairly decent—they often got into trouble together. Thinking about that, a spark lit up in Makoto's eyes. Talk about a pillow when you're sleepy—this guy might be the answer to his money problems.
"Makoto, you look like you're doing alright. Guess you didn't get too roughed up yesterday, huh?" Tanaka Kenji gave him a once-over.
"Yeah right. I totally got wrecked," Makoto grumbled.
He remembered the brawl from yesterday now. It started in a pretty juvenile and impulsive way—he and a few others had gotten some ideas and just acted on them. But things went south fast. Turned out those girls had male companions, and not just any guys—they were young punks and half-drunk, too. Naturally, both sides started brawling. Thankfully, despite being older and drunk, those guys were sluggish. And since Makoto and his crew were younger, it ended up being a fair fight. Unfortunately, Makoto got the short end of the stick and got knocked out cold by one of the girls with a blow to the head. The upside? He passed out before he took any serious damage, so there were no marks. The downside? That was the moment the original Makoto was replaced by the current Makoto.
"Hey, Kenji, you got any money on you?" Makoto asked after gathering himself. From what he remembered, Kenji usually had some cash—not a lot, but a few ten-thousand yen wasn't out of the question.
"Huh? You need cash for something?" Kenji asked, digging into his pocket. A handful of crumpled greenish bills appeared in his hand. After counting, it came to about 16,000 yen.
"Yeah, I've got something I need money for, and I don't want to wait for next month's protection fee payout. So I'm planning to borrow from you, Yamazaki, and Oda," Makoto explained, eyeing the money.
"Well~ here, I'll lend you 15,000. I'll keep 1,000 for myself—you see, I'm giving you almost everything I've got. Not bad, huh?" Kenji grinned, pulling out a 1,000 yen bill and stuffing the rest into Makoto's hands.
"Thanks," Makoto said sincerely. He couldn't help but feel a little touched—seems this body did have at least one or two decent friends.
Having gotten some money, Makoto felt much better. The two of them resumed their usual banter, joking around while also enjoying the, ahem, scenic views beneath the skirts of Japanese high school girls. Seriously, good-looking legs among them are way too rare.
The day passed quickly. Compared to back home, high school in Japan was ridiculously easy. Most classes ended around 3 or 4 p.m., with the rest of the time set aside for club activities. Of course, as a proud member of the "Go-Home Club," Makoto didn't join any clubs. With over 80,000 yen collected from his friends, he hopped on the subway and headed to a well-known traditional medicine shop near Tokyo.
Even though Japan has Chinatowns, Tokyo itself doesn't have one. So if you want herbal medicine, you've got to go to a big pharmacy nearby. Traditional Chinese medicine is still pretty popular in Japan. Just search on Yahoo, and you'll find plenty.
After nearly three hours, Makoto finally bought all the herbs he needed. The basic ones were easy enough to find—most pharmacies had them. Even if they didn't, it didn't matter. For now, he only needed the basics. When it came time for the rare stuff, he could just head to Chinatown. The only real trouble was getting snake venom—it took him several stops to finally find a place that had it.
He packed all the herbs into a large bag and headed home. By the time he arrived, it was already past 6 p.m.—clearly late for dinner.
As he stepped through the door, he saw his mother, Eriko, sitting on the sofa watching TV.
"You're back," Eriko said, glancing at him.
"Yeah, I'm back." Makoto nodded, holding up his package as he walked in.
"What's that?" Eriko got up and moved toward him, intending to help carry it.
"Herbal medicine," Makoto replied, sidestepping her offer. Eriko didn't press the issue.
"What do you need that for?" she asked, curious. In her memory, her son had never bought such things before. Even when he got into fights, he never used them.
"It's for something." Makoto didn't want to explain, and honestly, it fit the original Makoto's personality better to stay vague.
"Alright, I won't ask. You haven't eaten yet, right? I'll go heat something up for you." Eriko didn't pry further. The bag did smell strongly of herbs, so she wasn't too worried.
"Thanks." Makoto nodded and headed to his room.
Eriko watched his back as he disappeared down the hall, her brow furrowed. Then she turned and went to the kitchen to warm up his dinner.