The system announced the update in a highly competitive, credit-seeking tone: [It is an authentic real-time comment tracking script, Host! Moving forward, your system will zero out the requirement to wait for the formal manga serialization cycles; you are cleared to parse reader feedback and forum critiques the exact microsecond the plot events clear!]
[To frame it under basic operational logistics, it functions identically to live-stream telemetry. A filtered stream of bullet comments will seamlessly drift across your peripheral vision, allowing you to monitor reader psychological profiles at any given moment.]
[Hm? This explicitly constitutes an operational parameter adjustment across the chronological timeline. Are you certain it doesn't violate core spatial laws?]
[Affirmative, but the incoming data payload is subjected to rigorous algorithmic filtering. There is an absolute zero probability of the host experiencing future timeline precognition. Naturally, should the visual overlay disrupt your baseline comfort, it can be terminated at any given millisecond.]
Satoru Gojo concluded that this specific function possessed solid merit. At the bare minimum, it eradicated the requirement to process an unmitigated tidal wave of reader commentary all at once, effectively reducing his psychological fatigue parameters.
He hadn't anticipated that a casual, flippant complaint regarding his processing load would be registered so deeply by the system's core memory bank. Judging by the data points, the entity had spent several consecutive cycles aggressively negotiating with its administrative superiors at the Spatiotemporal Bureau to clear the asset.
Gojo's lips curled into a rare, genuine smirk of approval: [System, you displayed an unexpected degree of tactical sharpness on this occasion.]
[Hehehe, is that an authentic verification?]
[Yeah. Though your baseline performance typically tracks as thoroughly unreliable, you possess an undeniable capacity to deploy valid utility during critical milestones.]
[Waaaaah——!]
Within his cognitive sphere, Gojo could practically visualize a spherical luminous energy ball spinning with uninhibited excitement. He let out a low, soft chuckle: [Hey, hey. Exhibiting this tier of behavioral instability over a minor compliment merely proves you remain a textbook idiot system.]
[I am fundamentally not an idiot!]
The system instantaneously generated a defensive counter-argument: [Al-Although my primary functional framework lacked appropriate optimization during the opening sequence, nevertheless...] Its vocal output downshifted into a quiet, self-conscious register: [I shall continue to apply maximum effort toward upgrading my parameters!]
Hey, hey, what specific logic dictates your deployment of a bashful behavioral loop? Zero entities are requesting a visual simulation of a glowing energy ball blushing, copy!
Nevertheless... Gojo mused silently within his internal processor. Compared to a sterile, unfeeling automated calculation mechanism, navigating parameters alongside an explicitly expressive system is vastly superior.
The subsequent dawn, at approximately ten-thirty hours.
Brilliant shafts of sunlight pierced through the structural gaps of the window drapes, illuminating the facial features of the black-haired youth.
"Mnn..."
His nose twitched with minor irritation. Reaching out to grip the edge of the duvet, he executed a vertical drag to completely enclose his head, condensing his physical vessel into a compact ball to continue processing his sleep cycle.
Hiromitsu Morofushi had cleared his awakening protocols long ago and was currently reorganizing the academic media across the shelving units. Casting a glance toward his thoroughly uncooperative roommate, he stepped across the floor and delivered a succession of gentle pats against the fabric shell.
"Nozomi-kun, the timeline is rapidly approaching eleven hundred hours. If you decline to terminate your sleep sequence immediately, the solar radiation is going to toast your backside."
Gojo burrowed deeper into his pillow, displaying an absolute deficit of motivation to alter his posture.
What a ridiculous proposition—this was an official Saturday rest period! He was completely liberated from processing dry, institutional police procedures, and concurrently freed from managing the excruciating bureaucratic blunders of the Gojo clan leadership. Remaining anchored to his mattress was practically a mandate of cosmic law.
Morofushi let out a soft sigh, preparing to deploy a secondary behavioral prompt, when the dormitory entrance was suddenly subjected to a rhythmic knock.
"Hiro, are you currently operational within?"
"Affirmative."
He crossed the room to disengage the locking mechanism, revealing Furuya Rei standing across the threshold while casually balancing a culinary blueprint manual in his palm.
"Zero? What specific objective is driving your movement?"
Furuya Rei lightly agitated the manual: "Have your memory files encountered a structural lapse? You explicitly stated during a prior block that you would guide my parameters through basic cooking execution once the rest period cleared, correct?"
