Chapter 231: Star Hero
Ryū had only limited familiarity with Star Hero. The original animated series had aired something like fifteen to twenty episodes before quietly ceasing to exist. The worldbuilding, plot, and cast had never gotten close to fully developed — possibly not even a quarter of what the creators had intended.
Given how long ago he'd watched it and how incomplete it had been, his memory wasn't sharp. Remembering the general shape of the story and the protagonist's name already put him ahead of most of what he retained from childhood viewing — plenty of other old shows he couldn't even name the lead character of anymore, since most of them belonged to a period of life he hadn't revisited since.
No time to dwell on nostalgia. The new member, not yet officially in the group, was apparently in the middle of a serious crisis. Every minute spent deliberating was a minute that mattered.
He started the dice roll for quest slots immediately — fairness mattered even under time pressure. Quite a few people put their names in this round: himself, Whitebeard, Kizaru, Yukari, Kaguya, the dragon Tohru, the Shiba Thor, and others. With the total reward sitting at only 10,000 Points for eliminating two groups of veteran Reincarnators, the implication was that this batch of Reincarnators wasn't particularly dangerous — possibly because their home Sacred Ground system was low-tier to begin with. That made it accessible even to the Chat Group's mid-tier members, which was why Josuke and Kaguya had both thrown their names in alongside the heavy hitters.
RawrSoFierce: Two slots are decided.
RawrSoFierce: Me at 6, Kaguya at 6.
Eternally Seventeen: …Admin, did you cheat? I rolled a 5 this time, which felt genuinely promising, and then you AND Little Kaguya both hit 6 simultaneously?!
Kaguya-sama: Maybe it's just the Admin's usual good luck.
Edward Newgate: Gurararara — nothing for this old man this round? Though I'll say it — the Admin's luck really is something. Sign-ins, quest slots, consistently top three across the board.
My True Form Is Cola: Kaguya-senpai's luck is also strong — her sign-ins land 50 to 70 Points most days.
Eternally Seventeen: Tears of the unlucky, falling freely…
Eternally Seventeen: I am now seriously suspicious that the Admin is manipulating this behind the scenes, specifically so he and Little Kaguya can have some private time together. What they do with that time, who can say.
Kaguya-sama: Pfft — Yukari-nee, where is your imagination even going?
RawrSoFierce: …I think this youkai sage's emotional state has cracked again.
Eternally Seventeen: Despicable Admin, stealing my luck, stealing my Kaguya — I can't go on. I'm jumping off the moon today.
RawrSoFierce: You sure the people up there won't beat you up first?
Eternally Seventeen: Hmph, I could take her with one hand!
RawrSoFierce: @Kaguya-sama — crossover permission's open. Go ahead.
"…"
Ryū kept chatting while his hands moved without pause — multitasking, opening his own and Kaguya's crossover permissions simultaneously while the conversation continued.
As for why his luck seemed to come up favourably so often — he didn't actually think he was the luckiest in the group. There'd been a joining-quest slot draw once where he'd lost outright, the one for Eriri's arrival, where his roll had come in below Kaguya's. That day was probably the single worst luck stretch he'd had in months.
He set the memory aside and committed the thought.
Less than half an hour after returning from Konoha, his bedroom emptied again.
Kaguya crossed over within a second of him.
In the Star Hero world — Earth, somewhere in the rubble of a demolished structure —
A hand, not especially muscular, pushed up through the debris and gripped something solid. A moment later, a figure in tattered clothing pulled itself free.
The arm's owner coughed hard. Scrapes, bruises, lacerations, burns covered every visible part of him. The structures around him looked like they'd taken a direct hit from something with serious destructive output — blackened surfaces everywhere, small fires still burning in the wreckage.
The figure was a boy. Roughly twelve years old. What remained of his clothing — torn to ribbons by the blast — was enough to identify a red jacket underneath the damage.
Blood at the corner of his mouth, mixed with dust and grit. Broken ribs sent waves of pain through every breath. He understood, with complete clarity, that going down now meant not getting back up.
He forced himself upright through the pain, teeth clenched.
A voice came from behind him — amused, mildly surprised. "Huh? Tenacious little thing, isn't he? Good thing intel said this world's combat capability wasn't trivial — worth bringing the heavy hardware from the Sacred Ground armoury after all."
"That blast must have hurt. You're seriously injured already, aren't you? Tch. Barely past puberty and you're supposed to be the protagonist of something? Well — the mission calls for the Rainbow Stones and your life specifically. We're taking both."
The boy was Maidang, protagonist of the Star Hero world.
The quest description hadn't exaggerated. He was in genuine danger.
He held his jaw tight against the pain. He'd promised his father something, and in pursuit of that promise his self-directed training had gone wrong more than once before, leaving injuries worse than this. He'd learned to function through pain that would have stopped most people.
His eyes stayed locked on the two strangers in front of him. The voice behind him — he registered it but didn't turn. Two ahead, one behind. The two in front were the immediate threat.
He didn't know why these strangers wanted him dead. Their actions had already answered the question of intent.
Trouble. All I did was go out to buy groceries — cough — and now there are three of these. Is this where I die?
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