I forgot my original intention. I just wanted to freeload.

Tsukishima stared at the "Western-Level Product System" written in his notebook, and his breathing suddenly slowed.

Why did I want to learn to draw manga?

To sell notebooks and earn points? To become another "Godly Artist"?

No.

That's not right.

His fingers tightened around the pen, knuckles turning white.

I remember... at the very beginning, I just wanted to freeload some skills.

Freeload.

Freeload what?

Tuition, educational resources, time.

Full tuition waiver—save several years' worth of tuition and living expenses, hold out until being expelled in second year, and that's one year earned.

Educational resources—an arena jointly run by the state and conglomerates, but the teaching staff is absurdly strong, and all the facilities are free to use, no cost.

Time—save the hassle of commuting to and from school, learn more skills, prepare in advance for entering society.

"Then what am I doing now?"

Tsukishima asked himself in his heart.

"Scheming about how to skirt the edges and make money? Pondering how to get around the School Rules?"

He suddenly let out a small laugh. "Only been here a few months, and I've already been assimilated by this damn place into this?"

He let out a long breath, crumpled up the "Business Empire Plan" from his notebook, and stuffed it into his pocket.

I still have to draw—first, to hone my art skills, second, to keep my hand in. As for the rest, let it take its course.

I need to scheme less too. I still have 750,000 points, enough for this school year. If I'm frugal, it'll last through next year too. No need to rack up more points.

"At least the direction isn't wrong," he said to himself in his heart. "I just strayed a little off course."

Sae Chabashira stepped onto the podium in her high heels, her long black hair swaying gently with each step.

She swept her gaze over the gods in the classroom, her eyes lingering on Tsukishima for half a second, then she began her lecture as usual.

After school, Tsukishima called Kushida out.

He chose a path behind the school building, a spot with few passersby at this hour.

"Your video—I deleted it."

Tsukishima got straight to the point. "You're welcome to come to my room whenever you want, but it's fine if you don't. I'm starting the next phase of my studies."

Kushida was stunned for a long moment, a flicker of stiffness in her smile.

"What do you mean?"

She glanced around, confirming no one else was nearby, then her tone turned cold:

"Are you, you pervert, planning to screw me over again? Not going to build your little notebook empire anymore? Or have you, you damn pervert, finally gotten yourself expelled?"

Tsukishima shook his head, the calculating expression gone from his face. "No, don't overthink it. I'll level with you. The goal I set for myself when I came to this school was to freeload..."

He explained his freeloading philosophy.

"Everything beyond that is unnecessary. I'll keep drawing notebooks, but whether I sell them or not, I'll let it be. Honing my art skills is important too."

"As for your matter... sorry. My thinking might have already gone wrong back then. Maybe I was already calculating your connections without even realizing it myself."

Kushida stared at him for a long time, then suddenly let out a small laugh, one with no warmth in it.

"Fine. It's not like I was really counting on a long-term partnership with you anyway."

"In any case, from now on, you're free."

"You too."

Kushida turned and walked away. The sound of her leather shoes on the path faded into the distance, and she never once looked back.

Tsukishima stood there until her figure disappeared around the corner.

He let out a long breath.

With the Kushida matter settled, next he needed to ask about other things.

Like—

Are the teachers at this school really just the classroom instructors?

Could he learn the skills of the school staff?

"Cafeteria auntie, librarian, janitor, network security officer, school system maintenance staff..."

Tsukishima silently recited these overlooked roles in his heart.

"If I can learn their skills too, then the room for maneuvering gets a lot bigger."

The setting sun stretched his shadow long, and the campus gradually grew quiet after school let out.

Tsukishima felt the crumpled plan in his pocket, the paper's creases pressing into his palm as he headed toward the dessert shop.

He'd grab something sweet first to shift his mood.

Then, he'd find a chance to sound out the Dessert Shop Owner...

Tsukishima paused: Why sound her out? Why not just ask outright?

He sighed: What a crappy habit—too many schemes and not enough height!

Humming a tuneless little melody, he walked toward the dessert shop.

Inside the dessert shop.

The owner cheerfully greeted customers as they came and went. Some male students' eyes kept getting drawn to the owner's generous bosom, only to earn sharp glares from the girls they'd come with.

The crowd gradually thinned.

Tsukishima ordered a Sicilian Cheese Roll and struck up a conversation: "Boss, your business is really good here, and you've got a lot of dessert varieties."

The owner chuckled: "It's alright. Everyone likes sweets—eating them can lift your mood."

Tsukishima nodded: "True. When I'm in a bad mood, I like eating sweets too. But there are so many desserts nowadays; this Sicilian Cheese Roll is my first time trying it—it's a little salty."

The owner nodded in agreement: "There really are a lot. Almost every year, tons of new products come out. Learning them all is pretty troublesome."

Tsukishima took a bite of the Sicilian Cheese Roll: "Boss, do you take on apprentices here?"

The owner was taken aback: "Apprentices? You want to learn how to make desserts?"

Tsukishima nodded: "Yeah. I like desserts anyway, and if I can't make it in the future, at least I'll have a skill so I won't starve."

The owner hesitated: "But this school..."

Tsukishima asked: "Does the school not allow it?"

The owner shook her head: "No, that's not it. The rules they gave us don't have a clause saying 'no taking apprentices.'"

Tsukishima nodded: "If the School Rules don't say it's not allowed, then it's probably fine. How about this, boss—I'll go ask the student council president later. I know him. If there's no problem, we'll talk then."

"I don't want money or points. Just let me eat desserts freely—that'll save me a dinner anyway."

"Don't worry, I'm just an ordinary student. No corporate spy here."

"Of course, if you're willing to teach, great. If not, pretend I never said anything."

The owner hesitated for a moment, then finally smiled and nodded: "Alright. If the school has no problem, then I don't either. But after school, I'll have to be busy for a while before I can teach you."

Tsukishima made an OK gesture: "Then I'll go find the student council president now."

With that, he walked toward the student council office, still eating his cheese roll.

At the student council door.

Tsukishima tossed his trash into the bin and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Horikita Manabu's voice came through.

Tsukishima pushed the door open.

There weren't many people inside—Horikita Manabu, Tachibana Akane, and a Blonde Handsome Man lounging on the sofa.