Hiromitsu blinked, his features loosening into an instant smile: "Naturally. However..." He re-routed his visual focus toward the bedding assembly adjacent to the window drapes—specifically tracking a highly suspicious, cocoon-shaped mass. "...We must first wait for a specific entity to finalize his awakening sequence."
Furuya poked his head across the threshold line to scan the sector: "Hisano remains locked in a sleep cycle?"
"Yeah, his baseline motivation has been thoroughly pinned to the mattress since dawn."
Furuya Rei processed the parameters for precisely two seconds before abruptly elevating his vocal volume: "According to the latest terminal updates, the cafeteria's highly restricted inventory of limited-edition buttered potatoes is tracking at near-zero capacity!"
Shua——!
The duvet was violently jettisoned. Satoru Gojo sat bolt upright, his unstyled black curls flaring out in chaotic vectors as his crimson eyes narrowed into sharp slits: "Identify the exact volume of remaining units."
"..."
Furuya Rei's face morphed into an expression that signaled "Data prediction completely verified," silently moving his lips to deliver a message to Hiro: "I knew this specific stimulus would trigger an instantaneous reaction loop."
Morofushi compressed his lips to suppress a laugh, his cat-like eyes curving into an exceptionally gentle arc.
"Magnificent. The duo of you is practically begging to be subjected to a definitive curse engineered by the Deity of Buttered Potatoes—"
Disregarding the continuous stream of verbal complaints echoing adjacent to his ear, Furuya Rei flipped open the culinary manual, pointing directly toward a high-definition illustration of an omurice to present the data point to Hiro.
"Factoring in my status as an absolute novice within this specific operational field, prioritizing the mastery of foundational recipes yields the highest structural returns, wouldn't you agree?"
"My personal skill matrix is highly optimized for this specific dish, there will be zero room for failure."
Intercepting their dialogue, Gojo's eyes flashed with sudden interest: "Eh? Little Hiro is executing a bespoke culinary session today?"
Though the cafeteria's confections scored reasonably well on his preference tracker, the standard savory rations were a thoroughly mediocre simulation of food. He had hit his terminal boredom threshold with those items long ago.
"Correct, I am guiding Zero through his baseline training... We will need to migrate to the commercial supermarket complex shortly to acquire raw ingredients."
Furuya nodded in agreement, leaning his frame against the doorjamb while crossing his arms, a brow arching toward Gojo who had just managed to slide his torso into a fresh shirt: "Hisano, your profile likewise registers an absolute deficit in culinary execution parameters, does it not? Capitalize on this rare window and allow Hiro to optimize your skill set."
Gojo blinked his eyes in rapid succession, collapsing his physical structure backward like a thoroughly lazy feline to melt straight back onto the mattress: "Absolutely—declined—"
"Processing culinary logistics is an immense drain on my computational efficiency. My ideal lifestyle paradigm is to exist as a blissful, high-consumption parasite who functions exclusively as a consumer asset."
Furuya let out a heavy sigh: "You absolute menace of an individual..."
"Alright, alright."
Hiromitsu Morofushi reached down to physically hoist the flattened human puddle off the mattress, his delivery saturated with deep, earnest concern: "Developing a personal proficiency in food preparation introduces immense positive modifiers to your baseline physiological health, you know."
Gojo agitated his head in a violent negative alignment: "Declined!"
"Mnn... Very well then. Once the procurement phase is finalized, you will report to the kitchen sector to serve as my primary assistant. How does that compromise track?"
"That specific arrangement is cleared for execution—"
A short duration later, the trio manifested inside a commercial supermarket complex situated within the school's immediate geographic radius.
Gojo manipulated the trajectory of the shopping cart, humming an erratic melody while trailing directly behind Furuya Rei and Hiromitsu Morofushi. Speaking of which, he had yet to log a single instance of the "real-time comment tracking script" the system had boasted about... This suggested that today's domestic interlude simply lacked the narrative weight to be drafted into the official manga panels.
A perfectly logical distribution of space; manga pages are bound by strict layout restrictions after all.
"Little Hiro~ I am requesting a direct simulation of your teriyaki chicken thighs."
Morofushi processed the request: "That necessitates routing our path to acquire a premium teriyaki sauce base."
