” The phone screen was cracked, but everything else was fine.
In the end, Higashino Akira did not fly into a rage at the Hakimi who had wrecked the room in the middle of the night.
After all, he was the one who had kidnapped the cat back, and the current losses were still within an acceptable range.
He could simply educate her properly in the future.
If he got too angry, would that not make it seem like he could not take a loss?
The night passed without incident.
Fortunately, perhaps because she knew she had done something wrong, the cat did not make any more trouble in the second half of the night.
She obediently curled up under the blanket and slept.
Early the next morning, Akira prepared to return to school.
His main purpose was to find his advisor and cancel his leave.
His later schedule would still be free, but he would need to regularly report his internship situation to avoid failing.
Along the way, he also needed to see what was going on with that so-called underclassman.
On the road, Akira called Kongming to ask about his situation.
Kongming had basically settled in properly, so Akira did not plan to visit him every day after this.
“Please rest assured, my lord.
Everything is well on my side.
Food and lodging are without concern, and my relationships with my classmates are harmonious.
Liang has benefited greatly because of it.” “That’s good.
Still, since you’re away from home, relationships need to be maintained a little.
I’ll instruct a messenger later to bring you some money.
Remember to receive it.” Before Kongming could thank him, Akira continued, “Also, if anyone invites you to visit some haunted house or play spirit-channeling games for adventure, don’t join in.
Ghosts and gods do exist in this world.
Respect them and keep your distance.” “Liang will obey my lord’s teachings.” Teacher Little Liang was a man of the scene.
He spoke beautifully and never grew arrogant because of his past experience or identity.
After a brief exchange, the two ended the call.
Afterward, Akira ran through various procedures at school and dealt with his advisor’s check-in questions.
He honestly explained that he did not plan to take a conventional internship path and intended to start a business instead, putting his ideas into practice through real-world experience.
His advisor did not offer encouragement, but at least he did not try to persuade Akira to give up the idea either.
He merely reminded Akira that if he could not make it out there, he should remember to come back early and study for a master’s degree under him.
His advisor was getting on in years, had considerable seniority in academia, and had students everywhere.
Seeing that he had only a few years left before retirement, he probably did not want to see the already-small final batch of his students do too poorly after graduation and become a regret in his teaching career.
Most of Akira’s classmates were either from families with some connections, letting them smoothly transition into long-prepared positions after graduation, or from wealthy families, meaning they could almost start running around to prepare for matchmaking and marriage alliances after they graduated.
As for the few who studied seriously and planned to rely on their major for work, they either entered academia and became workhorses, or passed the civil servant exam and became slackers with iron rice bowls.
Akira was not talented, but he had once wanted to be a slacker too.
He wanted to waste taxpayers’ money and become a diligent salary thief.
Ask why, and the answer was that this was what studying social welfare had taught him.
As for other career directions, was that not something a good advisor should consider?
Someone had worked diligently and studied hard for so many years, choosing this major precisely for the lower limit of career prospects historically enjoyed by his advisor’s students!
The affairs of scholars—how could they be called leeching off elders?
Hehe.
But today was different from the past.
The old days had turned into a trace of frost.
No one could predict what kinds of changes would come from here on out.
He only hoped that if he caused trouble in the future, reporting his advisor’s name would still let his advisor fish him out one more time.
A cheeky smile.
Serious version!
After saying goodbye to his advisor, Akira strolled all the way to the calligraphy club.
It was another graduation year.
There were far fewer familiar faces in the club now, and several new ones had been added.
Only one familiar face remained.
She had been there when Akira first enrolled, and now that Akira was almost graduating next year, she was still there.
“You came.” “Yes, I came.” “Perfect timing.
The club has a welcome mixer today, so you’re included.
Don’t leave after school!” This university fossil was the club president, Dreaming of Becoming a Rich Tokyo Lady.
She was skilled at misappropriating club funds and turning public expenses into private social connections, using public money to build her own relationships.
