"They said astrology defines everything, including how people behave and live their daily lives."
—Aquarii born between January 20th and February 18th have the greatest luck in love, work, and money! No matter how improbable things may seem, only good things will happen! So why not try your luck at the lottery today? Just don't get too cocky and start dating three or four girls at once. It might be tempting, but it's a bad idea! Women are rather vengeful, regardless of their type!
Of course, this was according to the advertisement commercial for men's perfume.
If that were really true, wouldn't everyone born between January and February be filthy rich and constantly lucky?
Even though Casey Shaw knew the entire concept of astrology was laughable at best, he still couldn't help but be dumbfounded by the situation he found himself in.
It was July 27th, the eight days into summer break.
Yet somehow, things had already spiraled completely out of control. First, his room had turned into a furnace thanks to a broken air conditioner. Then, a violent lightning storm struck the city late at night, frying all the electrical appliances in his room. That meant everything, from his fan to his computer, was officially dead. But it didn't stop there. The blackout also knocked out his refrigerator, which resulted in all his food spoiling overnight. To make matters worse, when he finally reached for the emergency rations he'd been saving, he discovered they had already rotted, probably a few days before the storm even hit.
There was only one option left: eat outside.
But Casey wasn't thrilled about that idea.
Just yesterday, he'd been relentlessly hunted down by some lunatic who nonchalantly launched wind and plasma attacks like it was his hobby. He barely survived by enduring the assault until the guy ran out of steam. So, understandably, he wasn't eager to step outside unless absolutely necessary.
And no, that wasn't his introverted side talking. Who knew what kind of psycho was lurking around the corner? After all, this was Foundation City, a place crawling with tons and tons of psykers!
Thinking about everything piling up on his shoulders, Casey let out a long, defeated sigh.
"...I get it. I really do. But why does it feel like my life is heading straight off a cliff?"
Apparently, horoscopes were a load of crap. Despite being born in February, Casey had never once experienced anything even remotely close to "heavenly good fortune." That kind of luck just didn't exist in his world. But it wasn't like he was cursed by some ancient bloodline misfortune either. On the contrary, his father was a multimillionaire thanks to a string of successful business ventures and his mother had once won fourth place, about $50,000, in the lottery, and even beat the odds on vending machine roulettes repeatedly.
In other words, luck definitely existed in his family.
Just... not for him.
Casey Shaw was simply unlucky. But if he chalked up every little misfortune to being "just unlucky," he knew he'd eventually grow lazy, complacent, and bitter.
And despite everything, Casey wasn't the type to give up that easily.
Unmotivated as he might seem, he had plenty of drive. He just didn't care whether he was lucky or not.
"... Now then. Since my fridge contents are completely fried, it looks like I have to buy some groceries along with some electrical appliances to replace the rest. But I can't just leave this place like this."
Casey scratched his head as he took in the pathetic state of his room. Empty alcohol cans were scattered across the floor, mixed in with half-read books and crumpled pages. To make matters worse, he'd forgotten to unplug his laptop the night before. Now it was completely fried, still resting lifelessly on his bed. Unfortunately, it hadn't been cheap.
He sighed again as if trying to physically exhale the weight of his own misfortune. His room now looked like the aftermath of a bad hangover and a small natural disaster rolled into one.
Surprisingly, the reason behind the mountain of empty alcohol cans wasn't because he enjoyed drinking, it was because he had a high alcohol tolerance. Getting drunk was nearly impossible for him. According to the scientists of Foundation City, this resistance stemmed from subtle alterations in his body chemistry. While his physiology was nearly identical to that of a normal human, it was just different enough to matter. This difference was the result of the psychic power development Curriculum. Beginning at the age of fifteen, students would have drugs injected directly into their bloodstream, and electrodes driven through their ears deep into the brain. If the procedure was successful, they would gain the ability to bend a spoon without using their hands, regardless of their overall psychic level.
That was why, even though he was officially listed as a Level 0 Psychic and essentially powerless, his body was still fundamentally different from that of an ordinary person.
But how was he going to cope if he couldn't get drunk?
"... Well, I better get started."
Understanding the situation, Casey stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a few trash bags, and began collecting the scattered garbage and empty cans strewn across the floor. The cleanup took roughly thirty minutes, but by the time he was done, the place looked noticeably tidier.
Then, after setting the bags aside, he started arranging and rearranging what little was left intact in his room. The books went into a stack, the crumpled pages into a second trash bag, and the ruined laptop, he hesitated. For a moment, he simply stared at it, wondering if maybe it could be salvaged. Then the cracked screen flickered faintly, released a pitiful bzzt noise and let out a puff of smoke.
"...Yeah. You're done."
Casey picked it up and gently placing it into the pile marked tech graveyard in the corner of his closet.
With that out of the way, he finally slumped into his chair. To be more accurate, what remained of it. One of the legs had been unstable for a while, and now it creaked like a dying bird whenever he shifted his body weight. Still, it held together just long enough for him to sit down, lean back, and stare at the ceiling with the dead eyes of a man who'd already lived through ten mid-life crises before twenty.
"Okay... let's break this down," he muttered aloud, lifting a hand to count on his fingers.
"One: I need a new laptop. Two: a new fan, or better yet, a working air conditioner. Three: groceries. Four: batteries, for everything. Five: possibly a taser, in case that overrider bastard from yesterday comes back."
