Crazy Shopping, School Intel Organization

Bai Mu walked with an unusually relaxed stride, carrying the million-point balance he had earned by sweeping through all sorts of clubs that afternoon. It had to be said, the atmosphere at Advanced Nurturing High School was truly simple and brutal—if your strength was sufficient, points would come rolling in.

From the billiards club and Go club to the boxing club, the upperclassmen had practically been "charity tycoons." They had actively handed over points, intelligence, and connections, turning a lost match into a win for their judgment as they took the opportunity to befriend a promising newcomer. In just a few hours, the transactions in his personal account had surged by hundreds of thousands. It was practically the fastest money-making record since enrollment.

As he passed through the campus shopping district, Bai Mu stopped when he spotted the school's electronics store.

Thinking of the old desktop in his dorm that could only be described as an "electronic antique," the corner of his mouth twitched. It took half a minute just to boot up and ages to load anything. It could barely manage simple research, but opening one extra tab would make it freeze and crash. Forget organizing documents—it was enough to drive anyone with obsessive tendencies insane in daily use.

Now that he had plenty of points, the first thing to do was naturally replace that ridiculous piece of equipment and get himself a complete set of top-tier tools.

He pushed open the door and entered the electronics store. Its displays were clean and orderly, with all kinds of digital devices spread out before him—from lightweight laptops and desktop towers to peripherals and accessories. Everything could be paid for entirely with school points, without spending a single yen in cash. The school covered it all.

The prices were far from affordable; they could even be called highway robbery. But Bai Mu did not care in the slightest. After all, he had earned these points for free through his own ability. If he did not spend them, they would go to waste. There was no need to make himself suffer for some meaningless savings total.

Without the slightest hesitation, he skipped over the mid-range models and headed straight for the high-end section.

A high-performance lightweight laptop—portable and packed with performance, perfect for carrying around, checking intelligence, and organizing files anytime; a fully loaded desktop setup, with a top-of-the-line graphics card and processor, more than capable of handling intensive data organization, file analysis, and multithreaded computation. He also got a mechanical keyboard, high-definition monitor, noise-canceling headphones, and a full set of peripherals, maxing out the configuration in one go.

After that satisfying shopping spree, the bill came to exactly 298,000 points.

He had thrown nearly 300,000 points into it—equivalent to 300,000 yen, or nearly 15,000 yuan. For a high school student, it was absolutely extravagant spending.

The clerk remained respectful throughout. After all, a first-year student who could casually spend 300,000 points without even blinking was one of a kind in the entire grade.

"Sir, you can take the lightweight laptop with you today. The desktop requires registration and an appointment. We'll come by tomorrow to assemble and configure it."

"No problem."

Bai Mu nodded, paid by card, registered his dorm information, and left carrying his brand-new lightweight laptop, crisp and efficient from start to finish.

Looking at the superbly made new computer in his hands, then thinking of the ancient relic in his dorm, Bai Mu had only one thought: this money had been incredibly well spent.

Back in his single dorm room, 402, Bai Mu shut the door and cut off the noise outside. Only then did he finally relax completely.

The advantages of a single room were on full display now. No one disturbed him, there was no noise, and privacy was at its peak. It perfectly suited his dislike for socializing and preference for solitude.

He casually placed the lightweight laptop on the desk, took out the black USB drive he had collected from the boxing club's locker that afternoon, and plugged it into the computer.

The instant the drive was read successfully, a dense array of folders popped up. They were clearly categorized and packed with detailed content—an upperclassman's carefully prepared school survival package.

It had to be said, Yamada, the boxing club president, was a smart man.

After witnessing Bai Mu's strength in both academics and combat that afternoon, and figuring out his low-key, steady temperament—neither arrogant nor impetuous—he had decisively chosen to show goodwill first, offer gifts, and build a connection. He did not pick sides or try to attach himself to anyone; he simply established a relationship in advance. That kind of foresight and perspective far surpassed that of ordinary upperclassmen.

Bai Mu casually opened the main document and began sorting through this precious internal intelligence item by item. The academy's previously vague rules instantly became clear and transparent, and all the fog lifted away.

First came the most fundamental truth—the much-hyped 100% advancement and 100% employment privileges were not benefits for every student at all. They were exclusive VIP privileges for Class A.

Once the three-year program ended, only students who remained on the Class A roster could receive guaranteed admission to elite universities and direct recommendations to top companies—the ultimate reward that secured a brilliant future.

