Even though every fiber of Leo's being wanted to reach out and snap Aki Tomoya's thick-rimmed glasses, he kept his face a mask of casual, approachable friendliness. He'd spent too much time in the "trenches" of retail and customer service back in Seattle not to know how to fake a smile.
System, lock the target, Leo thought.
In the corner of his vision, a faint, translucent HUD flickered to life. A red diamond pulsed over Tomoya's head, and a data stream scrolled down the left side of his field of vision.
[Target Locked: Aki Tomoya] [Status: Plot Interference Initialized]
The connection felt like a cold thread of energy linking them. Now, the plan could actually start moving. Step one was making sure the "Greatest Otaku in Japan" saw Leo as his new best friend—or better yet, his most valuable resource.
"My name's Aki Tomoya," the boy said, his voice hitching with excitement. He adjusted his glasses with a quick, jerky motion. "And honestly, dude, I'm just like you. I live for this stuff. Anime, manga, the whole nine yards. I'm an otaku through and through."
Tomoya's eyes were practically glued to the sketchbook. Leo had drawn a young girl with silver-white hair, leaning against the massive, muscular neck of a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Both characters looked trapped in a state of half-sleep, a dreamlike haze rendered in sharp, meticulous pencil strokes. It was black and white, but the way Leo had played with light and shadow made it look like it was glowing.
"Is this... did you really just do this for practice?" Tomoya asked, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper.
"Yeah, just a quick sketch to keep my hands busy," Leo said with a relaxed shrug. He leaned back, the ergonomic chair creaking under his weight. "I've got a habit of doodling when I'm bored."
As the bell for the next period hadn't rung yet, Leo noticed the shift in the room's atmosphere. Aside from Tomoya, nobody else approached him. The "Gaijin-Otaku" combo was essentially a social death sentence in a place like Toyonosaki. He could feel the cold shoulder from the rest of the class—a thick, invisible wall of isolation. Even a couple of the girls who had been blushing earlier now looked away when he caught their eye, terrified of being associated with the "weird American nerd."
In Japan, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Leo had just stuck himself out with a neon sign.
Perfect, Leo thought, his internal monologue dripping with sarcasm. Keep your distance. I didn't come here to make friends with the NPCs anyway. Peace and quiet is a luxury.
"To draw like this 'just for fun'... man, I can't even imagine what you'd produce if you actually got serious," Tomoya gushed. He was a seasoned consumer of manga, and while he couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life, he knew quality when he saw it. To him, Leo's work didn't look like student art. it looked like the refined, polished output of an industry veteran.
"It's just a hobby, man," Leo lied smoothly. "My real focus is classical oil painting—that's what the university wants from me. I only do the illustration stuff because I love the medium. It's a good way to blow off steam."
He watched Tomoya's expression shift from awe to something more... calculating. The boy was like a shark smelling blood in the water.
"The detail on this Blue-Eyes is insane," Tomoya noted, pointing at the dragon's scales. "Do you actually play the game, or just like the art?"
"I'm a total noob," Leo laughed, playing the part of the humble beginner. "I've built a few decks because the cards look cool, but I've never really gone up against anyone serious. I'm mostly in it for the collecting."
Tomoya's jaw dropped. "No way! You're a duelist too? Man, you're the real deal. I'm trash at brain games like that. I can never get the strategies right."
Leo felt a surge of cold contempt in his gut. Brain games? You? This was the same guy who would eventually juggle three different girls' emotional states, manipulating them into working for him for free while he pretended to be "clueless." Tomoya was a grandmaster of social strategy; he just used his "brain" for all the wrong things.
But Leo kept the mask on. He projected a gentle, "big brother" vibe that contrasted with his muscular, athletic frame.
"I'm not much better, trust me," Leo said. "I mostly buy the packs to use the card art as reference material for my own projects. If I actually sat down for a duel, I'd probably get wiped in three turns."
The warning bell rang, cutting their conversation short. Tomoya scrambled back to his seat, his mind clearly buzzing with new ideas. Leo, meanwhile, pulled his sketchbook closer and continued to doodle. If he didn't want to get on the teacher's bad side on day one, he would have pulled out his laptop and started coding.
From the corner of his eye, Leo watched Tomoya. The boy was staring at the back of the teacher's head, but his eyes were vacant. He was clearly running the numbers in his head.
Leo's NZT-enhanced brain didn't just help him learn; it helped him read people. He could practically see the gears turning in Tomoya's head.
He's thinking about his game, Leo realized. He's realized that Eriri—the school's art ace—is a temperamental powder keg. She's hard to control, she's slow, and she's moody. Then there's me. A guy who can churn out professional-grade work in forty minutes without breaking a sweat.
Tomoya was already calculating the budget. If he could get Leo on the team, he might not even need Eriri. And if Leo could handle the music too? That was another several thousand dollars saved. Tomoya's "ideal romance game" was expensive, and he was currently broke.
"Aki-kun?" the teacher's voice snapped through the room.
Tomoya jumped, his glasses nearly flying off. "Yes! Here!"
The class erupted in muffled snickers. The teacher sighed, shaking his head. "Since you're so clearly focused, why don't you stand up and answer the question on the board?"
Tomoya stood there like a deer in headlights, completely lost. He ended up sitting back down with a sheepish grin while the people around him laughed. He didn't care, though. To Tomoya, being the class clown was a small price to pay for his "vision."
Leo looked down at his sketch. His hand was moving with a fluidity that was almost frightening.
The Qi cultivation was changing him. Usually, a long drawing session would lead to a slight cramp in the hand or a bit of mental fatigue. But now? His physical coordination was perfect. Every micro-movement of the pencil was exactly where it needed to be. His endurance was through the roof.
He wasn't just "good" anymore. He was a machine.
Go ahead and dream, Tomoya, Leo thought, his pencil shading in a deep shadow on the dragon's wing. Build your little team. Calculate your budget. I'm going to let you think you've found the ultimate shortcut to your dream.
He looked up at the clock. The seconds were ticking by with mechanical precision.
And then, right when you think you've won... I'm going to take everything.