Max_Striker
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Chapter 73: Japan Calling
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 16:10:42 +0000 UTCThe crisp autumn morning bit at Jay's cheeks as he stood on the platform at Tokyo Station, surrounded by the efficient chaos of Japan's busiest rail hub. Commuters in dark suits moved with practiced precision, their synchronized dance a stark contrast to the controlled mayhem of New York's Penn Station.
"Jay-san, you're absolutely certain about this?" Shiro asked for the third time, adjusting his perfectly pressed collar. "The family jet would have you in Osaka in forty-five minutes. First class on the shinkansen is... adequate, I suppose, but—"
"Shiro-san," Jay interrupted, switching to flawless Japanese that made several nearby salarymen do actual double-takes, "the whole point is to experience Japan properly. Besides, I've been dreaming about riding the bullet train for a while now."
The older man's expression softened slightly. "Very well. But if you need anything—"
"I'll call." Jay hefted his travel bag, declining Shiro's offer to have it sent ahead. Some things you had to carry yourself.
The Hikari Super Express arrived exactly on schedule—of course it did—its sleek white nose cutting through the morning air like something that had escaped from a sci-fi movie. The world-renowned bullet train offered the highest rail speeds to match its peerless comfort, and since opening in 1964, the Shinkansen had become just as synonymous with Japan as Mount Fuji, sumo and sushi.
Jay found his reserved seat in the Green Car and settled in for the journey, watching Tokyo's urban sprawl gradually give way to something more traditionally Japanese. About forty minutes out from Tokyo Station, Mount Fuji appeared in the distance, its perfect cone visible for several precious minutes before disappearing behind hills and clouds.
Rice fields stretched out like a patchwork quilt, broken by small towns where red-roofed houses clustered around train stations. Then, industrial centers, their smokestacks reaching toward gray clouds, and finally the sprawling metropolitan area of Osaka rolling out like a sea of concrete and neon.
Jay spent the three-and-a-half-hour journey reviewing what he knew about his target, which was a side quest of his in Japan. Tomoe Ishida, twenty-three, shrine maiden at Shintoji Temple.
She has a dormant Inhuman gene that, when activated, would grant her technoforming abilities—the power to reshape and control technology through thought and will.
In the issue he remembered from the comic book nerd perk, she'd eventually become the head of a Southeast Asian crime syndicate after her terrigenesis, recruited by the Ten Rings for her unique abilities. Jay had absolutely zero intention of letting that particular future come to pass.
His hotel room in Osaka was efficient and modern, with a view of the city's famous castle. Jay secured his belongings—including the cursed Murasama blade—in the room's safe, then headed out into the afternoon sun.
"God, I'd kill for a gamer's inventory system right about now," he muttered, shouldering his bag. Keeping track of gear across multiple cities would become a genuine logistical nightmare.
Osaka Castle was magnificent in the afternoon light, its white walls and gold-accented rooflines standing proud against the modern skyline. Jay spent an hour genuinely appreciating the architecture and the museum exhibits about samurai culture. He was just enjoying being a tourist.
The walk to Shintoji Temple took him through winding streets that seemed to exist in a different century. The shrine sat on a hillside overlooking the city, accessible by a path lined with traditional torii gates—the distinctive gates that marked the entrance to Shinto shrines. The autumn colors were spectacular, reds and golds that seemed to glow in the slanted sunlight.
Near the temple's entrance, he spotted her.
Tomoe was exactly as his comic book knowledge had shown him—early twenties, traditionally dressed in white and red shrine maiden robes, moving with practiced grace as she swept the temple steps. She had the kind of quiet competence that spoke of years of dedication to her duties.
Jay made his approach casual, pretending to admire the intricate woodwork of the temple buildings while gradually working closer. When she bent to collect some fallen leaves, he timed his movement perfectly.
"Excuse me," he said in polite, slightly formal Japanese, "could you tell me about the history of this temple?"
As she straightened to answer, Jay deliberately brushed against her hand while gesturing toward the main building. The contact was brief, seemingly accidental—just another clumsy foreigner not quite understanding personal space.
But it was enough.
In that instant, Jay activated his power theft ability, channeling Sage's gene jumpstart power—which had evolved and upgraded itself to work beyond just X-genes and now functioned on Inhuman genetics as well. He reached out and triggered something deep within her DNA, causing her dormant Inhuman gene to spark to life for just a moment, long enough for him to steal the technoforming power that would have someday emerged. Then, just as quickly, he let that genetic trigger burn itself out completely.
The entire process took less than a heartbeat. She felt nothing—no surge of energy, no hint of transformation. She would never know that she'd been saved from a future wrapped in terrigen mist and crystalline cocoons, never realize how close she'd come to abilities that would have eventually consumed her humanity entirely.
Tomoe swayed slightly, her hand going to her forehead.
"Are you alright?" Jay asked with perfectly genuine concern.
