Shop 3.2

Test

Chapter 3.2. Onigiri In The Wilderness

Now, I silently select the SHOP section in my mind, and even though I haven't moved my fingers, it's selected. Telepathic control, huh? Pretty high-tech.

A list appears:

Water (10 liters) = 1 yen

Symbol = 100 yen

Toothbrush = 184 yen

Toothpaste = 161 yen

Razor = 984 yen

Underwear (boxer) = 797 yen

Inner shirt (running) = 691 yen

Socks = 300 yen

Y-shirt = 1690 yen

Notebook PC = 52790 yen

Mechanical pencil = 100 yen

Ballpoint pen = 100 yen

Pencils (1 dozen) = 333 yen

Utility knife = 315 yen

Notebook = 1300 yen

Eraser = 80 yen

Tea (5 liters) = 1 yen

PET bottle (500ml) = 70 yen

Wristwatch = 19800 yen

Smartphone = 49800 yen

Mobile battery = 3750 yen

Weekly manga magazine (Attack) = 255 yen

Gastrointestinal medicine = 1899 yen

Antidiarrheal = 766 yen

Cold medicine = 1699 yen

Lighter = 100 yen

Glasses = 4900 yen

1-day contact lenses (1 week supply) = 1980 yen

Leather shoes = 3780 yen

Suit = 39000 yen

Carry bag (hard backpack) = 19200 yen

Business cards (100 pieces) = 490 yen

Business card holder (aluminum) = 540 yen

Handkerchief = 100 yen

Long wallet (synthetic leather) = 2480 yen

Pocket tissues (manga cafe promotion) = 5 yen

Candy (strawberry) = 8 yen

Candy (lemon) = 8 yen

Bed (wooden) = 78000 yen

Spring mattress = 24480 yen

Sheets = 1280 yen

Blanket = 4990 yen

Blanket cover = 2490 yen

Pillow = 1980 yen

Wow.

That's quite something that came out.

Basically, it seems like the items on the list are things I had or touched when I died. No, when I was on the verge of dying.

What's the deal with 5 liters of tea?

Pencils come in a dozen, and business cards come in a set of 100. Business cards are cheap.

Hey!

There are no cigarettes!

I demand a do-over!

Huh?

Wait, I didn't have water, did I?

Why is only water added?

Because I strongly wished for it?

Let's try it.

"Hand-rolled sushi, onigiri, seaweed, cod roe with mayo, chicken. Onigiri, onigiri, onigiri..."

-Approval granted. Additional items have been added to the SHOP-

Oh!

I quickly check the SHOP list. Onigiri (seaweed) = 120 yen, 'Onigiri (cod roe)' = 130 yen, 'Onigiri (chicken with mayo)' = 110 yen. They have been added!

I grip all the change and bills I have, and they disappear from my hand, changing the displayed funds to 24,787 yen.

Since I'm at it, let's order three types of onigiri and some tea. Wait, I have 5 liters of tea, so let's add PET bottles to avoid wasting it. I added 9 bottles to the one I already have. Yeah.

Now, there are 9 PET bottles (empty) in the container list.

After finishing the water in the used PET bottle, I imagine storing it in the container. It disappears from my hand, and 'PET bottle (empty)' is added to the container list.

In this state, when I purchase tea, I hear the emotionless voice say, -Is it acceptable to use all available containers?- I agree, and the container display changes to 'PET bottle (tea)'.

I take one out and drink it; it's pleasantly chilled tea.

Next, I try to purchase 'Onigiri (seaweed)'. The container shows the icon and text for 'Onigiri (seaweed)'. Upon closer inspection, it seems I can switch the display method between icon-only, text-only, size change, and sorting functions. When I take it out, it's wrapped in the usual convenience store plastic.

Hmm, hmm. Even after eating, it's exactly like a convenience store onigiri.

Great, I've secured at least the basics of a meal.

Continuing, I try to order 'Onigiri (cod roe)' = 130 yen and 'Onigiri (chicken with mayo)' = 110 yen, but an emotionless voice interrupts me.

-The container is full.-

What? Looking at the container, there are 9 bottles of tea and cod roe onigiri displayed, but there's no chicken with mayo. It seems the maximum number of items in the container is 10. When I take out the cod roe and try to select chicken with mayo again, it fits into the container. My funds are now 23,796 yen, so it doesn't seem like I was charged extra.

However, considering the remaining Japanese yen, it won't last forever. 

I can't buy things like a bed.

This is a useless list, damn it.

I sit on a convenient rock and alternate between bites of onigiri and sips of tea. 

Under the glaring sun, sand dust dances, and in the distance, the cries of birds echo faintly. The wind rustles the nearby bushes, creating a soothing sound.

Somehow, this isn't too bad.

I've spent several years in a black company, tirelessly grinding away at work, bowing to clients, bowing to complaint recipients, bowing to delivery destinations, bowing to stores, bowing to colleagues, bowing to superiors, bowing to general affairs, and dealing with unreasonable demands. All for a low salary.

Sleeping only 4 hours a day.

I've been living that kind of life.

Maybe that's why, but for some reason, I feel strangely relaxed.

"Well then, let's go."

I step out into the unchanging scenery.