Tech Hero in Another World
Chapter 112: [111] Memories from Ren’s past (2)

Chapter 112: [111] Memories from Ren’s past (2)

That afternoon, after Kiriya went home to rest—his head still spinning from everything that happened, especially with his best friend Ren—the base fell silent. The usual chaos of Kiriya’s voice was gone, leaving a calm that felt strangely empty.

Ren stared at the main console, eyes tracing the faint, pulsing projection of Ultro’s digital brain. Man, he thought. He should be relaxed about this.

But Ren couldn’t stay still for long—not when his mission wasn’t finished. He refocused on the AI’s power source before him.

His arms lifted, fingers tapping across the holographic interface. "Yesterday in Sudan I was stuck firing plasma cannons, my Mark I shot to hell and riddled with tank rounds," he muttered. "It was brutal... but I survived."

He sighed, looking at the Mark I armor he’d left on the nearby rack. "Alright, Ultro. Can you give me intel on old and new weapon systems from every major world power?"

『Accessing information... please wait.』 The AI’s voice hummed, soothing yet electric.

Ren waited, gliding his fingers over the display as if playing a futuristic keyboard. The blue holographic glow cast his shadow tall on the metal wall.

He imagined rocket launch systems, air-defense arrays, armed drones, infantry robots—all possibilities for Mark II.

Graphs and diagrams formed from the data, each bar detailing weapon capacity, serial numbers, country of origin, year of deployment.

Ren studied it. Modern cold‑war dynamics he never noticed while buried in class and lab work.

Ultro continued: "Hypersonic missile systems are active in three nations. Light and heavy combat UAVs in over a dozen. Infantry robot platforms pending mass production in the world’s fourth power."

Ren took furious notes. Nice. I’ve got ideas for Module II. A grin tugged at his lips.

Over the next six months, he absorbed every piece of weaponry knowledge Ultro could feed him in their basement lair.

Night after night he sketched new prototypes—energy rifles, recon drones, missile drones—each detailed in holograms and complex schematics.

His ability to learn was phenomenal—but Ren kept it all hidden.

At school, he stayed mid‑tier—purposefully under ranking Top 50. He didn’t want teenage spotlight. Fame at this age was a hassle—especially for someone like him.

He preferred blending in. Cuz even being a secret superhero carried risks if misunderstood.

Weeks became months. Ren and Kiriya stayed in the same high‑school classes—known as the inseparable duo, the classmates who never left each other’s orbit.

Yet Kiriya noticed a shift in Ren over those six months—an aura he hadn’t sensed before.

Ren grew quieter. His trademark sarcasm and jokes sounded less in halls.

He looked more distant, colder, harder for classmates to approach—except Kiriya, of course.

When asked, Ren only replied briefly and returned to his routine. "This is more comfortable," he once said softly.

One afternoon, alone on the empty basketball court, Kiriya asked, voice low but firm, "Why are you shutting everyone out?"

Ren glanced at the basketball in his hand, spinning it slowly on his fingertip before gently bouncing it off the rim. "Maybe I’ve found the vibe that fits my high‑school debut."

Kiriya stared sharp. "You’re making it hard for people to get close."

Ren gave a small smile, catching the ball on its return. "Yeah, that’s fine. People have a right to be interested—and I don’t want everyone interested in me."

"If someone comes with good intentions," he added, "maybe I’ll return kindness."

Kiriya shook his head, sat on the court’s edge. "You sound like old‑man Souma from the library."

Ren laughed softly. "Fair. Hey, last night was pretty funny."

Kiriya raised an eyebrow. "Funny?"

Ren dribbled with one hand as he spoke. "You remember War Thunder?"

Kiriya gave a lazy nod. "Yeah. I was your cannon‑fodder."

Ren shrugged innocently. "Well, I joined the international Discord community. Tons of ’veterans’—like actual military folks into simulation."

Kiriya already saw the trouble brewing. "Don’t tell me you caused another scene..."

Ren raised two fingers. "I just baited. I wrote, ’Leopard tanks are overrated. T‑90 beats it on paper.’"

Kiriya groaned. "Oh god, Ren..."

"Suddenly the channel blew up. They were arguing with NATO docs, dropping references. One guy—maybe legit military, maybe poser—downloaded a classified doc."

Kiriya’s jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was an actual ops manual—with watermark and everything. Five minutes later, Discord got nuked. Server taken down."

Kiriya slapped his forehead. "So you—indirectly—were part of a country’s leak?"

Ren shrugged. "Me? No. Just a spectator. I even saved the PDF."

"KIRIYA!" he yelled.

