Anything But THAT

If you were to ask me what happened last time, there's only one answer that I can give you.

Where did that Kaiju go? Where did that comically large abomination of an insect disappear after I opened the Dimensional Rift? Is it tasty to cook?

Well, let me tell you a secret that no one knows. A secret that even my inner demon completely has to walk in the dark in search of the hint.

.

What? Why are you still here?

Seriously? You thought that I have any idea where did it go?

Rather, you thought it was because of me, but it's actually Dio-

.

Ahem, okay, my intrusive thought wins. I won't bring irrelevant reference anymore into my train of thoughts.

To be honest, even I don't have any idea where it disappeared. That's the point. Amongst numerous First-Class Kaijus that I'd taken down before, not even a single one of them I know what happened to them after that.

As if they're completely erased and sent to the backrooms of this world. Raving with their fellow sea insects. Having fun on an island for themselves even.

But, from all my experiences after initiating the Dimensional Rift, one thing is certain. And it happened also today like any other time before.

I was walking all on my own to where the main forces are stationed. Racking my brain in tranquility to handle the troublesome professor in today's class. Savoring every single second of the calm before the impending storm.

Despite it was still quite a distance I could already see the troops packing their stuff, parked Crawlers, Ravagers resting, and Mia waving her hands at me.

Right, I have to thank her for the shoes. Well, for the shotgun… I think it got transferred along with the Kaiju, unfortu-

"Surprise attack!"

Someone jumped on me suddenly for a surprise attack while ironically shouting in surprise.

I swerved to the side, turning my body to see the assailant coming from my behind. When I lift my head, the impending nuisance is already happening.

Left and right, up and below, where are these swarming journalists coming from!? But who even gives these journalists invisibility cloaks? Whom to command them to ambush me?

I mean, HELLO? PERSONAL SPACE??

I was sure that Mia has told me that the area in a radius of 1 Kilometer was already clear. Ready for Dimensional Rift. Not even a single life in sight. They were escorted, transported, escalated to underground, or something of some sort, not my business. Anything to get them away from the impact radius.

Seriously, you all people won't even get an extra penny from the media for poking your nose this fast.

Nonetheless, they don't care.

"About this whole situation with the Kaiju, what do you have to say about, Mister Daniel?"

"Mister Daniel, is it true that one of our helicopters crashed into your apartment?"

"Mister Daniel, is it true that you're planning to attend the Weapon Prototype Test on a later date? How do you feel about it"

"Mister Daniel Jumantara, please take a photo of me and the SKEF."

"SURELY YOU COULD ASK BETTER THAN THAT??" I yelled out of exasperation at that particular journalist.

I can't be bothered with these people. I got an assignment to do. I have a suit to take off.

Up until this point, the smoldering heat of the suit after Overclock had caught up with my ignorance Moreover with these people pressuring their bodies, I feel completely overwhelmed.

To be frank, I feel sorry for each turkey on Thanksgiving every year.

Well, whatever.

"Overclock."

.

<Overclock initiated. The Limiter has been temporarily removed>

<Current exertion rate: 500%>

<Time left in Overclock state: 3 seconds>

.

For every important occasion. For every emergency moment. At moments like this, my grandpa told me, to hold onto the family secret principle.

Even when it means the burden and guilt will weigh one's body for the entire life.

"He's running away."

"I-Is that a Jo-"

"Get him, everyone!"

With all the energy the suit has, I hasten the movement of both feet, until I can see the proud grandpa's face lingering in my eyes.

Wait, isn't this what you call, life flashes before your eyes??

.

.

That last rush to the apartment sure did drain every last my stamina and suck me dry.

Although I overclocked, I had to take off and cache the suit before the timer ran out. In the end, the primitive method of transportation is the best. My legs.

I mean, who wants to be stuck inside layers of metal and Kevlar for 80 hours ahead?

Don't ask for the details of how I know the exact duration of that toilet-ban session. Because we all can agree, that experience is the best teacher.

What's important now, I'm all alone to enjoy this time of bliss.

"It's done, and It smells so good!"

