The Chosen Seat and the Left and Right Protectors

Manabu Horikita's voice continued, steady and possessing a certain persuasive power: "These achievements were not obtained out of thin air."

"They are the glory and capital accumulated bit by bit by our school's successive graduates, as well as all current students, through their own unremitting efforts, strength, and sweat. They are also the foundation upon which our school stands."

"I hope that every freshman present can understand the weight of this glory and have the sufficient awareness and ability to pass it on, and even carry it forward."

He paused again, the gaze behind his lenses seeming to grow sharper, as he slowly uttered the words that had long been engraved on the cornerstone of the school's philosophy:

"Because, what this school upholds is, precisely, absolute—"

"Meritocracy."

This sentence was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirring up a slight, ambiguous commotion among the freshmen.

Some were lost in thought, some looked excited, and others appeared slightly bewildered.

Lin Mu, however, merely raised an eyebrow slightly. Meritocracy? It sounded like a very strict and cruel logic of competition.

However, regardless of whether this "merit" referred to academics, physical fitness, social skills, or anything else, it did not seem to pose a real challenge to him.

After all, the dimension of his "strength" was simply not on the same level as that of ordinary people.

Thinking of this, he felt even more relaxed, and even began to use the tip of his tongue to push his lollipop to his left cheek, bulging it into a small bump, out of sheer boredom.

(I really like doing this when eating lollipops, and I also have to chew on the stick.)

What followed were the speeches from several school leaders, the content of which was nothing more than school rules, well wishes, and future prospects—long-winded and dull.

Lin Mu's eyelids grew heavy as he listened, and he had to force himself to stay awake to avoid actually falling asleep.

Kikyo Kushida, sitting beside him, was listening very attentively. At some point, she had even taken out a palm-sized, cute notebook, occasionally lowering her head to record key points, her profile looking focused and well-behaved.

The state of the other students in Class D was more realistic—the frequency of yawns increased significantly, their standing postures became more relaxed, and the sound of whispering grew slightly louder.

In contrast, in the areas for Class A, Class B, and Class C, although it was inevitable that a few individuals would lose focus, they generally maintained relatively proper posture and attention. By comparison, the "characteristics" of Class D seemed even more distinct.

After finally enduring until all the leaders finished their speeches and the host announced the official conclusion of the opening ceremony, the freshmen from each class left in order to head to their respective classrooms.

The crowd surged like a floodgate being opened.

Kikyo Kushida immediately put away her notebook, a bright smile reappearing on her face. Her eyes scanned the surroundings nimbly, and she quickly locked onto several girls nearby who also appeared to be in Class D.

She walked over quickly, naturally inserting herself into the conversation they had just started, and introduced herself with a sweet smile: "Hi everyone! I'm Kikyo Kushida, also in Class D. I was standing right behind you just now! Please take care of me!"

Relying on her outstanding approachability and just the right amount of enthusiasm, it wasn't long before she was chatting heatedly with those girls.

Laughter erupted, and they successfully exchanged contact information, completely losing the appearance of someone who had been staying by Lin Mu's side as if relying on him to lead the way.

Lin Mu felt nothing about this, and even felt a sense of relief.

He wished that Kikyo's social energy could be spread to more people so that he could better remain invisible and slack off.

For him, no matter which class he was in, whether he could graduate smoothly, or whether he could obtain the so-called "school points," he could live very well by relying on his superpowers; there was no need to rely on the halo or resources of this school.

He chose this place, aside from that modified admission notice, simply because it was a closed-management facility with a good reputation, looking like a place where he could safely "stay at home" without being overly disturbed.

Making friends? Maintaining interpersonal relationships? There was even less need—his experience in the orphanage had long since allowed him to see through that, with his mind-reading ability.

It was easy to cater to others and quickly establish superficial friendships, but the easier a relationship was to obtain, the more fragile and superficial it often was.

What's more, if one could "hear" the true evaluations of others (whether good or bad) at every moment, then the social game of wearing a mask would seem even more ridiculous and exhausting.

Rather than that, it was better to keep a distance from the beginning and minimize social consumption.

Being alone and at peace was the true essence of a slacker's life.

As he followed the crowd slowly toward the Class 1-D classroom, Lin Mu deliberately slowed his pace, falling behind to avoid the crowded and noisy groups.

By the time he arrived at the Class D classroom on the second floor, about two-thirds of the people were already seated, and the sound of conversation was buzzing.

