Aoyama was on a roll. Or rather, the System was in a particularly generous mood, its internal gears "shadow-manipulated" to ensure his success.
"Again!" he shouted, his eyes wide with the frantic energy of a gambler who'd just seen the lights of Las Vegas for the first time.
The second pull was a wash: a Bronze-tier ability called 'The Water Skipping King.' It granted him the uncanny ability to skip a stone across a pond at least twenty times in a single throw. Impressive for a beach vacation, but useless for building a digital metropolis.
The third pull, however, hit the jackpot.
[DIAMOND-TIER ABILITY ACQUIRED: THE NEWS KING.]
Aoyama stared at the card. A "King" of News? Why was that only Diamond-tier? Then he thought about the state of modern journalism and realized the System probably considered "objective truth" a low-priority resource in a world built on hype.
He kept pushing. Fourth pull: Gold-tier 'Pig Farming Professor.' Fifth, sixth, and seventh: a string of Silver and Gold duds, including 'British Cuisine King' (which he immediately muted), 'The Electrician Who Never Dies Empty-Handed,' and a modest 'Eidetic Memory' upgrade.
He didn't care. He knew the System was leading him somewhere.
On the eighth pull, the diamond light flared again.
[DIAMOND-TIER ABILITY ACQUIRED: THE CIVIL ENGINEERING HOLY BODY.]
"Yes!" Aoyama pumped his fist. "Alright, old fossil, let's do it. Smelt them down! Give me that Master-level programming logic!"
[To synthesize Master-level Programming, the Host must include at least one Diamond-tier coding-related skill,] the System reminded him. [The 'Mathematical Pearl' is a pure logic skill. I suggest upgrading 'Game Overlord' to Diamond-tier first.]
"You're bleeding me dry, you old parasite!" Aoyama yelled at the empty air.
The cost was astronomical. Between the failed pulls, the upgrade for 'Game Overlord' (which became 'Game Sovereign'), and the final synthesis fee, he was burning through his points like jet fuel. He'd started the afternoon with nearly nine thousand points; by the time he was done, he wouldn't have enough left for a cup of coffee.
But he didn't hesitate. "Do it. Upgrade and fuse: 'News King,' 'Civil Engineering Holy Body,' and 'Game Sovereign'!"
The fusion chamber in his mind began to spin, the three Diamond icons dissolving into a vortex of white-hot light. The sound was like a choir of angels singing in binary.
[SYNTHESIS SUCCESSFUL. MASTER-LEVEL ABILITY ACQUIRED: THE GAME CREATOR.]
As the knowledge flooded his mind, Aoyama felt his perspective shift. It wasn't just about code anymore. He didn't see 'variables' or 'functions.' He saw the underlying fabric of digital reality.
Lighting rendering, skeletal rigging, fluid dynamics, and network latency; it all made perfect sense to him. He could visualize a trillion lines of code as a living, breathing organism. He wasn't just a director anymore. He was the Father of the World.
The 'Game Creator' was a god-tier skill. He could build Night City in his sleep.
---
While Aoyama was basking in his new-found digital divinity, a very different scene was unfolding in a cramped, cluttered apartment across the city.
Hayashi Hirokuni, a veteran mangaka whose hair had turned thin and gray from decades of meeting weekly deadlines, was hunched over his drawing board. His studio was a graveyard of crumpled paper, discarded ink bottles, and the lingering scent of stale ramen.
Behind him, a young assistant was frantically coloring a page. "Kenji, hurry up with that shading. The editor is coming in an hour!"
Hayashi Hirokuni stood up, his vision swimming. He felt a sudden, sharp pressure behind his eyes. He reached for his water glass, his hand trembling.
CRACK.
The glass hit the floor, shattering into a thousand diamond-like shards. A second later, the heavy sound of a body hitting the floorboards echoed through the room.
"Sensei? Hayashi-sensei!"
---
The next morning, Hiroshi Oumi, the Editor-in-Chief of Manga World, received a phone call that turned his blood cold.
"What? Hayashi Hirokuni had a stroke? He's in ICU?"
He listened as the hospital liaison explained the situation. Overwork, high blood pressure, and a lifetime of stress had finally caught up with the veteran creator. His series, one of the mainstays of the weekly magazine, would have to go on indefinite hiatus.
Hiroshi Oumi hung up the phone, rubbing his temples. They had a void in the weekly lineup, a prime spot that needed to be filled immediately by a series with enough momentum to keep the readers' attention.
...
It was a tragedy for Hayashi, but for the magazine, it was a catastrophe.
He looked at the latest popularity rankings on his desk. At the very top, even as a semi-monthly series, was Edgerunners.
"Aoyama," Hiroshi whispered. "Looks like you're finally stepping into the big leagues."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]