Meanwhile, dusk has settled over Akihabara in layers of neon and shadow. The sky has not gone fully dark yet, but the streetlights and signboards are already awake, their colors bleeding into the sidewalks and reflecting off glass storefronts.
Inside a cramped arcade tucked between an electronics shop and a ramen place, the noise is relentless. Game music overlaps with mechanical chimes. Buttons click, joysticks snap, coins rattle.
It is the kind of place where time blurs easily, where frustration can loop forever without consequence.
Okabe sits in front of an aging King of Fighters cabinet, shoulders tense, eyes locked on the screen. Joe Higashi moves exactly the way Okabe tells him to; forward pressure, aggressive footwork, sharp strikes.
Across from him, Chin Gentsai staggers. The old man sways drunkenly, gourd sloshing, posture loose and disrespectful. He looks like he should fall over at any second.
And yet…
"Tch!"
