Chapter 6: One Does Not Strike a Smiling Face

As ten o’clock approached, the sun shone brightly. After cooperating with the doctor for his daily dressing change and examination, Yuxing was free to leave his hospital room and wander about. The doctor encouraged him to get up and move around, advising only that he not push himself, return to bed immediately if he felt tired, and contact medical staff at the first sign of discomfort.

Yuxing nodded obediently like a well-behaved child, making it clear that he was a model patient who listened to all medical advice.

It was early summer, and as noon drew near, the air already carried the heat of midsummer. Yuxing’s body led him across the street from the hospital toward a plaza, where a mobile bubble tea stand beckoned with the promise of something sweet and cold.

“Hello, what would you like to drink? There’s a special today—half price on the second cup,” the owner greeted him with a practiced smile.

Yuxing hesitated, touching his chin. After persuading Senior Ayu to go home yesterday, he’d sent a message to his workplace group chat, thanking everyone for their care over the past few days, explaining that he was well enough now and there was no need for anyone to take turns watching over him. He urged them to rest and promised a good meal to celebrate once he was discharged.

His colleagues had all sent their wishes for a speedy recovery. That meant no one would likely visit him today. If he bought two bubble teas, he’d be drinking both himself… Well, perhaps the second could be a midnight snack.

With that thought, Yuxing nodded and ordered two pearl milk teas with light sugar, paying for both.

As he waited for his drinks and idly scrolled through the day’s news on his tablet, a sudden chill ran up his spine.

Yuxing shuddered, the cold that crept from behind leaving him frozen in place.

Well, it seemed that someone had come to visit him after all...

He kept scrolling through the news, pretending to shift his stance casually. Turning ninety degrees toward the counter, he glanced sideways to see what was causing that unsettling feeling behind him.

As expected.

Catching a glimpse of a long shirt in black and white, he instantly understood. At times like these, Yuxing could only marvel at Tsuburaya Productions’ casting abilities. The man didn’t look exactly like the actor Nanase Kou, but the aura was unmistakable—anyone who had seen “Ultraman Taiga” would recognize him as Kirisaki, the human form of Tregear.

Even without the signature black-and-white shirt, the blue streaks in his hair, or the blue eyeshadow, he was instantly identifiable.

Just then, the bubble tea owner placed two freshly made cups on the counter and prepared a paper bag to pack them, but Yuxing stopped him.

“I’ll drink them here, no need for a bag, thank you.”

The owner, happy to save a bag, pulled out two straws from the plastic bucket.

“Would you like them opened?”

“Just one, please.”

The owner unwrapped a straw, pierced one cup, and handed it to Yuxing, bundling the other cup with a straw in a paper holder and passing it over.

Yuxing took the first bubble tea and, without hesitation, handed the unopened cup and straw to the “stranger” beside him.

In truth, he wanted to use the outstretched hand to maintain at least an arm’s length from this dangerous individual.

But that was little comfort—if this guy wanted to act, what difference would an arm’s length make? From eight hundred miles away, he could probably finish him off with a single shot.

On the other side, Tregear seemed momentarily taken aback by this gesture—why had he suddenly been given bubble tea? Was there something wrong with the human chosen by Taiga?

Though puzzled, Tregear forced a polite smile and accepted the cup with both hands. After all, one does not strike a smiling face, nor curse someone offering a gift.

The moment Yuxing handed over the drink, he suddenly noticed a large “+1” appear above the man’s head, followed by a string of ornate Nebula M78 script.

Tregear, noticing Yuxing staring at his head in surprise, couldn’t help but wonder—was there something on his head?

Curious, Tregear glanced up, but saw only the endless expanse of clear blue sky.

While Tregear was distracted, Yuxing stealthily slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, actually reaching for the Taiga Spark hanging at his waist.

As expected, the light screen that appeared before his eyes now showed that, of the four zeros arrayed there, the first had become a one.

He didn’t know what the “+1” signified—the row of alien script had vanished too quickly for him to read, let alone understand. For convenience, he decided to call it a “Pinnacle Point.”

Tregear, having found nothing above his head, withdrew his gaze. He was about to thank Yuxing for the gift when he realized Yuxing had vanished from his side.

He turned to see Yuxing leaning against the counter, ordering another bubble tea.

The owner, who had witnessed the entire exchange, was thoroughly perplexed—what kind of silent game were these two playing? But business was business, so he quickly prepared another cup and, sensing this one would be taken to go, packed it neatly in a paper bag.

Yuxing thanked him again and walked over with the bag.

Thus, Tregear received a second bubble tea.

“…………???”