Aoyama Osamu deliberately zoned out, simply observing what his body would do.
His right hand moved first, grabbing a pen. Left hand followed, pulling out a notebook.
'Taking notes for me? If so, that's actually smart.' Aoyama Osamu thought.
The pen wrote on the notebook: Curry without Green as a human shield? His skinny frame would've been smashed. Which league superstar needs the whole team as babysitters? (lol)
He knew it!
The note was torn off.
'#30 jersey is Curry? Wait, who's Curry?'
The torn scrap was balled up, ready to flick from his bent finger—when Aoyama Osamu regained control.
The math teacher's voice reached him.
"Everyone, look at this problem: x³ + 3x² + 3x + 1. Factor by grouping…"
Listening while reaching with his left hand for the paper ball in his right.
But as he moved—clearly focused on class—strength surged to his right index finger, building flick power.
—System, you win this round!
Aoyama Osamu gave up, focusing on the lesson. His right hand stayed in flick position, more intense than he was.
The bell rang, but the teacher kept going.
Aoyama Osamu tried for the paper ball—his finger tensed again.
It even detected overtime lecturing? Smart or not smart?
Only after the teacher truly ended did Aoyama Osamu destroy the "evidence."
"Miyama-san, I like Curry too," Aoyama Osamu said to the basketball girl.
"Huh?" Miyama Yuri looked puzzled, unsure why he said that suddenly.
But once she registered his words, the reason didn't matter.
"Really?" She beamed. "Aoyama-kun, you're into basketball lately? Want to join the club? I know guys on the boys' team—I can introduce you!"
[High School Romance Novel: 19%]
"No thanks," Aoyama Osamu smiled.
A polite smile—accepting kindness but declining the offer.
"Aoyama, didn't you say the school requires you to join a club? Not basketball? Try soccer?" Kobayashi Shiki suggested.
"Can I visit first?" Aoyama Osamu asked. "Aizawa, what about kendo? I've never joined one before—I want to learn more."
"Of course!" Kobayashi Shiki acted like he ran the soccer club.
Aizawa Jun nodded, no issue.
He had to visit anyway—start with familiar territories.
"Time's up. Let's go," Aizawa Jun said.
Third period was PE, why they chatted during break.
The classroom buzzed—this rare non-study time was pure relaxation.
Everyone grabbed clothes, changed in the locker rooms, and gathered on the field.
"Warm up first," the burly PE teacher said. "After, girls run 800m, boys 1500m."
"Ugh~" Groans of reluctance echoed.
The teacher ignored them: "One lap, go!"
He blew his whistle hard; the group started jogging sporadically.
"Run together later?" Kobayashi Shiki asked.
"Sure," Aizawa Jun nodded.
"Anyone slacking gets 20 points off the monthly exam for carelessness!" Aoyama Osamu warned.
"What'd I just say?" Kobayashi Shiki puzzled. "Actually, I just isekai'd to another world as the Hypnosis Brave, beat the Demon King, got sent back by God—so for me, what happened a second ago is months old…"
Aizawa Jun chopped his hand.
"Jerk!" Aoyama Osamu was more civilized—mouth only, no hands.
But Aizawa Jun, from the sports club, couldn't stand Kobayashi's shamelessness; slow-running Aoyama Osamu felt betrayed.
One lap done, they regrouped at the start.
"Boys first," the PE teacher said.
Boys stepped up; many ditched jackets, down to short sleeves.
Girls waited behind—some struggling, others eyeing the boys.
Aoyama Osamu stared at the empty track ahead, psyching himself up—actually checking his panel.
His Vitality: C was average human stamina, but Speed: D dragged him below normal for long runs.
In this era, how many were "normal"?
He wasn't bad—just not like sports club Kobayashi or Aizawa.
But he wasn't running himself.
"Ready—" The PE teacher drew a "gun" like a yakuza.
Aoyama Osamu toed the track, leaning forward.
The air hushed; nearby boys' breaths—nervous, uneasy, excited—filled his ears.
—System, run!
[Test scenario detected. Activate Smart Guidance?]
—Activate!
Bang!
Boys surged forward.
Aoyama Osamu lost control, blasting ahead.
No lane restrictions for the 1500m test—so while the pack barely covered 10 meters, Aoyama Osamu lapped the inner track alone.
"He's nuts?" Kobayashi Shiki glanced at Aizawa Jun.
"No clue," Aizawa Jun said.
"Did he hear 1500m as 100m? Or 50m?" Kobayashi added.
In the distance, Ono Mizuki—also in PE—saw it and whispered, "I told him to rest more."
Meaning: Aoyama's head was still messed up.
At max speed, Aoyama Osamu tired by 50m.
—System, are you insane?
No reply—the system offered no chat, or complaints.
He finished lap one fast.
The PE teacher watched, hesitant, then called: "Three steps in, three out—breathe! Keep going!"
Aoyama Osamu overtook the late-starting girls, plunging into their group, inhaling their scents deeply.
"Aoyama-kun, this is 1500m—pace yourself!" "Aoyama-kun, go!" "Aoyama-kun!"
After he passed, a girl told another: "So cool!" "First time seeing Aoyama's side profile up close!" "His arm brushed me!" "He's okay running that fast, right?"
At 200m, Aoyama Osamu didn't slow—felt like biking up a steep hill, wobbling.
300m: Gale-force wind on the hill.
400m: Vision flickered; blackout imminent.
500m: He told himself: Don't faint—no matter the pain. Real men don't pass out!
510m: He surrendered—fainting was mercy.
Legs turned to pain-transmitting meat slabs.
"Hey, you good?" The PE teacher jogged alongside, worried.
Aoyama Osamu's handsome face was expressionless, coldly intense—eyes locked on the finish like a pro assassin.
600m: He became a vegetable, consciousness trapped in an immobile, voiceless shell.
Even cheating on PE tests couldn't keep up!
700m: Faint. 701m: Wake. 750m: Faint. 751m: Wake.
That day—Kaimei High's third Monday of the term, cherry blossoms fully faded, spring warmth in the air—Aoyama Osamu broke the national high school 1500m record for the first time.
Crossing the finish, he knelt on the track and collapsed straight back.
[Guidance ended. First place obtained.]