Chat Group Crossover: My System Simulates Infinite Anime Worlds — Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Nagumo: Oh, Hell No.

Perhaps they could simply wander the streets, hand in hand, and buy groceries. For Cecilia, whose entire understanding of this world was filtered through the sterile lens of the internet, even the most mundane outing with Nagumo felt like a grand adventure.

Her steps came to a halt before a small, cluttered stall selling paper talismans. She tilted her head, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, before it was replaced by faint disappointment. These were nothing like the potent, exquisitely crafted charms Nagumo had given her.

The stall owner, a man with a practiced, greasy smile, saw his opening. “Well now, young man, showing your lovely girlfriend a good time? Care to take a look at these talismans? Top quality, and the price is more than fair.”

A warm blush instantly crept up Cecilia’s neck, dusting her cheeks in a delicate pink. She shyly averted her gaze.

Seeing this, the owner’s smile widened into a conspiratorial smirk, aimed squarely at Nagumo. He was certain the young man was hooked.

Nagumo, however, merely swept a bored, indifferent gaze over the wares spread out on the worn cloth. In the simulations, he had been the very progenitor of modern talisman crafting, a grandmaster whose works could shake the heavens. He could tell with a single glance that the items on this stall were the clumsy work of novices. Their power was negligible, and while their prices were a fraction of what one would pay through official channels, they were still laughably overpriced for what they were.

Cecilia, too, could feel the stark difference. The talismans before her felt inert and lifeless compared to the vibrant energy humming within the ones Nagumo had gifted her. She slowly straightened up, her hand finding his and lacing their fingers together.

“Nagumo,” she said softly, her voice a gentle melody. “Let’s go look somewhere else.”

Nagumo nodded, giving her hand a light squeeze.

They walked away, their linked hands a casual, intimate display that spoke volumes to everyone around them. They left the stall owner standing frozen in their wake, his sales pitch dying on his lips.

The man covered his face with one hand, a groan of frustration escaping him. He had completely misread the situation. He hadn’t expected this couple to be so utterly immune to his usual tactics. At the same time, a bitter pang of envy struck him. To have such a sensible, well-behaved, and beautiful girlfriend…

He subconsciously clenched his fist, and a small, sputtering fireball flickered to life in his palm.

He glanced at the neighboring vendors and saw, to his astonishment, that they were doing the exact same thing. Identical orbs of resentful flame danced in their hands, their faces masks of shared commiseration. It was only then that the stall owner realized he was not alone. He was surrounded by hidden masters, by comrades-in-arms united in their singlehood.

A silent, collective sigh seemed to pass through the market square.

Meanwhile, Nagumo, now strolling further down the bustling street with Cecilia, felt a bead of cold sweat trace a line down his temple. He couldn’t believe it. This world actually had its own version of the FFF Inquisition, and it seemed to have merged with the infamous Five-Fireball God Cult. The sheer, concentrated saltiness was a evident force.

Cecilia, oblivious to the undercurrent of communal despair, was having the time of her life. She was practically vibrating with excitement, stopping at nearly every stall, her eyes wide with wonder.

Watching her, Nagumo was reminded of their original purpose for coming here. He had planned to set up a small stall of his own to offload the low-level talismans he’d drawn earlier. While the guild’s recycling channel was faster, they only purchased items at twenty percent below market price—the guild had to make its profit, after all.

But more than that, this was meant to be a way to adjust his own state of mind. It was a chance to ground himself, to cultivate a sense of peace and normalcy, and perhaps even overhear some local gossip. In a place as diverse and crowded as this, idle chatter often carried the most interesting news.

He looked at Cecilia, who was currently captivated by a display of colorful, hand-woven bracelets. “Cecilia,” he began, “how would you like to try running a stall yourself?”

Her head snapped toward him in an instant, her silver-blue eyes sparkling like a field of stars. She gave a small, eager nod. “Mm.”

The two of them made their way to the market supervision office, where they spent a thousand credits for a temporary stall permit. After locating their rented spot, they made some minor adjustments to their appearance. In reality, it was just a matter of pulling up the hoods of their black robes and donning simple masks to avoid any unwanted attention.

Nagumo took out two small folding stools from his storage space, followed by a large cloth which he spread on the ground. He then carefully arranged the stacks of talismans, placing a few small, hand-written signs with the prices clearly marked beside them.

