Genki gave a warm but sincere smile to the new person he had just met his hand still hurting from the intense handshake.

  Well... she seems friendly enough. Maybe I could befriend her. She looks nice, too nice enough for this weird place. I still don’t know much about it... this world. That old man helped earlier with the basics, sure, but I need more...

  "Ah, I see. So, what’s the deal with this place anyway?"

  He asked casually, trying to learn as much as he could without having to rely on Owen again.

  The blue-haired woman looked at Genki with surprising seriousness for once.

  "This town is part of a once-thriving land that was hit by a worldwide illness. It... changes you. Fuses with your flesh. It’s complicated. But you’re safe within the city walls, trust me. Out there in the wild? It's horrible. Society collapsed. We’re surviving barely. Eh, but enough talk! Let me show you where I work."

  Genki was not reassured. If anything, her explanation only added to his anxiety.

  Wild? An illness? Great... just great. Another problem to add to my ever-growing list of concerns.

  He looked around cautiously. They were still standing near the bank, right where the mysterious and energetic woman had dropped her bag.

  Before Genki could say anything more, she spoke up again, wearing that same mischievous grin.

  "You can call me Emma! I forgot to tell you my name, right? And you are?"

  Genki—usually cold, guarded, hardened by the empty routine of his fast-food job—actually found her attitude endearing. Just this once, he decided to drop his mask.

  Only for now.

  He placed a hand on his chest and smiled. His posture shifted slightly, softer.

  "Genki. Genki Sato. A washed-up athlete past his prime with no idea why he’s here. Alright I’ll accept your invitation."

  Wow... this is actually working?

  Emma laughed a full, open laugh that echoed her confidence. Maybe a little too loud, but honest.

  "Ah, got it! By the way, what were you doing at the bank? You do know Mister Owen isn’t exactly the friendliest guy around, right? He’s... crooked. Richest man in this dump. I don’t trust him."

  Genki stared at her, giving a neutral expression once again.

  "Oh, him? Yeah, well... he seemed knowledgeable about the town, and I had no clue where to go. To be honest, I’m not from he-"

  He was cut off mid-sentence.

  "Oh, I could tell from your clothes," she said, grinning. "What even is that outfit? Cheap, bright blue tracksuit? Not judging or anything, but yeah they’re not exactly optimal for survival around here."

  She rested her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes slightly as she let out a small sigh of pity.

  Genki scoffed and waved her off with a dismissive gesture, just as the wind blew his hair aside.

  "They're my pride, alright? Had this tracksuit since I was a teen, and it still fits just fine. I like it. Besides, I don’t have anything else to wear. And honestly? That's the least of my problems right now, idiot."

  The two of them started walking toward Emma’s workshop near the slums a worn, cluttered shop Genki must’ve missed earlier.

  Emma spoke again, glancing at him with a smirk.

  “Idiot? Oh sure. At least I’m not the one still covered in mud.”

  Genki grimaced. He had almost forgotten. He’d been shoved into the mud earlier his tracksuit and shoes were still filthy.

  Yeah, I need a shower. Badly. Assuming they even have one here…

  “Do you have something to clean off?” he asked, hoping this world had at least something as basic as water and soap.

  Emma gave him a look, resting a hand under her chin.

  “Obviously we do. This town may be falling apart, but we’ve still got some of the old tech. I’ve got water and soap at the workshop.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Genki laughed. It felt almost absurd.

  Of course they do. Flying engines, alien guns… but basic cleaning? Still just water and soap. No sci-fi showers, huh.

  “Well, that’s fine. I’ll take what I can get,” he said with a dry chuckle.

  For a moment, he drifted. He imagined home. A warm bath. A familiar scent. He missed it more than he cared to admit.

  Then movement caught his eye.

  To the left commotion. He squinted and, for a second, thought his tired brain was playing tricks on him. But no.

  Three men grown, ragged, and desperate-looking were cornering an elderly couple. One of them snatched food from the old man’s hands. The woman clutched her husband’s arm, trembling.

  Genki’s gut twisted.

  I hate this… I get why they’re stealing. Surviving. But still this isn’t right. Not like this.

  Without thinking, he bolted.

  “Genki!” Emma shouted behind him. “Come back!”

  But he was already gone, his feet slamming against the cracked pavement. He rushed in, lowering his shoulder, and slammed into the smallest of the thieves a short, wiry man with short black hair and torn brown clothes. The man let out a strangled cough and dropped instantly.

  “What the—!?”

  He didn’t finish the sentence before Genki’s momentum knocked him out cold.

  The couple gasped in shock.

  “Young man please, don’t! It’s fine we don’t want you hurt over us!”

