Following a prolonged block of chaotic interface parameters, the gaming sequence smoothly transited into the fourth round.
"Ah, the administrative privileges have shifted to my sector this time!"
Yuki Tachibana, her facial skin radiating a high-intensity crimson flush, hoisted the Joker card to command the room. Her visual tracking locked concurrently onto Satoru Gojo, who had extracted the Number 2 asset, and Hiromitsu Morofushi, who was holding Number 3.
"Kuno-kun... ah, negative, Number 2 and Number 3! Please guide our systems through your preferred specifications regarding female demographics!"
Gojo maintained clear archival files regarding this specific girl—the exact entity who had previously supplied the manual-assembly animal cookies.
To systematically extinguish any latent romantic optimization routines she might be running, he simply clamped down onto his straw, discharging a highly dismissive linguistic payload: "At a bare minimum, her close-quarters combat metrics must possess sufficient power to execute a definitive physical defeat against my personal chassis, copy?"
"..."
Jinpei Matsuda instantaneously atomized a mouthful of tea across the space: "What specific variety of diabolical demon is your processor attempting to source here!?"
Yuki Tachibana's ocular lenses filled with immediate liquid trauma: "Is... is the entry threshold genuinely pinned to such an extreme parameter?"
The absolute totality of the female units enclosed within the space locked into a synchronized processing freeze.
"Moving forward... what about Morofushi-kun?"
"As for my sector... my database lacks a rigid, crystalline blueprint." The cat-eyed youth scratched his cheek area with his knuckle: "Should my processing core be forced to output a baseline definition, I harbor a preference for an entity who projects gentleness paired with absolute cognitive tolerance—someone whose internal framework is as pure and unmitigated as the clear blue sky."
[Hahaha, Little Nozomi, is your search parameters calibrated for a romantic partner or a literal final raid boss?]
[My recommendation is to proactively submit an enrollment form for the World Martial Arts Tournament.]
[Hiromitsu, this specific architectural description is an absolute mirror image of your personal profile, alright! Ingesting a massive payload of self-pairing dynamics.]
[Waaah, my personal framework is likewise exceptionally pure (referencing my unmitigated lustful optimization loops), Little Hiro please pivot your sensors toward my coordinates!]
[I am composing a premium instructional text titled: "Advanced Methodology to Secure Lifelong Single Status via Pure Personal Talent".]
By the arrival of the seventh round, Furuya Rei successfully intercepted the Joker card to claim the Sovereign token.
"Mnn... Number 4 and Number 8, please execute a coordinated heart-gesture selfie for the registry?"
Jinpei Matsuda's upper limb trembled violently as he hoisted the Number 4 paper asset into the line of sight: "...Does the current timeline still authorize a structural retreat from this game, or has that window closed?"
"My vessel is registered under Number 8, you know~"
Gojo close-quarters migrated to his sector with a highly cheerful grin: "Little Matsuda, refrain from activating your bashful subroutines."
Furuya Rei let out a sigh saturated with deep administrative regret.
"Had my predictive models pinpointed that those two specific identities occupied those numbers, my system would have deployed significantly more malicious interactive demands."
Amidst the cataclysmic roaring prompts executed by the surrounding crowd, Matsuda downshifted his features into an absolute blackout expression. Forced to stand in geometric alignment with Satoru Gojo, his frame locked into an intensely rigid configuration as he hoisted his arm to organize a half-heart format.
"Negative, negative! The structural proximity must be optimized, close the gap!"
The female demographic registered an immediate verbal protest.
Gojo, acting with immense behavioral compliance, leaned his physical chassis aggressively toward Matsuda's perimeter, until their finger terminals finally achieved a forced convergence to finalize a complete, uninterrupted heart geometry.
Furuya Rei executed a rapid-shutter capture sequence via his mobile terminal, nodding his head with high-level gratification.
"Excellent execution. The visual output displays an unexpectedly high cute signature."
Jinpei Matsuda: "...Furuya Rei, your biological existence is officially slated for termination."
[Matsuda: Consciousness fully awakened; hunting protocols initiated.]
[Why is Little Nozomi's compliance parameter tracking at such an optimized level for this heart gesture hhhhh, mapping a pairing across you two introduces zero structural violations, correct?]