With the preparations complete, Nagumo simply settled onto his stool, content to let the wares speak for themselves.

Hearing the boisterous shouts of the other vendors echoing through the market, Cecilia leaned closer. “Aren’t we going to call out to attract customers?” she whispered.

Nagumo shook his head. “No need. Those who know their stuff will see the quality at a glance. For those who don’t, no amount of shouting will make a difference.”

“Oh.” Accepting his logic, Cecilia retrieved the book Nagumo had written for her from her own storage bag and began to flip through its pages, her expression one of deep concentration.

Nearly half an hour drifted by in comfortable silence. From time to time, a discerning adventurer or a student on a budget would stop, their eyes widening slightly as they inspected the talismans. Most purchased the explosive variants—they were cheap, effective, and a staple for any dungeon crawl. A few others picked up some basic buffing charms. The secret realm just outside the city was considered a beginner-level dungeon, so the monsters within weren’t particularly strong. Naturally, the gear being sold here reflected that.

Then, Nagumo saw them. A pair of familiar women’s dress shoes. His gaze slowly traveled up, taking in the distinctive fabric of the trousers, and then the crisp, white lab coat worn over a blouse.

His eyes finally reached the person’s face, and his heart gave a sudden, violent lurch. But it wasn’t just her. Standing beside her were two other figures. One was a gothic lolita, whose youthful face was a stark contrast to her voluptuous figure.

The other… the other he recognized instantly. It was the girl from the simulation, his childhood sweetheart.

Kurumi Tokisaki.

A jolt went through Nagumo, cold and sharp. His mind reeled. ‘What’s going on? How is Kurumi here? Did she cross over through a spatial fluctuation?’

He saw the familiar, unsettling madness lurking just beneath the surface of her calm, elegant smile, and a cold sweat broke out across his back. His mind, honed by countless lifetimes of experience and paranoia, began to spin through a series of terrifying possibilities.

He remembered the original story. He remembered that Kurumi’s descent had been triggered by the death of a dear friend. And in his simulation, hadn’t he died right in front of her? Hadn’t he put on a heart-wrenching, over-the-top performance, complete with tears and snot, to sell the act? It was entirely possible he hadn’t just completed a mission; he had inadvertently nurtured a final boss into existence.

Then, an even more terrifying thought struck him. If Kurumi could cross over through a random spatial tear, what was stopping Elysia and the others? He had a sudden, vivid mental image of Elysia appearing, perhaps heralded by the screech of a locomotive crashing through the fabric of reality.

He remembered her gaze in that final simulation—that obsessive, possessive look, the one that promised to lock him in a basement so he could never leave her side. If she found him here… if nothing unexpected happened to intervene, he was fairly certain he would meet with a very unfortunate “accident.”

And then, his mind dredged up the most frightening possibility of all: his final, desperate gambit in the Honkai: Star Rail world. He was sure that the God of Pleasure, Aha, had given things a little push at the end. If Jingliu, in all her moonlit, sword-crazed glory, truly came to this world… Nagumo felt a genuine wave of despair. That would be more than just troublesome. It would be a catastrophe.

At that moment, Cecilia also spotted the approaching trio and recognized her teacher. She was just about to open her mouth to call out a greeting when Nagumo’s hand shot out, his fingers closing firmly around her wrist.

The word died on her lips. She looked at him, her expression filled with confusion. She didn’t understand. As far as she remembered, there were no school rules forbidding students from setting up stalls or holding part-time jobs.

But Nagumo had warned her, and that was enough. She trusted him. If he felt this was a problem, then it was a problem. She clamped her mouth shut.

Nagumo felt a surge of gratitude. ‘This silly saintess really is a good woman,’ he thought. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, how to read a situation in an instant.

His first, frantic thought was to get her away from this impending Shuraba. He decided then and there: tonight, he would send Cecilia through the Otherworld Gate. With the resources available on that side, she might even be able to break through to the legendary, unmatched 81st level of Qi Refining.

Forcing his racing heart to calm, Nagumo looked up at Hiratsuka Shizuka. He deliberately pitched his voice lower, adding a rough, gravelly edge. “This customer, what can I get for you? Take a look for yourself; the prices are all marked.”

Hiratsuka Shizuka picked up one of the talismans, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as if it were something distasteful. A look of complete disdain crossed her face.

“Say, boss,” she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Can’t you make it cheaper? These things of yours look like inferior goods, don’t they?”