In Classroom of the Elite, but in the Underworld Chapter 5

"That woman, she really has a sharp tongue."

"Yeah..." Ayanokoji didn't say anything else.

He hadn't wanted to come in the first place, and now he'd just been mocked on top of it.

If this kept up, he might actually awaken some kind of strange fetish.

"Forget it, there's plenty of time ahead, we can build a relationship slowly," Eito said with a smile.

"You're really optimistic..."

"Are you done picking your things out? Do you want to check out some other stores?"

"I still need to grab some daily necessities, wait a moment." Ayanokoji walked toward the counters labeled with free items.

"Mm."

Eito's gaze shifted back toward the direction where Suzune had already walked away.

In truth, he had just thought of dozens of ways to make Suzune submit, but considering this was a public place and Ayanokoji was present, he hadn't bothered to retort.

More importantly, he had unexpectedly discovered that Suzune was actually quite cute when she was like this, so he let her behavior slide.

Sometimes being hated wasn't such a bad thing, because there was no need to worry about maintaining interpersonal relationships anymore.

Even if he did something even more detestable to her, it would just be "hated +1."

Chapter 6: Yamauchi's Confession Plan

Somewhere in Advanced Nurturing High School in Tokyo.

In a dark, secluded corner.

"What, Yamauchi, you're going to confess to Kushida?" Ike Kanji asked, surprised.

"Yeah, so hurry up and think of a way for me. How are you supposed to confess to a girl again?"

"...Uh, I don't know either, but you're probably not going to succeed." Ike Kanji waved his hand.

"Why?"

"Because—Kushida likes me, so you definitely don't stand a chance."

"Ha? Is your brain broken?" Yamauchi said, speechless. "Someone like you, an ugly freak, is liked by someone?"

"Hey, we're both in the same boat, what are you even talking about?"

"Ike, why do you think I became friends with you? Isn't it because you're ugly?"

"What a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing."

"You guy!"

"Come on, let's duel! We have to decide a winner today!"

"Bring it on. If I don't beat you into an ugly mess, I won't be called Grandpa Yamauchi."

"...Hitting the face? How despicable! Take this—"

"Ugh... sneak attacking my vitals, you dog!"

Ten minutes later.

The two of them, bruised and swollen, lay on the ground with their limbs spread out in a sprawl.

Ike Kanji said weakly:

"Yamauchi... what exactly are we doing?"

"Dueling." Yamauchi glared at him and lay back down. "Only the winner has the right to confess to Kikyo."

"Then you win, go ahead. Don't come crying to me when you get rejected."

"What do you take me for?" Yamauchi said irritably. "I... I just have my eyes on Kikyo's body. I don't actually like her, geez."

"You're such a lousy person... really."

"Aren't you the same... you have the nerve to talk to me like that."

Ike Kanji fell silent.

There were some things he knew, but saying them out loud was a different matter entirely.

Just like how he said Kikyo liked him—that was merely to satisfy his own vanity.

He knew clearly that there were plenty of boys more popular than him, like the class's popular king, Hirata Yosuke. Even if Kikyo liked Hirata, she wouldn't like him.

Although he still held a sliver of hope in his heart, like a gambler, fantasizing that Kikyo might actually fall for him, there was more of the helplessness of reality.

Reality.

A terrifying thing.

No one can decide their own appearance, no one can decide their own intelligence, and no one can decide their family background.

Everything in this world is like destiny; the ending is set from the moment of birth. Geniuses can obtain what they want without the slightest effort.

A fool, even if they exhausted their entire life, would never be able to catch up.

He knew he was a fool.

But, if even he denied himself.

Then, I'm afraid, there would be nothing left at all.

"Yamauchi, you won, go ahead and confess."

"I won from the start, obviously." Yamauchi curled his lip, "So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Are you sure you want to ask me?"

"...Uh."

Only then did Yamauchi realize the crux of the problem; he seemed to have asked the wrong person.

Hadn't that fight been for nothing then?

Damn it.

In the end, Yamauchi still prepared to consult Eito. After all, it was Eito who told him to confess, so he had to see it through to the end.

He searched half the school and finally found him under a parasol in front of the bubble tea shop.

At this moment, he was alone, a cup of lemon tea sitting on the table before him. He rested his chin on one hand while the other held the rim of the cup.

Every so often, he would take a sip through the straw. His eyes seemed unfocused, as if he were lost in thought, his expression both relaxed and tinged with a hint of melancholy.

That handsome face seemed to grant him a charm bonus, and combined with the quiet surroundings, he formed a special space within a half-meter radius, as if he were in another world, completely out of place with the area around him.