[Splendid! I am downloading this file immediately to deploy as a matching profile set with my intimate companion node wwww.]
By the finalization of the gaming block, the timeline had cleared twenty hundred hours. Matsuda spent the closing sequence aggressively pursuing Furuya to mandate the absolute deletion of the photographic artifact, achieving zero success metrics and leaving his curly hair strands practically radiating static frustration.
The collective cohort calculated that the mixer event had achieved its definitive endpoint; however, Kenji Hagiwara flashed a subtle, knowing smile: "Moving forward into the subsequent phase... let us transition to a Karaoke establishment!"
"Affirmative——!"
The girls responded with maximum vitality metrics.
The remaining elite units of the Onizuka Class felt their collective brows saturate with cold perspiration: "...Eh?"
The warm, amber illumination of the izakaya was systematically abandoned behind their vectors, replaced instantly by the flashing neon arrays and high-intensity sensory saturation characteristic of a premium commercial district.
Under Hagiwara's aggressive interpersonal manipulation, the six-man cell failed to execute an intermediate exit routine, tracking his trajectory straight toward the Karaoke venue.
Monitoring Hagiwara completely enveloped by a dense constellation of girls, his radiant smile looking indistinguishable from a peacock executing a maximum-display feather deployment, Matsuda delivered a dry critique: "That punk's internal gratification metrics are tracking at a remarkably unhinged level, aren't they?"
Gojo clasped both palms behind the rear quadrant of his skull, issuing a teasing prompt: "Is Little Matsuda's personal gratification tracking at a deficit?"
"What a ridiculous assertion! My presence is strictly a function of having zero critical tasks assigned to my processing queue today."
Right at that juncture, Morofushi's audio sensors intercepted an archaic, weathered vocal transmission drifting from a structural street corner: "My, my, does that not constitute the exact young gentleman who previously executed a fortune-draw routine on my behalf?"
Hagiwara was deeply engaged in deploying communication protocols with the girls adjacent to his frame, failing to register the auditory payload.
A senior masculine citizen sporting snow-white hair and a traditional head covering called out to halt the remaining members of the Onizuka cohort: "Pardon the intrusion, but are you gentlemen verified companions of that tall young man?"
"Affirmative, Elder. What specific anomaly requires processing?"
"During the prior timeline, my internal systems were under immense stress, preventing me from executing a proper appreciation protocol—please route a transmission to his terminal indicating that my profile registers profound gratitude for his actions! Not only did he physically hoist my vessel to the upper level, but he even funded the acquisition of a spiritual talisman on my behalf. Deepest appreciation extended!"
"The transmission shall be executed."
Wataru Date and Furuya Rei traded a rapid, intuitive glance: "So the underlying narrative actually tracked with empirical reality..."
Matsuda shrugged his shoulders: "Hagi has an absolute zero record of discharging fabrications of that category. Nevertheless, downshifting a senior grandfather node into a grandmother baseline within his report was clearly a calculated optimization trick to scale up his popularity metrics with the opposite sex."
[Hagiwara: Social manipulation functions as a casual secondary trade; assisting external citizens operates as an absolute hardcoded reflex.]
[The data point was actually verified ground truth! My system incorrectly logged Hagiwara under an error parameter.]
[As expected, Matsuda maintains the absolute apex comprehension matrix regarding his personal childhood companion hhhhh.]
Gojo bit down onto a fruit-flavored lollipop supplied courtesy of his surrounding handlers, his peripheral vision logging Hiromitsu Morofushi abruptly freezing his locomotive subroutines.
Tracking the line of sight—his sensors intercepted a juvenile female child sporting twin-tail braids, her dual palms securely clasped within the hands of her parental units as she discharged a clear, musical laughter sequence.
"That juvenile asset is..."
"Hiro, what specific calculations are stalling your processor? Should your vessel decline to resume locomotion, the main unit is going to leave your coordinates behind, you know?"
Furuya Rei executed a rearward pivot to issue a necessary behavioral reminder.
"Ah, negative, zero structural anomaly."
Hiromitsu Morofushi looked precisely like an asset emerging from a profound system reboot, spinning his chassis around to synchronize his stride with the collective group.
...
