I shut the door to my room and leaned against it, letting out a long exhale. The chaos of the living room faded, replaced by blessed silence.
The early afternoon light filtered through my half-drawn blinds, casting elongated shadows across the floor.
I crossed to the desk where Iâd placed Bartholomewâs terrarium. The immortal snail was methodically devouring a piece of lettuce, his tiny mouth working with relentless determination.
He seemed completely unbothered by the morningâs drama or my near-death experience with Braxton. The little gastropodâs single-minded focus was almost enviable.
"Well, Bartholomew," I said, tapping lightly on the glass, watching as he continued his meal without pause. "That went about as expected. Got my ass handed to me, established dominance over the pack through strategic humiliation, and made Natalia jealous enough to stake her claim publicly. All in all, a productive morning."
Bartholomew continued munching his lettuce, utterly unimpressed by my scheming. His indifference was somehow both insulting and refreshing. Here was the one entity in my life who couldnât be manipulated, couldnât be seduced, and couldnât care less about my grand designs. There was something pure about that.
"Youâre right," I agreed with his silent judgment, running a finger along the edge of his terrarium. "Action speaks louder than words. And itâs time for some significant action."
I sat on the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as my bruised muscles protested. Every inch of my body ached from Braxtonâs "lesson." I could still feel the phantom impact of his fists, the way heâd tossed me around like a rag doll.
I pulled up my status screen with a thought. The familiar blue light illuminated my face with its ethereal glow, casting my features in sharp relief against the shadows of my room. My eyes widened at what I saw.
SATORI NAKANO
Level: 1 | Schema Points: 524
Five hundred SPâfrom the quest to land a hit on Braxtonâplus twenty-four from Nataliaâs passive generation. The number glowed with promise, with potential. It was a validation of my approach, a sign that even in defeat, I was moving forward.
My queen was already paying dividends. I smiled at the thought of her, of how sheâd staked her claim so openly this morning. How perfectly sheâd fallen into the role Iâd designed for her. She was evolving from conquest to asset, from target to weapon.
I checked my stats. They hadnât moved, still hovering at values that made me dangerous to most normal students but laughably weak compared to someone like Braxton. The progress was there, but it was incremental, painfully slow. No point wasting this windfall on such meager improvements. Not when I could gamble for a kingdom.
I glanced at Bartholomew, who had paused his leafy feast to extend his eyestalks in my direction. In the dim light of my room, his tiny eyes seemed to glimmer with an almost knowing intelligence.
"Time to talk to the landlord, buddy. Letâs see whatâs for sale." I picked at a loose thread on my bedspread, mentally calculating my odds. "The question is, do I play it safe, or do I roll the dice?"
Bartholomewâs answer was to retract slightly into his shell before emerging again, a motion that looked almost like a shrug.
I closed my eyes, focusing my will. The room around me seemed to fade, the ambient sounds of the house growing distant as I concentrated. "Apolloâs Gacha Emporium."
The air in my room shimmered and warped, distorting like heat waves rising from summer pavement. Reality folded in on itself like origami paper being crumpled by an impatient child, the very fabric of space twisting in ways that hurt my eyes to follow.
A miniature tornado of golden sparkles materialized above my desk, spinning faster and faster until it collapsed into the floating, cross-legged form of Apolloâs chibi avatar.
"Well, well, well!" Apollo crooned, his perfect, miniature face splitting into a grin that was both adorable and deeply unsettling. His golden curls bounced as he bobbed in the air, his toga pristinely white against the backdrop of my cluttered room. "If it isnât my favorite tragedy-in-the-making! Howâs the academy treating you? Aside from the, you knowâ" He mimed a punching motion, complete with cartoony sound effects that somehow carried the full impact of Braxtonâs blows.
"Bam! Pow! Splat! That sparring match was
exquisite
. Nothing gets the ratings up like watching a protagonist get absolutely demolished! Very... character-building."
I crossed my arms, unimpressed by his theatrical display. The diminutive godâs mockery was becoming routine, a predictable preamble to our transactions. "Cut the crap, Apollo. Iâve got SP to burn. Whatâs the special today?"
Apolloâs tiny eyes gleamed with mischief, a swirl of cosmic energy dancing within his irises. He floated closer, invading my personal space with the confidence of a deity who knew I couldnât do a damn thing about it. His toga fluttered despite the lack of breeze in my room, defying physics in that casual way immortals loved to flaunt.
"Impatient, are we? I suppose thatâs to be expected from someone with your... ambitious timeline." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his finger making a sound like a tiny bell with each tap. "Fine. For you, my star performer, I have a
very
special, one-time-only offer."
He snapped his fingers, and the sound echoed with supernatural resonance. A new banner appeared on the Gacha interface that only I could see. It glittered with gold and platinum sparkles, sending shimmering reflections across my walls like underwater caustics. The sight was hypnotic, mesmerizing in a way that made my teeth ache with desire.
"Behold!" Apollo spread his tiny arms dramatically, his voice expanding to fill the room despite his diminutive size. "A âWelcome to the Academyâ rate-up banner! For the low, low price of
350 SP
, you get a five-pull where every single item is
GUARANTEED GOLD-TIER OR HIGHER!
" He spun in the air, trailing golden sparks that dissolved into nothing before they could touch any surface.
"Thatâs right! No bronze trash! No silver mediocrity! Only the good stuff!"