This strange atmosphere made the occasional passerby unable to help but steal a glance at him.

Yamauchi mercilessly shattered the atmosphere, sitting down in front of Eito:

"Hey, what are you pretending to be? Some old grandpa on vacation?"

"Huh?"

Eito woke up, looking at him in confusion.

Although he didn't speak, Yamauchi read the simple, easy-to-understand message in those eyes.

[What kind of bullshit are you spouting?]

"Never mind that. I have a question for you, and you better be honest: how is one supposed to go about a confession? Even though I don't want to admit it, you should know how, right?"

"Oh, it's simple." Eito slumped on the table, bored, and gestured with his index finger, "XX, I like you, would you please go out with me? ...No, I have someone I like... Sorry for bothering you. That's roughly the process."

"Stop joking around. I'm asking how I should confess to Kikyo. Can you be serious?"

Eito didn't get up, continuing to instruct him:

"That's also simple... Little Kikyo, can I marry you? ...Oh, you're so mean, Yamauchi-kun, I want to be friends with everyone, I can't marry you, meow... Wuu wuu, I don't want to live anymore, my little Kikyo, my little Kikyo, wuu wuu, wuu wuu--"

"Enough--" Yamauchi stood up in anger, his face turning red, "You're definitely just messing with me. Besides, Kikyo wouldn't say 'meow'. You're not talking about Kikyo at all."

"How do you know, meow? What if she talks like that when she's flirting with her boyfriend in private, meow?"

"What? She has a boyfriend?"

"..."

"Tell me, does she have a boyfriend or not?"

"Maybe... probably... perhaps she does. Look at how cute she is, how could she not have a boyfriend yet?"

"What!" Yamauchi shouted, "Are you saying she's not a virgin?"

"...Is that really where your focus is?"

"Impossible, you're lying." Yamauchi grabbed his collar in agitation, "Kikyo is so cute, how could she be a bitch?"

Not really wanting to comment on Yamauchi's standards for a "bitch," Eito sighed, swatted his hand away, and stood up to leave:

"Whether she's a virgin or not, you can just go ask her yourself."

"That's right. But do you think Kikyo will get angry if I ask a question like that? Would she say... Dear Yamauchi-kun, you actually suspect I'm not a virgin? Oh, you're so mean, my first time is reserved only for you, ya~ don't touch me there, I'll let you see later when we get back to the room, ah no~ don't lift my clothes here, someone will see, you're so mean... eh, where did he go?"

Yamauchi looked up, but the guy who had been there just a moment ago was nowhere to be seen.

Not far away, a few girls were covering their mouths and giggling.

"Hmph, useless piece of trash."

Yamauchi glared at the two girls, cursed Eito's entire family in his heart once more, and then left in a huff.

Chapter 7: Friends, Delicious

The school has a total of three dormitories, one for each grade level, with the boys on the lower floors and the girls on the upper floors.

Eito lived in the third room on the fourth floor of the first-year dormitory.

Each person's dormitory was independent, equipped with a bathroom and a bedroom, measuring about a dozen square meters.

Although the area wasn't particularly large, having a single room to oneself in a school—let alone a high school—was rare even in universities.

After returning from outside, he began to arrange the room.

First, the quilt, furniture, and other items had to be set in place, and then came the most crucial part.

He took several micro-cameras he had purchased earlier out of his pocket, inserted the SD cards, and installed them in inconspicuous spots, ensuring that every angle of the room could be captured; additionally, the cameras also had the function of recording audio.

He did not make these preparations because he had any peculiar hobbies, such as becoming an adult film director or anything of the sort, but rather as a precaution.

What if someone were to sneak into his room and do something malicious?

Take Ayanokoji, for example.

One must never let their guard down in front of Ayanokoji; he was someone who came out of the White Room, and although Ayanokoji treated him like a friend on the surface, he had no idea what the other party was actually thinking—whether he was being viewed as a tool or something else entirely.

Therefore, he had to prepare for the worst-case scenario; even if Ayanokoji wanted to sell him out in the future, he would be able to respond at any moment.

Fortunately, he was a transmigrator and possessed a great deal of information that others did not.

Some people worshiped strength to an excessive degree, unaware that the power of information was in no way inferior to strength.

Moreover, information was also a form of strength, and the most critical one at that.

After organizing everything, he glanced at the sunset outside the window and realized it was already dusk.

He spread his arms out and let his body collapse onto the freshly made bed, allowing every muscle and bone in his body to relax at that moment, feeling as if the fatigue accumulated throughout the day had vanished like smoke.

"So comfortable."

Everything else became insignificant; he just wanted to have a good sleep.

And then, in a daze, he truly drifted into a deep slumber.