Copy Robot's POV:
I watched Kirei Suzuki walk away, her confidence a tangible aura even from a distance. My brain, ever vigilant for efficiency, immediately began a new calculation. If I had pressed her, leveraged her apparent desire to impress Perman, I might have been able to secure some financial resources from her. Money was currently a critical missing element in Mitsuo's overall 'efficiency' profile. While his superheroics addressed immediate crises, a lack of personal funds often led to inconveniences and limitations in his daily life. Money, in the human world, provided a significant degree of freedom and reduced external dependencies.
But then, a conflicting thought emerged. To ask a girl for money, especially one so overtly attempting to establish a personal connection, would be a gross misstep in terms of Perman's, and by extension, Mitsuo's reputation. It would convey a sense of dependency, a lack of self-sufficiency. If I were to operate like Payan, who earned his money through hard work and various jobs, it would take a significant amount of time – time that was better spent on Mitsuo's accelerated intellectual and physical training. Moreover, such 'manual labor' would inevitably lead to exposure and risks to Perman's secret identity.
No. I needed a more efficient solution. What would be the best way to earn a substantial amount of money in the shortest possible time, specifically for Perman, and without compromising his, or my, reputation? The solution needed to be clean, fast, and high-yield.
"So.... What to do about that?" I murmured
Just then, an idea, a truly optimal solution, formed in my perfectly copied and perfected brain. It leveraged existing power structures, minimized physical effort, and maximized returns.
Perman's POV:
I was practically floating home. The morning sun was warm on my back, and the city below hummed with a renewed sense of purpose. Today felt different. All day at school, my brain had been buzzing. Concepts that usually made me yawn in class seemed to click into place. When the teacher called on me, the answers just… came. It was like someone had oiled the rusty gears in my head. I felt smart, genuinely smart, not just memorizing, but understanding. And my body felt lighter, quicker. During P.E., I'd outrun everyone, not even realizing how fast I was going until my classmates were gasping behind me. My thinking process, too, felt… sharper, more direct. It was like I could see the shortest path to a solution, whether it was a math problem or figuring out how to quickly finish my lunch. This 'Perfect Copy Robot' thing was really working!
Thinking this, a wide grin on my face, I slipped through my window and announced, "I'm home!"
"Welcome back, Mitsuo!" my mom called from the kitchen, the familiar scent of her cooking already wafting through the house.
I walked into my room, ready to change and talk to the robot about my amazing day. But the moment I looked into my room, I stopped dead. My jaw dropped.
My room, usually a chaotic but familiar mess, was transformed. My desk, which normally held only schoolbooks and comics, was now covered with a dazzling array of brand-new gadgets. There was a sleek, futuristic-looking mobile phone, a powerful laptop glowing faintly with a standby light, wireless Bluetooth earbuds, chargers, cables, and even a compact, high-tech camera. It looked like a miniature electronics store had exploded in my room.
And there, sitting casually amidst this bounty, was the Copy Robot, now in Perman's set, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his perfect face.
"Whose are all these?" I stammered, pointing at the incredible haul, my mind reeling.
The Copy Robot looked at me, a gleam in his eye. "They belong to both of us," he replied, his voice calm, as if this was completely normal.
"How?" I managed, still trying to process the sheer volume of expensive-looking tech. "Did… did you find them? Are they stolen?" The thought made my stomach clench. Perman didn't deal in stolen goods!
The robot shook his head. "No, Mitsuo. I purchased all of it."
"Purchased?" I echoed, my voice incredulous. "With what money? Where did you get the money to buy all this?" My allowance certainly didn't cover even one of those gadgets, let alone a whole pile!
The robot's smirk widened, a truly uncanny imitation of my own mischievous grin. He reached into a hidden pocket of the Perman suit and pulled out a small, folded photo. He held it out to me.
I took the photo, my eyes scanning the image. It was a picture of Perman – me, technically, in my red cape and helmet – standing on a brightly lit stage. Beside me, smiling broadly and shaking my hand, was a dignified-looking man in a sharp suit. Behind us, there was a massive banner with some political slogans and a prominent party symbol. The whole thing looked like a campaign rally.
I was still utterly confused. "Who is this man?" I asked, looking from the photo to the robot.
The robot's eyes seemed to glitter. "That man," he began, his voice taking on a slightly more serious, almost business-like tone, "is a politician. A good one, I might add. One with a strong public service record and progressive policies."
My confusion only deepened. "So… what does that have to do with these gadgets? And money?"
The robot leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "I made a deal with that politician. A very simple, mutually beneficial arrangement. Perman would publicly support him in his campaign. This public endorsement, from the city's beloved superhero, would guarantee him a significant surge in votes. And in return, he provided us with... financial compensation for our 'consulting services,' to ensure Perman's continued efficiency."
My jaw must have hit the floor. "What?!" I exclaimed, practically shouting. "Perman shouldn't take money from anyone! We're heroes! We help people because it's the right thing to do, not for payment!" It felt completely wrong, like a betrayal of everything we stood for.
The robot raised an eyebrow, a perfect mimicry of my own disbelief. "Then what does Payan do, Mitsuo? Where does he get his money to pay for his living expenses? Do you think he works tirelessly for free?"
"He… he earns money through his hard work!" I insisted, thinking of Payan's various odd jobs and diligent savings.
"Precisely," the robot countered, his voice like a laser. "But that money isn't just from Payan's 'hard work.' It's from his Perman power. It's his ability to use his strength and the Perman identity to complete tasks that others cannot, which he then monetizes. And I," the robot added, a hint of triumph in his voice, "haven't even used Perman's physical power. I merely leveraged his reputation and influence. It's an investment in societal good. Furthermore, Perman supporting that politician will ensure he gets more votes, and he will undoubtedly win the upcoming election. If a good, honest politician remains in power, enacting beneficial policies, it will be good for the world, resulting in a more stable and prosperous society for everyone. Is that not a heroic outcome?"
I was speechless, grappling with his cold, hard logic. It made a disturbing kind of sense. "But… but what if that politician turns out to be bad?" I asked, a flicker of genuine worry returning. "What if he's not as 'good' as you say, and he abuses his power once he's in office?"
The robot's expression remained perfectly calm. "I have already discussed everything with him, in extensive detail. We have established clear parameters and expectations. My internal analysis suggests a high probability of adherence to his stated promises. However," he concluded, his voice dropping slightly, "if the politician still goes back on his word after this, if he deviates from the path of good governance, then I," the robot tapped his temple, a subtle, almost menacing gesture, "will finished him off myself. Perman will know."
He looked at me, his eyes unwavering. "Is that not the ultimate form of proactive heroism, Mitsuo? To ensure good governance while also securing the necessary resources for your personal development?"
I just stared, a complex mix of shock, admiration, and utter bewilderment swirling in my mind. My robot double, my perfect copy, had just secured a political endorsement deal for me. And gotten paid for it. This month was going to be even wilder than I'd imagined.