A Familiar Figure

Opening the door to Room 601, Mazumi Mami stepped inside.

The scene within was far more spacious than he had anticipated.

"They call this a single room, but the size..." He glanced around, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "It's practically like a small apartment."

The room had excellent lighting—a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows let in the gradually slanting afternoon sun, offering a wide view. His room sat at the end of the hallway, with the windows facing the main road leading to the dormitory entrance, allowing him to clearly observe the flow of people coming and going—undoubtedly a prime spot for monitoring movement.

But what drew his attention more was the interior configuration. Upon entering, there was a simple entryway; to the left, a separate bathroom with a wet-dry division, its fixtures brand-new.

Further in lay a spacious living area, furnished with a comfortable sofa, a coffee table, and a desk. Against one wall was an open-plan kitchenette, equipped with an induction cooktop, a range hood, a sink, cabinets, and even a medium-sized refrigerator, a microwave, and an electric kettle.

The bedroom area was separated from the living room by a sliding door, containing a standard single bed, a wardrobe, and another desk.

The air conditioner hummed quietly, maintaining a pleasant temperature.

"These conditions... for a high school dormitory, isn't this a bit too generous?" Mazumi Mami's fingers lightly brushed the smooth kitchen countertop, suspicion growing in his mind. "Necessary material support is understandable, but such a setup—rather than cultivating student discipline and frugality, it feels more like encouraging them to enjoy life, or even... foster dependence."

"Is there really such a thing as a free lunch? Or rather, a school so generous just for the sake of 'education'?" He maintained a clear-eyed skepticism.

He moved casually around the room, admiring the layout, touching the furniture, checking if the appliances worked. But at the same time, a subtle and powerful mental force—imperceptible to ordinary people—spread outward from him like an invisible scanner, meticulously probing every corner of the room.

Wall cavities, ceiling light fixtures, power outlets, furniture gaps, vents... anywhere that might conceal listening or surveillance devices.

A moment later, he withdrew his mental force, slightly reassured. "No abnormal electronic signals or suspicious devices detected. At least this room itself seems 'clean' for now."

"It appears that the 'Mazumi Mami' identity my Imperial Father arranged for me has decent cover, without drawing any extra 'attention' from the school administration."

He walked to the window, watching students trickle back below, his thoughts drifting. "Still, this identity was arranged so seamlessly—background, medical history, social connections all perfectly aligned... Just when did my Imperial Father start laying the groundwork?"

"Could it be... among his countless early 'romantic entanglements,' there happened to be a suitable candidate?" Thinking of his Imperial Father, renowned in the empire for his grand strategy and—to some extent—his "amorous" reputation, Mazumi Mami couldn't help but press a hand to his forehead, inwardly complaining. "Hopefully, this time I'm not saddled with some half-sibling setup or something... Forget it. Since I'm here, I'll make the best of it."

He reined in his thoughts, his gaze sharpening once more. "Regardless, the infiltration is successful. Just like any mission before—step by step, gather intel, analyze the target, formulate a strategy, and then... complete the mission."

He checked the time. Time to buy ingredients for dinner. "Since students are allowed to cook for themselves, there must be a store nearby selling fresh ingredients." He recalled the campus map and shop information Chisato Nishikigi had shared in the group chat, locking onto a medium-sized fresh supermarket not far from the dormitory.

"I'll walk slowly, take the chance to observe more."

As he left the dormitory, the sunset had dyed the sky a warm orange-red, but the campus's vitality hadn't faded; instead, with dusk's arrival, a leisurely atmosphere had settled in. Students wandered in twos and threes, chatting and laughing as they moved between various shops.

Coffee shops and bubble tea stores were packed, students holding drinks, chatting easily, reading, or just staring out the window. Clothing stores buzzed with girls happily trying on different styles of casual wear.

The electronics store was especially lively, with many boys gathered around the latest game consoles, laptops, or headphones, discussing animatedly, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

Everyone seemed immersed in the freedom of consumption brought by this seemingly inexhaustible supply of "points," indulging in youthful energy and desire.

The scene was beautiful, like a campus utopia.

But Mazumi Mami walked past calmly, his heart undisturbed, even carrying a cold, scrutinizing edge. "Can this carnival-like consumption atmosphere really last? Is this school truly a carefree paradise of youth?" He thought coolly, his gaze sweeping over the students spending freely. "There's never a free lunch. Such generous giving must come with an equally—or even more—demanding price."

"Ten thousand points per person per month, equivalent to ten thousand Shenzhou Currency. That's just for the one hundred sixty first-years—one hundred sixty thousand per month. And that doesn't include the second- and third-year students. Such a massive injection of 'virtual currency'—just to let students enjoy material life?"

"School operations, material procurement, faculty salaries... all require real money. Points clearly can't be directly converted into currency in the outside world."

"So, what is the real 'fuel' sustaining this points economy? Is the students' 'consumption' itself providing something to the system? Or... could these points themselves be a form of 'debt' or 'evaluation'?"

As he pondered this question, which might touch the school's core mechanism, he walked along the tree-lined path toward the fresh supermarket.

Passing by an elegantly decorated coffee shop, he didn't particularly pay attention to the seat by the window.

Yet, just as his figure swept past the glass pane—

Inside the café, Karuizawa Kei, who had just been enjoying a drink with her newly acquainted female classmates Matsumoto Chiaki and Mori Nene, suddenly shot up from her seat as if pierced by something invisible, nearly knocking over her coffee cup.

"!"

Her gaze snapped toward the window, a flicker of disbelief and... a certain intense throb crossing her face.

"What's wrong, Karuizawa-san?"

Matsumoto Chiaki, sitting across from her, was startled by her reaction and asked in confusion.

"Yeah, you scared us standing up so suddenly."

Mori Nene beside her blinked, also puzzled.

But Karuizawa Kei seemed not to hear them clearly, her violet eyes fixed on the tall, slender figure in a red coat about to disappear around the street corner outside, her heartbeat inexplicably quickening.

"Sorry! Please wait for me!"

She said hastily, not even bothering to explain further, grabbed her small bag, and rushed out of the café onto the sidewalk.

Yet, the evening campus path was crowded with people, and that fleeting silhouette had already merged into the throng, vanishing without a trace.

She looked around anxiously, left and right, but found nothing.

After a moment, she bit her lip in slight disappointment and slowly walked back into the café.

"So, what was that all about?"

Matsumoto Chiaki pressed curiously.

Karuizawa Kei sat back down, took a deep breath, trying to calm her inexplicably restless mood, but her gaze kept drifting toward the window.

"I just... I think I saw."

Her voice was low, tinged with uncertainty yet a strange conviction, "My target for coming to this school."

"Huh?"

Mori Nene let out a puzzled sound, exchanging a confused look with Matsumoto Chiaki.

Target? What target?

It didn't sound like she was talking about an ordinary classmate or friend.

But since they had only met today and weren't close, seeing that Karuizawa Kei showed no intention of explaining further, they didn't press the matter, though the atmosphere grew slightly awkward.

Karuizawa Kei didn't rejoin the conversation, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Her fingers unconsciously traced the rim of her coffee cup, replaying that brief glimpse in her head over and over.

That profile... that inexplicable sense of familiarity and pull... it couldn't be wrong.

She lowered her head, a complex, unreadable glint flashing in her violet eyes.

At that moment, Mazumi Mami was completely unaware of this.

He had already entered the fresh supermarket, carefully selecting ingredients for the evening hotpot while continuing to observe the product pricing and point consumption within the store, trying to analyze more clues about the school's economic system.

A surging undercurrent, woven from multiple forces around him, seemed to be quietly growing more turbulent with this dusk.