Furuya Rei interjected: "Weren't you explicitly assigned to the role of a pure consumer? On what authority are you entering bespoke demands into the menu registry?"
Gojo maintained absolute moral supremacy: "This is formally classified as delivering creative inspiration, copy?"
When the tracking cycle finalized, they had aggregated fresh chicken poultry, salmon portions, an assortment of tempura, a diverse matrix of vegetables, and a box of chocolate donuts that Gojo had smoothly introduced into the cart's inventory via a stealth protocol.
As they reported to the checkout terminal, Gojo parsed the logistics for a microsecond before extracting a promotional discount voucher he had casually liberated from Hagiwara's uniform pocket, presenting it to the cashier.
"Verify if this token clears your transaction parameters."
The cashier reviewed the printing: "...Sir, this specific authorization token expired precisely seven days ago."
"Deploy a minor policy bypass, big sister~"
The black-haired, crimson-eyed youth delivered the request with a voice that practically dripped with refined sugar parameters: "As you can see, our unit is executing a high-volume transaction."
To maximize the visual output, he concurrently reached out with both arms to physically reel Furuya Rei and Hiromitsu Morofushi into his immediate spatial perimeter, anchoring them into a tight, close-quarters formation.
The young female cashier was hit with an instantaneous, max-output visual strike from three distinct elite aesthetic specimens simultaneously. Her face flared into a brilliant crimson as her speech patterns fractured into severe stutters: "I-In that case, I shall authorize a highly exceptional, specialized discount loop..."
The duo who had been forcefully weaponized as aesthetic bait: "..."
Did they literally just bypass financial rules utilizing nothing but their physical features?
[Ding! Impression metrics inherited from major narrative entity Hiromitsu Morofushi have increased by 100 points!]
[Ding! Impression metrics inherited from major narrative entity Furuya Rei have increased by 100 points!]
Upon executing their return to Dormitory 144, the trio prepared to initiate the washing sequence for the raw vegetables when the entrance was subjected to a sharp knock.
"Yo, what specific operation is this unit running?"
Jinpei Matsuda, Kenji Hagiwara, and Wataru Date stood across the threshold, their visual sensors actively scanning the environment with intense curiosity.
Observing the massive mountain of culinary assets occupying the mini-kitchen terminal, Hagiwara let out a low whistle: "Are we running a private, off-grid culinary event here?"
The memory of the fried pork cutlet scent he had intercepted during a prior timeline flashed through Matsuda's processing queue, causing his gastric system to generate immediate acoustic feedback.
"Our unit initially intended to conscript your parameters into a standard cafeteria run, but it appears that logistical plan is entirely redundant."
Hagiwara chuckled, stepping into the space: "Word has long cleared the grapevine that Little Morofushi's culinary skills are exceptionally optimized. Conveniently enough, my personal matrix includes basic cooking subroutines; how about I integrate into the space to assist your operations?"
Wataru Date voiced immediate concurrence: "Log my profile into that assistant loop as well."
Matsuda possessed an absolute deficit of proficiency regarding food preparation. He scratched his head with visible hesitation before finally forcing out: "In that case... should I likewise report for duty?"
"Eh? If my data files are uncorrupted, didn't Little Jinpei explicitly state during a prior timeline that he would sooner plunge from the structural roof of this complex before processing a single calorie from Morofushi's sector—"
Matsuda slapped a hand squarely over his childhood companion's mouth, his tone dropping into a low hiss: "If you decline to maintain absolute silence, zero entities are going to mistake you for a functioning communicator."
The instant this cluster of massive physical frames squeezed into the space, the dorm room—which was fundamentally unoptimized for high occupancy—became intensely restricted. Concurrently, the ambient noise parameters experienced an immense, festive spike.
Gojo spread his palms: "It appears the midday ration parameters have officially scaled up from a three-person layout to a six-person matrix."
Morofushi let out a warm laugh: "There is zero structural issue. Our Onizuka cohort requires occasional social synchronization outside the rigid confines of the official dining hall."
Thank goodness his predictive models had operated flawlessly, ensuring the raw inventory weight he purchased was entirely sufficient to sustain the expanded load.
