Class 1-D

I didn't attend the opening ceremony. After roughly strolling through the commercial district, I returned to the dormitory. Looking at the luxurious single room, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in my heart.

If any school in my past life had offered free tuition and luxury single dorms, they'd definitely have been blown up by capitalists.

Lying in bed, I played on my phone, browsing through various news articles.

I glanced at the time on my phone. There was still some time before gathering in the classroom—just enough for one thing.

Check in.

System:

Today's check-in reward: ten Nano Cameras.

Function: Directly linked to the host's phone, capable of infiltrating a designated target at the nano level and recording everything happening around it.

Looking at the ten tiny spheres, each less than a millimeter in diameter, that had appeared in my hand, I smiled faintly.

I picked one up and pressed it against a button. The sphere instantly spread over the surface at a speed invisible to the naked eye. Seeing that the button looked completely unchanged, I opened the linked app on my phone. I could clearly see every direction around the button, and even the faint sound of a finger lightly tapping the desk came through with perfect clarity.

It seemed Lady Luck was smiling at me. With these, my plans at this school would be much simpler.

I noticed the time on my phone. It was time to get up and head to the classroom. Missing the self-introduction session wouldn't be worth it.

I looked at the sign on the classroom door.

1-D

"I want to be friends with everyone!"

A voice came from inside the room. It seemed I wasn't late—it was exactly the self-introduction time. And judging by the words, it was probably Handprint Sister's signature speech.

I pushed open the door.

Everyone's gaze converged on me. An ordinary person might have faltered under such attention, but who was I? I was the man destined to become the king of the harem.

"Good morning, everyone!"

I greeted them with a smile.

At that moment, many people snapped out of it. The ever-friendly Hirata Yosuke responded directly.

"G-good morning! You're also a Class D student, right? What perfect timing—we're just doing self-introductions. Would you like to give it a try?"

"Sure."

Taking the cue, I walked straight to the podium and wrote my name in bold strokes.

"Gojo Satoru."

"That's my name. Seventeen years old, unmarried. My current hobbies are singing, dancing, and basketball. As for other activities, I know a little of everything. I like sweets, especially soybean-cream-filled daifuku. I came to this school for a better future. That's all!"

Hearing this passionate self-introduction, the class was momentarily at a loss.

Seeing their confusion, Gojo Satoru simply added, "Huh? I finished my intro, so why aren't you clapping? Where's the applause?" He then started clapping on his own.

Overwhelmed by his sheer audacity—the kind that terrorizes society—everyone hesitantly joined in with applause.

But Gojo Satoru completely ignored them. After wiping his name off the board, he walked to a seat and promptly fell asleep. The students were utterly bewildered, unsure how to judge this strange man in the blindfold. Even those who had wanted to ask why he wore it quietly dropped the thought.

After a moment of silence, the class returned to its self-introduction session.

Because Sudo Ken had already been disciplined, he didn't kick the table and storm out. Instead, he gave a simple introduction—after all, he didn't want his left hand wrapped in bandages like his right.

Without him leading the charge, the class didn't see a mass exodus of students skipping their introductions.

After the introductions ended, everyone remained silent. After all, there was a conspicuous figure sleeping on the desk.

They exchanged glances, unsure how to start a conversation. It wasn't an introduction session anymore, and disturbing his sleep with that terrifying social presence of his might bring unpleasant consequences.

Soon, the classroom door opened again, and a broad-minded older woman walked in.

"I'm Chabashira Sae, the homeroom teacher for Class D. This school doesn't change classes, so for the next three years until graduation, I will be your homeroom teacher."

Her cold words, paired with her hollow eyes, made the already silent classroom even more oppressive.

Looking at the only student sleeping in the room, Chabashira felt puzzled. Is this the specially invited student? From the surveillance footage and his strange outfit, he doesn't look like a genius at all.

After a brief pause, she continued.

"Wake up the sleeping student. What I'm about to say is important—make sure no one misses it."

"Teacher, I've been listening the whole time."

"Then take off that blindfold! Lying there with it on, who knows if you're asleep."

Chabashira's slightly irritated response made the classroom atmosphere drop even further.

