Dining and Chatting / Chapter 11: The First Step-Clubs

First floor: set meals

Second floor: local specialties and snacks

Third floor: fine dining, with private rooms.

During the school term, the cafeteria was open during regular meal times.

During holidays, it was open from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m.

Since he had arrived early, there weren't many people in line.

He joined a random queue. Tanaka Yukishin looked at the electronic display in front of him, where pictures of the food kept changing. It showed what was currently available and how much it cost.

The standard mass-produced meals, like pork and potato stew, curry rice, miso udon, and fried chicken... all cost 500 points.

After waiting for a while, it was finally his turn.

Once he'd placed his order, Tanaka Yukishin scanned his student ID terminal over the machine, and a staff member handed him a 1,600-point set meal.

The 1,600-point meal included a large serving of eel rice, miso soup, and a plate of freshly fried tempura.

Chapter 10: Dining and Chatting

He took the tray. It was certainly heavy; he just wasn't sure how it would taste.

At 1,600 points for one meal, two meals would cost 3,200. Add a 300-point breakfast, and he'd be spending 3,500 points a day just on food. Thirty days a month, 3,500 multiplied by 30 came to 105,000. One hundred thousand points a month wasn't nearly enough; he'd be five thousand short.

Those students had celebrated too soon.

The promise made before enrollment—that food and lodging were covered—was true.

The dorms were standard single rooms, with no distinction between better and worse. But if you wanted to eat well instead of sticking to the free meals, you couldn't make it through the month.

Spending money on nice clothes, bags, and electronic devices... those luxuries were less worthwhile than spending it on food.

That was because the food itself was already subsidized, making it anywhere from a third to two-thirds cheaper than eating at a normal restaurant.

The students were making money off the school.

Luxury goods, on the other hand, were how businesses made money off the students.

The difference between the two was like night and day.

After his scathing assessment of his classmates, Tanaka Yukishin finally reached a table.

With a crisp clink of the aluminum tray against his wooden chopsticks, he lifted the lid from the eel rice. White steam carried a sweet, caramelized aroma straight to his nose. Even the bespectacled boy at the next table, who was chewing on a rice ball, couldn't help glancing over.

"You're a new student, right? Eating pretty well... Though spending money on food is worth it."

The bespectacled senior, who seemed a little too familiar, looked like he was about to say something, but for some reason, he stopped himself.

He managed a greeting, then awkwardly turned away.

Tanaka Yukishin didn't mind.

The guy had probably meant to warn him about his spending, but was afraid the school might find out and punish him.

The first month after enrollment was a Secret Exam with information hidden in plain sight.

The school was happy to see students find information and figure out the answers on their own.

But if there was any funny business—if an upperclassman, staff member, or anyone else with prior knowledge spilled the secret—the leaker would be hit with the full force of the school's rules.

Judging by that, he was a normal person with a kind heart, but limited courage.

Still, he'd ended up eating rice balls. That only put him a little above the students who ate the free meals.

After all, this stuff was purely "practical food." It met the basic requirements for survival, but represented a low quality of life.

Back in middle school, when some idiot underling ran short on money near the end of the month and was too embarrassed to ask for a loan, he'd turn to those hundred-yen rice balls as a last resort. Tanaka Yukishin would often tease him for "eating rocks."

Maybe, once his plan was complete, he could run into the guy again and take him on as a henchman. That'd be his good fortune, too.

As the tip of his chopsticks pierced the lightly seared fish skin, amber sauce seeped through the grooves of the flesh, like lava slowly consuming a snow-capped mountain. The moment it entered his mouth, the layer of fat melted into a buttery texture, while the heat of the sansho pepper burst across the back of his tongue.

The shrimp tempura, fresh from the fryer, made a faint crackling sound on the porcelain plate. Crumbs of batter fluttered down like golden snowflakes.

The boy picked it up with his fingers. Crunch!

The shrimp's curled back split open, and scalding juices splashed onto his chin. He bit into eggplant wrapped in a shiso leaf, and plant juices mingled with the savory oil as his teeth broke through.

As the rich sauce and fried food tightened around his throat, tofu bobbed up and down in the wooden bowl.

His hands and mouth moved without pause. He scraped the last bits of eel and sauce into his rice, his chopsticks blurring. A few sesame seeds at the bottom of the miso soup bowl still gave off wisps of steam, while the tempura crumbs formed a starry sky across his plate.

He was done eating. His verdict: not bad.

After all, most of the students at this fully enclosed school came from different parts of the country.

You could say they came from every corner of the land.

There were also international students from other countries.

Because of their different geographical locations, historical cultures... and other influences, they all had their own food preferences, habits, and needs.

To solve the problem of catering to everyone's tastes, the school had to provide a wide range of foods in different styles while maintaining a certain standard of flavor.

That was only natural.

On the way to the club building, Cheat Customer Service and Tanaka Yukishin started chatting.

"Say, if you took an ordinary Chinese high school student and sent him to this school without telling him what was really going on, how do you think he'd react to the Secret Exam in the first month?"

"Ordinary, and unaware of what's going on. Given those two conditions, almost anything could happen except no reaction at all or breezing through it."

"Oh, tell me more."

The customer service agent sounded a little intrigued and pressed him to continue.

Tanaka Yukishin thought it over, then answered.

