A Public Social Suicide

Watching Lin Mu turn around and actually start to leave, carrying those large bags, Kamuro Masumi bit her lower lip. A surge of intense frustration and an inexplicable emotion welled up inside her.

She called out to stop him, her tone carrying a hint of awkwardness and stubbornness, while subconsciously finding a lame excuse for herself:

"Hey! You... what's your name? Which class are you in? I, I'll have a chance to... repay you later!"

That word "revenge" had almost slipped out, but at the last moment, she forced it into "repay." Yet, the tsundere, unconvinced vibe was practically overflowing.

Lin Mu had never intended to get too involved with this girl, who looked like she would be quite a handful.

He didn't dislike her, but... in short, he wanted to avoid the "you helped me/reminded me, so I owe you a favor" kind of development.

Hearing this, he just waved his hand casually without looking back, replying perfunctorily:

"I already said I'm just a kind passerby. Forget about the name. See ya."

Having said that, he didn't even pause his pace, heading straight toward the other side of the checkout counter; he still had to pick up the custom-made banner.

Watching his back as he left without a shred of attachment—almost as if he couldn't wait to get away—Kamuro Masumi stomped her foot in anger, the fire in her heart flaring up again.

She had (barely) taken the initiative to ask for his name, and this guy was being so dismissive!

He didn't even look back! She raised her voice at his retreating figure, her tone filled with stubbornness, which was also a roundabout way of announcing her own identity, as if that could help her regain some face:

"My name is Kamuro Masumi! Class 1-A! Today... today I owe you one!

If you need help in the future, just come find me! Even if it's... even if it's just to repay you for your meddling today!"

She said the last few words through gritted teeth.

Lin Mu heard her, and his footsteps faltered almost imperceptibly, but he still didn't turn back. He simply raised his free hand to shoulder height and waved it casually, acknowledging that he had heard.

His heart remained calm, and he even felt like laughing. Class 1-A, huh... as expected, "elites" also have all sorts of strange troubles and rebellious phases.

However, none of that had anything to do with him. His mind was currently filled with getting the banner and then grabbing a good spot at the club recruitment area.

He picked up the finished banner at the terminal next to the checkout, confirmed all his items, and only then, carrying, hugging, and wearing the various large and small bags and packages, did he truly set off on the road to the club recruitment area.

(I'm fully armed here. Actually, my superpower could create things out of thin air, but if I did that... it would be meaningless, and you can't explain the aftermath of creating things out of thin air...)

He looked down at the folding table he was hugging, then at the bag in his hand containing the small stools, crystal ball, and tarot cards, and the tent bag on his back.

Along with the banner scroll tucked under his arm, he felt that his current appearance must be very... bizarre and pathetic.

There was no "future master psychic" aura here; he looked more like someone moving house or fleeing a disaster.

"Tsk, carrying so much stuff on the road, what a miscalculation."

He muttered to himself, trying to adjust his posture to hold everything more steadily.

Fortunately, most of them were foldable models, and the volume was well-controlled. If he had to carry them all unfolded, the sight would be too beautiful to imagine.

At the very least, he was a top-tier looker (in his own opinion), so he had to pay attention to his image; he couldn't let it fall apart.

However, the thought that he would soon be able to set up that little fortune-telling stall and start his wonderful life of "earning points while lying down" made the slight gloom he felt from spending a huge amount of points and being interrupted by Kamuro Masumi vanish instantly, and his footsteps became lighter unconsciously.

The sun was still bright, and there were more and more students on the tree-lined path, most of them gathering toward the club recruitment area, their faces filled with longing and curiosity for their new lives.

Just like that, Lin Mu carried a pile of "entrepreneurial tools" including a folding tent, table, and small stools, with a newly unwrapped grape-flavored lollipop in his mouth.

He walked with a pace that was out of sync with the freshmen who were excitedly running or laughing in groups, slowly wandering toward the club recruitment area.

With his stamina and endurance, which had been subtly enhanced by his superpowers, this weight was nothing at all; his breathing hadn't even quickened.

But he couldn't help the fact that his peculiar "moving house alone" appearance was truly eye-catching, and coupled with that overly outstanding face, he attracted many curious or kind gazes along the way.

(If one person is social suicide, what is a group?)

He hadn't gone far, and just as he was thinking about where to set up his stall—somewhere not too conspicuous, yet avoiding being driven away by the student council or the like.

(Oh, the campus police, since I don't know if one can set up a stall on campus at will.)

And somewhere that could attract potential customers, those confused and wealthy classmates, a gentle and sweet female voice, as if carrying the warmth of the sun, sounded beside him:

"Hello, classmate!"

Lin Mu lazily turned his head and glanced over. The person who had come was a girl with shoulder-length, gradient-gold hair, the ends slightly curled inward.

Her face was exquisite and beautiful, and a pair of pale purple eyes were curved into lovely crescent shapes, filled with genuine kindness.

She walked quickly to Lin Mu's side, her gaze falling on the pile of clearly overloaded items in his arms and hands, her tone sincere and enthusiastic, with a hint of concern:

"Classmate, you're carrying so much stuff, where are you going? Would you like me to give you a hand? You look like you're having a hard time."

Lin Mu didn't even lift his head, refusing directly: "No, thanks. I can do it myself."

He really didn't want to have too much involvement with strangers, especially this type who looked "warm-hearted," as it easily led to future favors and trouble.

However, this female student clearly belonged to the type with a gentle and exceptionally enthusiastic personality.

She seemed to take Lin Mu's refusal as the politeness of someone who didn't want to trouble others. Not only did she not walk away, but she also smiled and stepped closer.

Her attitude remained earnest, and the warm, sincere feeling in her tone that made it hard to harden one's heart to refuse became even stronger:

"It's okay, classmate! You don't have to be polite with me. Looking at the direction you're walking, you must be going to the club recruitment area, right? Me too! We're just going the same way, let's walk together."

She pointed to the area ahead where the noise could be faintly heard, and then her gaze fell back to the heavy objects in Lin Mu's hands, her eyes full of the certainty that "you really need help," "You're carrying so much by yourself, it must be very tiring."

"Let me carry some for you, it's really no trouble! Many hands make light work, after all!"

Lin Mu: "..."

He looked into those clear, bottomless eyes filled with pure goodwill, then considered what might happen if he continued to bluntly refuse. (Eyes as clear as a college student's)

It might just invite more persistent "persuasion" or draw strange looks from the people around them—that would be even more troublesome. Forget it, let her carry it; they were almost there anyway.

Helpless, Lin Mu could only sigh in his heart, though his face remained expressionless.

He simply loosened his grip on the bag he was holding, letting her take it, while mumbling, "...Thanks, then."

"You're welcome~" The girl took the bag and naturally moved to a position slightly behind and to the side of Lin Mu, maintaining a friendly distance that allowed them to walk together without feeling overly intimate or oppressive.

She curiously glanced at the corner of the crystal ball peeking out from the bag, but politely refrained from asking any questions.

The two walked side by side down the bustling tree-lined path.

The boy was tall and upright, with white hair and a cold face, his temperament lazy and aloof; the girl was gentle and sweet, with dazzling blonde hair and a healing smile.