Take a Look at the Legs

After tidying up his dorm room, Uesugi Hara headed straight for the cafeteria.

He spotted the free meal set in the corner of the serving counter at a glance. The plastic tray held rice, miso soup, and two small portions of pickles. It looked plain, yet strangely alluring—not that he was particularly hungry, but he wanted to taste exactly what this "free" experience was like.

"I'll take one of those," he said, gesturing to the cafeteria worker.

But the moment the first bite of rice hit his tongue, Uesugi Hara furrowed his brows. The rice was dry and hard, the miso soup was as thin and bland as dishwater, and the pickles had an indescribable, astringent aftertaste.

"What kind of garbage is this..." he muttered under his breath, picking up his tray to head toward the return station.

"Student, wait a moment," a staff member nearby quickly stopped him. "You can't waste the free meal; you have to finish it."

Uesugi Hara: "..."

The result was predictable.

He pinched his nose, taking one bite of rice for every three "gags," his face scrunched up like a steamed bun. Fortunately, his ability to adapt was strong enough; after forcing down a few gulps of soup, he slowly grew accustomed to the unpalatable taste, even if every bite felt like a form of torture.

Still, he decided he would never touch this free meal again for as long as he lived.

Swallowing the last mouthful, Uesugi Hara wiped his mouth and caught a glimpse of the cafeteria corner—several students were hunched over the same free meal, eating with such calm expressions that they might as well have been enjoying a gourmet feast. There wasn't a hint of disgust on their faces.

He suddenly felt a sense of realization: as expected, the strong never complain about their environment.

Though he said that, Uesugi Hara couldn't bring himself to accept it.

After eating, Uesugi Hara wandered aimlessly around the campus.

When he reached the commercial district, he was somewhat surprised.

The gym floor was polished to a shine, and the equipment inside was brand new. The coffee shop wafted a rich, fragrant aroma, and its decor was more refined than any chain brand he'd seen outside. There was even a game arcade that looked quite professional, with posters at the entrance flashing dazzling lights...

"Whoa, this school's facilities are no joke," he muttered to himself, rubbing his chin. "I thought the admissions brochure was just exaggerating."

Looking at the rows of dazzling storefronts, he couldn't help but grumble: with only a few hundred students in the entire school, was there really a need for such a grand setup?

But then he thought about it and felt happy—it wasn't his money being spent anyway, and the school deposited Points into his account every month, allowing him to spend freely at these shops.

Thinking of it that way, those "unnecessary" luxuries suddenly looked much more pleasing to the eye.

Uesugi Hara looked here and there throughout the commercial district, his eyes full of novelty.

There were too many things he hadn't had the chance to experience before; he felt like a country bumpkin entering the city for the first time, finding everything curious.

Just like now, he was sitting in an elegantly decorated cafe with a cup of black coffee in front of him.

In truth, he didn't want to waste his afternoon here, but it was his first time drinking coffee in his life, and the burnt, bitter taste hit his brain so hard he couldn't really handle it.

Looking around, everyone else was drinking their coffee slowly, sipping in small amounts with indifferent expressions, exuding an indescribable sense of leisure. Uesugi Hara pondered to himself: drinking this stuff too fast would make him look like he lacked "class."

So, when no one was looking, he secretly added several sugar cubes to his cup, stirring it again and again until the bitterness was masked by sweetness, only then taking small, slow sips.

Holding his Terminal, he scrolled through the class group chat logs half-heartedly, occasionally looking out the window to zone out, appearing somewhat idle.

By the time Uesugi Hara snapped back to reality, the sky outside had gradually darkened, and the time on his Terminal showed a few minutes past six. He stood up to pay the bill, and seeing the "1000 Points" on the receipt, he couldn't help but click his tongue.

A cup of coffee for an afternoon, and it cost 1000?

He walked out after paying, cursing under his breath: what a rip-off.

He would never touch this nonsense coffee again unless someone else was paying—Uesugi Hara muttered to himself as he walked, making up his mind.

