'Let's watch something.'
I plopped onto my bed, grabbing my phone. The best way to pass time was simple—anime.
I could watch about seven episodes of any anime I wanted before school starts.
That gave me plenty of options.
After a moment of thought, I settled on One Piece.
I had left off at around episode 500 back in my world. Considering the timeline here, the series had around 800 episodes aired so far. That meant I could easily catch up.
With a satisfied nod, I pulled up the episode list and hit play.
But eventually, reality called.
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A glance at the time told me it was 8:00 AM.
After getting dressed in my uniform—I grabbed my bag and headed out.
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The moment I entered Class D, I noticed it.
Most students were already forming their circles.
The more introverted ones stayed in their seats, some using their phones, others flipping through books.
Ayanokoji was one of them. As expected, he was keeping a low profile, blending into the background.
Though he had Horikita nearby.
Without bothering to look around, I walked straight to my seat and sat down.
.
.
I pulled out my phone, plugged in my earphones, and opened a novel app. The moment I hit play on my music, the world around me faded into white noise.
The sound of students laughing, the occasional shuffle of footsteps, even the scraping of chairs—it all blurred into the background.
If I had to spend 3 years in Class D, I might as well make it comfortable.
And just like that, I lost myself in the words on the screen.
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The door slid open.
Chiyabashira Sae stepped in.
Instantly, the classroom fell quiet—well, quieter. Conversations died down to whispers, and a few students scrambled to look busy. I didn't lift my head, but I did pause the music with a quick tap, just enough to keep myself aware of what was happening.
But then something… strange happened.
Her gaze swept across the room. Naturally. She was probably gauging the atmosphere, checking attendance, or maybe just making mental notes.
But when her eyes reached my direction—they paused.
For a second. Two. Three.
Longer than normal.
I didn't react outwardly, but inside?
'What the hell?'
My fingers paused on the screen, the light novel I'd been reading instantly forgotten. I kept my posture relaxed, but my heartbeat had picked up slightly. It wasn't fear, exactly. More like a sudden jolt of anxiety you get when a teacher calls your name for no reason—except this one hadn't said a word.
'Jarvis… did she just stare at me longer than everyone else?'
[Affirmative. Eye contact lasted approximately 2.8 seconds longer than the average for other students.]
Damn it. That wasn't just in my head then.
'Any ideas why?'
[Would you like me to analyze possible reasons for the discrepancy in behavior?]
'Go for it.'
[Cross-referencing behavioral logs, known institutional rules, and yesterday's actions…]
[Possible cause: your visit to the free item section yesterday. Surveillance camera confirmed direct visual contact. While your actions were within school rules, selecting the three free products while still having 100,000 points may have registered as noteworthy behavior.]
I blinked, lips pressing into a thin line.
'Shit, I made sure no student saw me, But i forgot about the teachers and staff!'
A short sigh escaped me.
'This can just probably be seen as a stingy student trying to maximize freebies.'
[Correct. No direct consequence is expected.]
Either way, I wasn't about to change anything. Drawing attention wasn't part of the plan, but avoiding suspicion didn't mean acting overly cautious either. In a place like this, overacting could be just as dangerous as underreacting.
.
.
The morning passed without much incident.
Japanese, Mathematics, World History, and English—just the usual rotation.
Most of my attention went toward my phone, since I knew none of the teachers would say anything, I continued on with my reading session.
Hirata was, as expected, the center of attention. Friendly, open, naturally magnetic—exactly the kind of guy people gravitate toward. I watched as he offered to have lunch with anyone interested, but before a single male student could respond, a swarm of girls had already pulled him into their orbit and walked him out the door.
Ayanokoji may have considered joining for a moment according to the light novel, but he couldn't.
Not that I planned to join anyway. I wasn't interested in the social performance that came with groups.
So, I simply stood, made my way to the cafeteria, and grabbed the free meal. Nothing special.
.
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A few days passed, and the routine of school settled in. It wasn't exactly thrilling, but it was manageable.
Some students had started talking to me. Ike and Yamauchi approached me one day during lunch. They were the typical jocks—loud, obnoxious, and obsessed with the female population of Class D. Their conversations usually boiled down to who they thought was the cutest girl, random rumors floating around school, or debates about pointless stuff. I didn't particularly care about any of it, but I played along when needed.
Then there was Sudo. He was different—not by much, but enough to make a difference. He didn't talk as much nonsense, and while he was still energetic, he wasn't trying to drag me into his world. It was easier to talk to him. He came off as aggressive sometimes, but there was a kind of blunt honesty to him that made things straightforward.
In contrast, there was Ayanokoji.
We exchanged a few words. Nothing substantial. Our conversations never lasted more than a minute or two. But that didn't bother me. In fact, it felt natural. We were both loners in different ways.
The days passed in a blur-School life wasn't exciting, but it wasn't stressful either. Just tolerable.
I still hadn't joined any clubs, and the club fair had been a joke in my mind. I had no interest in being dragged into another scheduled activity, surrounded by people who thought enthusiasm equaled value. If I was going to spend three years in this school, I'd rather invest time in something meaningful—like reading, watching anime, learning, or training.
Especially training.
Every morning at 4:00 AM, Jarvis would take control of my body and run through the workout plan we'd designed together. Calisthenics, cardio, explosive movement training—all structured around increasing my speed, strength, and stamina. The best part? I didn't even feel it. When I regained control, only a minute or two had passed from my perspective. Sure, the post-workout effects—like mild soreness, hunger, or the satisfaction of a good burn—were still there. But I skipped the boring part entirely. No dragging myself out of bed. No mental resistance. Just results.
While other students struggled through morning fatigue, I'd already trained, showered, made breakfast, and finished a volume or two of whatever novel I was reading. Sometimes I watched anime instead. Sometimes I did both.
But that wasn't all I used Jarvis for.
Our late-night internal chats were becoming more frequent. During one of those, I brought up something that had been lingering in the back of my mind.
'I want you to enable an auto-reflex mode,' I'd said. 'If something—or someone—tries to harm me, I want you to take over my body and get me out of danger instantly. Your reflexes are faster than mine. You process input faster than I ever could.'
[Understood. Auto-reflex mode has been enabled. I will only intervene during immediate threats. You retain full mental control and decision-making.]
Violence was common in this school, So i had to be prepared for it.
I also started a new method of physical training. I'd watch martial arts tutorials—karate, taekwondo, aikido, boxing—anything that caught my interest. Then I'd let Jarvis take control of my body and mimic the katas, practicing them in my room. Jarvis could perform them itself perfectly just after watching, however if there came a need for me to fight myself, I had to ingrain them into my muscle memory.
But, As i had never fought anyone before, I gave Jarvis another command.
'If I ever have to fight, take control of my body and apply everything you've learned. But don't act on your own—I'll give the intent. You execute it with my consciousness guiding it.'
[Understood. Combat override will require your conscious trigger. I will optimize movements and responses based on your intent.]
Of course, there was still the issue of recovery. Training like this, especially with constant repetitions and pushing physical boundaries, would normally tear a person down.
But I had that covered too.
Jarvis monitored my vitals and recovery cycles, adjusting routines as needed to avoid burnout. When necessary, he would trigger muscle relaxation protocols—simple breathing techniques, postural shifts, or sleep alignment corrections that helped speed up natural healing.
My physical performance curve was rising faster than I could've imagined.
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