In fact, after the information is refreshed, they always want to attack me!

"Oh? If that won't work, then—" Before Shimizu Akira could finish speaking, she was abruptly interrupted.

"Hold hands under the table." She lowered her voice, her eyes quickly scanning the classmates who were playing around, her ears clenching even tighter. "It's recess now, if someone sees us... they'll misunderstand our relationship."

"..." Shimizu Akira watched her turn her face away, but secretly stretched her right hand under the table, and suddenly found it a little funny.

He cooperatively reached his hand under the desk, and when his fingertips touched her slightly cool knuckles in the shadows, he could clearly feel the almost imperceptible tremor in her fingertips.

"Is this alright now?" Horikita Suzune's voice came from above, carrying a hint of feigned composure.

"Hmm, not bad." Shimizu Akira suppressed a smile and gently took her hand. "Then I'll start counting—one."

His palm was slightly warmer than hers, and his fingertips had some calluses, but he didn't use any force; he just gently cupped her fingertips.

Horikita Suzune froze, about to pull her hand away, when she heard the other person count: "One, two, three..."

It turns out they really were counting down ten seconds.

She suddenly felt her cheeks getting hot.

Why do these ten seconds feel like they're lasting so long?

Chapter 140: 138 Female Imp--Sakayanagi Arisu

The school bell had just rung, and the classroom gradually became lively.

The two packed their bags and, as agreed, prepared to go to the student council together.

Sitting in his seat, Shimizu Akira seemed to suddenly remember something, turned to look at Horikita Suzune beside him, and casually asked, "If I can help you say a few words to your brother, or even ease the tension between you two, how do you plan to reward me?"

“If you can really do that…” Horikita Suzune nodded almost without hesitation, “I can shake your hand again.”

After saying that, as if she felt it wasn't enough, she added, "Ahem... Of course, it's not just about shaking hands. As long as you can improve my relationship with my brother... You can let me make any request you want, as long as it's not too outrageous, I can agree to it."

She was stunned as soon as she said it.

But looking into Shimizu Akira's eyes, there was a rare hint of expectation—she had always harbored such a deep longing for "a better relationship with her brother."

After all, Akira Shimizu and her brother have a really good relationship.

This was the first time in Horikita Suzune's life that she had ever seen a boy who was only two years younger than her brother and the same age as her, get along with him so naturally and intimately.

Shimizu Akira watched her turn her face away and couldn't help but laugh: "You said it yourself. Don't go back on your word later."

“I won’t go back on my word.” Horikita Suzune immediately turned back to retort, raising her chin slightly. “I’m a person of my word.”

"...Wait for me for about half an hour, I need to prepare." Horikita Suzune suddenly frowned, her voice carrying a slightly unnatural stiffness.

"Okay, go to the restroom. I'll wait for you in the classroom." Looking at her slightly tense profile, Shimizu Akira already knew the answer in his mind—she probably had an upset stomach again and needed to go to the restroom.

Come to think of it, she's been there at least three times today, including this one.

"!" Horikita Suzune turned her head sharply and glared at him, her eyes filled with a hint of embarrassment and annoyance at being seen through.

Sometimes she really wondered if Shimizu Akira had X-ray vision, otherwise how could he see through her every little thought?

What's even more infuriating is that he doesn't say it outright, but just looks at you with that "I know everything" look, and yet he always guesses it perfectly.

Luckily, I didn't plan to have a boyfriend during high school. Otherwise, if I were with someone like that, I wouldn't be able to hide what I was thinking and would be completely controlled by him.

"Remember to take some toilet paper." Seeing her stand up in a daze, Shimizu Akira added, "Oh, and when you get back to the dorm, throw away all those free ingredients right away, don't keep them."

"...Okay." Horikita Suzune responded almost subconsciously, only realizing after taking two steps that she had listened to him so readily this time.

She paused, turned back and gave him a quick glare before clutching the tissue and hurrying to the end of the corridor.

Akira Shimizu naturally caught that eye roll.

