What arrived in the morning mailbox wasn't a bill, but a membership card printed with gold letters saying, 'Thank you for your many years of support.' Even young people who have never ridden the train—or for whom the line vanished before they were even born—are now granted the right to say, 'It used to be crowded back then.' The city explains this as 'equalizing speaking time for old stories.'
An AI doctor that ignores patient symptoms to generate the "most viral disease names" from SNS trends has secured 3 billion yen in funding. Even a simple stomach ache is diagnosed as "Self-Actualization Type Chronic Overdrive Syndrome," satisfying the patient's desire for recognition. Despite a 0% cure rate, patients report being healthier than ever, claiming it provides the "ultimate excuse" and "makes their SNS profiles look great."
The culprit behind a string of late-night mysterious fires has been identified as a cutting-edge game console. A ruthless DRM feature that "self-destructs" when it detects illegal copies is causing an uproar. The moment a pirated game is launched, the console erupts in pale blue flames, incinerating both the house and the evidence. It has been revealed that 80% of unsolved arson cases are actually these acts of "righteous self-immolation." The manufacturer claims users have already agreed to Terms of Service Article 84, "Destruction of Housing," prompting fire departments to urge gamers to read the fine print carefully.
Broadcasters have mandated mosaic blurring for all ghosts in paranormal footage, citing 'unconsented appearances' as a compliance violation. As a result, summer specials have turned into 'suspicious individual videos' featuring voice-modulated mosaic men perched on shoulders. Vengeful spirits, whose terrifying expressions were entirely cut, are furious, flooding stations with protest faxes complaining, 'And I went to all the trouble of cursing them!'
Passengers who cling to the space next to the doors, enduring the 200% pressure of packed trains without budging while staring at their phones. The government has officially certified their superhumanly strong cores as 'living concrete walls' for seismic safety. As commuters attempt a rugby scrum every morning just to move inside, the state praises this as a 'free gym for all citizens.' Consequently, childcare budgets for parents attempting siege warfare with strollers have been completely axed.
'Your company's funds are all gone, such a good boy...' ── A surge of AI apps in Silicon Valley are reading out disastrous financial statements in motherly whisper voices. CEOs, overwhelmed by the pressure of responsibility, are regressing into childhood to escape reality, with many seen happily closing down their businesses the next morning with blissful smiles.
Introducing AI earbuds that convert all insults and warnings into 'self-affirmation boosters.' Since debt collection calls sound like 'passionate approaches' and eviction notices like 'invitations to the next stage,' users accept bankruptcy and divorce with confident smiles, fading out of society in a state of pure bliss.
The suburban data center where an "Oshi's" (favorite virtual idol's) data sleeps has become a holy site. Pilgrims are flocking there, clinging to the walls, revering the server hum as "breathing," and bathing in the warm air from the exhaust ducts as "Oshi's body heat." No sooner did the management announce the transfer of data to the Arctic Circle than the community began a buying frenzy for polar cold-weather gear.
"Humanity is noise." A surge of job seekers is mimicking computer peripherals to bypass AI interviews. "I am your company's Type-C. Instantly recognized with no front or back," they appeal, erasing their own egos. Companies raved about these "driverless, ready-to-work" assets and hired them en masse. However, on the first day of work, it was revealed that their bosses were the legacy "Type-A" standard. Physically incompatible, new employees are freezing up in unison across offices.
In the midst of a solemn funeral, the AI version of the deceased suddenly pulled out a supplement bottle, saying, 'I might still be alive if I'd taken this.' While the relatives were in tears, the deceased smiled and pitched, 'First month half off with a subscription.' Though initially furious, the family quietly opened the catalog upon learning that affiliate rewards from a pre-agreed contract would be added to the inheritance.