In the quiet activity room,
Takumi Yuuya studied the girl by the window.
Her features were delicate, her skin fair.
Soft black hair fell gracefully over her shoulders.
She wore the standard black school uniform, paired with a plaid skirt.
Black over-the-knee socks hugged her slender legs.
Between the skirt and the socks, the brief flash of bare skin — the so-called "absolute territory" — was just perfect.
Snap.
The sound of a book closing echoed in the room.
Takumi looked up and met Yukinoshita Yukino's icy gaze.
He smiled awkwardly.
"Minister, that's a look of admiration," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Tell me," Yukino replied coldly, "how much money would it take for you to voluntarily resign from the Service Club?"
"To see you every day? That's priceless," Takumi answered seriously.
"One million yen," Yukino said flatly.
Takumi blinked. "Minister, I have fifty million yen in savings. I'll give you ten million. Can you bring me a lunchbox every day?"
"Ten million? Fine. Transfer it to me. And forget just lunchboxes — I could even come to your house and cook for you," Yukino said, laughing with irritation.
This man was just an ordinary exchange student.
How could he possibly have ten million yen on hand?
Even if he really did have fifty million, there was no way he'd spend ten million just for her cooking.
Only a fool would do something like that.
She already disliked him enough — and now he was lying like this?
"Minister, here's exactly ten million yen," Takumi said, producing crisp, new bills from the drawer. "You can come cook at my place as you suggested."
Yukino froze.
She looked at the money, then at Takumi.
Who carries ten million yen around in their bag?
Takumi stood and smiled.
"I trust that Minister will honor her words. After all, you've never kicked me out of the Service Club."
"This ten million yen can be exchanged for you personally cooking for me. That's a great deal."
"I've given you the money. Whether you accept it or not is your decision."
"Well then, see you after school, Minister."
With that, he left the clubroom.
Yukino stared at the closed door, checking the authenticity and amount of the money.
A few minutes later, her face was full of disbelief.
Ten million yen. Not a yen more, not a yen less. All real.
"Ten million yen… just to make me cook?"
She couldn't comprehend it.
After a long pause, she gathered her thoughts and looked at the money.
What should she do? Accept it or not?
If she refused, it would be a sign of regret, and Takumi would be thrilled — he'd use it to tease her endlessly.
If she accepted… she'd have to cook for that annoying boy every day.
Even in the clubroom, his gaze was irritating enough. What if she went to his house?
Yukino glanced out the window, remembering that day.
"Yukinoshita-san, I want to join the Service Club."
"Give me a reason to join."
"I know a secret of yours."
"You know my secret?"
"If I'm right, you won't kick me out of the Service Club."
"Fine."
She hadn't expected him to actually know a secret.
And so… he became a member of the club.
Walking back to the classroom,
Takumi glanced at the virtual screen floating in front of him.
"Dislike level from Yukinoshita Yukino +20."
A smile curved across his lips.
As expected, increasing dislike was much faster than improving favorability.
Trying to raise a girl's affection in this world — for someone who had been single all his life before transmigrating — was no less difficult than challenging Uchiha Madara.
Increasing disgust, however? Simple.
They hate something? He does it.
Of course, he had to be careful.
Too much, and it's no longer just increasing disgust — that's called weaponizing cruelty.
Takumi closed the virtual screen and gazed out the window.
It had been a month since he arrived in this world.
His goal was singular: Yukinoshita Yukino.
So far, her daily disgust level had risen by 10 or 20 points.
One point of disgust equals one score point.
A hundred points unlocks a bronze treasure chest.
The minimum reward is ten million yen, the maximum is one hundred million.
He had opened it four times, totaling one hundred million yen.
He bought a house for fifty million.
Subtracting the earlier ten million, he still had forty million in deposits.
This money could be withdrawn anytime. What looked like him taking it from the drawer was actually him pulling it from the system.
Takumi withdrew his gaze and looked forward.
Next, Yukino would definitely negotiate with him.
In truth, as long as she was willing to bring him a lunchbox every day, he'd consider it a success.
After all, she was the second daughter of the Yukinoshita family.
Her bento couldn't possibly be bad.
Riding his bike to buy food every day would be a waste of time — and probably not very tasty.
Class 2-F.
This was Takumi's class.
He sat in the back row by the window — a standard protagonist seat, though he refused the title.
If anything, calling him a villain would be more accurate.
The real protagonists… there were three.
Takumi glanced at the boy in front of him, glasses perched neatly.
Tomoya Aki, a hardcore otaku.
Then the black-haired boy in the middle row.
Kyosuke Kosaka, seemingly ordinary, with a rustic childhood friend.
And finally, the original protagonist of Class 2-F:
Hikigaya Hachiman, the "Great Sensei."
He was Takumi's most admired male lead — and his teammate in recent PE class.
Afternoon classes ended quickly.
Takumi packed his bag and went downstairs, waiting for Yukino.
Soon, she appeared from the opposite corridor.
Seeing Takumi, Yukino took a deep breath.
"Takumi-kun, I—"
He didn't wait for her to finish and went down the stairs.
Yukino clenched her fists in frustration and followed behind him.
At the shoe rack, Takumi changed shoes and headed for the bicycle shed.
Yukino followed.
At the shed, Takumi found his bike and unlocked it.
Turning around, he faced Yukino.
She stepped forward, blocking him.
Takumi smiled.
"Minister, if you stop me like this, anyone watching might think you're harassing me."
"I'll honor my words. I'll bring you a lunchbox every day, but I won't cook at your house daily."
"Eh? I thought you said—"
"I'll return the ten million yen and guarantee your daily lunchbox will satisfy you," Yukino said flatly.
"No need to repay the money — consider it a meal allowance. But I have one condition. As long as you agree, you won't need to come to my house to cook."
"If the condition is excessive, the ten million yen will become your hospitalization fee," she added expressionlessly.
Takumi smiled.
"My condition is…"