To be honest, his deskmate probably rolled his eyes at him more than five times that afternoon.

He was still thinking about "changing the future" when he took action at eight o'clock in the morning.

As a result, he received far more eye-rolls than he had expected that afternoon—the future seemed to be going much further off course than he had planned.

(I have a strange, bad feeling about this.)

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he immediately thought of what happened last month—Shiina Hiyori was supposed to find out his identity in May, and he had made a lot of preparations in advance to avoid that future.

Upon closer examination, this situation is remarkably similar to the last one: both instances involved proactive intervention to prevent a predetermined outcome.

(Could it be... that Steins;Gate is closing in?)

The more you try to change things, the more you feel like you're being pushed by an invisible force, drifting in an even more unpredictable direction.

In the end, we might gradually step into a timeline where the future is completely unshakeable.

But Akira Shimizu is not Rintaro Okabe after all—he doesn't have the identity of an observer, nor does he have a microwave oven with a D-Mail function.

If he were to encounter a future that is "unchangeable no matter what," he might not be able to struggle like that mad scientist.

However... even something as seemingly fixed as Class D's class points could be changed, from 0 to 530, which shows that information from the future can still be altered.

Maybe I think too much.

But just as he was thinking, his phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated a few times and gave him a series of message notifications.

New messages came in on both his main and secondary accounts. Shimizu Akira glanced at the screen and opened the chat window on his main account first—it was from Ichinose Honami.

Honami Ichinose: Shimizu-kun, I'm so sorry about lunchtime. Everyone was so enthusiastic, coming over to say hello, and I accidentally took up too much of your time.

Honami Ichinose: Let's find a quiet place to chat next time so we won't be disturbed.

Akira Shimizu tapped his fingertip on the screen and replied: Okay.

I received a reply almost immediately.

Honami Ichinose: How about we go to a coffee shop tomorrow? That doesn't seem like a good idea; coffee shops are probably crowded on weekends.

Honami Ichinose: Um... Please give me some time, let me think about whether there is a place that is private enough and where I won't be disturbed by anyone.

Looking at the line of hesitant text on the screen, Shimizu Akira could imagine the other person frowning slightly and thinking seriously.

He thought about it and realized he didn't have any plans for tomorrow, so he replied:

Akira Shimizu: It's fine if Ichinose-san decides. I'm free tomorrow.

Only after sending the message did he check the notification on his alternate account.

He doesn't usually use this account; he only uses it to hide his ten million points and buy information. He only has five friends at most—Yosuke Hirata and Kikyo Kushida from Class D, Sho Ryuen from Class C, Honami Ichinose from Class B, and Arisu Sakayanagi from Class A. They are all key figures in their respective classes who can hold their own.

The message was sent by Arisu Sakayanagi.

Sakayanagi Arisu: Hehe, yesterday I notified four classes all day long and made the information about the test papers public for free.

Sakayanagi Arisu: Oh dear, I'm so sorry—I accidentally ruined your business.

This student acted quickly; it seems both Class B and Class A have been notified.

Akira Shimizu guessed that the other party must have notified everyone by noon yesterday.

But that’s it!

Sakayanagi Arisu really took the opportunity to show off her arrogance!

So what if he forced her to pay three million for surveillance fees? Is it really worth holding such a grudge against him?

Yueqing: Oh? Really? Whatever makes you happy.

Sakayanagi Arisu: Not angry? I don't believe it! I bet you're just pretending to be nonchalant, but you're probably seething inside!

Chapter 141: 139 I plan to sell the exam papers for five million.

Sakayanagi Arisu sat in her seat in Class A, her fingertips lightly tapping her phone screen, a pleasant smile spreading across her lips.

Her logic is actually very simple: she would rather suffer a small loss herself than let her opponent have their way.

In her view, being able to thwart the other party's plan, even if she had to pay a price, would be a "huge profit".

Just like yesterday—she could have kept the exam information to herself and used it for personal gain, but instead she chose to release it to four classes for free.

