Thank You, My Dear Friend

The platinum blonde color of his hair stood out, it was a silvery white color that didn't make his hair look longer, but it made his hair look disheveled.

Ichijō Mirai frowned and switched back to the red color, and after a few moments of scrutinizing it, he still felt that it was visually a bit long and slender, and at a cursory glance it looked like a woman's. He frowned and pulled his hair out.

He frowned, pulled the end of his hair, and pondered, "Can I just pull it out?"

And really tried to pull it out.

There was no way to change the length of the hair without scissors or a dagger.

But it hurt.

At this new point in time, Ichijō Mirai hadn't taken any painkillers yet, so he reluctantly gave up and chose his hair back to platinum blonde, "Okay."

A little bit of gray is fine, but it's obviously male.

After confirming his hair, he was not too comfortable casually rubbing the white fluffy hair, reached out and ran his hand through the broken hair on his right forehead, briefly checking it out for a few seconds, nodding his head in a serious manner, "Okay, there's no bionic round identifier."

"Actually, I wanted to spit it out when I first entered the game, but I just had to pretend that I didn't notice anything strange, so I kept holding back."

Ichijō Mirai spat out, "This game is really good."

System: [...]

It displays the string of apostrophes.

Ichijō Mirai pretends not to see it as he tries to brush his somewhat long hair, quickly giving up as he realizes that the longer he brushes it, the longer his wolf-tail gets, and instead explores his own situation.

He was wearing a baseball jersey, a good jersey, with lots of pockets, each of which could hold a lot of stuff, but there was one problem: the pockets were clean, and there was nothing in them.

No cash, no ID, no guns, no ammo, not even a nail clipper, so clean it's like being a good citizen.

The cell phone is also clean, only a police liaison who just sent a text message, but even the Internet history is clean, the Post-It software is blank, no record of any card numbers and passwords.

"...OK."

Ichijō Mirai didn't think for a moment about whether the Neon Police were just a bad influence, or whether the cash and other materials had disappeared after being on him for more than five minutes.

He decided that it was the former.

He immediately opened the system's enemy screen to check it out, intending to hold a grudge.

Unfortunately, there was no new member added to the enemy screen, but the status of the enemy was updated.

[Gin｜Health｜Very happy｜3 stars].

[Rum｜Healthy｜Very happy｜3 stars].

'Very happy mood'.

When Ichijō Mirai was at the police academy, Gin was still 'happy', but now there's a 'very'.

Why?

He smiled and looked at it a few more times, memorizing it, before opening his friends screen and noticing that Calvados, who wasn't on the enemies list, had also updated his status to.

[Calvados｜Health｜Upset｜3 Stars].

Huh, 'upset'?

"This lady who has too many words in her card," Ichijō Mirai was deeply touched, "I left Tokyo and couldn't hurt her in the short term, and instead of being in a very happy mood like Gin, she's distracted."

"She must have missed me, right?"

Touching!

"As expected, Inuo is different from the cold and heartless guy who doesn't like to smile by nature."

And he looked down again.

Almost all of the statuses on the friends list had been updated, including, of course, some of his classmates from the police academy, but unlike Gin's obviously uplifting and joyful behavior, their statuses were a bit strange: [Morofushi Hiromitsu].

[Morofushi Hiromitsu｜Tired｜Overthinking｜4 stars].

[Kenji Hagiwara｜Sub-healthy｜Leisurely｜3 stars].

[Furuya Rei｜Injured｜Distracted｜3 stars].

[Wataru Date｜Sub-healthy｜Depressed｜3 stars].

These are the strange but understandable ones, and the incomprehensible ones.

[Matsuda Jinpei｜Slightly injured｜Depressed｜4 stars].

This is only for a second, and in the next second, the status is changed: [Hold your breath].

Next second: [Moping].

Next: [Despair].

And the next: [Faith breaking down].

The status stays here for several minutes before refreshing: [Disturbed].

Ichijō Mirai: "???" 

He stares at Matsuda Jinpei's status, a little confused, "Matsuda-san... something on your mind?"

It's weird. One more look, it's still weird. One more look, it's even weirder.

Never mind, the serious police officer who was about to go to the police department wasn't something he could look at too much.

Ichijō Mirai was worried that if he looked at them a few more times, he would obey the pathetic human nature of "If I don't have a good life, you must have a worse life", so he immediately sent a message to the contact person, and started a large-scale recruitment of soldiers, calling out the names of the Death Gods and dragging them into the water one by one.

He pretended he hadn't seen the inconsequential friend alert, and rubbed his hair in a casual, uncomfortable manner, deliberately running his fingers over the corner of his forehead, "Well, not really, at least I don't have the bionic signifier on my forehead."

Though there was a mark on the back of my neck in the form of an almost red mole.

"I'm still not the same as a bionic human, I have an overabundance of kindness, a high sense of morality, a charismatic personality that inspires trust at first sight, and a precious spirit that will never abandon a fellow human being."

While babbling, Ichijō Mirai picked up his cell phone and left the white bathroom, realizing that it was an airport.

As he swept through the airport, he muttered, "It's never illegal."

And he goes on, "Gotta find a way to make a friend."

Gotta find a place to stay and a cute wallet to take care of that most instinctive of human needs.

And then the task of getting in touch with the FBI, or even becoming an FBI investigator.

Bad news: the police require him to deal with the annoying FBI.

Good news: the police didn't ask for it.

Heh heh.

"I'll be polite," Ichijō Mirai prefaced, his eyes flickering as he traveled around the airport, "there are a few staff members."

The gray hair is a significant attraction.

The most obvious is that the staff around him notice Ichijō Mirai, and continue to look at him, if at all, for the rest of the day.

The same goes for passers-by.

There were too many people paying attention to the hair, and Ichijō Mirai frowned, "I can't do it at the airport."

Otherwise, they would be discovered in a short time.

With enough experience, Ichijō Mirai could even roughly estimate the time: five minutes.

He pondered for a moment, and regretfully gave up, "Well, we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way."

"I've spent some time in New York before, and while the city has all sorts of things that make the average citizen unhappy, I'm quite happy with it."

"My greatest satisfaction is the buffet."

By buffet, I mean: "Let me organize the words of a child... Here it is... From now on, I'm the child who 'agrees to meet a friend I've known for a long time on the Internet, and comes with great expectations, only to find out that my friend has cancelled the appointment'."

Ichijō Mirai adds a key piece of information, "Seven years old."

He quickly edits and posts a message that looks like a child's mopey complaint in a small number, and waits patiently.

It wasn't long before his cell phone vibrated.

A person posted a comment similar to 'Wow, you are so pitiful, are you in xxx? By chance, I am also nearby, how about we get to know each other? Your friends don't want to see you, but I do, from now on, we are friends!'

The other person said his age: ten years old.

Ichijō Mirai looked at his message from the time he posted it to the time he received a reply, "Half an hour."

He casually rolled his neck, "Okay, it's still my beloved New York, which for historical reasons can never say no to children, and often has a buffet of biting hooks and falling for them."

and kindly replied, asking him to pick him up at the airport.

An hour later.

Ichijō Mirai intimately wraps his arms around a blonde Inuo-san in his thirties and expertly pushes him into the car, "Okay, I found my car."

"Just take me back to my safe house."

"Thank you," He thanked politely, "my dear friend."