"Huh? No way. Every time I take off the blindfold, I get harassed. It's tough being handsome~"

Even though I now had so many skills that not covering my eyes wouldn't affect daily life much, constantly receiving a flood of useless information was too troublesome. It was more comfortable to keep the blindfold on. At worst, I could switch to sunglasses later—less coverage, but better than nothing.

Hearing Gojo Satoru's annoyingly smug tone, a vein bulged on Chabashira's forehead. She wanted to say more but only let out a sigh.

"I'll hand out materials about the school. Those in the front, pass them back."

Watching the materials and student ID cards slowly being passed down, Gojo Satoru felt a flicker of doubt in his mind. Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School...

99.9% of students can land their desired job, with state-of-the-art facilities. The school distributes currency monthly, and its policies on hairstyles and personal belongings are extremely liberal. The school guide pamphlet paints it as a dreamlike institution written in fantasy.

However, the reality is that everything is measured by one's own ability—a completely meritocratic educational system.

Comprehensive scores from entrance exams (including written tests and interviews) determine class placement, from Class A down. Those with high innate ability are inevitably assigned to Class A. Since those with low ability end up in Class D, the point gap only widens after enrollment.

The excellent are treated with due respect as excellent individuals. Because interviews—i.e., personal appearance—carry more weight than written exams, Class D inevitably gathers a bunch of problem children (defective products).

'So what could be the reason I was assigned to Class D? My academics and athletics are flawless, my thinking ability far exceeds the norm, and I have no social issues—after all, in middle school I led the basketball team to three consecutive national championships (meaning I toyed with nine people single-handedly in every game). The most likely reason should be a trial!

Since this school's founding, no class has ever started in D and ended in A. The closest was Chabashira-sensei's class, which reached B and fell just short of A.

And I'm an absolute genius. At 14, I won the Nobel Prize in Literature for the mystery novel My Name is Red, and was personally invited by the University of Tokyo's president to enroll—but I turned it down. Compared to that, finding a wife here is more important. An absolute genius youth wrapped in various awards breaking this school's record—that's quite interesting.

Even if I guessed the reason, being assigned to D still stings a bit, so screwing over the chairman once shouldn't be a problem, right?'

Just as I settled on a mischievous plan in my mind, that cold voice rang out.

"First, this school has a special rule: boarding is mandatory.

During the school term, leaving campus is restricted, and all external communication is cut off. But rest assured, the school has various facilities where you can buy all daily necessities.

There are also various forms of entertainment, so your daily life won't feel dull—it might even be more enjoyable than your previous life."

Chabashira Sae finished speaking, then picked up her phone and shook it before continuing.

"All purchases on campus require points stored in the Student ID Terminal System. It works similarly to online payments—anything in this school can be bought with points!"

"Points are automatically deposited on the first of every month. One point equals one yen. Your student ID systems have already received this month's 100,000 points."

As soon as she finished, the entire class erupted in excitement.

100,000 yen is a considerable sum for a high school student—and it's received every month, obtained so easily.

Without any effort, they could earn 100,000 points monthly, making most students' smiles harder to suppress than an AK. However, a small number sensed something off.

But the teacher's next words silenced that minority.

"Don't be surprised by the points the school gives you. This school measures everything by student ability. Since you have these points, it means you have this ability."

"However, there's one thing to note: points can be transferred between individuals, but you cannot intimidate others. The school's penalties for bullying are very strict."

It seemed like all the rules had been laid out, but many puzzles remained.

Whether 100,000 points would be deposited every first of the month, whether points could increase or decrease, and what caused those changes—countless mysteries went unsolved, yet most students couldn't be bothered to ask, already lost in their beautiful fantasies.

But it didn't matter. Pulling Class D up to A through normal methods was impossible.

Even if I explained the entire S-system now, we might not reach Class A next month—maybe not even Class B.

If they wanted to indulge, I'd do the same. A month of freedom wouldn't hurt.

But even if 100,000 points were deposited monthly, it was too little for me. My monthly dessert expenses alone start at 500,000, so I'd still need to earn some pocket money.