As for the students of Classes B, C, and D, they were merely cannon fodder running alongside the real contenders.

Most Class B students could only rely on their own entrance exams to advance to higher education, competing on equal footing with ordinary high school students outside; the lower-ranking students of Classes C and D had it even worse. They would most likely be forcibly diverted by the school and assigned to some other mediocre institution.

Next were the core dual-point rules that supported the academy's entire operation.

Class Points, CP, determined class rankings, levels, and the amount of personal points distributed each month. One CP corresponded to 100 personal points per month. The honor and disgrace of the entire class were tied together—when one suffered, all suffered; when one prospered, all prospered. Once CP fell to zero, the class would immediately trigger severe penalties. Everyone's privileges would be restricted, points would continue being deducted, and ultimately the entire class would face expulsion.

Personal Points, PP, were the universal hard currency within the school. Food, clothing, housing, transportation, intelligence privileges, venue rentals, concealing disciplinary penalties—everything could be exchanged for with them.

What truly caught Bai Mu's attention, however, was an absurdly powerful ultimate privilege hidden away in a corner of the rules, one that very few people knew about.

Twenty million personal points.

As long as one accumulated that astronomical sum, one could ignore all class rankings and academic-year rules and obtain two supreme privileges: first, unconditionally nullify one expulsion-level penalty; second, directly transfer into Class A as an exception at the end of the school year, forcibly securing a spot for elite education and employment.

Seeing this, Bai Mu could not help but chuckle. They had truly taken "money talks" to the extreme.

Advanced Nurturing High School had never possessed absolute fairness. So-called supremacy of ability was, at its core, a comprehensive contest of one's ability to use rules, resources, and strategy. As long as one had enough points, the rules would yield, and disadvantages could be forcibly overturned.

Beyond that, the document also detailed the various special exams held every semester, class-versus-class mechanisms, hidden point-deduction rules, and secret bonus-point missions.

Uninhabited island survival, the VIP Exam, the Sports Festival team battle, mixed-group assessments... every exam was a brutal game. Winners seized massive amounts of points and raised their class rankings; losers saw their CP plummet and might even have students forcibly designated for expulsion by the school.

The school never actively eliminated outstanding students. Instead, it used layer upon layer of exams and invisible rules to slowly filter, exploit, and remove the weak—a gentle blade that cut through human nature, killing without spilling blood.

Bai Mu moved the mouse with his fingertips, categorizing, organizing, and reviewing each item, engraving every loophole in the rules, exam tactic, and elimination mechanism into his mind.

His goal had never been to dominate the academy, crush every class, and ascend to Class A. He only wanted to take it easy, study seriously, and graduate smoothly. But that did not mean he was willing to passively take hits and let others manipulate him.

Mastering every rule and holding every card in advance, laying plans ahead of time, was not about competing for superiority. It was simply so that he would never be dragged into the game, never be eliminated, and always remain free.

Just as he was sorting through the intelligence and calculating the future situation, his phone screen suddenly lit up. A private message appeared, and the sender's name was especially eye-catching—Ichinose Honami.

[Ichinose Honami: Good evening, Bai Mu~]

[Ichinose Honami: I heard you swept through several school clubs after class today, and even the upperclassmen weren't your match. That's way too amazing!]

A small surprised emoji followed the message, gentle and lively, without the stiffness of deliberate politeness.

Bai Mu raised a brow and tapped the screen lightly, privately marveling at Ichinose's terrifying ability to gather social intelligence.

It had only been an hour or two since he had challenged the various clubs and swept through the upperclassmen. He had kept a low profile and held back the whole time, without making a big show of it, yet the news had already reached Ichinose's ears.

At this moment, most first-year students in Class B were still consumed by anxiety over points and fear of expulsion. They knew nothing about the situation outside their class or the activities of school clubs. Ichinose alone had already built an intelligence network spanning upper and lower grades and connecting every class. That cohesion and social talent were unquestionably Class B's greatest treasure.

He neither deliberately showed off nor acted excessively modest. He simply sent a brief reply.

[Bai Mu: Just a casual spar. I got lucky and won a few matches.]

The moment the message was sent, his phone practically received an instant reply.

[Ichinose Honami: You're way too modest! So many upperclassmen said you're incredibly strong and especially gentlemanly. You know exactly where to draw the line whether you win or lose, and everyone thinks very highly of you now~]

Looking at the warm, sincere words on the screen, Bai Mu fell into slight contemplation.

