Class C? Wasn't it Class D?

Over the next few days, Yuefeng felt as if he had been shoved into a high-speed device called the "Elite Life Experience Machine," helpless and dizzy.

First, there was the "home." It was less of a home and more of a small museum-meets-art-gallery.

The hallways were long enough to run a marathon in, and every piece of decor in the rooms radiated an aura of "I am very expensive, do not touch me."

His nominal father was nowhere to be seen, while the household staff were so well-trained and respectful that it made him feel completely ill at ease.

He had tried to break the ice by asking, "Um... excuse me, where is the kitchen? I'd like to make a bowl of noodles."

The result was a perfect smile and a fifteen-degree bow in response: "Young Master Yuefeng, if you are hungry, the chef can prepare a Michelin three-star standard late-night snack for you at any time. Or do you have a preference for a specific cuisine?"

Yuefeng: "...No, thank you, I'm suddenly not hungry anymore." He missed the steaming bowl of plain noodles from Old Wang, the ones where the scallions were sometimes burnt.

Second, there was the "equipment." His wardrobe was filled with nothing but designer clothing, ranging from casual to formal, with measurements precise to the millimeter.

On Monday morning, when he was "invited" to stand before the full-length mirror, he looked at the boy reflected back—dressed in an expensive private school uniform, not the style from the Advanced Nurturing High School in the book.

Yet, it was just as excessively refined, and even his hair strands gave off an aura of "having been groomed by money," leaving him in a state of deep self-doubt.

"Is this me?" He poked the face in the mirror, which was almost identical to Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, only lacking that "AI-like indifference" in his temperament.

Instead, it held a bit more of a "Who am I, where am I, where has this brought me, is this even still in the country?" kind of bewilderment.

The driver opened the door for him, and the low-profile but definitely not cheap sedan slid smoothly into the Tokyo traffic.

Yuefeng clutched the "Elite Survival Kit," which was stuffed with brand-new stationery, a tablet, and some items whose purposes he hadn't yet figured out.

He gazed out the window at the rapidly receding city scenery, which felt both familiar and strange, his mood heavier than when he had headed to the college entrance exam.

"Advanced Nurturing High School... where ability is everything..." He muttered to himself, trying to recall details from the original book.

Starting in Class D, the point system, the Uninhabited Island Exam, the Sports Festival, the Special Exam for VIPs... every term felt like a heavy stone, slamming into his fragile nerves.

"If a normal person like me goes in there, won't I just be background noise? No, I'll be cannon fodder."

"And I have to 'guide' Kiyotaka? I'm afraid I'll be the first one to be 'optimized' out of the picture..."

The car drove out of the city and onto the cross-sea bridge leading to the artificial island.

When that campus, which looked like a city of the future, gradually became clear in his field of vision, Yuefeng's heartbeat reached a whole new frequency.

Grand, it was just too grand.

Modern teaching buildings, vast green spaces, and all sorts of facilities that looked high-end.

And, at the school gate, a dense crowd of freshmen, all wearing brand-new uniforms with varying expressions—some excited, some nervous, some curious, and some as bewildered as he was.

The car stopped in an inconspicuous corner.

The secretary handed him an envelope and a brand-new smartphone: "Young Master Yuefeng, your class information, campus guide, and dedicated S Points account have been activated."

"The master has instructed that, unless absolutely necessary, the family will not contact you. Please... enjoy your campus life, and always keep your 'mission' in mind."

Yuefeng took the items, feeling as if the envelope and phone weighed a thousand pounds. "Enjoy life? This is clearly Wilderness Survival: Plus Edition."

He took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and stepped onto the grounds of the Advanced Nurturing High School.

Then, he immediately felt the first wave of impact from the "ability is everything" atmosphere—the gazes of the surrounding students.

Those gazes swept back and forth like searchlights, quickly evaluating each other's family backgrounds, temperaments, and even the quality of their personal belongings.

Yuefeng could feel quite a few stares lingering on him for a moment.

This was mainly due to his face, which was highly similar to someone else's, and his attire, which was clearly not the school's standard uniform and was equally expensive.

"Look, that person... is his uniform a bit different?"

"He looks a bit familiar..."

"Is he a transfer student? Transferring on the first day of school?"

"His vibe is a bit... well, subtle."

Yuefeng quickly lowered his head and quickened his pace, trying to blend into the crowd.

Right now, he just wanted to find the bulletin board immediately, confirm his class, and then shrink into a corner of the classroom.

However, fate did not seem to intend to let him off that easily.

Just as he was walking with his head down, nearly bumping into a sturdy boy who was also looking at the bulletin, a calm, ripple-free voice—one so familiar it made his scalp tingle—sounded not far away.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange, piercing quality, drilling accurately into his ears:

"As expected, just as I predicted, it's Class D."

Yuefeng stiffened, his blood feeling as if it had instantly flowed backward.

Like a rusted robot, he turned his head extremely slowly, one notch at a time.

In the crowd, one figure stood out as unremarkable.

