The attic of Boro Café was still better than the conditions at Leblanc.
Kazawa, who was unpacking his things, felt quite relieved.
The space wasn't big, and there were no windows, but at least there was a proper bed and a private bathroom. Just these two points already made him very satisfied.
Fun fact: the P5 protagonist's bed was made by placing a wooden plank over several plastic crates used for holding drinks.
The original body's belongings had been packed into three cardboard boxes and sent to the café in advance. Inside were a spare Teitan High School uniform, three to four sets of seasonal clothes, shoes, loungewear, some stationery… and that was it.
…That's too strange. Did the original body have no personal hobbies? Was he a vacuum person with no private items? Not a single object showing anything about his past life?
And then there was that brand-new phone.
Don't tell me all the original belongings were confiscated?
Actually, that's quite possible. With Bourbon around, it wouldn't be surprising if every electronic device, book, and piece of paper belonging to Kazawa Akira had been taken away.
Thinking of this, Kazawa opened his commuter bag and took out the planner inside.
As expected, it was a brand-new, blank notebook.
Kazawa sighed and tossed it back into the bag. Great. Perfect. Whoever did it, they were highly skilled—everything was wiped clean.
Forget it. His long, one-year life was about to begin—no need to rush.
So hungry. He hadn't eaten lunch or dinner. There was a kitchen downstairs, but it didn't feel right to use the café's ingredients without asking first.
Besides, he didn't have any—
Wait, no, he did!
Kazawa suddenly sat up straight. Oh right, should he try using his Doraemon-style four-dimensional pocket?
To be safe, in case the overly cautious Bourbon had even installed surveillance in the attic, Kazawa first pretended to reach into his bag and fumble around.
Then he scrolled through the long list of items and picked the cheapest rice ball.
The next second, his right hand touched the cool plastic wrapper.
…It really worked. Not bad.
Kazawa held the cold rice ball up in front of his eyes and gave it a squeeze. Soft yet elastic—it was a solid, proper rice ball.
But could this kind of food, with no expiration date, really be eaten? Honestly, he still had a super spicy Leblanc curry from the game's first playthrough, aged in-game for two years. Even in the game, he had eaten it hesitantly, let alone in real life.
His stomach throbbed in pain. In the end, Kazawa opened the wrapper, closed his eyes, and took a bite.
There wasn't any strange taste. The rice was sweet and full, and surprisingly delicious.
Kazawa quickly scarfed down one, looked at the size of the commuter bag, and figured another rice ball could definitely fit—so he wolfed down a second one.
Incredible. He'd try later to see if he could put things into the bag. If items could go in and out freely, he was already halfway to being invincible. Nothing to fear anymore!
Four-dimensional pocket, eternal god.
Once his nerves relaxed, fatigue overwhelmed him. The mental stress from this information-overloaded day was hard to put into words.
He pulled out his loungewear and slowly shuffled toward the bathroom.
He was already exhausted. Time to sleep.
Blue. Endless blue stretched out before his eyes.
The crisp sound of wind chimes clinking together and the creak of a door opening followed close behind. When Kazawa opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of a dimly lit bar counter.
Dark blue checkered floor tiles, walls covered in blue diamond patterns, and a bar counter draped in Klein blue under several spotlights—everything pointed to one thing…
"Welcome to the Velvet Room, guest," said the bartender standing behind the counter. He turned around, took a wine glass from the rack, and gestured for Kazawa to take a seat.
"A bar, huh…" Kazawa raised an eyebrow, looking amused, but still chose a high stool and sat down. "My Velvet Room… is actually a bar? I gave up drinking a long time ago, though."
"Quite the ironic twist, isn't it?" The blond bartender leaned casually on the counter with his arms propped up.
Kazawa gave him a once-over, starting from the blue jazz hat down to the matching bowtie and vest.
He was quite handsome, with golden hair slicked back, and although his face had the soft features typical of East Asians, his sharp bone structure gave him a mature look. If one had to guess, most people would say he was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. His vibe and the retro bar setting matched well.
But…
"Either way, letting a minor into a bar is a bit inappropriate, don't you think?" Kazawa leaned forward, putting his baby-faced features right in front of the man.
"That's not for me to decide, guest. The Velvet Room is a reflection of the guest's inner self. Ordinary minors wouldn't imagine it as a bar," the bartender chuckled. He adjusted his hat brim and gave Kazawa a formal bow. "I'm Leon, your assistant."
Ah, here we go—the part where we follow the routine and act out the scene.
Kazawa blinked rapidly. "So, are you going to say those lines now?"
"What lines? 'This is a space between dream and reality, mind and matter' or something like that? You already know all that, so there's no need to waste time," Leon shook his head, not indulging Kazawa's dramatic flair. He simply turned the glass over and slid it to him.
"Ah, so you do know everything. Including things like 'manga,' 'games,' and 'transmigration,' huh?" Kazawa tapped the empty glass, not sounding surprised.
From Leon's earlier reply, it was clear he understood Kazawa's implied meaning—which meant he also knew about Kazawa's real life experience.
Leon nodded and admitted it directly: "That's right. Whatever you know, I'll know too."