After leaving the cafe, he found a decent-looking restaurant and ordered a simple meal.

The taste wasn't exactly stunning, but compared to the school's free meal, it was like heaven and earth—at least it tasted like real food, and he didn't have to pinch his nose to force it down. That alone was enough.

Returning to his dorm, Uesugi Hara sat in his chair and suddenly felt a bit lost.

In the empty room, only the sound of his own breathing remained, and he didn't know what he should do.

During his days in the White Room, his days were packed with various training sessions, his nerves always pulled taut. After leaving, he had to hustle for a living, either working part-time or figuring out how to "scrounge" for resources; he had never had a moment of leisure.

Now, suddenly thrown into a place like this, without having to worry about money all day and with living expenses deposited monthly, Uesugi Hara felt somewhat at a loss.

Feeling truly bored, he suddenly remembered a piece of software a friend had mentioned before—a Blog. It was said to be an app for scrolling through videos, perfect for killing time.

Uesugi Hara picked up his Terminal, swiped his fingers across the screen to find the download link, slowly installed the software, and registered an account according to the prompts.

Looking at the "Registration Successful" notification popping up on the screen, he raised an eyebrow—he wanted to see what kind of magic this thing had that could make people spend half the day staring at a screen.

Uesugi Hara swiped through the videos on his Terminal screen and suddenly frowned.

He remembered occasionally catching glimpses of content on other people's phones; it was either sparks flying in a bladesmithing competition or someone starting a fire with sticks in a wilderness survival show—all of them exuding a hardcore vibe.

But his newly registered account was flooded with nothing but beautiful women in various short skirts and stockings, shaking in front of the camera with deliberate, provocative movements.

His finger paused on the screen, his face full of confusion: "Does this software judge people by their appearance?"

How could the recommended content be so drastically different on the same platform?

He clicked his tongue, but his finger, which had been swiping the screen, slowed down a bit.

The girl in the video was wearing a denim miniskirt that sat just right, swaying her waist to the beat of the music, her fair neck exposed as she tossed her long hair. Uesugi Hara's gaze seemed to be glued to the screen, involuntarily following the movements in the video.

He leaned back in his chair, shifted into a more comfortable position, and simply propped the Terminal on his knees. The confusion in his eyes had long since vanished, replaced by a bit of interest in watching the beauty.

He had thought this kind of recommendation was boring before, but now he felt—it didn't seem so hard to accept after all.

"Tsk, this software... doesn't seem to understand me that well after all." Despite his grumbling, Uesugi Hara's fingers honestly kept swiping on the screen, with no intention of stopping.

As he scrolled, a particular image suddenly made his breath hitch—in the video, a red-haired girl lay on pale pink sheets, her fluffy skirt hem half-covering her long legs, the pleated fabric across her chest stretched taut, her hair scattered carelessly against the pillow, and that gaze, at once coy and inviting, made it impossible to look away.

"Huh, this one's pretty good." He raised an eyebrow, his finger freezing in place.

Immediately after, another notification popped up; in the frame, a pink-haired girl in an off-the-shoulder dress tugged lightly at her neckline with one hand, tilting her head back slightly by the bedside, the corners of her eyes flushed with a seductive hue, set against a warm-lit room where even the arc of her falling hair seemed meticulously designed. In the corner of the video, the creator's name, "Shizuku-chan," stood out prominently, with a bio that read, "Dedicated to gravure and life vlogs."

"Shizuku-chan? A professional gravure model?" He murmured the name and clicked into her profile.

As he scrolled, he saw her on a sun-drenched windowsill with her skirt hem lifted by a light breeze, or clutching a pillow with her hair cascading over her chest; every image was filled with a delicate, atmospheric charm.

"Heh, finally something worth watching." He curled his lip and silently clicked follow.

Switching to the comment section, the screen was flooded with the wailing of horny old men, and Uesugi Hara scoffed, "Is that all?"

He then tapped out a comment under the latest photo: "Looks good, love it, post more."

Feeling that wasn't enough, he added, "No other hobbies, I just love looking at legs."