No, that's not my secretion liquid, of course. Rather, edible stuff that I was praising. My hard work. My joy of life.

It's safe to say this one is praise worth, considering how I put my life on the line just to have breakfast

To hell with how people would see me talking by myself all alone in this shipwreck apartment. All that I care about is this Nasi Goreng ready for me to devour.

"Selamat makan!" I said to myself while shoving down a spoonful of my breakfast.

How long has it been since I make this? Mother's recipe surely is taking me back to the past. Good thing I learned it before living alone.

Feels like I'm in my hometown all over again. The time when all I only know about is playing with friends and studying for school.

No work. No fame. No press chasing. No meetings. Just eat sleep repeat.

I used to say that phrase all the time when I was little. Mother especially would always beam up hearing it. Even though I feel kinda cringe now to say it all by myself, with this grown-up body and raspy voice, it brings back memories and comfort.

Right… about today's assignment…

"Did you call me, Master?"

Kanya comes closer as I'm still busy with my plate. That small automaton is as perceptive as ever reading my mind. Its robotic head tilts left and right, with ears twitching while waiting for me to swallow the meal in my mouth.

"Make presentation slides, Kanya. Topic, Diachronic Media Marketing. Put some theories in it, and also, under 10 slides. But make it as comprehensive as possible." I ordered her, scooping the last mouthful. "Please don't take too long."

I only have 50 minutes before the class starts, or so told the clock on the screen of this dining table. Changing with Kanya's work progress after that, screen sharing for me to supervise. I sigh heavily, I really hope I'll be able to cut it close.

"Why not, absent for good, just for today, Mister Dani?"

*Clank!*

I jumped out of the surprise. Even my left knee hit the table with a loud noise to follow. I whip my neck to the left, only to find Michelle already standing next to me.

"When did- Of course not! Don't wanna miss any assignment on this term." I snarled at her. I barely even noticed the noise of the teleportation device processing her appearance. Too absorbed in this assignment thingy.

"But, you look kind of pale and exhausted, sir" She added, "Should I take care of your condition at the moment, or the corresponding professor right now?"

"Michelle, anything but Hitman mode." I shiver looking at her poker face. Despite it's been quite a time since she's being my aide, I never know what's going on inside her head. "No need to… rather, how about those journalists? Did you send them off?"

She nodded, "They said something big is happening, and they have to go get new equipment for the news. So, I escort them while the cleaning team handles your apartment." I followed her gaze. The helicopter parked haphazardly on my window isn't there anymore. Still, it's a mess.

"Good grief. You didn't fancy them a bit, did you?"

"Of course, sir. They supposedly won't get near or interrupt your morning with news reporting for the time being, as usual. Don't worry, I assume the cars in your collection will be enough?"

"So you DID fancy them a bit too much…!?" I impulsively facepalmed. Letting out a long sigh. "This is no good, Michelle." I shook my head.

"Then, should I take them out then?"

"MICHELLE! ANYTHING BUT HITMAN MODE!"

*PING!*

The sound of the transmitter echoed in my ear. A message just came in. Immediately projected at the dining table screen. Both Michelle and I read it carefully.

"The class… will be started 30 minutes earlier…" I chuckled pathetically.

"Master, my work is done!"

"Great, Kanya. Thanks."

I swiftly stood up and snatched my E-Gauntlet, something on par with a smartphone a hundred years ago, complete with a screen. Transferring the file from Kanya before giving it a head pat as I leave it.

"Mister, should I escort you?" Soon, Michelle tails my step right before I twist the front door handle.

"I'm good. I'll just take a shuttle bus."

"Considering the press and journalists that had been annoying you since early morning, wouldn't it be better if I escort you in private?"

She got a point. It'll be pointless to show up in public again, after all those efforts to escape and hide from them. All will be in vain if that's the case.

"Right… I'll be in your care then." I turned at her.

"Then, allow me to show you the selection of cars for your chariot today, sir. Or, would it be better to bring the whole cla-"

"MICHELLE! FOR GOD SAKE, NO!"