"Yes, I... must have gotten lightheaded from bending down too quickly," she said, blinking slowly. "I'm sorry, what was your question about the temple?"
Jay spent several more minutes in polite conversation about the shrine's history, learning about its founding in the Heian period and its role in protecting travelers. When he finally took his leave, bowing respectfully, Tomoe seemed completely back to normal.
As he walked away, Jay could feel the new power settling into his consciousness like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. Technoforming. In a world increasingly dependent on digital infrastructure, it was arguably one of the most valuable abilities available and was a key power for his desired roster.
He made it halfway down the temple steps before having to stop and lean against a stone railing, barely containing the urge to test his new ability right there. The cell phone tower visible in the distance was practically calling to him, begging to be reshaped and improved.
‘Not here,’ he told himself firmly. ‘Not until I'm somewhere private with proper testing space.’
But damn, if it wasn't tempting.
The sun was setting over Osaka, painting the castle and temple in shades of gold and crimson. Jay paused at a scenic overlook, pulling out his phone to capture the view. Tomorrow would bring new cities, new challenges, and new adventures.
The weeks that followed blurred together like scenes from a dream Jay never wanted to wake from.
Kyoto struck him first. He wandered through the bamboo groves of Arashiyama at dawn, golden light filtering through the green cathedral above. At Kiyomizu-dera, he stood on the famous wooden stage jutting from the temple, the entire city sprawling below in morning mist. The golden pavilion at Kinkaku-ji floated on its reflecting pool like something conjured from pure imagination. But Fushimi Inari truly broke him open—ten thousand vermillion torii gates marching up the sacred mountain in an endless tunnel of red. At the summit, Kyoto spread below him like a map drawn by gods.
Mount Fuji dominated the landscape like a sleeping god. Jay tackled the Yoshida Trail during climbing season, joining the procession of determined hikers making the overnight ascent. The climb was brutal—legs turning to lead, lungs burning in thin air—but dawn from the summit painted the world in gold and rose.
Hot springs became his religion. In Hakone, he soaked in outdoor onsen while snow monkeys did the same nearby. At Kinosaki Onsen, he stayed in a traditional ryokan where dinner was a seventeen-course kaiseki meal that qualified as edible poetry. Cherry blossoms lined the canals, creating tunnels of pink petals that fell like snow.
In Hiroshima, the Peace Memorial stood as a monument to both destruction and hope. The city had rebuilt itself as a symbol of rebirth, rising from ashes to become beautiful again. From there, he took a ferry to Miyajima Island, where the famous torii gate stood knee-deep in the bay. At sunset, the gate turned from red to gold to deep purple, and elderly Japanese women shared their bento with him without speaking.
Nara proved that deer could be both adorable and terrifying. The sacred deer of Todai-ji Temple had perfected aggressive begging, bowing politely for crackers one moment and chasing tourists the next. The Great Buddha sat in serene meditation, forty feet tall and unbothered by the chaos around his feet.
In the Japanese Alps, he hiked through valleys where traditional thatched-roof villages sat like fairy tale illustrations. In Shirakawa-go, he stayed in a farmhouse where the thick straw roof had sheltered families for centuries. His hosts spoke no English, but they managed conversations through smiles and the universal language of shared food.
Hokkaido offered a different Japan entirely. In Sapporo, he discovered beer could be art, touring breweries where generations had perfected liquid poetry. The ramen here was miso-based broths that could resurrect the dead. Okinawa felt like another country—turquoise waters and coral reefs where he spent days diving among tropical fish in underwater gardens.
The food became a daily adventure. Real ramen that redefined the word, each regional style a different conversation between broth and noodles. Sushi that spoiled him forever, tempura light as air, yakitori grilled over charcoal that filled neighborhoods with smoky perfection. Street food was its own universe—takoyaki that burned but were irresistible, taiyaki filled with sweet bean paste, okonomiyaki cooked while he watched.
The people made it all matter. Elderly couples who invited him for tea despite sharing fifty words of common language. Salarymen in tiny Golden Gai bars who taught him drinking songs. A shrine maiden who explained rituals with patient kindness despite his fumbling Japanese.
By the time three weeks had passed, Jay felt like he'd lived several lifetimes. He'd climbed sacred mountains and soaked in ancient springs, made friends despite language barriers, witnessed traditions connecting him to centuries of human experience.
On his final night in Tokyo, standing on Tokyo Skytree's observation deck, the city spread below in all directions. His phone held thousands of photos, but the real memories lived deeper—temple bells echoing across mountain valleys, perfect sushi at dawn, climbing Fuji through the night and watching sunrise from Japan's highest peak.
The neon signs below pulsed like a heartbeat. The world was full of wonders, and he intended to see them all.
Comments
Manan Biwal
Oh man I missed the chance 🤯
CornFlake
I really wanted to meat Conan Edogawa in the Shinkansen while a Murder happens. xD
DragonBoy.EXE
That was great. I always like the slice of life moments.
