The ceiling of combat power is actually myself

It's night, Lupine's bar.

"Ah, this lovely young lady~ please fall in love with me~"

"No."

"Ah, is it? Then please bring me a cup of strong sulfuric acid coffee, and replace all the sugar cubes with sleeping pills, thank you."

"Ok."

"Hey, Dazai, no one in the bar orders coffee... No, that's not the point, the point is Miss Shiratori, you should complain about it at this time!"

"Ah~ Sure enough, the little white bird is the one who dotes on me the most, and I like you the most."

"Wait, what is that squeezy smoking thing? Could it be a real guy?!"

Familiar footsteps came, and a young man with brown-red hair and a little stubble appeared in front of the three of them.

"I'm trying to complain about it today, Ango."

With that said, the visitor came over and took advantage of the opportunity to sit in the exclusive seat vacated for him by two friends.

"Ah, Odasaku, you were the last one to arrive today. Shiratori-chan, I won the bet, okay? Please fill another spoonful of dish soap."

"The detergent is gone, let's clean the toilet."

"Great!"

"Wait, Odasaku, did you just complain about that?"

The man with round-rimmed glasses and a fairy-like spirit around him looked sharply at his best friend who had just been seated.

"Well, does it count..."

The man who was called Odasaku tilted his head slightly, with an expressionless but serious expression on his adult face.

"When I didn't ask..."

Today is my last time in this world. In less than a month, I will return to the original world of killing ghosts every day.

Of course, the world is not very peaceful.

As you can see, sitting in front of me are three real mafia. Hand. Party.

One of them is the young old father who picked me up and always made people want to complain "why don't you complain at this time".

Although when I came here, I planned to ask the system to create something out of nothing or secretly store a house in order to settle down.

But Mr. Oda Saku, a literary figure in a different world with a dream of a writer in his black, hand, and party skin, found me who was aimlessly talking to myself on the road.

Maybe he felt that I had some mental problems, so he took me home out of worry.

And it was only the next day that I found out that my adoptive father had a hobby of picking up children.

Five, a full five.

Plus I have six.

If you pick up another random one, you might be able to line up to the comic exhibition to cosplay Vajra Gourd Baby.

My old father can.

Picking up a football team might just be a matter of time, too.

The future is expected.

And since I'm the eldest of six kids, I can't be too idle, though not necessary.

So these days, apart from taking care of my younger siblings, my task is to help the owner of the western restaurant who provides us with a place to wash the dishes, serve the dishes, or run errands to buy hair restorer or something.

Then, in order to cultivate their sentiments, they would come to this bar to learn bartending.

In fact, the main reason is to masturbate the rare three-flowered tomcat.

Although the system is eerily quiet every time I pet the cat, I always have the illusion that I have done something bad.

Ahhh.

Such a peaceful, ordinary day.

Isn't this the "everyday" I'm looking forward to?

Of course Osamu Dazai was an accident.

The setting of this literary giant in this world is a bandaged beautiful boy who loves suicide.

After accidentally seeing me take out a pack of rat poison from the system out of thin air to deal with the nasty rats in the warehouse upstairs, this guy concluded that my supernatural power is a different-dimensional pocket and missed it.

From then on... he stalked and acted like a baby and sweet-mouthed him in different ways, and came to me to set him up with medicine that can make him euthanasia.

It is also because of his good-looking face, his voice is as good as Miyano Mamoru, and because he is my adoptive father's colleague and friend, so I refrained from showing him my unique Japanese knife scraping.

Today too.

I didn't even look at it, and stared at me with cute eyes and crazily hinted, "Please be sure to poison my cup, please." Mr. Dazai clasped his hands together, and pushed the happy water mixed with effervescent tablets and Mentos to him in front of.

Watching him excitedly gulp down his face blankly.

"Wow, it's so hard to drink—"

Sure enough, after drinking, Dazai finally gave the expected evaluation.

"I don't know how to complain about you anymore."

"That's amazing, Dazai."

"Ah, I seem to see an old lady holding a bowl of soup and waving at me from the other side of the bridge..."