Kazawa let out a breath of relief and accepted the setup with ease, even feeling pretty lucky.
You see, the Persona series' foundational concepts are drawn from Jungian psychology, with heavy mysticism and cult-like undertones. Most characters who know the truth of the world act like secret-keepers, always speaking cryptically.
He shifted into a more relaxed posture, resting his head on his palm and exhaling deeply: "Phew—yeah, that's good. Having to listen to riddles in a dream would've been way too painful. Since you fully understand, let's be open and honest. There's no Igor here, right? Is it because this world's seams are… strange?"
Igor, the old man with white hair and a long nose who appears in multiple Persona games as the Velvet Room's master, is essentially a construct created by human rationality. He serves as a "wise guide" to the protagonist and connects story arcs by cryptically hinting at truths.
In P5, Igor's role is even a key part of the plot. If he's missing here, it probably means Kazawa's world has completely diverged from P5's original storyline.
Leon spread his hands and made a helpless expression. "Not sure, that's probably it? But it doesn't really matter. We're all 'off-the-books personnel' now anyway."
At the words "off-the-books personnel," Kazawa's face immediately darkened.
"No need to mock me like that."
"Sorry, didn't mean to." Leon smiled, though his expression didn't look apologetic at all. He just shrugged again, looking casual. "Don't worry, it's all from your 'past life,' after all."
"Don't make it sound like I've been here a long time. Just yesterday I was happily being a stay-at-home otaku. I closed my eyes and boom—new life." At this, Kazawa suddenly thought of the games he hadn't finished and the manga and novels he hadn't caught up on. He clutched his chest in agony. "I haven't even gotten to Zel●a 2 yet!"
He had originally been living a carefree life with food and shelter secured, free to laze around until retirement. Overnight, he was fast-forwarded to life's end—who could've seen that coming?
"But you're actually kind of excited, aren't you?" Leon didn't bother humoring Kazawa's exaggerated grief, and instead chose to expose his real thoughts.
Kazawa froze, coughed awkwardly, and sat back in a lazy posture again: "…You can see through that too?"
Yeah. Sudden transmigration might be a disaster for someone with a peaceful, uneventful life who didn't want trouble. But for Kazawa…
A stagnant life like dead water, a future where he could already see his grave—his so-called going with the flow was just resignation, not preference.
As he thought this, Kazawa subconsciously stroked his now completely uninjured, smooth-kneed legs.
"I'm your assistant, your mirror, your companion and your accomplice," Leon tipped his hat to him, then gestured at the empty glass. "Now that the bar is open—would you like a drink?"
"I told you I don't drink anymore…"
"I know. So, do you want one?"
"…Ahem. Yes."
Not at all surprised by Kazawa's sudden change of heart, Leon pulled out a bottle of liquor.
The reddish amber liquid poured into the glass. Kazawa leaned in to sniff the rich aroma of grains, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Is this bourbon whiskey? Are you trying to hint at something?"
"No hint." Leon turned slightly and revealed the bar's back wall—currently very empty. Only the front row held various brands of bourbon whiskey. "It's just that… this is all we have."
"Because I ran into 'Bourbon'? That's… kind of crude, isn't it?" Kazawa clicked his tongue, but still picked up the glass and took a sip.
The smooth, sweet flavor and familiar alcohol made him squint in contentment, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously.
"This is terrible. Quitting alcohol isn't easy. If I relapse, I can't even buy beer—I'm underage, remember?" Kazawa grumbled while happily sipping more.
"Don't worry, it won't affect your real-life condition. Just think of it as… a reward Easter egg."
"A reward? Encouraging me to get close to the Black Organization for more drinks?" Kazawa tsked in disapproval. "That's kind of insulting, don't you think?"
"It's just a little collectible—think of it as an achievement to unlock," Leon replied, knowing exactly how to smooth things over for Kazawa.
As a completionist gamer who collected every trophy and platinumed every game, Kazawa immediately felt respected. Letting go of his earlier complaints, he turned to the key topic: "Alright, so what's my mission? Do I have to enter the cognitive world and fight? Stop the fusion of cognition and the physical world?"
He understood P5's world. He understood the Conan world. But fused together? He had no clue.
P5's worldview was supernatural—though it was a psychological supernatural, turning people's cognition into a tangible inner world. Those who could influence cognition naturally gained the power to affect reality in turn. Symbolic, yes, but still beyond the physical world.
The P5 main story, from a worldview perspective, was about understanding the relationship between cognition and reality, and ultimately making a choice—bravely facing the truth to save the world.
But Conan? As much as Newton was spinning in his grave here—kicking satellites, punching out superhuman feats—the manga stubbornly pretended to be materialist and rejected the supernatural, staying a proper mystery series.
Its main plot was spy warfare and police vs. criminal intrigue, full of double bluffs, strategy battles, and the constant three-way guessing game with the Black Organization, pushing the protagonist to uncover and defeat the mysterious group.
How would these two even combine?
It just felt weird.
Leon shook his head, denying Kazawa's assumption, and gave him the first shocking answer of the night:
"No need. In this world, they've already fused long ago."