"Relax—I won’t share it. Just for personal study. Good for Mark III’s tactical system."

Kiriya wanted to yell more... but couldn’t help laughing. "You’re the walking definition of "disaster with a sweet face.""

Ren laughed maniacally. "Well, at least we’re still alive."

Around them, other students looked on, curious and amused as the pair laughed out loud.

---

ChatGPT said:

One day, Ren came home late because he’d fallen asleep in class. No one woke him—and Kiriya wasn’t there anyway, off at a kendo tournament out of town.

"Urghh..." Ren woke up, his eyes half-open. His vision was still blurry as he took in the empty classroom around him.

"Huh, why’s it so quiet?" he muttered, his voice echoing in the silent room that was usually buzzing. He glanced at the window—the sky was painted orange, the late-afternoon sun streaming in.

"Oh man, I fell asleep... And without Kiriya here, nobody cares?" he said with a bitter chuckle. There was a hint of sadness, but as always, Ren didn’t let it bother him too much.

He stood up slowly from his desk, but as he rose, a sharp pain struck the back of his head.

"Ouch... Why’s my head killing me?" Ren pressed his temple. His vision rippled, as if the room was bending around him.

He approached the window, about to drink while looking out the window with the water from the bottle he brought. But when he saw his reflection... his eyes widened.

Behind his own reflection stood a figure—jet black and impossibly tall and thin, like Alien X from Ben 10, but radiating a dark, oppressive aura.

"What!?" Ren spun around. The figure was still standing by the classroom door, completely still.

"That’s... some cosplay... hehe," he stammered, voice trembling. His heart raced.

The figure didn’t say anything; it simply raised one hand—and instantly, reality around him twisted, folding like warped glass.

Ren staggered. He felt his body being contorted, yanked out of this world, then thrust into another space—pure white. No floor, no walls, no ceiling. Just unending brightness.

"Haaah... What is this!?" Ren asked, panic creeping into his voice. In front of him, the figure moved closer now.

Its face looked like the night sky—star-filled but shapeless, as if space itself had taken humanoid form.

"Hey... who are you?" Ren tried to sound casual, but his voice clearly shook.

The figure stared at him—or at least, Ren felt its gaze. There were no eyes, no features, but the presence pressed on him like an invisible mountain.

"This is the first—and last—time I’ll help you," the figure said. The voice didn’t come from Ren’s ears; it reverberated in his chest, like an echo from another dimension.

"Next time... realize your power," it continued. And before Ren could ask more, the white space shattered around him like glass hit by a hammer.

---

In one of the grand chambers of the golden Samsara palace, Ren lay motionless—his body completely bandaged from head to toe, looking as though it had been burned beyond recognition.

The kingdom’s finest physician shook his head slowly. His voice was heavy. "I’m sorry, Sire... but this boy... his body can’t take any more. The burns—too extensive, too deep."

"What do you mean?" Nea asked sharply, her tone near disbelief.

"Even with every healing elixir in the royal stores... there’s too little left of him to recover. These burns... I’ve never seen anything like it."

Khan clenched his fists, not wanting to hear any more. With a single nod, he silently excused the physician.

Only silence remained—thick with grief. Ren, once brimming with energy, lay still and wrapped like a mummy.

Khan stepped forward. Beside him, Nea stared wide-eyed, her hand trembling in a tight fist. Even Susan dared not turn her gaze, tears silently held back.

"Nico..." Khan whispered, softly, as if speaking to a memory. "Thank you for everything. I will see that Alfred, Bella, and their children return safely."

He bowed his head. "Rest now..."

Before he could finish, Ren’s eyes snapped open.

In their depths, brilliant light flickered, like starlight reflecting in a crystal. Everyone staggered back instinctively, struck by something otherworldly.

Ren’s head lifted slowly, the bandages igniting into ashes that floated away, revealing skin smooth and radiant—fully healed.

"What is he..." Nea murmured, awe-struck.

Above Ren, a spiral of luminous light swirled—a miniature portal. Its glow wasn’t blinding, but its presence filled the room with a sacred hush.

Khan instinctively lowered his gaze, knees soft—not out of fear, but reverence. They were witnessing something beyond human.

The spiral slowly descended, merging into Ren’s body. Burnt flesh regenerated instantly. His scorched hair grew back, and even the mark from the TAF core on his chest vanished.

Ren exhaled, a low sigh like rolling thunder, a sign of his return to life.

He looked up, eyes still shining. None dared speak; the very air felt sacred.

The light dimmed. Ren sat up, his skin subtly glowing. He blinked once, then spoke in a clear, quiet voice:

"I’m... hungry."

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