Suddenly, he paused.
Come to think of it, what good would a taser, or even a handgun, be against someone who could manipulate and alter any phenomenon at will?
"...Maybe I should go with a helmet and body armor instead," he muttered. "Though, the helmet's doable... but where the hell am I supposed to find body armor? And even if I do find some, wouldn't it just slow me down?"
Casey scratched the back of his head and let out a weary sigh, realizing that thinking any further was pointless.
Now that his room was somewhat clean, he could carry on with his other objectives. However, groceries took first priority especially breakfast. And for the sake of power development, he had to take two doses of "Methurine" and "Vitacrine" a day. Doing that on an empty stomach certainly won't be ideal.
As he changed out of his pajamas into something more presentable; a black hoodie, brown cargo pants, and a pair of white-and-black sneakers, Casey recalled there was a convenience store not far from his apartment. Due to the previous day's chaos, his whole body was sore and aching all over, thus, leaving him far from peak condition. Even so, he forced himself to think positively.
What's there to be afraid of? It's not like I'm going to get attacked again today, right? The chances of running into that guy after yesterday are pretty low. He probably won't show his face again, at least not if he wants to save face.
His mood rose up to the point he took a deep breath and muttered:
"Today will certainly be nice for a walk. By the way, I need the exercise."
With his spirits slightly lifted, Casey Shaw opened the door, hoisted up the trash bags, and stepped outside, only to be greeted by a beautiful, cloud-dotted sky. The apartment building stood seven stories tall, and his unit, Room 404, was located on the fourth floor. The view from here was actually pretty nice… though not quite the right angle to peek under a girl's skirt. Not that he'd do something like that.
Unlike your typical manga protagonist, Casey wasn't a pervert.
…Well, maybe just a little. He was a healthy young man, after all.
Lost in thought, he suddenly felt something soft squish beneath his foot. He looked down to see a burrito, still in its plastic wrapping, flattened on the floor. It must've been one of the casualties from the ruined refrigerator.
"Ah, man… I was gonna eat it while watching that new Slenderman movie."
He paused, then sighed.
"Oh, right... I don't have a laptop anymore. That sucks."
Grimacing, he made his way toward the elevator. As he waited, his gaze wandered downward and that's when he noticed a black futon.
"...?"
At first glance, there was nothing particularly strange about seeing a futon. But its location was what made it odd. Down below, among piles of trash and discarded junk near the building's garbage dump, the futon stood out, looking relatively clean, maybe even recently abandoned.
Why would someone throw away a perfectly good futon? I get ditching stuff you don't need, but a futon? That thing looks decent...
Wait... is it... moving?
His brows furrowed.
Narrowing his eyes, he realized it wasn't a futon at all.
It was a person, wrapped in black clothing, lying completely still among the trash.
"Eh?!"
He let out a dumbfounded noise, frozen for a moment.
Snapping out of it, he rushed down the stairs. Reaching the garbage dump, Casey cautiously approached the mysterious figure. As he drew closer, the details became clearer.
A woman dressed entirely in black. It ws mysterious, without a doubt. Like him, she appeared to be in her early twenties, give or take. Her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so, more grayish-white than ivory. At first, he thought her hair shared the same pallor.... No, black. Short, with straight-cut bangs. Though her facial features remained unclear, he could tell she was cloaked in a long black robe.
But why did it look so familiar?
"Those robes... Is she a sister?"
By "sister," he didn't mean a sibling, but a nun of the church. Looking closer, the robe reached all the way to her ankles and included a hood. Its plainness and deep black color left little doubt, it closely resembled the habit worn by nuns. More than anything, it was way too simple. Even the cheap clothes worn by delivery men had more taste. As Casey continued to stare at the strange girl, her dress reminded him of black coffee: dark, bitter, and strangely calming.
Forget all that, why was a sister laying in a garbage dump instead of the Church?
Concerned, Casey moved closer and stopped at a comfortable distance before asking:
"Hey, hey? Are you okay?"
Only the girl's fingertips twitched. Then, with a groan, she raised her head slowly and looked at him.
"...?!"
Inadvertently, his entire body froze over
The girl...
She was breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn't an exaggeration. He had never seen anyone like her. If someone had told him such a person was lying in the trash, he would've laughed in their face. Even so, despite her beauty, an uneasy feeling crept over him. The more he looked at her face, the stronger that strange sensation became. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was devilishly beautiful, so perfect it felt unnatural.
And beyond that, there was a certain dignified aura surrounding her. It was like standing before someone inherently superior. Not that the feeling was unfamiliar to him.
However, that wasn't what made Casey Shaw so flustered.
Taking everything into account, the girl was, without a doubt, a foreigner. Very few outsiders were ever accepted into Foundation City, especially considering its isolated location in the Pacific Ocean. Even though thorough scans were conducted at the entrance, he always made sure to stay away from them, just as his English teacher had advised.
"I...!"
"I...!"
The girl parted her dry lips, attempting to say something, but her captivating voice came out more hoarse than he expected.
"What?" Casey blinked and leaned in slightly. "Did you say something just now?"
"I'm..."
She tried again, putting a little more strength into her voice but before she could finish, a low growl from her stomach interrupted her. Her eyes widened, flustered and clearly embarrassed.
Just like that, Casey understood everything.