Classroom of the Elite, Keima Katsuragi's Love Brain Battle

"Buy... buy another one?"

"That's right. After all, if I only have one, the clearing efficiency is still too low."

These words left Airi Sakura even more confused. She even subconsciously turned her head to look at Keima Katsuragi, but the moment she saw his profile, she hurriedly turned back, her breathing seemingly becoming a bit disordered.

Volume One: Chapter Eighteen: Shall We Go Together? Sakura-san

Airi Sakura pursed her lips, her heartbeat seemingly accelerating.

If I go with Katsuragi-kun...

Airi cautiously observed the boy beside her out of the corner of her eye.

He remained focused on his handheld console, the cold light reflecting off his face.

Airi Sakura felt that talking to him didn't carry as much pressure as it did with others.

Perhaps... it's precisely because his attention isn't on me?

But regardless, if someone were to accompany her, perhaps she would have the courage to go buy a camera.

"Mm..."

The sound was as light as a feather hitting the ground, dissipating into the air the moment it left her lips.

She panicked instantly, afraid he hadn't heard her, afraid this hard-won courage would go to waste, so she hurriedly added a slightly larger nod.

But to an outsider, it was nothing more than her chin moving down two centimeters, her slender pink hair swaying gently along with it.

Upon receiving Airi Sakura's response, Keima Katsuragi nodded imperceptibly, his attention seemingly about to return to his game.

After all, he had promised Elsie yesterday, and he had made some moves today.

Although, theoretically, there was still plenty of time, he did need to push the progress of the 'main quest' a little.

Otherwise, Elsie might come up with some other nonsense.

As it stands, Airi Sakura is likely the easiest character to conquer right now.

Unlike the aloofness of Suzune Horikita or the facade of Kikyo Kushida, Airi Sakura is simply afraid of social interaction.

To bridge the distance, one only needs to reduce the 'sense of alienation' she feels toward him.

As long as the frequency of contact is high enough, that barrier can be broken.

As for the other targets—

His peripheral vision precisely captured a gaze from the other side—that look had been locked onto his face like a searchlight for several minutes now.

Suzune Horikita.

She was sitting straighter than before today, her textbook spread out on the desk, a fountain pen in her hand; at a glance, she looked exactly like a model student focused on previewing her lessons.

However, her gaze would occasionally drift over the edge of her textbook toward Keima Katsuragi.

Ever since the test results were announced yesterday, Suzune Horikita had developed a certain indescribable concern regarding this eccentric seatmate.

She had originally thought Keima Katsuragi was just a good-for-nothing otaku obsessed with games whose grades would be a complete mess, but reality had slapped her hard in the face.

What exactly is the deal with this guy?

This question had circled in her mind all night; she had even suffered a rare bout of insomnia, tossing and turning in bed while replaying the scenes from the day.

The image of Keima Katsuragi casually reciting the content of Chabashira-sensei's lecture while playing a game in the cafeteria; the matter-of-fact expression he wore when he handed in his test early; and that infuriating look on his face when he said the word "tsundere"...

Especially the way Elsie looked at her afterward!

How could such a strange term have anything to do with her?

Just then, Keima Katsuragi turned his head without warning.

Their gazes collided in mid-air.

Suzune Horikita froze for a moment, the fingers holding her fountain pen tightening slightly.

She hadn't expected him to look over suddenly, and even less did she expect that she had actually been staring at him for so long—this was completely out of character for her.

"You..."

"You've been staring at me for a while now."

Keima Katsuragi pushed up his glasses, the look behind the lenses devoid of fluctuation.

"If you want to play, go buy a console yourself. But a friendly tip: for beginners, I suggest starting with Tokimeki Memorial. The system is user-friendly, and the difficulty is moderate."

"I have no interest in playing such boring things!"

The corners of Suzune Horikita's mouth twitched uncontrollably.

She grabbed her textbook and flipped to the next page with a loud rustle.

She forced herself to focus her gaze on the dense text in the book...

Don't get involved with a guy like this!

She repeated it to herself three times.

But the more she thought that, the less she was able to concentrate.

The corner of her eye seemed to have a will of its own, drifting repeatedly toward her side.

Then, she witnessed an even stranger scene—

Keima Katsuragi had actually put down his handheld console.

That gaming device, which had seemed glued to his hands since the first day of school, was now resting gently on the corner of the desk.

In its place was his student terminal, held in both hands, his fingers dancing across the virtual keyboard at a dazzling speed.

She could see long blocks of text scrolling across the screen, occasionally interspersed with structures resembling flowcharts.