Medium build, ordinary black hair, ordinary features, an ordinary stance; the only thing about him that wasn't ordinary was those dark brown eyes, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if they could absorb all light.

Kiyotaka Ayanokoji.

He was looking at the bulletin board calmly, as if he were merely confirming some trivial matter.

The wailing, complaining, and disbelief of the surrounding Class D students seemed to have nothing to do with him.

Yuefeng's breathing stopped. His brain was screaming frantically: It's him! He's real! The CPU-kun has come to life!

Should I go up and say hello? What would I say? "Hi, little brother, I'm your long-lost twin, and Dad sent me to drag you back"?

I'd be treated like a lunatic on the spot! No, given Kiyotaka Ayanokoji's personality, he might analyze the probability of my mental breakdown with a blank expression, then silently back away three meters!

Just as Yuefeng was locked in an internal struggle, his feet rooted to the spot, Kiyotaka's gaze seemed to sweep over him inadvertently.

Their eyes met for a brief tenth of a second.

Yuefeng's heart skipped a beat. He saw it! He definitely saw me! With this face, there's no way he wouldn't react!

However, there was not a ripple in Kiyotaka's eyes. No surprise, no confusion, no curiosity, not even the slightest pause.

It was as if he had seen a slightly unusual rock on the side of the road, or an insignificant typo on the bulletin board.

His gaze slid calmly past Yuefeng and landed back on the bulletin board—or more accurately, on the Class D roster—as if he were pondering something.

Immediately after, Yuefeng watched as Kiyotaka began to walk toward the representatives of Class D who had already started to "give up on themselves"—the overly energetic Sudo Ken, the displeased-looking Horikita Suzune.

And Hirata Yosuke, who was trying to appease the crowd—his back was soon swallowed by the throng of people.

Yuefeng stood where he was, stunned for a full ten seconds.

"He... didn't recognize me? No, that's impossible, this face is ironclad proof. Did he... ignore me?" Yuefeng suddenly felt it was absurd, yet also felt a strange sense of... relief?

"That's right, in Kiyotaka's 'plans' or 'observation lists,' a transfer student who suddenly pops up claiming to be his brother probably counts as an 'unplanned variable.' Before figuring out the nature and intent of this variable."

"The best strategy is... to ignore it for now and wait and see."

Having figured this out, Yuefeng wasn't as panicked anymore. In fact, a peculiar spirit of "former reader" snark began to burn within him.

"Alright, Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, you're steady. You meet me and your first move is a 'total ignore,' huh? Fine, that's very Kiyotaka." Yuefeng rubbed his chin, his eyes gradually shifting from initial panic to a somewhat... eerie glint.

"A mission, is it? To guide you, is it? Fine. Since you're starting off by pretending not to know me, I won't be polite either."

He took out his phone and glanced at his class assignment.

"First year... Class C?"

Yuefeng raised an eyebrow. Class C? Not in the same class as Kiyotaka, not in Class D where the original protagonists were, and not in the elite-packed Class A.

Class C... in the original story, was that the class known for "unity," or rather, the "high-pressure rule" under Ryuen Kakeru, with a subtle presence early on and starting trouble later?

"Class C... Ryuen Kakeru, Ishizaki Daichi, Ibuki Mio..." These names flashed through Yuefeng's mind, and his mouth couldn't help but twitch.

"This starting difficulty... doesn't seem much lower than being thrown directly into Class D to face my 'lovely' little brother."

However, looking at it from another angle, being in Class C might allow him to avoid the messy troubles of Class D early on and observe Kiyotaka from a relatively "safe" distance.

Moreover, the "unity" of Class C was built on Ryuen's physical threats and a certain twisted cohesion; for a "transfer student" and "outsider" like him, it was both an opportunity and a challenge.

"The mission objective is to 'guide' Kiyotaka back..." Yuefeng put his phone away, looked in the direction Kiyotaka had disappeared, and then looked at the sign for the Class C assembly point.

A smile appeared on his face—the first since he had transmigrated—tinged with a bit of self-abandonment and mischievousness.

"CPU-kun little brother, and that control-freak Dad... one of you treats me as a variable, the other as a tool." He muttered to himself.

He started walking toward Class C, his stride actually firmer than before.

"Fine, then let's see, in this game of 'ability supremacy,' which progress bar this accidental 'bug' of an intruder will end up crashing."

"First, let me go meet that 'Tyrant' classmate of mine."

"I hope his attitude toward a transfer student is... a little more enthusiastic than Kiyotaka's was toward me."

"At least give me some eye contact? I'd even pay for it!"

As he walked, he began drafting his thoughts, considering what to say when he met his Class C classmates, especially the legendary "dictator" Ryuen Kakeru.

Should the first sentence be "Hello everyone, I'm the new guy, please take care of me."

Or "Reporting for duty, Boss, the new guy Yuefeng has arrived. Which class's turf are we raiding today?"

Hmm, that really is a serious question. After all, this counts as a display of "ability" in a certain sense, right?

Even if this ability might be a bit skewed.