The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [81]

“Hehe, don’t just admire me—what comes next is the real point.”

“Oh?”

“As for why I said you don’t have to worry about repeating the same fate in this life, it’s because the me in this world had already passed the age when I was injured in my eyes, yet didn’t encounter the same accident that left me blind.”

“So you avoided the accident?”

“No. The ‘split’ happened even earlier—she lived a life completely different from mine.”

Tashiro Benika touched her eyes, relieved that the self of this world had never lost her sight.

“In this world, from the very start, I chose a different path. She didn’t go into a cosmetics company, but instead chose a more niche profession… have you ever heard of an rikenshi before?”

“Oh, I know—like a mortician, right? The kind who applies makeup to the dead.”

Kuroba Akira had once seen a Japanese drama called The Mortician, which was all about this line of work—using makeup techniques to restore a dead person’s face to how it looked when they were alive, comforting the family, letting them bid farewell, and allowing the funeral to proceed smoothly.

“That’s right. Some people die in terrible condition, and their families want to give them a dignified funeral. They hope the mortician can restore their face and body to wholeness…”

So that’s why her Makeup skill was as high as LV4.

Tashiro-san already had the relevant talent, and with such a specialized job, her proficiency would naturally rise fast.

Applying makeup to the dead was far harder than to the living—it was practically in the realm of special effects makeup.

“But there are very few people in this field, while the demand is high. It often required me to go to hospitals at night for body makeup, so I built up a lot of mental stress…”

“I can understand that. But Tashiro-san, you should still try to drink less in the future.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let myself drink that much again. Can’t expect a good guy like you to carry me home every time, right? Hehe.”

She reached over and affectionately rubbed Kuroba Akira’s head, as if he really were her younger brother.

“Come to think of it, even just from our upbringing, we were bound to live different lives in this world, weren’t we? After all, in our past lives, we were living in a country across the sea…”

At that point, Akira suddenly noticed something important.

From what she’d been saying, Tashiro-san seemed to be thinking of her transmigrated self as still herself.

If she’d simply woken up in someone else’s body, she wouldn’t be so naturally integrated into the new identity.

“Wait—are you saying, Tashiro-san, that in your case too, you ‘transmigrated but were still yourself’?”

“‘Still yourself after transmigration’?”

“As in—you didn’t become someone else. You were still in your original body, only younger!”

“That’s right. I really did get to relive my youth. Though my name changed a little—in my past life I was called ‘Tian Hongxiang’…”

“Ah! Me too! I was called Bai Yu Ming!”

Akira jumped to his feet, excited.

Exactly the same as him!

Finally—a shared point in their transmigration cases!

So Hijikata-san too…?

Everyone had transmigrated into “another world’s version of themselves,” not into a stranger.

“No wonder Kobayashi-obaasan sometimes calls you ‘Shirako.’ I was wondering where that nickname came from… hehe, why don’t I call you Shirako too from now on?”

“Let’s not. So… Tashiro-san, how old were you in your past life?”

“Asking a lady’s age is very rude, you know.”

“Uh—sorry. But it’s actually important. I want to see if transmigration follows any patterns… and please stop treating me like a kid. In my past life I was thirty, after all.”

“Only thirty? That’s still young.”

“…”

Thirty is young…?

Which means, in her past life, Tashiro-san must have been—

She caught Akira narrowing his eyes at her, and with a mix of exasperation and amusement, pinched his nose.

“Don’t look at me like that. In my past life I was just an unmarried girl of 18 years… and 250 months.”

“…”

That’s… nearly thirty-nine.

And the current Tashiro-san was twenty-four—fifteen years younger.

Which meant the age change after transmigration was consistent!

This was a huge discovery—if there really was a pattern to transmigration, maybe someday they could figure out how it happened at all.

Watching Akira’s excitement, Tashiro Benika hugged her knees.

“You know, I actually thought you’d be a cold, aloof person…”

“Huh? Why would you think that? I’m nothing like ‘cold and aloof.’”

Akira felt a bit baffled. He’d never tried to put on a high-cool persona.

Granted, in his first term of high school he barely spoke a word, so classmates thought he was a difficult, unapproachable type—but at the Kobayashi household, he acted normally.

“Because you rarely talk to us. Today’s the first time we’ve really had a long conversation.”

“Uh…”

With his fellow transmigrators in the house, he couldn’t use “language barrier” as an excuse.

They all understood Chinese.

And yes—his conversations with them had always stayed superficial.

How to put it… at first, he’d thought of them more like “coworkers.”

Acquainted, but not close.

“I’m guessing you still haven’t gotten used to your ‘new identity.’ And in your past life, you were probably the kind who didn’t want to rely on others, didn’t want too many ties.”

“…”

She’d nailed it. Completely.

“Because I’m the same kind of solitary, self-reliant person, I could recognize it in you. Especially after my eye injury, I became even more withdrawn… But I’m guessing you were popular with girls in school, right, Akira?”

“Not at all.”

“Really? Don’t lie to your onee-san.”

“Really… And why would you think I’d be popular?”

“Because sensitive girls can sense right away that you’re different. They’re drawn to that mature, slightly mysterious air you have. At this age, they love mysterious, melancholy types like you.”

“Ohh…”

So that’s why the class rep and Shion had such high initial favorability toward him?

…Then maybe he did have a bit of mature man’s charm after all?

“Ugh… ah… Akira…”

“Uh?”

“I suddenly feel… not so good… like I can’t hold it in… mmph!”

Tashiro-san clutched her mouth, her face turning pale.

The second day after a hangover always brought nausea—she was starting to retch.

“Wait, wait! Hold on! Tashiro-san—let’s get you to the bathroom!”

He managed to get her to the toilet just in time before she threw up, holding her and patting her back to help.

In any case, the conversation with Tashiro-san had given him a lot of valuable information.

Most importantly—that even after transmigration, they were still themselves.

Which meant he might not have “stolen Kuroba Akira’s life” after all.

The self of this world was himself—just living a completely different life.

—

This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!