Chapter 11 : A Not-So-Perfect Strategy Plan

The tram ride to Yingcheng High takes about fifteen minutes one way. Shangguan He and Yamazaki Miki live in the same district, so they board at the same station. They’re not the only students doing so. Once on the tram, the carriage is a sea of sailor uniforms. Legs for days, skirts fluttering. Morning sunlight streams through the windows, casting a dazzling white glow. The cramped carriage brims with vibrant high school girls, chatting and laughing with friends, poised and charming. In a manga, this scene would demand a double-page spread to capture the lively energy of all these JKs.

Shangguan He only wishes he’d maxed out his drawing skills. If he had, he could sketch this moment into a masterpiece like “JK Commuting Chronicle” and etch his name into the annals of amateur anime artists. To be clear, this isn’t a women-only carriage. There are other guys besides him—huddled in corners, reduced to magenta or dark blue silhouettes. The first time he saw them, he was shocked, muttering to himself, ‘This world is way too harsh on background male characters. They don’t even get proper models…’

But he quickly grasped the meaning behind the laziness. This world is extremely kind to him, the “protagonist.” You could even call it groveling. But this “kindness” isn’t all good—he learned that the hard way in his first playthrough.

Sitting on the tram, Shangguan He stays still as a rock. Channeling the stoic spirit of Liu Xiahui, he closes his eyes. He’s made up his mind for this second playthrough. This time, he’s aiming for the NE—Normal End.

In Galgames, triggering a Normal End isn’t exactly easy. Two types of players typically hit it: The first are playboys who flirt with everyone, chasing every girl they meet, calling them “wifey” left and right, only to end up with no one’s affection high enough for a Good End. The second are newbies who don’t know the game’s systems, mismanage choices, or mess up timing.

Shangguan He’s a gaming pro—triggering an NE is child’s play for him. Beyond carefully balancing affection levels to avoid maxing out, there’s an even simpler way to hit the NE: Do nothing. Or, in cooler terms: reject this groveling world’s advances. No talking to romanceable girls, no triggering affection events. Abandon his “protagonist” privileges. Live like a background character.

Why go this route? For one, he’s scared that “clearing a Good End” might make him disappear entirely. On another level, yesterday’s trip to investigate the mysterious sailor-suited girl’s school yielded some results but wasn’t worth the “eight hours wasted traveling” blunder. So why not lean into the mistake? This playthrough, he’ll skip romancing and focus on targeted investigations.

To him, this world revolves around “romance.” Every setting, every backdrop, every detail exists to push the “protagonist” and “heroines” toward love. This untouchable romance utopia is common in ACG works. If he follows its logic and diligently pursues girls, he’ll have no time for anything else. And that “anything else”? Simple: like the protagonist of a certain game, he wants to uncover the hidden truths behind this world.

“A-He, we’re here!” Miki’s lively voice rings out, followed by a hearty slap on his back, as if injecting her energy into him. “Tardy on the first day of school? That’s a bit much! At least wait till tomorrow!”

“Yep, you’re right.” Shangguan He opens his eyes. The carriage is half-empty now. A confident smirk curls his lips. “This time, I’m gonna enjoy high school life to the fullest.”

Miki, hearing this declaration, can’t help but tease. “Huh? You’re saying this now, second semester? Gotta butt in here—kinda late for a high school glow-up, no? At least wait for class reshuffling in sophomore year…”

“Shut it, Miki.”

Though he’s sworn off talking to girls, Miki’s an exception. Best friend characters are usually safe, right? …Probably?

Leaving the station, Yingcheng High is a few minutes’ walk. Shangguan He and Miki stride side by side. “By the way,” Miki says suddenly, “do teachers really check spring break homework?”

“Well… some questions answer themselves when you ask them.” Shangguan He knows she’s nervous but doesn’t rush to reply. “So, what do you think? Will they check?”

“What do I think? I think… probably not. I mean, at the start of school, they’re busy preparing lessons, teaching, grading classwork, making pop quizzes… With all that, how could they check every single homework assignment? Right?”

“Sounds like you’ve convinced yourself.” Shangguan He grins. “So, you didn’t stay up late cramming homework?”

“Laugh all you want!” Miki elbows him lightly, then sighs. “It’s not about cramming or not. Even a god couldn’t finish all that in one night!”

“Oh, so you didn’t do any?”

“No, I did.” Miki shakes her head. “But just a little…”

“A little?”

“I filled out the first ten pages of each assignment. Except for the first page, it’s all gibberish.” Miki’s expression turns resolute. “I’m betting on it!”

“Betting? On what?”

“I’m betting they only spot-check! And they won’t pick me! Even if they do, they’ll just skim the first few pages—not even seriously!” Miki looks smug, but then deflates like a punctured ball. “A-He, what’re my odds?”

“Ten out of ten!” Shangguan He nods confidently.

“YA☆DA☆ZE!” Miki strikes a victory pose.

“By the way, I don’t think they check spring break homework at all.” He continues, “They probably collect it, send it to the office, and it goes straight to the recycling bin.”

“Huh?” Miki’s face freezes. “Then why assign so much? Are they psychos?!”

“Not psychos. Think about it from another angle.” Shangguan He rolls his eyes. “Miki, what’s the point of vacation homework?”

“Do I even need to think?” Miki huffs. “It’s to drop a turd in my happy vacation!”

“…” Speechless, Shangguan He tries another tack. “What happens on the first day of school?”

“Pain?”

“…” He claps silently, then tries again. “What do teachers care about most?”

“Paychecks?”

“Good, close enough.” He gives a thumbs-up, pleased. “Now, what affects their paychecks?”

“Huh?” Miki racks her brain for a few seconds, then guesses, “Attendance?”

“That’s one factor.” Shangguan He sighs. “Generally, if students score well, teachers get bonuses. So, most teachers care about grades—it’s only natural. Vacation homework exists to keep students sharp over break, so their brains don’t turn to mush by the time school starts…”

“Haha!” Miki shrugs carelessly. “How would they know if my brain’s mush? Crack my skull open?”

“Haha, why do you think we have a big placement test on the first day?”

“Haha!” Miki laughs like it’s a great joke.

“Haha.” Shangguan He joins in for the vibe.

“Wait, so I’m screwed, aren’t I?” Miki’s smile vanishes, her mind clearer than ever, her tone flat with realization.

Shangguan He nods silently. “If your brain’s a blank slate right now, then yeah.”

“You jerk!” Miki, feeling betrayed, shakes his shoulders, on the verge of tears. “Why didn’t you say earlier?! If you had, last night I could’ve—!”

“Stayed up cramming every textbook from last semester into your brain?”

“—Slept soundly instead of wasting time on homework!” Miki’s eyes are crystal clear. “Wouldn’t that be better? Oh, and during the test, slip me some cheat notes, okay?”

“Guess whether my brain’s a blank slate too?”

Miki’s smile freezes, then she cautiously probes, “I pray it’s not…”

“Miki, which god are you praying to?”

“Uh, probably Jesus?”

“You know Nietzsche?”

“I know your mom…” Miki clutches her head, dodging reality. “I knew it—we’re both screwed!”

“Haha.” Shangguan He stops at the next corner, facing his friend with a bright smile. “First day of school—stay optimistic. Maybe something good’ll happen.”

“You mean we’re both doomed to the teacher’s remedial hell?”

“Well, for me, that’s not the worst thing. But before that—” He grabs Miki’s arm, stopping her. “Hold up, wait a sec.”

“?”