The classroom was spacious and bright, and the desks and chairs were brand new, light wood-colored.

Lin Mu's gaze swept across the room calmly, and he headed straight for the back row.

He chose an empty seat in the back of the middle row that was neither by the window (to avoid direct sunlight and interference from the view outside) nor by the door (to avoid frequent traffic and hallway noise), pulled out the chair, and sat down.

(Truly a god-tier spot; being by the door is noisy and easy to be spotted by the teacher, and if you're by the window and the sun is bright, you might as well be cosplaying Ultraman Tiga.)

This position could be called a "golden slacker spot"—quiet, with a good view to observe the whole class, and not easy to become the focus of attention.

As soon as he sat down and stuffed his schoolbag into the desk, he keenly sensed gazes of different natures from his left and right sides.

He first turned to the right.

His neighbor was a girl with soft pink hair, the ends slightly curled inward.

Her skin was so fair it was almost transparent, and her features were delicate and small, like a doll.

At this moment, she was looking down slightly, her hands placed uneasily on her folded knees.

Noticing Lin Mu turning his head to look at her, she shuddered violently like a startled little animal, her fair cheeks flushing a visible red, with even her earlobes and neck stained pink.

She looked away in a panic, her fingers twisting together unconsciously, and her whole person exuded an extremely strong aura of shyness, as if she wanted to shrink into a crack in the ground.

She had a very shy, introverted, and timid personality.

Lin Mu could almost imagine the barrage of thoughts frantically scrolling through her mind at this moment, things like "What do I do, he's looking over," "So awkward," and "Don't look at me, don't look at me."

(Quick Q&A: Are they talking about you?)

Lin Mu's face remained expressionless, though he found the situation somewhat interesting.

Such a shy girl would likely have a difficult time in an environment that emphasized competition so heavily.

Next, he turned to his left.

The girl on the left had neat, shoulder-length black hair that was perfectly straight.

She sat with impeccable posture, her back straight, her brows and eyes cold, and her lips slightly pursed. An aura of aloofness that warned others to keep their distance surrounded her, as if she carried her own cooling effect.

Noticing Lin Mu's gaze, she immediately looked over.

In stark contrast to the shy, evasive nature of the girl on the right, her eyes were sharp and carried a clear sense of scrutiny, lingering on Lin Mu's face for more than a second.

Her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly before she coldly shifted her gaze away. Her eyes clearly spelled out "rude," "frivolous," and "don't bother me," as if Lin Mu taking an extra look at her was some sort of offense.

(She is like a powerhouse who breathes out frost, similar to Liumu Shimeng; the author hasn't played the game, just saw it in a video.)

Lin Mu: "..."

He more or less understood.

His face, combined with the act of actively looking at her (even if it was just out of a polite observation of his surroundings), had likely led this cold-tempered girl to mistake him for a lecher trying to pick her up or harboring ulterior motives.

After all, given his appearance, he had encountered similar misunderstandings since he was a child—there were always people who assumed that a handsome boy looking at a girl twice must have some hidden agenda.

If it were anyone else, they might be eager to explain or feel embarrassed.

But Lin Mu just raised an eyebrow indifferently, even finding it a bit amusing.

Explaining was too much trouble, and it was debatable whether she would even believe him; he might just make things worse by trying to clarify.

Why bother sticking his hot face against a cold butt and wasting his breath and energy?

One of his principles of slacking off: do not actively seek out trouble, but if trouble comes due to a misunderstanding, as long as it doesn't substantively affect him, he couldn't be bothered to waste energy clarifying it.

He shrugged, withdrew his gaze with extreme naturalness, leaned back against his chair, and used his tongue to push the milk-flavored lollipop, now half its original size, to the other side of his mouth.

His cheek bulged slightly as a result.

Then, he closed his eyes with a clear conscience and began to rest.

Anyway, as long as he wasn't embarrassed, the one who was embarrassed would be someone else.

Staying quiet and waiting for the yet-to-appear homeroom teacher to arrange things was the only thing he should be doing right now.

As for the shy pink-haired girl on the right and the cold black-haired girl on the left, they were just classmates for the next three years.

Keeping his distance and minding his own business was his ideal mode of interaction.

The noise in the classroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the lingering sweetness in his mouth and a deliberately maintained, personal sense of quiet laziness.