A Max-Level Agent's Everyday High School Survival

Pretend to faint!

Ideally, it should be an epileptic seizure.

By simply reversing the flow of qi and blood, creating two minutes of full-body spasms, and forcing out half a mouthful of white foam, a perfect emergency epileptic seizure can legitimately get him into the ambulance.

But he quickly recalled Director Wang's expression before he left.

"Ah Qi, if your condition is caused by a pre-existing medical condition while you are on duty overseas, the bureau will not recognize it as a work-related injury, and you will have to pay for your own medical expenses."

Fine, I'll just have to tough it out...

He slowly straightened up, his face filled with sorrow.

A slight scraping sound came from the side.

Ichirai Hisako remained upright, staring straight ahead, but her left hand quietly pushed her textbook to the right.

The pen tip stopped right on the third paragraph of the textbook.

Night on the Galactic Railroad

Good girl!

May you live a peaceful life!

After hesitating for a moment, Sing Sing opened his mouth and, in front of all the delinquents in Class 3-D, delivered a reading that could only be described as disastrous.

What is clearly a delicate depiction of the confusion and friendship of teenagers is transformed into Shocker sense of underworld negotiations by his broken Japanese, which is mixed with a Cantonese roast duck accent.

"High high↘No--Long giao↘Fall--Aru--"

"Minasan, kole wo o ki na kawa da toi wu hei to mo ara ba..."

"Pfft!"

Someone, oblivious to the danger, let out a pig-like squeal, and the entire classroom erupted in laughter.

Even the usually quiet Ichirai Hisako's shoulders were trembling slightly.

Teacher Xiaomei took off her glasses, revealing prominent veins on the back of her hand.

She took a deep breath and swallowed back the curse word that belonged to the Ōedo Family.

Sing Sing glanced around expressionlessly.

Yellow Hair shuddered and quickly turned his laughter into a cough.

Several other unruly students nearby also realized what was happening and started coughing frantically, turning the entire classroom into a tuberculosis ward.

"Alright! Sit down!"

Kumiko Yamaguchi interrupted the commotion below with a cold expression, glaring at Sing Sing, "If you dare to daydream in class again, you'll have to copy this text by hand one hundred times!"

Sing Sing felt like he'd been granted a pardon and plopped back down in his chair.

The bell rang, signaling the end of get out of class.

To Old Zhou, the noise was even more pleasant than the welcoming music from a foot massage parlor.

"Get out of class dismissed!"

Sing Sing spread his hands out in front of him and slumped onto the desk.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, Ichirai Hisako pushed a thin piece of paper in front of him.

Course schedule for Class 3-D.

Those agonizing forty-five minutes we just endured were only the first lesson.

Below, there are three squares separating the lunch break area.

Sing Sing closed his eyes, utterly despondent.

Destroy it, quickly.

The second period was math class.

A balding old man slowly wrote a word problem on the blackboard.

The general idea is that a factory purchases raw materials, takes into account transportation distance, losses during transit, and basic costs, and calculates the final profit margin.

When Sing Sing saw this question, his professional instincts kicked in immediately.

Isn't this just business trip expense reimbursement and accounting?!

Transportation distance?

That definitely needs to include out-of-town transportation subsidies and road and bridge tolls!

Loss during transit?

That's depreciation of materials and losses due to force majeure, which requires a separate special approval process!

He became more and more engrossed in his calculations, completely absorbed in the hypothetical battle of wits and courage against Anton.

Less than two minutes.

He not only calculated the final profit, but also casually listed three lines of detailed financial explanation below.

I was really into writing it.

The balding old man had casually strolled up to him with his hands behind his back.

The old man glanced down at Sing Sing's draft paper and praised him repeatedly for his novel solution that added background context to the problem.

I made it to the third English class, and this time the teacher was a young woman.

She opened the textbook and had the students read aloud a dialogue about asking for directions on the streets of New York.

"Hoshino, please read this passage."

Sing Sing's spirits lifted.

My buddy's been living a life-or-death struggle in the US for so long, and this is just plain stupid.

He cleared his throat and read it aloud without thinking.

He uttered a string of incredibly smooth Brooklyn street slang, perfectly capturing the casualness and relaxed tone.

The female teacher's mouth gaped slightly in surprise, her brows furrowing. "Hoshino, your accent..."

"Ah, I learned it from watching movies!" Sing Sing scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly.

"I see..." The female teacher nodded with some skepticism and waved for him to sit down.

After a morning of this ordeal, Sing Sing felt it was even more grueling than fighting Mutants one-on-one.

My only solace was my quiet deskmate sitting next to me.

Whenever the class changed or a page was turned, Ichirai Hisako would always move the book a little closer to him or highlight the important points with the tip of her pen.

Sing Sing really wanted to find out about the girl's background.

In such a delinquent class full of monsters and freaks, this girl's normalcy was almost eerily strange.

But he held back.

Fieldwork Rule #2: Never show any intention of conducting a background check in front of an ordinary person.

He's just a new transfer student; asking too many questions could arouse suspicion.

Let's just consider him an idiot who can't adapt to a new environment.

When the lunch break bell rang, Sing Sing unzipped his backpack and took out the lunchbox that Liu Jianyi morning.

When the lid was lifted, his back teeth were almost crushed.

Three thin, translucent slices of cheap sausage lay pitifully atop a bowl of white rice, with a shrunken, wrinkled sour plum embedded in the center.

This is definitely because that stingy Liu Jianyi withheld the food allowance!

He could even picture the shameless face of Wang Pangzi as he approved the "bitter memories and sweet tastes" meal plan.

Sing Sing, carrying his meager lunchbox, sighed and sauntered out of the classroom, climbing the stairs all the way to the rooftop platform.

He placed the lunchbox on the steps, then leaned against the rusty iron railing, looking down at the entire campus.

The afternoon sun is lovely.

The light shone on the bustling playground, on the distant clubhouse building, and on the gloomy roof of the old school building locked with iron chains.

On the surface, it is just an ordinary Japan high school.

But in Sing Sing's eyes, that old building was a gaping black hole.

Sixty-three people were forcibly brought here and given cold, impersonal numbers.

Those innocent people who were drained of blood, dissected, and treated as expendable resources might be buried under that pile of rotting bricks and tiles.

"Mitsuhashi, you bastard! You just tried to trade my bento for meat again!"

"Tch, it's just a piece of fried chicken! Look at you, so stingy."

Sing Sing looked in the direction of the sound and saw a man with a sea urchin-like hairstyle and a golden retriever carrying lunchboxes and cursing as they came out of the stairwell.

It was Ito Shinji and Mitsuhashi Takashi.