  But Genki ignored them. He hated seeing people like them taken advantage of. It reminded him too much of things he never wanted to remember.

  Emma caught up just in time to see the second thief a broad man with orange-dyed hair, a spiked jacket, and brass rings on his fingers pulling a rusted blade from his belt.

  “Watch out!” she shouted.

  But she didn’t hesitate. She ducked under his swing and drove her fist straight into his gut with an uppercut. He reeled back, but not before landing a glancing blow across her cheek with his forearm. Emma grunted, staggering slightly.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, wiping the side of her face with her sleeve. “Alright, that one stung.”

  Before she could recover, the third thief—tall, with wild gray hair and eyes wide with fury rushed her. He jumped up and landed a kick against her shoulder, then grabbed her arm and twisted.

  “Let go!” she shouted, struggling as the man tried to overpower her.

  The orange-haired thief, still dazed but on his feet, pointed and shouted.

  “You’re both dead, you idiots! You think this place needs heroes?”

  Genki, having just recovered from the tackle, didn’t wait. He charged again, this time swinging his right arm and connecting a clean hook against the jaw of the third thief holding Emma.

  The man’s head snapped to the side, and he stumbled. Emma yanked her arm free, spun around, and delivered a sharp jab to his side. The thief dropped to the ground with a groan.

  All three now lay in the dirt groaning, bruised, but alive.

  Genki stood above them, panting. His lip was split from the earlier scuffle with the second one. His knuckles stung.

  Emma exhaled sharply, holding her sore shoulder.

  “Well… not bad for someone new to town,” she muttered. “Remind me not to call you an idiot again.”

  Genki gave a breathless, crooked smile.

  “Too late for that.”

  The old couple approached slowly, still shaken. The old woman knelt down slightly, her wrinkled hands trembling as she offered a gentle nod.

  “Thank you... but are you two alright?” she asked, concern etched into every word.

  The old man, by contrast, looked tougher his back was slightly hunched from labor, and his eyes held the weight of someone who had seen this kind of violence before. Still, he nodded with respect.

  “Appreciate the help... but next time, don’t go around beating random folks. They were probably starving. We all are, in the slums. But still... thank you.”

  Genki paused. The man’s words struck something. He hadn't really thought it through. He’d just seen two frail people being robbed and acted on instinct, on emotion on anger.

  He looked down at his bruised knuckles, then at the three thieves still groaning in the dirt. His expression softened with guilt.

  “Yeah… I get it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I didn’t think that far. Still... I couldn’t just stand there.”

  He sighed and turned to Emma, trying to break the tension.

  “Alright. Maybe we should, uh... leave before they wake up?”

  Emma gave a short nod and crossed her arms.

  “Yeah. Definitely don’t want to be here when round two starts.”

  The two of them gave one last glance to the old couple who now had their food returned, clutching it close and then quietly walked off, disappearing into the broken streets of Port Amarin.

  As they moved deeper into the slums, the sounds of chaos faded into the background. Emma eventually pointed at a rusted iron gate half-covered in tangled wires and scrap.

  “Here we are,” she said. “Welcome to the workshop.”

  Genki stared at the building. It was a large, metal shack, patched together from salvaged parts—panels, steel beams, and pieces of old vehicles. A faded sign hung above the door, almost unreadable. Strange tools and engine parts were stacked outside, along with a broken flying engine half-buried in junk.

  It smelled like grease and smoke.

  Emma shoved the door open with her foot and stepped inside, the hinges creaking as the metal slab swung inward.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said, waving him in. “I’ve got water, soap, and maybe even something clean for you to wear… if you don’t mind smelling like engine oil.”

  Genki stepped in behind her, scanning the workshop. The interior was just as chaotic as the outside cluttered with parts, half-finished machines, wiring tangled across toolbenches, and an engine hoisted from the ceiling with chains. The air was thick with mechanical dust and heat.

  He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

  For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt something close to comfort.

  “Alright, finally,” he muttered, dropping his weight onto a nearby metal stool. His tracksuit was still damp with mud and sweat. “We’ve reached the place. So, what do you have in store for me, Emma? Something to make me money, I hope, right?”

  Emma smirked as she pulled off her gloves, tossing them onto the worktable with a heavy clatter.

  “Depends. You any good with tools? Engines? Scavenging? Because that’s all we’ve got around here honest, boring work.”

  Genki chuckled dryly, then winced his ribs still ached from the earlier scuffle.

  Emma noticed and leaned against the wall, finally letting her posture relax. She rubbed her shoulder with a low groan. A faint bruise was starting to form on her arm from when the thief had grabbed her.

  They were both scuffed, scraped, and sore.

  But alive.