As his physical abilities continued to rise, Asakusa Toru drew ever closer to the limits of what could be considered human.
Aside from not having awakened any supernatural powers, in some sense, he could hardly be called human anymore.
When strength reached a certain level, the gap that technique could create diminished infinitely—especially when he and the "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka" before him already possessed equal skill.
With technique equalized, what remained was simple—trading blows, fists meeting flesh, injuries for injuries.
His body had already reached its limit of enhancement. Continuing like this would only amount to something akin to playful sparring.
And he had no intention of flirting with a man.
Even if there was still time left, even if he could withdraw now and spend it indulging with Amasawa, the determination he had already ignited wouldn't allow him to back down.
"Boom—"
Strike with the elbow. Beat each other down. Then die together.
And finally—
Welcome my "graduation ceremony."
Perhaps because both of their physical capabilities had reached such heights, the definition of "defeat" in this battle had subtly changed.
At the beginning, when he fought Amasawa, a single sweeping kick would already count as losing combat ability, triggering a reset.
But now—
Even when their faces were swollen and bruised, even when flesh turned into a bloody mess, even when bones cracked audibly—
The fight continued.
In a sense, it had become a battle to the death.
As long as they weren't completely killed, no matter how many times, both sides could stand back up and deliver another fatal strike.
…That said, as time dragged on, their strength inevitably weakened.
The sounds of violence faded. Breathing grew heavier.
Only the intent to "kill" remained unchanged.
So Asakusa Toru reached out and grabbed Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's neck.
At the same time, he allowed the other to grasp his own throat.
"—Crack."
"—Crack."
The sounds rang out simultaneously.
Darkness swallowed his vision for a brief moment.
The world around him began to reset—but not into another continuation of battle.
The headband slipped from his forehead.
He had achieved his goal.
There were no hidden stages, no extra trials.
The existence known as "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka" was the final curtain of the White Gym.
[Congratulations. You have completed all courses in the White Gym.]
[You have now graduated, member.]
His blurred vision gradually cleared. Standing once more at the starting point, black-and-white text appeared before him.
But then, the surroundings twisted again.
"Power. Wealth. Violence."
"An ambition that expands endlessly, regardless of cost."
"Is what I seek an 'ultimate masterpiece' that surpasses all others?"
"No. It isn't."
"What I desire, what I long for, what I aspire to—"
"Is myself, standing at the very top, looking down on everything."
A composed voice spoke.
A man with slicked-back hair, exuding overwhelming pressure even just by appearance, appeared before him.
A middle-aged man named Ayanokoji Atsuomi sat across from him on a sofa, calmly speaking of his… "ambition."
The words held no meaning for Toru. The voice itself was dull.
"You destroyed my ultimate masterpiece," the man said.
Toru raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. And?"
"So, you've graduated."
"Congratulations. You've obtained the ultimate, strongest 'violence' that everyone desires."
"As a complement to that power, and as a reward befitting an 'outstanding graduate'—"
"Choose one."
Three files were placed neatly on the table.
From left to right: Amasawa Ichika, Simarc, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
Names, photos, information.
What he already knew, what he didn't—rough stats and brief evaluations were all listed.
Toru: "?"
Choose what?
As if reading his thoughts, the man spoke again.
"—A private assistant."
"You've graduated. You've defeated my 'ultimate masterpiece.' But this is not the end."
"To maintain physical ability requires constant training. The results of training will fade with neglect."
"I do not wish for graduates of my… 'White Gym' to decline due to laziness."
He paused slightly before continuing.
"So, choose."
"..."
You're making it sound like picking a spouse.
Still, it made some sense.
"What if I don't choose?" Toru leaned back, not even glancing at the files.
Honestly, he was more curious about the purpose of this whole scene.
Was this some kind of transition sequence after intense training?
No way this guy was actually dragged here to roleplay as the owner of the "White Gym," right?
Forcing him to call the White Room a "White Gym" was almost ridiculous.
"That case—" Ayanokoji Atsuomi spread his hands calmly. "You'll receive a completion certificate instead."
Pretty flexible.
"Then Amasawa," Toru said casually with a shrug.
So the difference between "graduation" and "completion" lay in the selectable private assistant.
If the goal was maintaining peak condition, Ayanokoji would be the best choice.
But he had no interest in training with a man every day.