Inside the Karaoke private chamber, a high-velocity neon orb rotated continuously across the ceiling grid, swathing the six-man cell and the accompanying female demographics within a highly saturated field of shifting colors. The track-selection display panel listed a continuous stream of premium hit records, the ambient atmosphere infused with the savory aroma of potato chips and a minor concentration of ethanol vapors.
Kenji Hagiwara indisputably established absolute dominion over the microphone array tonight.
Wielding the audio hardware, his performance spectrum cleared everything from mainstream romantic ballads to high-intensity rock melodies, transiting smoothly from classic Showa-era golden hits to iconic anime themes—effectively monopolizing every single solo track and duet configuration on the queue. The female cohort clustered tightly around his coordinates, continuously adjusting their palms to match the rhythmic cadence or integrating their vocals to execute duets, the ambient energy matrix looking indistinguishable from a high-density compact concert.
"Hagiwara-kun, request clearance for an immediate encore track!"
"Zero structural violations~"
Hagiwara casually adjusted a few strands of stray hair framing his forehead, projecting the textbook aesthetic of a completely unrefined, suave romantic rogue: "The subsequent file... how does "Sudden Love Story" register across your preference matrices?"
"Excellent——!"
The interior of the private chamber exploded into an instantaneous roar of approval.
Jinpei Matsuda sank into the cushions of the sofa framework, discharging a low-amplitude complaint straight into Furuya's audio receptor: "Seriously, what specific temporal parameter limits that punk's vocal output? How long does he plan to maintain dominion over that microphone?"
Furuya Rei chuckled softly: "Why does your system decline to execute a physical intervention protocol to wrench the hardware away from his grasp?"
"My operational safety parameters bar that trajectory; the surrounding female demographic would deploy high-intensity glare subroutines to vaporize my chassis on the spot."
Seated atop a high-legged barstool anchored to a remote corner, the black-haired youth propped his jaw against a single palm, looking precisely like an asset who was deeply enjoying Hagiwara's vocal performance.
"By the way, Kuno, does your system decline to queue a vocal track?"
"Pass." Satoru Gojo projected an immensely profound, esoteric aura: "I fear that once your audio processors capture my vocal outputs, the lot of you will lack the strength to restrain your romantic infatuation with my person."
After all, excluding the minor parameter of his behavioral temperament, his core identity was engineered to be flawless across all categories—and his vocal performance matrix tracked at an absolute apex tier, you know.
"Bah! Your system is indisputably running an absolute deficit of musical tone comprehension!"
The instant Hagiwara finalized his current track, Wataru Date advanced with a booming laugh, delivering a heavy pat against Matsuda's shoulder blade: "Optimize your relaxation metrics! Step aside, step aside, the track engineered by my personal selection routine has cleared the queue!"
The display panel instantly refreshed to reveal a legendary, highly eccentric Japanese comedy track—one that explicitly mandated a synchronized three-man vocal deployment. The rhythmic cadence was immensely upbeat, yet the lyrical prose was thoroughly nonsensical, delivering an absolute pinnacle of comedic effect.
"Since our units have successfully organized a rare collective excursion, failing to deploy a highly entertaining performance violates our core social mandate, correct?"
"Wait a microsecond, Class Leader, refrain from dragging my physical frame into the matrix——Ow!"
Furuya Rei and Jinpei Matsuda found their vessels aggressively hauled straight to the front of the display panel by Date, leaving them with zero logical alternatives but to stiffen their jaws and open their mouths.
Matsuda's facial presentation mirrored an individual whose entire life cycle had encountered an absolute system collapse, while Furuya Rei desperately attempted to execute stabilization routines to maintain a cool profile. Date, conversely, completely discarded his behavioral constraints, integrating a sequence of highly exaggerated physical choreographies that provoked the absolute totality of the room into a state of unmitigated laughter.
[Matsuda the Sweetheart: In absolute empirical reality, can some entity please deploy a mechanical toolkit to completely disassemble this microphone asset?]
[Class Leader Date: This constitutes the authentic definition of an Onizuka Class collective team-building exercise! (What specific source is fueling this intense burning passion?)]
[Tooru-kun's facial performance distortion: Forced to fulfill a labor contract under protest.jpg]
[A Little Nozomi who targets a high-probability deficit in tone comprehension is bound to possess an immense volume of shared linguistic codes with a certain specific 'Conan'~]
-----------
100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter
10 Reviews = 1 Bonus chapter