SWDnovel Chapter 62 Survival of the Fittest
Chapter 62 Survival of the Fittest
In mid-December of 1987, Tokyo's winter was dry and cold.
Suzuki Electronics Factory, Ota Ward.
The air here still carries that familiar, pungent smell of solder, mixed with the burnt odor of heated engine oil.
For Suzuki Amy two years ago, this smell was the source of her inferiority complex, the evidence that she couldn't hold her head up at Seiwa Academy.
But now.
"Sizzle—sizzle—"
A brand-new automated wave soldering machine is running at high speed, firmly soldering precision electronic components onto green PCB boards.
"Amy! That's amazing! Absolutely amazing!"
President Suzuki burst into the office, beaming, waving a faxed order in his hand.
"Nintendo has added 500,000 interface components! They say it's to stock up for next year's game, Dragon Quest III! The unit price is double what it used to be!"
President Suzuki was so excited that his hands were shaking.
"If you hadn't forced me two years ago to use the money from buying that land to upgrade our production line, we would have been kicked out of the supply chain long ago due to insufficient production capacity!"
Amy sat behind that somewhat old desk, holding the latest issue of "Radio Technology" in her hands.
She looked up and pushed up her thick-rimmed glasses.
Although she is still a little chubby, her entire demeanor has completely changed.
She wore a limited-edition off-white cashmere coat from S-Collection, its clean lines perfectly hugging her body. The school skirt that had once made her feel inferior was now hidden beneath the coat, replaced by an aura of confidence.
"Dad, Saionji-kun mentioned it."
Amy closed the magazine.
"The future isn't in the land, it's in the chips. Nintendo is just the beginning. Next up is NEC's PC-Engine, and then Sony... As long as we hold onto this technological barrier, we won't starve even if we don't rely on Nintendo in the future."
"Yes, yes, yes! Miss Saionji is a goddess!"
President Suzuki locked that order in a safe like a precious treasure.
"Amy, didn't you make plans to go to Shinjuku with your classmates tonight? Do you have enough money? Want another 200,000 yen?"
"No need, I have some."
Amy stood up and walked to the mirror.
She sniffed her cuffs.
There was still a faint smell of solder, which was wafting in from the workshop.
But she no longer thought it smelled bad.
That's the smell of money.
It was Satsuki who told her, "The taste of the future."
Since it was Satsuki who said it, it must be true.
Now, she likes that taste.
……
At the same time.
Arakawa District, Machiya.
In the dilapidated wooden apartment, the cold wind blew in through the cracks in the windows.
"Cough cough cough..."
Masami Okura knelt on the tatami mat, wiping her father's hands with a damp towel.
The room was cold, so to save electricity, she only turned on the lowest setting of the electric heater.
Masami Okura, who once acted arrogantly at Seiwa Academy and mocked Suzuki Emi as "poor" and "country bumpkin," is now wearing a pilling old sweater with her hair casually tied back.
My mother absconded with the money and went back to her parents' home. My father's illness nearly depleted our savings, leaving him only with a frail body.
The mansions, sports cars, and designer bags of the past all seem like a dream from a past life.
Now all that's left is endless debt and a never-ending cycle of misery.
"Yami...aren't you going to class?" Masao Okura asked weakly.
"I'll go tomorrow. I have the night shift tonight."
Yamei stood up and took a cheap down jacket off the wall.
"You stay home and rest. Your medicine is on the table. I'm leaving."
She didn't look back at her father's guilty gaze. Because guilt couldn't buy bread, nor could it pay the rent.
Stepping out of the apartment, a cold wind hit me.
Yamei hunched her shoulders and hurried toward the subway station.
She was going to Shinjuku. There was a café there that needed a night shift server, paying 1,200 yen per hour. Although it was tiring and required her to be subservient to people, it was the highest-paying job she could find.
In the reflection of the subway glass, she saw her pale face.
She used to despise people who worked themselves to the bone for a few thousand dollars. She thought that was the life of the lower class.
Now, she has become a lower-class person.
……
Shinjuku, Kabukicho.
The retro-style café "Romance".
This is the favorite hangout for the girls at Sheng Hua Academy after school. A huge crystal chandelier, red velvet sofas, and the air is filled with the aroma of expensive coffee.
Four girls were sitting in the booth by the window.
"Amy, look! This is the Final Fantasy game cartridge I just bought!"
"Hey, stop playing games, Amy! Your coat is so beautiful, is it the limited edition from S-Collection?"
Amy was surrounded.
She sipped her Blue Mountain coffee while casually flipping through the gaming magazine her classmate handed her.
"That game was pretty average," Amy commented casually. "But Nintendo is going to make a big move next month, so you guys better save your allowances, or don't blame me for not warning you."
"Wow! Really? Amy's got the best information!"
A chorus of voices of worship filled the air.
Previously, these people would only fawn over Masami Okura and mock Amy as a "freak".
But ever since Amy became Saionji Satsuki's "sidekick" and demonstrated her astonishing wealth, the tide has turned.