He had already burned through enough mental energy tonight. Continuing would just be pure violence with no meaning.
Amasawa, at least, was more… enjoyable.
He definitely wasn't going to "bully" Ayanokoji. That would just feel wrong.
"I understand."
The moment those words fell, the other two files ignited and turned to ash.
Only Amasawa Ichika remained—along with a certificate that drifted down.
"Congratulations. You've graduated."
The calm voice echoed. The room shattered.
And then—
The world reformed into the familiar white space.
A red-haired girl with twin tails sat idly in her usual spot, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, tightening and loosening it repeatedly.
Before Toru could observe for long, she noticed him and turned with delight.
"You're here?" She jumped up and rushed over, pressing her soft body against him.
Her voice dripped with warmth as she whispered by his ear, "Congratulations on graduating."
"Now it's time for your private assistant session~"
...
Toru thought for a long time about what Ayanokoji Atsuomi's appearance meant.
Was he just a stand-in to deliver a graduation scene?
Or did it hold deeper significance?
After thinking for a while, he still couldn't figure it out.
So he gave up trying.
Most likely, the guy was just there to hand out rewards and play the role.
After all, among everyone in the White Gym, he was the most fitting figure.
Too bad recording wasn't possible here. Otherwise, Toru would've loved to record that line—"my White Gym"—and play it for Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
That would've been hilarious.
With a shift in thought, his state reset. The white world dissolved back into reality.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, falling onto the bed.
Perfect timing.
Morning had come.
His stomach churned, demanding food. The vanished membership card had been replaced with a beautifully designed graduation certificate.
Four bold characters were written across it:
"Supremacy of Strength."
"..."
He glanced at it briefly, then casually stuffed it into his diary.
Nice handwriting. Not the time to admire it.
Time to eat.
And after eating—
Time to deal with Sakura's "fan."
...
Rooftop.
Noon.
"…Why do you feel a bit different?"
Kushida Kikyo sat beside him, leaning forward slightly as she sniffed the air curiously.
It had only been half a day, but something about him had changed.
The scent hadn't changed. It didn't feel like he had been with another girl either.
"Don't like it?" Toru casually played with a strand of her hair, controlling his strength with ease as he asked.
Of course there was a change.
Though only half a day had passed in reality, he had fought Ayanokoji for what felt like hundreds of days.
Even after adjusting mentally, it was hard to fully return to his usual relaxed state.
"Changing the subject." Kushida snorted lightly and didn't press further.
He clearly wasn't going to answer.
Just like last time—when he said he had something to do and left her hanging.
"Sakura didn't come with you?" Toru glanced at the closed door.
Letting him play with her hair, Kushida's own hand slipped under his shirt, casually feeling his abs.
"She said following me would attract too much attention," Kushida said with a slight smile. "She texted that she'll come later."
Last time, going to Kushida's room had already been Sakura's limit. Walking openly behind the school's "angel" to the rooftop would be far too noticeable.
Not Kushida—Sakura herself would stand out.
Her hesitant steps, nervous expression, lowered head—anyone would notice.
The more she tried to avoid attention, the more she attracted it.
Unlike Kushida, who could blend in effortlessly by toning down her presence.
Still, asking Sakura to walk confidently was unrealistic.
And given her figure, standing upright would draw even more attention.
So her usual hunched posture suited her better.
For Sakura Airi, this was enough.
"..."
Not long after, before the sun grew too intense, the door opened cautiously.
A small figure peeked in.
"I-I'm here…" she said softly.
Toru pointed toward the switch, signaling her to lock the door. Once the red light lit up, the slightly restrained atmosphere vanished.
Their movements became more natural—more open.
Closeness returned.
"Uu…"
Sakura fidgeted, unable to speak.
But before she could hesitate further, Kushida pulled her over.
"Come here—"
Watching Sakura's timid, pitiful demeanor was already starting to irritate her.
Better to just throw some of Toru's excess energy at her.
After all, Sakura was easy to satisfy.
"Mm…"
Pulled into Toru's arms, squeezed together with Kushida, Sakura let out a soft, silly laugh.
"Hehe…"
See? That was all it took.
Though…
It was getting hot.
This weather was unbearable.
Kushida tapped Toru's thigh lightly.
"Enough. Let's get to the point. Why did we even come all the way up here?" she muttered.
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