Because of that, she was quite popular.
Unfortunately, her major was even more academic.
She was nearly thirty and currently pursuing a doctorate.
Barring accidents, she probably had no hope of becoming a rich lady in this lifetime.
She waved him over, cleared the chair and table, and signaled for him to take the brush from her.
She even swapped in a fresh sheet of paper.
Akira walked over and accepted it naturally, dipping the brush into the inkstone again to moisten and straighten the tip.
“So?” “While you’re still here, write as much as you can.
This is the first time I’ve seen someone whose skill hasn’t improved, yet whose work keeps getting more valuable.
I want one for my collection.” “So yesterday’s fifty thousand…” “Still the underclassman!” The president nodded heavily in confirmation, the corner of her mouth curling into an auntie-like smile.
“A commission.
She said she wanted a formal piece, the kind with a seal.” “Why?” “Who knows?
Maybe she’s taken a liking to you.
Little girls are just fond of types like you.” “Bullshit.
Grown women are fond of types like me too.” Akira’s brush raced across the paper, and he quickly finished two calligraphy pieces.
Beside him, the older sister heard his shameless words, glanced sideways at him, and covered her mouth with restraint as she giggled.
“I like them big.
You’re too small.” Akira signed his name and slapped his seal onto the paper with a snap, feeling as though he had been insulted.
“You have the right to speak without any practical experience?” “I’m talking about age.” Putting away the seal, Akira also glanced sideways at her.
“So am I.” You want to compare age with a transmigrator who was reborn?
Inside the calligraphy club, the old members were already used to this situation and to the president’s dirty talk.
The new members, however, were dumbfounded.
They suspected they had joined the wrong place and wanted to flee several times, but they were afraid of offending a senior right after enrolling.
Two calligraphy pieces lay on the desk, one of them already stamped with his personal seal.
The older-sister president narrowed her eyes.
“Slut?” “It says ‘open and honest.'” “Then this one says ‘screw everyone’?” “You read it backwards on purpose?” Akira’s expression remained calm, carrying a remarkable stillness.
Stop trying to make your older sister laugh.
The president handed over the calligraphy piece she had nearly finished when Akira first arrived.
“Here, a return gift.” Akira spread it open, and his eyebrow twitched.
Written on it were four characters: “Make Yourself at Home.” Yet no matter how Akira looked at it, vertically or horizontally, it somehow looked like “Treasure of Women.” Was this also within your calculations?
The president met his gaze with a gentle, bashful smile.
Young man.
That smile was not an apology.
It meant: You still need practice, little brother.
Who was the president?
A spinster who had made dirty jokes for years and still remained unwanted: Amakusa Shino herself.
She really did know.
Akira had watched plenty of anime clips, and he had truly seen many two-dimensional beautiful girls with all kinds of distinct personalities.
But someone distinctive to this degree, someone who was even dirtier on the surface than boys were in private, was rare in this world.
She genuinely had no image burden as a beauty at all!
[Negative energy intrusion detected.
Fortune -1000.] [Emperor: Higashino Akira] [Fortune: Red (9100)] In the blink of an eye, the afternoon quietly passed.
The new members who had joined the club this year also finished class and arrived one after another.
At night, inside a private room at a yakiniku restaurant, there were fewer than twenty people in total, including a few third- and fourth-year students who could make it.
Under the encouragement of alcohol and dirty jokes, the atmosphere was lively.
Akira looked at the underclassmen, some laughing heartily and others shyly lowering their heads, and peacefully acted as background scenery without joining in.
A trace of reminiscence faintly appeared in his expression.
From time to time, he picked up a few slices of perfectly grilled meat, cooled them down, and placed them into a disposable little cup on the side of the table to feed Hakimi.
“What a cute little cat!” …
The more you vote, the more chapters I upload weekly.) …
Replace “é” with “e” on your web browser.)