Corrupted Save File, Ghost's Pottery Class, and Kamen Rider's Singularity

Lu Ren was dragged home that night.

Literally dragged. If they hadn't been on a public street, Kiyosawa Mashiba would have probably grabbed him by the ankles and hauled him back like a sack of potatoes. Even so, as the "victor" of the match, Lu Ren was no different from a salted fish. The only difference was that a salted fish wouldn't grunt like a dying pig with every step.

Dinner was braised pork, specially prepared by Comrade Lu Jianguo, and the portion was large enough to feed a Siberian brown bear. Lu Ren sat at the dinner table, mechanically moving his chopsticks, shoveling high-calorie protein and fat into his stomach. The system indicated his stamina was slowly recovering, but that bone-deep fatigue—the so-called "Stiff Animation" status—stubbornly remained on his status bar.

After dinner, the interrogation session arrived as scheduled.

Lu Ren lay face down on the bed, burying his face in the pillow, emitting a muffled groan.

"Gently... Big sister, are you trying to take my spine apart and build blocks with it?"

Kiyosawa Mashiba knelt beside him, her elbow mercilessly grinding into the erector spinae muscles on his back. The force was nothing like what a high school girl should possess; it was more like a Michelin-starred chef tenderizing beef.

"Shut up. If you don't work out the lactic acid buildup, you'll only be able to crawl to school tomorrow." Mashiba's voice came from above, accompanied by a crisp joint pop. "Endure it."

"Ah—!!"

Lu Ren cried out. This wasn't massage; it was torture for a prisoner of war.

Half an hour later, the "repair" was complete.

Lu Ren felt like a Gundam model that had been disassembled and reassembled. All the parts were there, but the connections felt loose and precarious. He lay on the bed like a puddle of mud, lacking the strength to even move a finger.

Mashiba wiped the sweat from her forehead, skillfully retrieved a disc from the bookshelf, and inserted it into the VCR. She didn't leave either, instead sitting cross-legged on the carpet by the bed, leaning against the edge.

The TV screen lit up, and the classic black-and-white opening flashed across it.

Ghost.

"Classics are classics because they're worth rewatching," Mashiba said without looking back, her eyes fixed on the screen. "And this is a newly purchased Blu-ray Remastered Edition."

The room fell silent, with only the movie's background music and their shallow breaths filling the air.

Lu Ren stared at the ceiling, his vision slightly unfocused. Though his body was resting, his mind was still replaying the match. The impact of the volleyball against his arm, the screech of his shoes on the floor, and Kageyama Tobio's eyes that seemed ready to devour him.

That feeling... he didn't dislike it.

In fact, it was the first time in a long time that he felt a sense of being "alive."

On screen, the classic pottery class scene began. The male protagonist hugged the female protagonist from behind, their hands overlapping as they molded the clay. The scene was incredibly romantic, and the background music, Unchained Melody, played at the perfect moment.

"How does it feel?" Mashiba suddenly asked.

Lu Ren blinked, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to the back of Mashiba's head.

"How does what feel? This movie? The picture quality is definitely clearer than the old VCD, you can even see the wrinkles on Sam's face..."

"You know I'm not asking about that."

Mashiba interrupted him. She turned her head, her chin resting on the edge of the bed, her eyes shining eerily in the dim light.

"I'm asking about volleyball. Or, this feeling of giving it your all."

Lu Ren fell silent. He wanted to crack a joke to brush it off, like "I'm too tired, let's play video games instead" or "The sweat smell is too strong, it doesn't fit my aesthetic." But looking into Mashiba's eyes, those words caught in his throat.

"It was okay, I guess." Lu Ren turned over, avoiding her gaze. "It was just a regular Side Quest. A bit difficult to clear, but the Experience Points dropped were decent."

"Lu Ren."

Mashiba called his name. It wasn't her usual teasing tone, but a rare seriousness.

"I've known you since kindergarten. You, Lu Ren, although you seem like a fun-loving guy on the surface, always talking about 'games' and 'walkthroughs,' as if you don't care about anything..."

She paused, then reached out and gently poked Lu Ren's arm, which was exposed from under the covers.

"But deep down, you're a pessimist, aren't you?"

Lu Ren's body stiffened for a moment.

"All those games, manga, and novels aren't just entertainment for you," Mashiba's voice was soft, yet it felt like a scalpel, precisely dissecting Lu Ren's thick armor of defense. "They're your sanctuary. You treat the real world like a game, slapping labels on everyone, and treating difficulties like Instances, because only then can you convince yourself to keep existing in this world."

Lu Ren remained silent. The flickering light from the TV played across his face, casting shifting shadows.

"What are you hiding from?" Mashiba asked. "What is it that makes you, even after winning a match, even when you're smiling so happily, still have that... look in your eyes, as if you're ready to run away at any moment?"