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Leo watched the devastation on Aki Tomoya's face. The kid looked like a kicked puppy, his notebook of "ideas" hanging limply in his hand.
Too hard, Leo calculated instantly. If I break his spirit completely, he becomes useless. A broken tool can't farm points.
He needed to pivot. The "slap" had been delivered; now it was time for the "sweet treat."
Leo's expression softened. The cold, corporate disappointment melted away, replaced by a warm, empathetic smile—the kind of smile that made you believe everything was going to be okay. He reached out and gently closed the notebook in Tomoya's hand.
"Tomoya-kun," Leo said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't look so crushed. You think I was born a master artist? My first drawing... god, it looked like a pile of dog poop. I tried to draw a horse, and my teacher asked me why the potato had legs."
Tomoya looked up, blinking. The resentment and shame that had been building in his chest began to dissipate, replaced by a flicker of hope. "Really?"
"Really," Leo lied smoothly. "But it was that ugly, four-legged potato that started everything. Everyone's first step is clumsy. The fact that you have the courage to write anything down puts you ahead of ninety percent of the population."
Tomoya swallowed hard. He had expected a lecture, or worse, for Leo to demand his money back. Instead, he was getting understanding.
"I... I just feel like I'm wasting your investment," Tomoya admitted, his voice thick with emotion.
"You're only wasting it if you quit," Leo said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "There's an old saying in China: 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and a great river is formed from countless small streams.' You're just at the beginning, Tomoya. I believe in your eye. I believe in your passion. You just need to learn the craft."
Leo watched the transformation happen in real-time. Tomoya's posture straightened. The dull look in his eyes was replaced by a fiery, fanatical gratitude.
Hook, line, and sinker, Leo thought, suppressing a smirk.
[Target: Aki Tomoya. State: Extreme Gratitude/Renewed Resolve. +300 Points.]
Leo mentally tallied the score. This was why he had chosen this world over something like School Days. Sure, he would have loved to twist Makoto Ito's head off, but that was a one-time transaction. Aki Tomoya? He was a renewable resource. He was a golden goose that laid eggs of validation every time Leo manipulated his emotions.
It was classic PUA tactics applied to social engineering. Break them down, build them up, make them dependent on your approval. If he did it right, he could farm thousands of points off Tomoya before the game was even released.
"I'll do my best, Leo-kun!" Tomoya said, his eyes burning with intensity. "I won't let you down!"
"Easy, tiger," Leo laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Don't burn out before we start. Go back to your seat. Class is starting soon. Your job right now is to be a student, not just a producer. Don't let your grades tank, or we'll have bigger problems."
"Right!" Tomoya nodded vigorously, clutching his notebook like a holy scripture as he returned to his desk. He immediately opened it and began scribbling furiously, his earlier writer's block seemingly vanished.
Leo rested his chin on his palm, watching him work. He felt a surge of dark satisfaction. He felt no guilt. Tomoya wasn't as detestable as some anime protagonists, but he was self-absorbed and often insensitive. Milking him for points felt like a public service.
Work hard, little lucky cat, Leo thought. Make me rich.
After School.
The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the pavement as Leo stood by the school gate. He leaned against the rough bark of a massive cherry tree, his laptop bag slung casually over one shoulder.
He checked his watch. 3:45 PM.
He didn't have to wait long. The sound of rapid, light footsteps approached from the direction of the main building.
Kasumigaoka Utaha was running.
It was a rare sight. The "Ice Queen" usually moved with a slow, deliberate grace, as if rushing was beneath her dignity. But here she was, clutching her bag, her long black hair streaming behind her, her chest heaving slightly as she skidded to a stop in front of him.
She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her usually pale cheeks were flushed a delicate pink.
"Sorry," she gasped, looking up at him through her bangs. "The teacher... went overtime. Kept us for... an extra ten minutes."
Leo pushed off the tree, raising an eyebrow. "Overtime at Toyonosaki? That's rare. The teachers here usually sprint for the door faster than the students."
"Tell me... about it," Utaha managed, straightening up and smoothing down her uniform skirt. She looked flustered, human, and undeniably attractive.
"Take a breath, Senior," Leo said with a smile. "We're not in a rush. Wait here."
He turned and walked to the vending machine a few meters away. The machine hummed with a low electric buzz. He slotted in a few coins and pressed two buttons.
Clunk-thud. Clunk-thud.
He retrieved the drinks—a chilled black coffee for himself and a slightly sweeter milk tea for her. He walked back and pressed the cold bottle against her cheek.
Utaha jumped slightly, then took the bottle. "Thank you."
She cracked the cap, the seal breaking with a sharp snap. She took small, ladylike sips, closing her eyes as the cool liquid soothed her throat. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
"I didn't want to keep Sonoko-san waiting," Utaha explained, her breathing finally returning to normal. "She cleared her schedule for us. If we're late, she gets... grumpy."
"Grumpy editor?" Leo chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Sounds scary. Let's go then. I'm looking forward to meeting the woman who handles the great Kasumi Utako."
Utaha shot him a glare, but there was no heat in it. "Just... don't be too charmed by her. She's a dangerous woman."
"I like dangerous women," Leo said, holding her gaze for a second too long.
Utaha looked away, hiding the renewed flush on her cheeks behind her drink. "Let's just go."