Chapter Thirty-Six: GAL-Game

Leaning against the tree beside the school building, Lancer once again looked helplessly at his ring, fervently hoping he had just suffered a bout of temporary insanity. Unfortunately, everything remained exactly as before.

“The Trial of the Game—though you live in the three-dimensional world, you are a denizen of the two-dimensional. You have earned the title of ‘The Strongest Otaku in the 3D World.’ Now, you have been challenged. To preserve your honor, you have no choice but to accept. The challenge: Conquer the affections of the transfer student from the Eleventh District who has suddenly appeared on campus. If her favorability exceeds ninety, the mission is complete—by any means necessary.”

He desperately wished this ordeal had never befallen him. Though the rewards were alluring, he couldn’t shake the foreboding sense that something dreadful would happen should he succeed.

“Oh well, whatever. According to the rules of these games, even if the affection is high enough, it doesn’t necessarily mean you end up together. I’ll just treat it as a simple approach mission.” Pulling out a white chocolate stick resembling a cigarette, he placed it in his mouth and stared vacantly at the sky. He suddenly realized how enchanting peace could be—no need to defend against sneak attacks, no more hunting monsters. Lost in this tranquility, Lancer unwittingly dozed off.

"Teacher! Teacher!" Suddenly, Lancer felt someone calling out to him.

"Hey there, Class Representative," he greeted, before bowing his head to resume sleeping.

"Teacher, this is your class period!" The girl looked at Lancer’s “I’m already dead” expression and was utterly exasperated. Since the subjects Lancer taught were not part of the major exams, students naturally bore him no grudge, and his lack of decorum and penchant for mischief made him rather popular with them.

"My class? What time is it now?" Lancer vaguely remembered his class being in the afternoon.

"It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, Teacher. You’ve been sleeping under this tree all morning." Seeing Lancer’s groggy expression, she realized she couldn’t muster any anger.

"Oh, is it afternoon already? Fine, let’s head up the stairs on the right." He yawned, leading the way.

"Auntie, do you have any bread left?"

...

"And milk?"

...

After swiping his card, Lancer led the way up to the third floor, arms laden with food. Along the way, whether teachers or students, all turned to look at him.

“How did this guy even get into this school?” This was the common sentiment among all the bespectacled male teachers.

“He’s a legend!” thought every boy.

“Even freshly woken, he’s still so handsome.” Thus sighed all the lovestruck admirers.

To teach here without being recognized, Lancer always wore a pair of plain glasses with no prescription, his bangs covering his eyes. His skin, pale from seldom venturing outdoors, made it impossible for anyone to associate this Lancer with the charismatic, wealthy prodigy seen on television, commanding the world with such flair.

He strode calmly to the classroom door, opened it, placed his food on the lectern, and sat on a chair, casting a stern glance across the room before announcing, “Self-study!” With that, he paid no further attention to the students he’d just intimidated and began to eat.

A crisp “ding!” suddenly rang in Lancer’s ear.

...

Lancer, who was about to resume gaming, suddenly noticed something and stiffly turned his head.

“Ah, haha, so you’re in this class too, Chihiro! Oh, right, there was a class reshuffling earlier.” In an instant, Lancer was nearly moved to tears. He had never found a way to subdue the teacher’s daughter without hurting her, and in trying not to injure her, he’d been defeated countless times.

He coughed. “Ahem. Class is starting now, that was just a joke. First, I’ll check your summer assignments. Everyone owes me a fifteen-hundred-word essay on ‘My Teacher’s Noble Bearing’—”

Just as he was about to boast as usual, a chill ran down his spine.

“Correction, it’s the report on various local myths. Has anyone completed theirs? According to our agreement, those who finish can reduce this year’s credit requirements.” When serious, Lancer could actually resemble a teacher, but as time passed, he ignored the murderous aura behind him and soon began to ramble again. “This summer, your teacher—” With the threat of impending doom at his back, Lancer managed to recount an abridged version of one of his adventures. He was met not with awe, but with the familiar “here we go again” expressions.

“Hey, I’m still your teacher! Can’t you believe me just once?” Lancer abandoned all pretense of standing at the lectern and began to complain about his students’ skeptical gazes.

“Teacher!” A boy raised his hand and stood.

Lancer nodded for him to speak.

“Teacher, you’re not that young anymore—could you say something more reasonable?” Though blunt, this was only possible because Lancer’s relationship with his students was so relaxed; no ordinary teacher would be addressed so familiarly.

“Honestly, kids these days are so precocious! I’m telling you exactly what’s appropriate for this stage! Now that you’re full-fledged middle schoolers, how can you not indulge in a bit of chuunibyo?” With a flourish, he stomped one foot on his chair.

At that moment, a terrifying sound echoed in from the hall.

“Mr. Lan, I believe I’ve told you not to act like this before?” A woman, seemingly in her forties, opened the classroom door. The metaphorical cross veins of anger on her forehead seemed about to cover her entire scalp.

“Uh…” Though Lancer outranked her both in status and level, when it came to an enraged, menopausal woman, reason counted for nothing. She’d already spoken with him several times about his open teaching style, and were it not for his “status,” she’d long since asked the principal to dismiss him.

“Director, you know I’ve always championed open and free teaching methods, and my results have proven their worth, haven’t they?” Although Lancer didn’t want to clash with the legendary angry woman, he still insisted on his right to teach as he saw fit.

“Fine, we’ll discuss your methods later. For now, I’m here about a transfer student. While you’re not the homeroom teacher, I think you can help this child integrate into the class.” Although she disapproved of his methods, she couldn’t deny the enviable rapport he had with students; that’s why she’d chosen to introduce the transfer student in his class.

“No problem. Well then, let’s have this mystery student come up.” Just as Lancer was settling into his usual banter, the ring’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Challenge officially begins. Initial favorability due to previous actions: 40—curiosity. Please complete the challenge in the shortest time possible.”

A girl, now dressed differently from before, walked into the classroom.

“Konnichiwa, sensei. Good afternoon, teacher.” Without raising her head, Keiko bowed to the teacher as was customary in Japan, only to realize mid-bow that she was in China and awkwardly tried to correct herself.

“Doumo,” Lancer replied naturally, then continued, “Since you’re an international student, following your customs, please come up to the front.” As soon as the mission was issued, Lancer began to strategize. He decided not to make any overt moves yet—he was no god, after all. He’d employ more ordinary methods and slowly raise her favorability.

Keiko didn’t think much of it—her first impression of this teacher wasn’t great, but he seemed like a good person.

Little did Lancer know, he’d already been unconsciously handed the “good guy” card.