Rebirth of the Vulgar Couple - Episode 3

“Expensive…”

“That’s not an amount a middle schooler could pay, is it?”

Both our households leaned towards being poor.
We were both from single-mother families, and life wasn’t exactly comfortable. Our mothers worked desperately to support us.
But maybe that strain took its toll—my mother passed away while still in university, and Azusa’s mother died right after graduating. That was part of why I’d grown to hate working.

Now that we’ve miraculously returned to the past, I really want to avoid that bad ending.

“Hmm. So even raising something like Appearance or Academics costs this much?”

For example, Appearance is currently 50, and raising it by 1 point costs 500,000 yen.
Luck is 20, and raising it by 1 costs 200,000 yen.

“It seems the cost changes based on the tens digit.”

“How much would it cost to max everything out?!”

Skills were even worse.
Singing was Lv. 2, and raising it to Lv. 3 cost 2,000,000 yen.
Horse Racing was Lv. 6, and raising it cost 5,000,000 yen!

“Oh? You can learn new skills? To learn one costs… Whoa! 10,000,000 yen?!”

This is insane. How much money do they want?

“Well, if paying means no effort required, that’s actually a pretty good deal, right?”

“True. But it’s hopeless for us right now.”

We were still middle schoolers.
We couldn’t get part-time jobs, and we couldn’t ask our parents for money. But…

“I could do stocks. I’d need Mom’s help to open an account, though.”

“Oh? Really?”

But there were hurdles.
First, we had no computer. We needed at least a notebook—but had no money to buy one.

Next was convincing our parents, like I said earlier.
To someone unfamiliar, stock trading looks no different from gambling.
Would they really let their middle-school son do it?

“Look, there’s some kind of money input slot here. Probably put cash in here…”

Would it give receipts? If not, things could get messy—especially with taxes. We’d be pouring serious money into this status board.

“Anyway, just thinking lightly reveals several problems.”

“Well, we are poor…”

Azusa and I both lived in rundown apartments.
It felt wrong to ask our hardworking mothers for money.

“But we got this chance to come back, right? We need to earn money fast and free our moms from work.”

“True. I want them to live long lives this time.”

This was tough. Maybe I had to use my last resort.
It wasn’t exactly praiseworthy, but…

“No choice. Guess I’ll break the law.”

“What are you planning? Don’t get us arrested.”

If you don’t get caught, it’s fine.
If I was careful, it should be okay.

“Nah, I was just thinking of going to the horse races.”

“What a relief. I thought you were about to say ‘bank robbery’.”

That would be way too risky.
The success rate was basically zero anyway.

“Horse racing lets you bet from 100 yen. If I dress like an adult, blend into the crowd—no one will notice.”

A mask would hide my somewhat childish face.
Luckily, I was already taller than the average adult male.

“But are you sure? Do you even remember race results from that long ago?”

“If I see the race card for G1 races, it should come back. Probably.”

I’d studied past races a lot back then. I should remember the winners—worst case, I’d just bet everything on those.

“Need to be careful with payouts, though. Can’t draw attention with huge wins.”

Had to keep payouts low enough for the machines to handle. That way, I could dodge taxes too.

“Anyway, I’ll research the upcoming races…”

“And what about after that?”

Ideally, I’d use racing winnings as seed money for stocks—but I’d probably have to wait until high school.
No way to explain suddenly owning a laptop. I could say I bought it with part-time job money once we started high school.

“So my goal is to save up seed money before high school. Can’t make it too much, though—don’t want the tax office snooping around.”

An amount like “saved-up New Year’s money since childhood” should fly under the radar.
Small sums wouldn’t trigger deep investigations.

“Any leftover money from racing goes into the status board. No idea how much I can make, though.”

“What about me? You’ve got a lot to do, Keita, but I don’t have much.”

“Nah, Azusa—there’s something I really need you to handle.”

It was urgent.
The biggest immediate crisis was…

“Do you remember our middle school classmates well? I only properly remember a few close friends…”

“Ah, uh… right.”

Azusa and I had lots of friends, but…
They were more like acquaintances. It’d take forever to recall them properly.
I wasn’t confident talking to anyone except a few best friends.

“Plus, we’re mentally almost 40. Can we even blend into middle-school conversations…?”

“Sounds tough.”

And there was more.

“We’re third-years, right? Meaning… high school entrance exams.”

“Ugh… oh god.”

Seriously—oh god.
No way I remember class material now.
Stuff like factoring quadratics? Zero chance.

“Why couldn’t we have come back after high school entrance?”

“Seriously…”

That way, we could’ve rebuilt friendships from scratch and skipped the exam hell.
Maybe whoever sent us back just likes playing tricks.