Within this circle, as one of the first to follow Satsuki, she has become a prominent figure on campus.
"Waiter! We'd like some water!"
A girl next to me shouted.
After a while, a figure wearing a brown hat and uniform walked over carrying a water bottle.
She walked very slowly, as if she had some difficulty walking.
"Please...please enjoy your meal."
His voice was hoarse and trembling slightly.
While pouring water, perhaps because she was too tired, or perhaps because she was nervous, her wrist trembled.
"Splash!"
A little hot water splashed out and landed on the table, with even a few drops splashing onto the cuffs of Amy's expensive coat.
"oops!"
The girl next to her screamed, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"How could you do this! Don't you have eyes? This is a 200,000 yuan coat! Can you afford to pay for it if you ruin it?"
The girl stood up to scold him, but Amy stopped her.
"fine."
Amy took out a silk handkerchief and gently wiped her cuffs.
"Just a little water."
She looked up at the waiter.
"Next time, little..."
Before he could finish speaking...
Amy was stunned.
The waiter looked up in a panic, wanting to apologize, but froze the moment he saw Amy's face.
That was once such a proud face.
Always wearing the most fashionable lipstick, always looking down on people.
Okura Masami.
Her face was as pale as paper, and her lips were chapped. The strands of hair peeking out from under her hat were dry, yellow, and split. Her ill-fitting work clothes reeked of cheap dish soap.
A deathly silence.
Several girls around her also recognized her.
The sounds of breathing in echoed one after another.
"My God... is that Okura?"
"Is it really her? How did she end up like this?"
"I heard her dad went bankrupt...tsk tsk, he was so arrogant before, karma's finally caught up with him."
Those whispers were like knives stabbing into Yamei.
Yamei's hands were trembling. The water in the kettle was sloshing.
She wanted to run away.
But my legs felt like they were filled with lead.
She looked at Suzuki Amy sitting there.
The "chubby girl" she once trampled underfoot was now wearing a coat she couldn't afford, adorned with her favorite jewelry, and looking at her with an expression she couldn't understand.
Was that mockery? Was it pity?
If it were the Amy of the past, she would probably have been so frightened that she would have lowered her head.
If it were the old Yami, she probably would have slapped her.
But now.
"Okura-kun."
Amy spoke up.
Her voice was calm, without any hint of sarcasm.
"Are you working here?"
"……yes."
Yamei lowered her head, her voice barely audible. Her fingernails dug deeply into her flesh.
At that moment, all self-esteem was shattered.
She awaited Amy's humiliation. She would accept it even if it meant having a glass of water splashed on her.
But no, it didn't.
Amy simply looked at her, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes.
She remembered that afternoon two years ago under the wisteria trellis.
The girl with obsidian-like eyes told her, "If anyone laughs at your smell again, tell them it's the 'smell of the future'."
just now.
She carries the scent of the future. Masami Okura, on the other hand, carries the scent of the past.
The outcome is decided.
Adding insult to injury would not only be pointless, but would also make one appear petty and embarrass Saionji.
"It's quite tough."
Amy took out five brand-new Fukuzawa Yukichi bills (10,000 yen) from her Hermès wallet.
She didn't throw it away; instead, she gently placed it under the bill.
"Nintendo's new game this month looks pretty fun. If you're not too busy, you can give it a try."
Amy stood up and straightened her coat.
"Keep the change, please."
She picked up her bag and said to the classmate next to her:
"Let's go. Didn't we say we were going to SA KTV? I have a black card, I'll take you to see the legendary 'Ghost Director'."
In fact, any one of the people present could easily book the private room for a whole month, but they still cheered and stood up, crowding around Amy as she walked out.
No one looked at Masami Okura again.
Just like no one would care about a patch of withered moss by the roadside.
Yamei stood there, still holding the heavy water bottle in her hand.
She looked at the 50,000 yen.
Brand new, crisp, and gleaming with the unique luster of money under the light.
Is this charity?
No.
It is more cruel than charity.
That was utter disregard.
In Suzuki Amy's eyes, Okura Masami was no longer a worthy opponent to hate, or even an object to be humiliated.
She was just a passerby.
A waiter.
An insignificant backdrop.
"hehe……"
Yami let out a dry laugh. Tears dripped onto the banknote.
She reached out her rough hand, grabbed the bill, and clutched it tightly in her hand.
It's very hot.
It's so hot it hurts my heart.
But she couldn't throw it away. Because that money was enough for her family's living expenses for almost half a month.
"Welcome..."
The wind chimes at the door rang again.
Yamei wiped away her tears, bent down, and gave the new guest a humble smile.
Under the neon lights of Shinjuku.
Some went to the private rooms of SA KTV to enjoy the solace offered by the ghostly songstress named ZARD. Others stayed in the café, continuing to bend their backs for survival.
And Satsuki Saionji, sitting in the Azabu Juban study, didn't even need to lift a finger.
The tides of time have long since completed this cruel trial for her.
Survival of the fittest, that's all.