Clean roads. Clear signage.
A handsome boy strolling with his hands in his pockets like a man with nothing to love — his feelings, at the moment, were complicated.
The evening sun had set half the world ablaze, painting his back and his short black hair in burnt orange.
First, there was something worth celebrating: the contents of these texts — sent by who knows whom, of who knows what nature — could be changed.
Because Oreki Gen had not, in fact, been shot dead in that classroom by Sakuraba Mitsuki.
If these messages functioned as previews of key plot events about to unfold, delivered in the girls' own voices, then when the forecast was bad — even life-threatening — they could serve as an early warning, giving him a chance to take preventive action and alter the outcome.
The problem was that these texts never seemed to preview anything good...
And there was another critical takeaway.
Sakuraba Mitsuki would genuinely kill him.
Whether the other heroines would kill him, and for what reasons, remained unknown. But clearly, compared to the version of Sakuraba Mitsuki portrayed in the doujin, the cold, proud heiress with a passion for painting that he was now dealing with was far more complex.
This meeting hadn't been a simple exercise of her time-stop power to tighten her grip on him. She'd come prepared — ready, if he somehow broke free from the time stop or showed any intention of exposing her ability, to silence him without a second thought...
The thought of it made Oreki Gen grateful for his quick mental pivot and the timely use of his X-Ray Vision.
Up the stairs to his apartment floor, then down the hall to his door.
He glanced at the neighboring door. This time, there was no Kikyou Satomi popping out to invite him to dinner.
But walking inside, Oreki Gen knew perfectly well — there was no way she'd just sit quietly next door and leave him in peace forever. Maybe nothing had happened yet. Or maybe things he wasn't aware of already had.
So it seemed that no matter what evasion tactics he employed in this doujin world, no matter how he tried to dodge the Bad Endings, the world itself would use some miraculous course-correction power to force contact with these women.
Giving up and coasting was no longer an option. Otherwise, situations like today's would keep happening.
Back in his room, Oreki Gen took a cold shower, rapidly cooled his head, and began formulating a strategy.
He couldn't coast — that much was certain. The correction effect's existence guaranteed that whatever he least wanted to happen, would.
Next was the question of how to handle "them." Under no circumstances could he remain purely passive, going with the flow.
If they held the initiative, they'd eventually discover he was in contact with multiple girls simultaneously, and the Bad Endings would trigger all the same.
So what should he do?
The system...
The texts...
Oreki Gen.
He drew a deep breath.
It seemed he'd have to take the initiative — just a little. Make contact with composure. Navigate relationships with caution. And all the while, work toward a single goal: an outcome that absolutely would not trigger a Bad Ending.
The system had told him a Happy Ending existed. And the prerequisite was "capture."
What did "capture" even mean? Conquering their bodies? Dominating them through desire? Or was winning their hearts the superior strategy?
After careful analysis, Oreki Gen concluded that relying on either one alone was unreliable.
If he went for the heart, he might get swept up himself, lose the initiative, and trigger a Bad Ending through their possessiveness and fury at being deceived.
If he relied entirely on desire to claim their bodies and make them insatiable, that wouldn't fully solve the problem either. It could easily backfire — desire couldn't dominate someone forever.
So the picture was clear.
He no longer needed to hide. He didn't need to flee from every encounter and every triggered event, because the texts would likely warn him before anything happened. And if he kept running, even more absurd superpowers might manifest. What he needed was to keep them guessing about his thoughts and actions during these encounters.
Generate interest. Let them believe they held the initiative. Meanwhile, pursue a two-pronged approach — earn system rewards to boost his ability to protect himself, while secretly seizing control...
One thing was obvious: a pure, single-route romance was out of the question. This was inevitably headed toward a harem ending. Because after transmigrating, this was his reality now. Thinking he could play one route safely to shore? Impossible. The others would never just stand by.
Having thought it through with crystal clarity, Oreki Gen let out a long sigh and took a massive gulp of carbonated bliss.
This scumbag role — he was committed to it.
***
"Oreki Gen. Are we brothers or aren't we?"
"Huh? You having a fit?"
Morning. The school campus. Matsuyama Shota stood beside his desk wearing an expression of utmost gravity. Honestly, this was the first time Oreki Gen had seen his buddy look like this.
Matsuyama Shota practically seethed. "Who's having a fit? You are! I've always treated you as my closest friend, and now I find out you've been going behind my back..."
Oreki Gen glanced around. Thanks to Matsuyama Shota's theatrical gesturing, quite a few pairs of eyes had drifted their way. He rubbed his messy bangs with mild exasperation.
"Just spit out whatever you want to say. I don't have the bandwidth to act out a family drama with you, especially not a two-man one."
Matsuyama Shota was indeed the dramatic type — to be expected at his age, the golden era of chuunibyou.
He looked at Oreki Gen with palpable anguish.
"I used to think you were like me... a staunch advocate of the single life, uncaptured by any pretty girl... But it turns out you — you actually know Sakuraba Mitsuki!"
Naturally, it was about that.
Oreki Gen hadn't even needed to guess. He sighed and looked at Matsuyama Shota.
"Brother Shota..."
"I said stop calling me that!"
"Fine, fine, fine. My point is — simply knowing someone shouldn't exactly be a capital offense, should it?"
Matsuyama Shota was practically grinding his teeth.
"Knowing? Just knowing? Hardly anyone in this whole school has gotten close to her — even getting a few words out of her is a pipe dream! And she comes to find you after school, for a private one-on-one chat! You call that a normal relationship? You kept this from me, let me think you were just like me — I'm the clown here!"
Slap a red nose on and you'd be indistinguishable from one.
But Oreki Gen didn't say that out loud. Matsuyama Shota wasn't a bad person, after all. He was simply the kind of ordinary teenager who feared his buddy's suffering — and feared his buddy pulling up in a Rover even more.
Oreki Gen couldn't help but smile.
"It's not as serious as you think. There was a misunderstanding, she came to ask me about it, and once it got cleared up, that was that."
Matsuyama Shota squinted suspiciously.
"What misunderstanding?"
"Sorry, can't say. I promised her I'd keep it confidential."
"You two already have secrets between you?!"
"...It's not really that kind of thing."
Matsuyama Shota was clearly in the throes of a persecution complex. He gazed at the horizon with theatrical sorrow, his tone absurdly dramatic.
"I always knew no one could accompany anyone to the end. Even the best of friends must part one day. I just didn't expect it to come this soon... It's just me now. From here on, I'm on my own."
"It's really not that dire. I don't have many friends. You're my best one."
Oreki Gen patted Matsuyama Shota on the shoulder.
Matsuyama Shota's eyes glistened as he looked at Oreki Gen.
"You know, the guys who always say they don't have many friends, who happen to be good-looking, and who keep having girls come seeking them out — those guys are always harem anime protagonists. You're aware of that, right? Don't tell me you've already got yourself a harem of pretty girls behind my back?"
"How could I? I don't."
"Swear it!"
"I swear I don't."
Mm. I swear I don't — for now.
But down the road? That was another story.
Watching Matsuyama Shota, who seemed to have found at least some comfort, Oreki Gen sighed internally.
Sorry, man... Shota.
Life comes first. So relax for now — you'll have plenty to worry about later.