"Really? Then I wish you a good journey."

"... Miso soup?"

"I really worked hard to make complaints about it... Thank you for your hard work, Odasaku."

"Ah, thanks...thank you?."

"Ah! Bridge! Bridge! I don't drink soup! I want to jump from here! Gululululu&*%￥#"

I watched these few people chatting easily, and the most active person who made the noise finally put his head on the table amidst all the nonsense, and stopped moving.

He hung up.

He pretended.

But Ango and I still gave a tacit high-five to celebrate my completion of today's first kill of Osamu Dazai.

Odasaku... My upright old father glanced at the three-flowered cat who was avoiding Dazai's disheveled head, and also expressed his curiosity about the drink just now, saying that he would also like to have a try.

"Be careful, people's vitality cannot be generalized," Ango patted Oda Saku on the shoulder to persuade him not to try it lightly, then turned around and raised his glass to me, saying in the same tone as a veteran cadre , "The Xiaoqiang medicine last time was very useful, and there will be no more dark figures in the office."

——"Miss Shiratori's ability is really easy to use."

Ango: Lens reflection.JPG is better than thumb.JPG

Me: "You...you're being polite."

It's been used in strange places.

Not happy at all.

However, at this time, someone who pretended to be asleep came back to life when he heard the key words.

"What what? What kind of deadly new poison did the little white bird come up with? And defeated a group of dark little slugs?" Dazai's eyes flashed with little stars, and he rubbed his hands excitedly, paws and three Standing on the edge of the table like a cat, "Hey! Can you make one for me too?"

"Let's forget Dazai." Shiratori cast a sideways glance at the boy, and continued to wipe the cup. "If it fails, Xiaoqiang medicine and Xiaoqiang who lost his self-esteem will probably cry."

"Yes, after all, your vitality is far greater than that of ordinary Xiaoqiang." An Wu took a sip of tomato juice and agreed, "It's better not to waste Miss Shiratori's ability... Also, no one complains that slug is a what the hell?"

Odasaku: "Can I eat it?"

Shiratori: "Yes, it can be eaten like mackerel."

Ango: "..."

"Ah—too much~~" Dazai elongated his voice, slammed his chin on the table, and rubbed his cheek against the group of cats who circled him, "I will be the first one to die among the four of us Ah, can't you treat people better now?"

"Don't say such unlucky things at a time like this."

Shiratori and Ango said together in a rare tacit understanding.

The two of them have always been able to complain.

It's just that each vomits in his own way, and two people seldom vomit together.

"Hey~" Dazai smiled childishly, "Sorry, sorry."

Sometimes he thinks it's quite fun to lure Ango and Shiratori to make corresponding complaints.

It’s just that the number of times is too high. Although Ango has always insisted on the style of not complaining, the girl in the latter seems to have long been unwilling to be led by the nose by Dazai, and sometimes deliberately pretends not to understand "this is the time to complain." Suddenly, Oda was on the upper body, and he insisted on refusing to pick up his fault.

So at this time, only Ango stood on the battlefield and fought alone for the cause of complaints.

Ango: I can't take it, I can't take it.JPG

The three old friends were still chatting one after another, but at this moment I noticed something abnormal in the system.

"What's wrong with you? You haven't spoken since just now." I asked him.

System: "Oh, it's okay, it's just late at night, and I'm a bit craving a bento."

I heard the meaning of the system's words, so I said, "What? Dazai is finally going to get his wish and get the bento?"

"No way," he shook his head, "Dazai just set the reverse FLAG perfectly, if he makes a lunch box, it won't conform to the Three Laws of Anime."

There are three laws of animation?

The protagonist always sits in the penultimate row by the window?Girls always wear anti-gravity skirts?

……what else?

I really want to complain like this, but I always feel that something bad is going to happen, so I can only ask tentatively: "Uh... so one of Odasaku and Mr. Sakaguchi is going to have an accident?"

The system stopped beeping.

I think that's it.

Because he has restrictions, he cannot directly reveal too much plot to me, an outsider, to avoid drastic changes in this world.