Without requiring further verbal coordination, the six-man circle systematically divided the operational subroutines. Hiromitsu Morofushi, Kenji Hagiwara, and Wataru Date locked down the positions of lead chef and dual assistant chefs to manage the high-heat thermal processing blocks. Furuya Rei, aside from executing basic prep work, focused entirely on archiving the correct sequential culinary parameters under Hiro's explicit training.
As for Jinpei Matsuda and (the ostensibly unoptimized) Satoru Gojo, whose skill sets were completely alien to food engineering... their duties were strictly limited to slicing raw vegetables and waiting for the menu to clear so they could open their mouths and consume the output.
Under the unified output of the collective circle, the kitchen terminal rapidly discharged an immensely enticing, rich aromatic payload into the atmosphere.
The dining interface was systematically populated with premium tomato omurice, rich teriyaki chicken thighs, a savory tofu and pork stir-fry, a crispy tempura platter, garlic-infused salmon, and the mandatory, structurally necessary presence of miso soup.
Having organized the dining utensils, the six individuals condensed their frames within the dormitory perimeter, sitting cross-legged on the floor to initiate consumption. With knees lightly contacting adjacent knees, the social atmosphere relaxed to a degree far surpassing their daily campus operations.
"Zero, your intellectual processing capacity is undeniably elite."
The fluffy, golden egg blanket perfectly enclosed the savory fried rice beneath, its upper surface adorned with a highly aesthetic smile face engineered utilizing calculated streams of tomato ketchup. Strictly on visual presentation, it was completely indistinguishable from a premium commercial restaurant dish.
Hiromitsu Morofushi delivered unmitigated praise without a single trace of reservation: "Your natural talent regarding culinary engineering is remarkably profound, Zero."
Furuya Rei smiled: "That data point merely proves Hiro functions as an exceptional educational asset." He bit into a portion of tofu, his curiosity triggered: "Hagiwara, Class Leader, what specific historical catalysts drove your personal acquisition of cooking skills?"
"Ah, regarding that parameter~" Kenji Hagiwara systematically speared a fried shrimp: "If an entity harbors the long-term ambition to manifest as an immensely popular man and securely lock down a woman's emotional allegiance, he must logically master the science of capturing her gastric system first. Consequently, I historically executed an extensive training loop under my older sister's supervision to master these specific subroutines..."
"Right, the remaining members of this table have yet to log this specific file, correct? My older sister constitutes an absolute pinnacle of aesthetic beauty, you know! Furthermore, she represents Little Jinpei's definitive first love—"
"Wow!!"
Triggered by their base gossiping instincts, the collective intelligence at the table experienced an instantaneous spike in focus.
However, confronted with Matsuda's extreme physical resistance and homicidal glare, Hagiwara executed a tactical cough and terminated the data download: "Well, we can unpack those archives should an appropriate logistical window manifest in the future."
A faint flush surfaced across Wataru Date's features, his rugged aura softening into an exceptionally gentle presentation.
"As for my sector, I initiated the acquisition of cooking subroutines explicitly for my girlfriend. When she initially relocated to Japan, her system encountered severe compatibility issues with traditional domestic rations. Consequently, I calculated that I must master at least a handful of Western recipes to stabilize her nutritional intake." He let out a proud laugh: "As a direct result of that continuous trajectory, my motivation expanded until I simply desired to master every single field."
The single bachelor units at the table, suddenly overwhelmed by the intense olfactory pollution of a functional romantic relationship: Dammit, had our computational models predicted this output, we would have completely vetoed the question!
Furuya Rei analyzed his self-made omurice with a deeply contemplative gaze.
"I register the distinct impression that my output still lacks a definitive, underlying core variable... It appears that to elevate a dish to the absolute peak of palatability, an entity requires a powerful, overarching catalyst?"
Satoru Gojo executed a massive "Amu" bite, completely devouring a massive payload of rice as his cheeks puffed out like a rodent, processing the mass while speaking concurrently: "Little Zero, if your system requires a definitive catalyst, you might want to run a calculation loop prioritizing my coordinates."
"Ha?"
"[Applying maximum effort toward mastering the culinary arts explicitly to ensure Lord Hisano's gastric capacity is continuously saturated, thereby forcing his features to radiate a blissful smile.] How does that specific narrative catalyst track within your processing queue?"
Furuya Rei: ...Appreciation extended, but my system explicitly declines to integrate that specific variable into its operational matrix.
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100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter
10 Reviews = 1 Bonus chapter