"First of all, China is a communist country, while Japan is capitalist. Students in the two countries grow up in different social environments and receive different educations. They'd perceive and judge the same events differently."

"An ordinary Chinese high school student would realize something was off when he learned that a Japanese school not only covered tuition and fees, food, and lodging, but also guaranteed that he'd get into his dream school or land his dream job after graduation."

"But as Chinese nationals, they wouldn't be able to investigate the school and its various aspects directly. They'd have no choice but to enroll with their doubts unresolved."

"On the day they enrolled, when they learned they'd received 100,000 yen, with more to come every month, their doubts would become intense enough to make them feel deeply uneasy and alarmed. They'd know there was no such thing as a free lunch. One hundred thousand yen was about 5,000 yuan, and combined with the generous benefits promised earlier, the offer would seem too good to be true. How was that any different from a scam in northern Myanmar?"

"After realizing something was off, they'd think about it, reach a conclusion—that something was wrong—then go looking for information. After that, they'd use what they found to think things over again and reach another conclusion."

"Given the circumstances, the only impossible outcomes would be doing nothing from the start or completing the process quickly and getting the answer. They could get stuck at any other point along the way."

"After all, they'd be ordinary high school students. Once they realized something was off, they might deceive themselves and decide it wasn't worth thinking about any further. They might ask a teacher, get nowhere, and give up.

"Or they might get sidetracked by other students inviting them to have fun while searching for information.

"They might also lack the ability to search thoroughly. They could fail to finish before the deadline, or find some information but not all of it.

"Or..."

"In short, that's about how an ordinary high school student would handle it."

Tanaka Yukishin went over the possibilities again and again, only finishing once he was sure he'd covered them all.

The customer service agent chuckled and asked a somewhat sensitive question.

"Is the model for this ordinary high school student you, back when you were in high school before you transmigrated?"

"You can put it that way if you want. I don't mind. I have a clear understanding of myself, anyway. I'm just an ordinary person. I can't compare to geniuses. But there's one thing I can brag about: I get things done, and I take my work seriously."

Tanaka Yukishin didn't dodge the question. He answered it frankly.

People weren't perfect. You could feel reluctant to accept your limits, but you had to acknowledge them and keep growing toward what you wanted.

Knowing others was wisdom; knowing yourself was true insight.

Having a clear understanding of yourself was pretty good, too.

Chapter 11: The First Step—Clubs

Food, clothing, housing, and transportation—all it took was eating a little better to spend 105,000 personal points a month.

And Tanaka Yukishin still had to buy nice clothes, move into a bigger and better place, and spend money on entertainment.

Making money was a must.

Once he had information, the next step was to turn it into cash.

Taking money from the school wasn't wise.

It was possible, of course, but a small amount wasn't worth the effort, and a large amount wasn't worth the risk.

It was safer and easier to collect protection money from other people.

The first step in making money: clubs.

At Japanese schools, clubs were groups that students were bound to encounter.

And at Advanced Nurturing High School, a fully enclosed school, clubs were even more important than they were elsewhere.

First, the school periodically allocated funds according to a club's category, number of members, past honors, current strength, and other factors.

Second, the fully enclosed campus couldn't stop clubs from taking part in competitions. After all, that was what students most wanted when they joined a club and became part of it.

They had to rely on that path to advance. Not everyone could study hard enough to get into the University of Tokyo, and not everyone came from a family with a top-tier immortal legacy.

The first step in Tanaka Yukishin's money-making plan was to challenge all the sports clubs—martial arts, boxing, track and field, archery... and the rest.

He'd collect a coaching fee once, then have them pay him half their club budgets every month.

Perfectly sustainable.

When they reached the club building, Tanaka Yukishin stopped a white-haired girl who was coming out.

"Hello. I wanted to ask which of the sports clubs are the strongest right now, and how many sports clubs there are in total."

"Don't block my way."

The girl he'd stopped was clearly in a hurry. She shot him an annoyed look and was about to leave.

But he grabbed her hand, and even after putting all her strength into it, she couldn't break free.

Only then did she calm down and take a closer look at the person stopping her.

First, he was handsome. Then, he didn't look like he'd done much training.

Was he a natural-born powerhouse?

"I don't think I've seen you before. Are you a first-year?"

The beautiful girl with white hair and violet eyes looked at him with a bright smile, curiosity filling her eyes.

"Yes, senpai. Tell me which clubs are the strongest."

"What are you planning to do?"

"Challenge them, collect a coaching fee, then make them pay half their club funds every month as a friendship fee."

Kiryuin Fuuka was startled.

One person against all of them.

Was he fearless because he was ignorant, or did he have the confidence of a strong person?

"Very clever, and very bold. But it's not enough. Even if you're strong enough to beat every club, you don't have enough time."

"I know. But the educational philosophy Advanced Nurturing High School stands by, along with the benefits clubs receive, will force them to make a choice."

How impressive, this first-year.

He'd already figured out that this school followed the principle of strength above all else.

By openly challenging them, he left them nowhere to run.

He wasn't afraid even if they warned him that their competition schedules overlapped, or threatened to have most of the clubs gang up on him.

After all, with a first-year who'd already shown enough strength, they couldn't risk the school allowing him to monopolize the competitions for certain clubs afterward.

That would mean monopolizing both their right to leave the school and their paths to advancement.

Once they thought it through, all they could do was pay him protection money every month.

Still, the first-year probably wouldn't have enough stamina.