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The lights in the grocery store were out when Genos finally arrived.
Not off, out. The windows had been smashed. Someone had broken all the bulbs.
They’d even sprayed all over the Purge Sale signs on the walls so they read as Bulge Sale.
Genos didn’t think it was very clever.
It was eight forty-four A.M., and it had taken him two hours of running at full speed to get there. He had broken up a fight between some teenagers on the way but that couldn’t have taken more than five minutes.
Sighing, Genos turned back the way he came.
And spotted another shop down the next street, completely intact.
In fact, the whole street was fully intact.
FRUIT & VEG, a sign above the open doors read. ONLY SHOP IN Z CITY OPEN DURING THE PURGE.
Genos tilted his head to the side.
By all appearances, the shop looked like a typical mom-and-pop store. But the simple fact that it was open during the Purge was suspicious enough.
He weighed his options.
Possible trap?
Or two hour run home.
Possible trap?
Or two hour run home.
Back in the hole. Without groceries.
Possible trap?
Or—
Dee doo! He stepped into the shop.
“Welcome,” a bored voice called out.
As far as he could tell, there was only one person in the whole store, and he hadn’t even looked up when Genos entered.
If the shop was supposed to be a trap, it was the kind that couldn’t even catch a fly.
Genos turned his attention to the shopkeeper.
The bald man—Charanko, his nametag said—was playing loudly on a game console, and for some reason trying very badly to hide it under the shop counter.
Genos browsed the aisles.
“So, this is the only shop open during the Purge?” He called out.
“Yep.” Charanko paused, then grinned up at Genos. “Guess everyone else took a day off from retail therapy.”
This man was not right in the head.
Genos efficiently gathered what needed, straightening the product displays as he went. There was an alarmingly high number of goods in the wrong place.
He was about to tell Charanko when the door dinged again.
Quickly, he hid himself behind a stack of 20% off canned quail eggs and observed.
“Empty the cash register and put it all in the bag.”
There were about five men crowding into the shop. He could take them on but the damage to the merchandise would be considerable. It would be best to resolve the situation nonviolently.
He heard Charanko call out a dull “get out” before stepping out from behind the cans.
“He said get out,” he growled, powering up his hand.
The leader of the group—the one who’d told Charanko to empty the register—watched Genos, sizing him up.
Genos turned up his hand incinerator.
“…Let’s go.” The man led his group out in a dignified manner.
Only when Genos’s sensors told him the group was down the street did he turn off his incinerator.
Charanko was grinning at him. “Thanks, man, you’re pretty scary. You a customer?”
Genos nodded confusedly and went back to retrieve his basket.
“A considerable number of goods were not in their correct spot,” he told Charanko as the man started scanning the items.
”Sure, thanks,” the shopkeeper shrugged disinterestedly. “You want bags?”
Genos shook his head, taking out his own. “What are you doing working during the Purge?”
“What are you doing shopping during the Purge?” Charanko nudged the first shopping bag. Genos picked it up. “You could’ve stolen all this, y’know.”
“I have no need for stealing.”
Charanko snorted. “Morals.”
Genos frowned. “Are you not afraid?”
“Eh,” the weird man shrugged again. “I’ve made it this far.”
He counted up the total and was off by ¥200. Genos pushed the quail egg can onto the scanning glass before handing Charanko the exact change.
Grabbing the remaining basket, he looked around and spotted a pile of shopping baskets with the brand of the large grocery that was Genos’ original destination. Depositing it there, he turned back to the shopkeeper, who had picked up his console again.
“Dang, I lost…” Charanko peered over his console when Genos set his bags down and took the chair next to him. “Um, hello?”
Genos looked at him. “It’s not safe for a lone person to be out during the Purge. I have decided to stay here until the Purge ends to protect this shop.”
He stared straight ahead again.
After a while, Charanko shrugged. “Alright, your choice.”
Hours passed with no activity. A potential customer came once but was scared off by Genos’s general appearance. Charanko told Genos to sit on the floor after that. Genos chose to optimise the layout of the store instead.
He was in the middle of deciding which vegetable should go closest to the entry when the door dinged again.
“Welcome— oh, it’s you guys again,” he heard Charanko’s generally lacklustre voice call out. “You back to buy stuff?”
Genos looked at the clock on the wall. It was four fifty-four—almost seven hours since the group had first come to the shop. Judging by their expressions, the day has not been fruitful so they were now desperate to get anything to show for their efforts.
In short, the group was now hostile.
Again, he stepped out into the open. “The Purge is almost over. Any damage to the merchandise will be held criminally liable.”
“Shit, he’s still here!”
“Language!” Charanko frowned.
Ignoring him, Genos continued. “If you plan on robbing this shop, I advise you to leave immediately.”
“Or what?” A pimple-faced teenager sneered. It seemed the group had deserted its more level-headed leader. “You’re too scared of damaging your precious shop to do anything.”
Another teenager grabbed the pimply-faced one’s arm. He looked at Genos with cautious eyes. “Come on man, just give us the cash in the register and we’ll go.”
Pimple Kid shook his arm out of his friend’s grip, shooting him a dirty look. “No! Keppuru wasn’t hard enough on this guy. He promised us a good Purge and he thinks we’re stupid enough to— woah!”
Genos blinked, lowering his incinerator.
The group was in disarray. “What? Where did Shippuru go—”
The remaining members vanished one by one, until only the reasonable one was left. A scan of the perimeter revealed they’d left the area entirely. Alarm bells rang in his head, but it wasn’t an alarm he’d been briefed on before.
Babyface bowed shakingly towards Genos. “I’ll take my leave now, if you don’t mind, sir—” the kid bolted out the door.
Genos flared his incinerator. Whoever—whatever—had eliminated the group was inside the shop.
“Man, that was boring!” Charanko mused from behind him.
Genos jumped. When had he—
Walking in front of him, Charanko rapped on Genos’s chest plate once. Twice. He whistled. “Wow, that’s hard.”
The—shopkeeper?—grinned up at Genos, who was still frozen. “Thanks for your help, man! The Purge is a lot more fun with someone there. Last year it was all—” the man crossed his eyes “‘—what do you mean there’s no refunds?’ and ‘mama, mama, the baldy’s face is so hard!’”
He started picking up the aisles with his bare hands and pushing them to one side.
…What was happening?
Charanko’s face sharpened. “But seriously, I gotta close up shop now. I don’t get paid after the Purge ends.”
“Wait!” Genos grabbed the shopkeeper’s arm. Taken aback, he looked down at it. It was harder than steel. “Charanko-san. Take me as your student!”
Charanko blinked. And snorted. “Charanko?”
Genos frowned. Then realised. He quickly kowtowed. “Charanko-sama!”
“What? Oh, no.” Charanko smiled. “My name’s not Charanko.”
Genos’s head spun. He stared holes into the katakana on Charanko—not-Charanko?—’s name tag.
“Oh—” In a flash, not-Charanko whipped off his name tag.
…Come to think of it, he had scanned Genos’s groceries with considerable speed, too.
“Saitama,” not-Charanko was saying as Genos mentally replayed everything that had happened that day, still on the floor. “I’m Saitama.”
He nudged the cyborg up from the floor.
“Saitama-sensei.” Genos bowed deeply. “My name is Genos.”