At most, it can only be prompted to this point.

But seeing his gloomy expression, I naturally comforted him and said, "I will pay more attention."

He complied.

But since Dazai ruled it out, then the one who needs to be paid attention to with a high probability is Mr. Sakaguchi, right?

After all, his working condition is like that of a fighter jet among social animals. If he doesn't take good care of it, he may really die from overwork.

There are still quite a few cases of neon karoshi.

A receding hairline and baldness are just minor things.

It seems that health supplements and nutritional supplements have to be arranged for this person.

While thinking about these things, I wiped the glass for a long time, and involuntarily raised my eyes and took a sneak look at the three people in front of me who were harmonious and seemed to be living an ordinary and peaceful life.

It's like a family.

Mom and Dad and mentally handicapped son or something.

There is always the illusion that... no matter what happens, it is impossible to destroy this long-standing and unchanging relaxed atmosphere.

After all, ever since I traveled to this world and made friends with Odasaku Dazai Sakaguchi and the others, they have always gathered in this bar from time to time to spend leisurely.

Sometimes when the three of them were not there, I could see a clear sight of them sitting in a row when I looked up.

The power of habit is truly terrifying.

And when the three of them sat in a row drinking and chatting, I seemed to be able to see the picture of three old men with gray hair and beards growing into the wine glasses sitting there smiling without eyesight a few years later.

The picture is very vivid.

The elderly Grandpa Dazai tremblingly went to pry the high-grade canned crab meat, and the more Buddhist Grandpa Odasaku proposed to bite it with his teeth to see if he could open it. Huge goji berry health tea complains that Grandpa Dazai has no teeth...

This kind of brain supplement is really funny.

For short-lived ghosts, it might be like this to slowly grow old with close friends like this, laughing at each other like "ah, you are old, you are bald, Ango, you are the most bald of the three of us" It's all a kind of happiness.

Ahhh.

Suddenly it became so hypocritical.

But you can't blame me either.

Maybe it's because I was too short-lived in my previous life that I'm feeling so sentimental at this time.

——However, the actual fact is that if there was no thunder from the gods, the girl's condition at that time would not be enough to support her to live for a few days.

She knew since she was a child that such a kind of aging and aging, which is not normal or even disgusting to many people, is a luxury for a girl who is destined to have a short life.

So she has been praying to the gods to give her another day of ordinary life.

Shiratori is not greedy, as long as the average is enough.

"What's the matter? Why have you been absent-minded since just now?"

At this time, it sounded as if the voice of a teenager from a late-night radio station reached my ears.

I was startled, and was immediately pulled back from my thoughts.

Looking up, I happened to meet Dazai Osamu who was looking at me with his iris-colored smiling eyes.

In fact, sometimes, I feel that he has already guessed that there is a system in my head.

This guy always seems to have piercing eyes and it's creepy.

Just when I was about to say something to fool me, Odasaku next to me suddenly answered.

"Well, it's nothing." He tapped his fingers on the table, and slowly took a sip of the wine in his glass. "It's just that I want to write something recently, and I was a little distracted thinking about the subject matter."

That's when I realized I had been lied to.

It turns out that Dazai's words were not aimed at me!

Sure enough, this guy naturally asked Odasaku how far he was thinking with an interested look, and whether he wanted to write a novel.

But when Ango and Oda Saku didn't pay attention, they blinked quickly in my direction.

There was a little cunning in his eyes.

"..."

This guy did it on purpose.

Do you think you are Su or what?

Damn it, I have to admit that there is indeed a little Su.

Qi is here.

I was too lazy to talk to him, and I went to ask Odasaku about the novel.

Thinking that if the gods know that there is a writer here who is going to pick up his pen again, wash his feet from the golden basin of Mafia in the port, and go back to his job to produce food, he might be so excited that he shakes off the game controller in his hand and runs over happily to make him hungry Hungry rice.

Ugh.

I pray to the gods—

If the old man gets what he wants and is happy, can he show mercy and make this [ordinary] daily life last longer...