Tokyo: Who would still fall in love after being spoiled?

Chapter 6 Of course, Inoue has no history of mental illness
All the way from the restaurant to the dormitory, he stared at the task reminder and thought for a long time.

He was wondering - is it possible that this "Asakura Hotaru" is someone else besides "light novel author Asakura".

Finally, I gave up the idea, stopped hypnotizing myself, opened Line and sent a message.

[Inoue: I heard from the editor that Mr. Asakura wants to see me?]
He really wanted to ask, why would a girl be so passionate about pornographic content?
[Asakura: This weekend! No time?]
[Inoue: Saturday afternoon.]
It was even more chilling to think that this might be one of his future lovers.

But of course, from the moment he said those words to Amano in the stadium, the gears of fate had already begun to turn quietly.

Not to mention how big the butterfly effect will be, at least who he will date and who he will marry in the future should never be determined by the system - from that moment on, his destiny is back in his own hands.

He lay down at the table, copying a few pages of historical notes, while thinking about how to deal with Asakura Hotaru and the system task the next day.

Waiting for the exhaustion to wash over me and I fell asleep on the bed.

He doesn't set an alarm on weekends. When he wakes up, it's bright outside and the time on his phone is already 10 o'clock.

He washed and brushed his teeth, changed into casual clothes, and walked out onto the street.

I searched for the art stationery store I wanted to go to on Google Maps and squeezed onto the crowded train that was unique to Tokyo.

Strictly speaking, the only days on weekdays when traffic is incredibly congested are during the morning and evening rush hours.

But it’s different on weekends. There are many people who take advantage of their free time to have fun or work overtime, not to mention the huge number of students.

The traffic is always the same at any time.

He was holding the railing. In front of him was the back of a girl, probably a college student; behind him was the shoulder of a middle-aged man.

Every time the tram jolted, he was squeezed on both sides, like luncheon meat in a sandwich.

After buying the painting supplies, I found a ramen restaurant in the commercial street for lunch, walked into the tram station, and waited for the tram to arrive. The scene in the carriage was the same.

He couldn't stand it anymore.

"System, can you teleport me to the dormitory building? Teleportation service, can't you buy time for this?"

【none】

He is going to be angry.

"So what can these points buy instead of time?"

The system reacted slightly.

【Recommended products：】

[Badminton Skill (Lv. 1) – 970 points (This discount takes into account the host's current badminton proficiency and remaining points.)]

Useless!
He waved away the system page, hailed a taxi on the street, and rushed back to the boarding building.

It is called a boarding building, but to be more precise it is a boarding yard. There are three three-story long houses of the same style in the yard, forming a C shape.

In the middle was a flower bed, and facing the opening was a flag-raising platform. But perhaps because there was no Nakano School or student uniforms, he never saw any flag raised from the smooth flagpole.

From the opening side to the flower bed, the building on the right is the girls' dormitory.

He lived in the middle building, which had windows on both sides of the corridor. Occasionally at night, a boy would lie in front of the window facing the girls' dormitory and shout some incomprehensible confessions.

It is said that this is a game similar to Truth or Dare among this group of boys, and the loser gets to shout.

In the past year and a half, there had been cases where such confessions had actually been successful. However, in just over a year, there had only been one such person—and from that day on, that person was hailed as a love expert by the boys in the entire building.

admirable.

He held a sketchbook and a stack of fresh drawing paper tucked under his arm, and in his other hand was a handbag containing pencil cases for various brushes, pencil cases for pencils, charcoal sticks, and paper sticks, as well as acrylic paints and a palette.

In short, there was no room for either side to take anything, so we walked into the dormitory building.

In the entrance hall, a young girl was sitting upright on a bench at the side, holding a mobile phone in her hand, but she never looked at it. Her attention was always on the boys passing by the entrance and exit.

The group of boys living in the dormitory were so scared that they fled in all directions like birds and beasts. Anyone who wanted to go out slipped away as quickly as possible.

Needless to say, it was probably Mr. Asakura who wrote erotic novels.

It was another pretty girl who looked about the same age as him, but was only a few years older. It was truly strange. Next to the girl was a gift bag, and judging by the packaging, it probably contained a box of snowflake crisps.

He passed by and pretended not to see it for the time being, planning to say hello after he finished putting his things down and came down.

Unexpectedly, the manager in the management office window called out to him.

"Hey! Inoue!" he shouted, "Don't go yet, the girl has been waiting for you for a while."

I forgot to introduce him, but he's the administrator who loves to take advantage of students. He has a short mustache, forehead wrinkles, eyes that are often wide open so wide you can see the whites of them, short hair that sticks up like it's pricking you, a sallow complexion, and an air of being completely listless—even with his eyes wide open he doesn't look spirited, only sickly.

"Looking for me?" he answered pretentiously, turning around to look carefully at Asakura who was sitting on the bench.

The girl had shoulder-length hair and was dressed in a rather ordinary outfit—a white hooded sweatshirt, black wide-leg pants, white cotton socks, and sneakers. She wore no jewelry or makeup, and her features were clean and beautiful.

"Is it... Inoue-senpai?" Asakura also narrowed his eyes and stared at him for a long time. Suddenly realizing something, he clapped his hands in front of his chest, "Right! It's my fault. I should have recognized you earlier. You were clearly holding the painting supplies in your hands..."

"Asakura-sensei?"

"It's me, it's me!" Asakura stood up from the bench, jumped lightly, and walked in front of him. "Teacher, there's no need... high school student?"

"second grade."

"What a great painting... Before I came here, I thought Inoue-senpai was an old man, and I shouted to the administrator several times.

"Mr. Administrator! I'm sorry—"

Asakura kept talking and immediately shouted to the management office.

"It's just a small matter..." The administrator has different attitudes towards boys and girls.

"Oh, yes! Snowflake cookies for Inoue-senpai! My house is a dessert shop, and the ingredients are cheap, so please accept them."

He shrugged, indicating that he had no spare time.

"Let me help Inoue-senpai take it up! Where is Inoue-senpai's room?"

"No need to add 'senior'. This is the boys' dormitory, and according to the rules, girls are not allowed in."

trouble……

Even among the art exam candidates he had taught in his previous life, Asakura was the one who gave him a headache when he first met him.

"so……"

"Occasionally it's okay—" the man with a mustache drawled out his words, poked his head out of the management office window, looked at him and said.

Most likely, they are already calculating the benefits.

"It's just a matter of making one more trip." He wanted to refuse.

"Inoue-senpai, is there...something in the room that you don't want me to see?"

Asakura held the Snowflake Crisp gift box, squinting suspiciously, but soon understood. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Having adult posters in a boy's room isn't a big deal...Hasn't Inoue-senpai also read my book?"

"……No."

As Asakura accompanied him upstairs, he finally had the opportunity to initiate a conversation. He realized that he had to quickly regain control of the situation.

"Asakura."

"Ok?"

"A god asked me to invite you on a date this afternoon. If you agree, give me two million yen. I'm telling you now, and you'll get half of the deal."

"..."

Asakura, who had been extremely lively since they met, suddenly fell silent.

……

"Is it... another light novel illustrated by Inoue-san?"

(End of this chapter)