This guy was actually not playing games?

Suzune Horikita felt a sense of absurd curiosity.

Could it be that he had started studying seriously?

No, that wasn't it.

She immediately extinguished the thought.

Whatever he does has nothing to do with me.

Preview.

Focus on the preview.

But the sound of Keima tapping on the screen seemed to possess a magical quality, drilling straight into her ears.

Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, the rhythm was steady and dense, like raindrops hitting a windowpane; the sound wasn't loud, but to Suzune Horikita, it felt exceptionally intrusive.

One minute. Two minutes.

Suzune Horikita realized she hadn't taken in a single word.

"You, what exactly are you doing?"

When the words slipped out, even she was taken aback.

But she quickly found a justification for herself: this guy's behavior was already affecting her studies, yes, that was it!

So she reached out, grabbed Keima Katsuragi's arm, and gave it a light twist—

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!"

Keima Katsuragi's body instantly arched like a boiled shrimp, his entire face scrunching up.

Yet his other hand was still clutching the terminal for dear life, as if it were his lifeline.

Suzune Horikita was startled; she really hadn't used much strength, just applied a little pressure to make him stop and explain.

This guy's physical fitness... was it really that poor?

When she grabbed him, he felt soft, as if he had no muscle at all.

Does this guy never exercise?

A trace of almost negligible guilt flashed through her heart, but she immediately suppressed it.

She let go, turned her face to the other side, stared out the window for two seconds, and then turned back, her expression returning to its usual coldness:

"That question should be mine to ask. What are you busy with so early in the morning? It's rare to see you actually put down your handheld."

As she spoke, Suzune Horikita leaned slightly, her gaze passing over Keima Katsuragi's shoulder to look at the terminal screen.

Then, she froze.

On the screen was not the study notes she had expected, nor any complex formulas or charts, but—

<Goodbye Youth Love Story: Full Walkthrough and All Endings>

Below the title was a line of small text:

Author: God

Further down were dense branching diagrams: conditions for triggering affection, the impact of key choices, methods to unlock hidden events... Every detail was meticulously annotated, even including analytical suggestions tailored to the personalities of different characters.

Suzune Horikita suspected she was hallucinating.

Volume 1: Chapter 19: Don't Forget, I Am God

"This is a walkthrough I'm serializing on the school forum."

Keima Katsuragi's voice rang out calmly, as if he were introducing an academic paper.

"Huh?"

"A walkthrough. Do you not know what a walkthrough means? It refers to..."

"I know, I know. I just can't understand why you are writing something like this?"

Suzune Horikita looked at Keima Katsuragi with a face full of astonishment.

"You should know, right? Our school has a dedicated forum website."

As he spoke, he swiped the screen, displaying the forum interface.

"But it's strange, there isn't even a gaming section on it."

"Having talent is weird, isn't it!"

Keima Katsuragi completely ignored her retort, pushed up his glasses, and continued in that tone of stating a fact:

"It was precisely because I discovered the missing gaming section that I posted the walkthroughs for the games I had already cleared. I even received a tip yesterday."

"A tip?"

"Although it wasn't much, only 1,000 points, it proves a few things."

Keima Katsuragi tapped his fingertip on the screen, pulling up a transaction record interface.

"For instance, points can be freely traded between different people. The forum has a built-in point transfer function, which is quite interesting—the school clearly tacitly approves of, or even encourages, this kind of resource flow between individuals."

Suzune Horikita's brow furrowed.

She had indeed not carefully studied all the functions of the student terminal, and she had only glanced over the forum in a hurry.

But if what Keima Katsuragi said was true...

"However, the number of people on the internal school forum is limited, and those who play games are even fewer."

Keima Katsuragi continued, his fingers quickly operating the device a few more times to switch to an external website interface.

"So I also posted the walkthroughs on social media. Look, this is the Summer Love Song walkthrough I posted yesterday; it already has over three hundred replies."

"Wait a minute."

Suzune Horikita's voice turned serious.

"You posted it on social media? You should be aware that there is a rule in this school against communicating with the outside world, right? The student handbook explicitly states: any form of contact with people outside the school is prohibited, including but not limited to communication, mailing items, and receiving external packages—"

"You actually didn't know?"

Keima Katsuragi interrupted her, a glint of near-pity flashing behind his lenses.

"The rule restricts 'communication,' which refers to a two-way exchange of information. I am merely sharing information unilaterally and have not replied to any comments, so this does not constitute 'communication'."

He paused, his finger tapping lightly on the power button on the side of the terminal: