Days Remaining: 89

  The morning sun filtered through the cheap plastic blinds, illuminating my disgrace.

  I knelt before the Spinning River Spirit—the white, boxy golem that governs the flow of water within this domicile. I was clad in my gi. Once, it possessed the pristine whiteness of winter frost, a symbol of purity and discipline. But thanks to the "Red Sock Betrayal" of two days ago, I was now the color of a cherry blossom in full bloom.

  I was a pink ninja. The shame burned hotter than a branding iron, but a shinobi endures.

  However, more pressing than my humiliation was the stench. Yesterday’s battles atop the Iron Steed—delivering sustenance to the lazy masses of Shibuya—had left my armor soaked in the miasma of sweat and exhaust fumes. I needed to purify my gear.

  I reached for the white canister Aoi-dono had entrusted to me. The vessel of the cleaning agent.

  I tipped it. Nothing.

  I shook it. Silence.

  "Impossible..." I whispered, horror dawning upon me. "The Well of Bubbles... has run dry."

  Behind me, the sliding door groaned open. Aoi-dono emerged from her slumber chamber, scratching her head. Her hair was a chaotic thicket that rivaled the dense forests of Iga. She wore an oversized shirt that proclaimed in the barbarian tongue: PIZZA IS MY BOYFRIEND.

  "Masa... why are you kneeling on the floor?" she yawned, blinking sleep from her eyes.

  "My Liege," I said, bowing my head low. "I have failed in my logistics. The alchemy fluid required to appease the River Spirit is depleted."

  She peered at the empty bottle. "Oh, we’re out of detergent? My bad. I meant to buy some last week." She shuffled toward the fridge, retrieving a can of coffee. "Run to the drugstore and grab a refill. Just get whatever has the 'Indoor Drying' (Heyaboshi) kanji on it. And make it cheap. I'm broke until payday."

  "Indoor Drying... Cheap..." I repeated the command, engraving it into my memory. "I shall return with the elixir, My Lady. On my honor."

  The establishment was known as Matsumoto Kiyoshi.

  To the untrained eye, it was a merchant’s shop. To me, it was clearly the Grand Library of the Alchemists.

  As I approached, the glass gates parted automatically with a mechanical hum, welcoming me into a realm of aggressive illumination. The air was sterile, chilled to an unnatural degree. Rows upon rows of elixirs, poisons, and unguents stretched into the distance.

  I navigated past the "Corridor of Eye Potions" and the "Sector of Hair Dyes" until I reached my destination: The Sector of Laundry.

  I froze.

  "By the chaotic gods..."

  The wall before me was a towering fortification of cleaning agents. Hundreds of colorful bottles screamed for my attention. Scents of "Morning Rose," "Crystal Sky," and "Anti-Bacterial Citrus" assaulted my heightened senses.

  I narrowed my eyes. I had to choose the optimal weapon for the war against stains. I crossed my arms and began my tactical analysis.

  First, the Liquid (Ekitai).

  I lifted a "refill pack"—a heavy, plastic bladder filled with fluid. According to the diagrams, one must pour this unstable bladder into the original bottle.

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  Analysis: High risk. One slip of the hand, and the precious fluid will spill upon the floor. It requires the steady hand of a surgeon or an archer holding their breath. Furthermore, it is bulky to transport.

  Second, the Powder (Funmatsu).

  I examined a box heavy with white grit. Gunpowder? No... sand. A physical abrasive.

  Analysis: It looks powerful enough to scour the skin off a demon, but the water in the River Spirit is cold in the winter. If this powder does not dissolve, it will remain in the fibers of my gi like shrapnel. A double-edged sword.

  Then, my eyes fell upon the third option.

  It sat in a transparent plastic sarcophagus on the top shelf. I picked up the container. Inside were squishy, sphere-like objects, swirling with three distinct colors: Blue, Green, and White.

  The Tri-Colored Jewels (Gel Ball).

  "Beautiful..." I breathed.

  They looked like the eyes of a dragon. Or perhaps highly condensed chakra stones, sealed in a dissolvable membrane. I read the sacred text on the box: ONE TOSS. PERFECT CLEAN.

  "One toss...?"

  The efficiency was staggering. No measuring. No pouring. No risk of spillage. Just a single, decisive throwing motion—a motion I had practiced with shuriken since I was a child of five.

  This was not merely soap. This was a ninja tool disguised as a domestic product.

  "Excuse me."

  I turned to a nearby store clerk, an elderly woman arranging toothbrushes. She looked up, startled by my sudden proximity (I had utilized my Stealth Walk inadvertently).

  "Y-yes?" she squeaked.

  I held up the box of Gel Balls with reverence. "Tell me, Wise One. Does this 'Tri-Colored Magic Stone' truly possess the power to cleanse an entire load of armor? Is the potency not too high? Will it detonate?"

  The woman blinked. She looked at my pink gi, then at my intense expression. "Uh... no? It doesn't explode. You just put one in the bottom of the washer. It's very popular."

  "I see." I nodded gravely. "And the membrane? It vanishes?"

  "It dissolves in water. Just... um..." She pointed to a warning label. "Don't eat it, okay? Children sometimes think it's candy."

  I recoiled, genuinely shocked. "Eat it? Who would consume a cleaning artifact? Do the people of this era possess iron stomachs, or merely leaden brains?"

  "Please just don't eat it," she repeated, looking concerned.

  I looked at the price tag. It was significantly higher than the liquid or powder. It lacked the "Yellow Talisman of Half-Price."

  However.

  Aoi-dono is a princess in hiding. Would a princess measure liquid like a common apothecary? No. She deserves the elegance of the Single Toss.

  "I shall take this," I declared. "The Dragon’s Eyes."

  Back at the Stronghold, I stood before the Spinning River Spirit once more.

  I loaded my pink gi and Aoi-dono’s towel (which smelled faintly of beer) into the drum. I opened the box and took out a single Gel Ball. It felt soft, yielding, yet dangerous in my palm.

  "Fly, oh jewel of the foam," I whispered.

  With a flick of my wrist, I executed a perfect Shuriken Throw.

  The Gel Ball sailed through the air, entering the washing machine with a satisfying plap.

  I slammed the lid and pressed the button marked 'Start'. Water rushed in. Through the translucent lid, I watched as the membrane dissolved, releasing the three colors into the churning vortex. Suds rose instantly, white and thick.

  "Alchemy," I murmured, wiping a tear from my eye. "Truly, the future is a land of wonders."

  The front door clicked open.

  "I'm home," Aoi called out, carrying a convenience store bag. She walked into the kitchen area, spotting the box on the counter.

  Her eyes went wide.

  "Masa!" she shrieked. "You bought the Gel Balls?!"

  I turned, puffing out my chest in pride. "Indeed, My Liege. I selected the most efficient tactical option. Observe the lack of mess! The speed of deployment!"

  "These are like... three times the price of the powder!" She grabbed the receipt, her face paling. "I said cheap! We’re supposed to be saving for rent!"

  "But..." I faltered, my confidence cracking. "It requires no measuring. It is... the shuriken of laundry."

  Aoi sighed, her shoulders slumping. She looked at the receipt, then at the spinning washing machine, and finally at me—a grown man in a pink gi, looking at her with the eyes of a puppy who just brought home a dead bird.

  "The shuriken of laundry, huh?" She rubbed her temples. "God, you're weird."

  She ripped open her bag of chips.

  "Whatever. At least it has fabric softener built-in. Just... use them sparingly, okay? One per load. No double-tapping."

  "Understood!" I bowed. "One kill, one hit."

  She offered me a chip. "Want one? It's Consommé Punch flavor."

  I accepted the offering. The alchemy of the laundry was complete, but the mystery of the 'Consommé' was just beginning.

  Countdown Update:

  Days Remaining: 89

  Funds: Critical Level (The Gel Balls were expensive).

  Next Episode Preview:

  ("Fighting Dreamers" style guitar riff starts playing)

  Masanari: "The Oracle Slate vibrates with a terrifying sound! Aoi-dono calls it a 'Group Chat,' but I see only a battlefield of words and emojis! Wait, who is this 'Kazu' who dares to send a heart symbol to my Liege?! Treason!?"

  Next Time: Episode 12 - The Genjutsu of the Group Chat!

  Masanari: "I shall interpret these hieroglyphs or die trying!"

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