Ichinose Honami was undoubtedly the class beauty of first-year Class B. She was pretty in a delicate, lively way, with a gentle, soothing temperament. Her features were clean and mild, and she naturally gave people the impression that she was easy to approach. Her looks ranked among the very best of all the first-year girls, while her figure surpassed everyone else's.

Even rarer was the fact that she had none of the arrogance beauty often brought. She was humble and tolerant toward others, clear-minded and kind-hearted, with an exceptional ability to empathize. She always considered the feelings of those around her first. Gentle, yet not weak; friendly, yet with a proper sense of boundaries.

Setting aside her outstanding appearance and likable personality, the most frightening thing about her was her extraordinary initiative and social coordination skills, far beyond those of her peers. While other freshmen were still confusedly watching from the sidelines after entering school, passively adapting to their new environment and trapped in anxiety over the rules, she had already taken the initiative to connect with upperclassmen, establish an intelligence network spanning different year levels, soothe her classmates' emotions, unite the class, and systematically sort through the school rules, managing the class atmosphere in perfect order.

Such control of a situation, organizational ability, and execution were not things an ordinary high school student could possess. Bai Mu saw it clearly: Class B currently appeared disorganized, with its newcomers still ignorant and unformed, but that was only temporary. Given time, with her exceptional personal charisma, outstanding organizational ability, and reputation trusted by the whole class, she would surely establish herself firmly as Class B's leader, become the class's core pillar, and lead Class B to secure its footing in the struggles among the classes.

As these hidden pieces of information passed through his mind, Bai Mu neither probed too much nor deliberately concealed anything. Looking at his phone screen, he sent a simple reply, indirectly returning the goodwill behind her friendly approach.

[Bai Mu: Be careful from now on. There's a hidden student conduct assessment during the first month.]

The instant the message was sent, it was almost immediately marked as read, followed by a rapid reply.

[Ichinose Honami: A conduct assessment? Is the school holding an exam? The teachers never told us about it!]

Ichinose Honami's words were filled with surprise. Clearly, she knew nothing about it. Not only her—neither Class B nor the entire first year had received any related notice so far. Everyone believed that the beginning of the school year was merely an adjustment period, without any assessment pressure.

Bai Mu lightly tapped the screen with his fingertips and concisely revealed the key point. He did not spoil the later exams, only pointing out the deadliest rule trap.

[Bai Mu: It's not a written exam. It's an assessment of behavior and conduct. The school monitors every student's daily words and actions through the campus cameras. Any violation, discourtesy, carelessness, or other behavior that fails to meet student standards won't result in individual points being deducted. The class points will be deducted directly first.]

That single short sentence struck directly at the most insidious underlying logic of Advanced Nurturing High School.

Visible school rules were not frightening. This kind of hidden assessment—with no notice, no warning, round-the-clock surveillance, and covert deductions in the background—was the deadly pit most likely to trip up freshmen.

Once class points were deducted, every student in the class would receive fewer personal points the following month. One person made a mistake, and the entire class took the blame—a perfect illustration of class-wide binding and collective punishment.

Ichinose on the other end of the phone immediately became completely serious, her previously relaxed tone vanishing at once.

[Ichinose Honami: So that's how it is... That's terrifying! No wonder the upperclassmen were unwilling to say much about the rules. You really can't guard against this kind of secret point deduction.]

[Ichinose Honami: Thank you, Bai Mu! You've really helped us so much! I'll remind everyone in the class group right away, so everyone can watch their words and behavior lately, avoid violations as much as possible, and protect our class points!]

No further reminders were needed. Ichinose's ability to act was always reliable. The instant she learned this crucial information, her first thought was not self-preservation, but the interests of the entire class. That breadth of mind and sense of responsibility also destined her for a future leadership position.

Watching her messages rapidly appear, Bai Mu calmly replied with two words.

[Bai Mu: Okay.]

That was enough. He said no more.

He had no need to play savior, nor did he need to shoulder everything. Offering a small reminder was simply a way to return her goodwill, stabilize the class environment, and protect his own monthly point income. Nothing more.

The prerequisite for studying peacefully was stable class points and a class where no one did anything reckless. As long as Class B did not hemorrhage points or collapse ahead of time, he could safely make it through the initial adjustment period.