Ultimately, it was all about sabotaging the other party's business.

The thought that the person might not be able to complete the deal made her let out a soft snort.

Yes, she won this round.

Even she herself didn't realize that, at some point, she had quietly come to regard the person behind the scenes as her rival.

Deep down, she was never entirely sure: was the rival she was going back and forth with really Shimizu Akira?

But one thing is certain: the other party is definitely using a smurf account.

Acting in a high-profile manner is too easy to expose.

(I'm still curious about his real identity, after all.)

(Don't people in other classes care about this?)

Since the other party had made transactions with all four classes, Sakayanagi Arisu didn't believe no one would investigate.

Especially Long Yuanxiang—that vindictive guy, how could he be so indifferent to who "rented out surveillance intelligence" after someone took 300 million of his personal points?

However, she is different from Long Yuanxiang.

She does care about the other person's identity and hates being schemed against in the dark, but more than that, she values ​​the game itself with the other person.

Like playing a game of chess, she enjoys the back-and-forth movement of the pieces more than trying to see her opponent's face.

Most people who play games frequently have this mentality.

So she decided to wait and see how things unfolded.

If no one else makes a move, then she will have no choice but to take action herself.

(Let's wait a few more days, no rush.)

The most important thing right now is to enjoy the feeling of being the "winner"—for example, by taking the opportunity to make a few sarcastic remarks to the other party.

Otherwise, wouldn't all the effort I put in this week have been wasted? After expending so many brain cells on planning, I should at least find some fun.

Sakayanagi Arisu's fingers tapped lightly on the screen, and the message was quickly sent:

Sakayanagi Arisu: What a shame. Looks like you won't earn a single point this month.

Sakayanagi Arisu: You can't sell the exam information at all—after all, these days, even if you give it away for free, nobody cares.

She gazed at the sky outside the window, a smile playing on her lips.

With all the first-grade students now in possession of the test information, this intelligence naturally became worthless.

Intelligence is such a strange thing: sometimes it can be priceless, driving people crazy; other times it can instantly depreciate, becoming worthless. And she just happened to press the switch that caused it to depreciate.

This feeling of being in control was more pleasurable to her than immediately discovering the other party's identity.

That kind of relaxation and satisfaction from the inside out is almost more pleasant than the feeling of slowly sipping a cup of coffee in an afternoon coffee shop and watching the sugar slowly dissolve in the cup.

Her smile reached her eyes—after all, it was a "victory" she had worked so hard for over a week, so this was naturally the result she deserved.

Yueqing: Really? By the way, you messaged me before saying you asked the teacher, but they wouldn't tell you the exam information? Is that information true?

Sakayanagi Arisu looked at the message on the screen, somewhat surprised—the other party hadn't responded to her earlier comment.

(Is this an admission of defeat?)

However, since the other party took the initiative to change the subject, she was in a good mood and slowly began to tap on the screen:

Sakayanagi Arisu: The teacher is a school official, so naturally he would not disclose the exam paper information, much less allow students to purchase it.

This kind of thing can only be done between students; otherwise, what's the point of the school setting up this special exam?

She didn't believe the other person hadn't thought of that.

To put it bluntly, exam papers are never something that can be put out in the open.

Just like the school never explicitly stated that the midterm exam would use old questions, these were all things that students figured out themselves through analysis, investigation, and asking seniors—it's more like an unspoken rule that everyone is aware of.

Teachers certainly wouldn't sell information related to exam papers; that would be tantamount to openly violating the rules, something even the school wouldn't dare to do.

What schools really test is never whether students can get the answers from the teachers.

Rather, it's the ability to think critically after discovering clues, the ability to negotiate with senior students, or the teamwork ability to make information public.

Asking the teacher for the answer directly? That's too naive.

She remembered what her father often said: Some things can be done behind the scenes, but it's a different story when they're brought into the open.

She was well aware of her father's way of doing things.

After sending the message, she tapped her knee lightly with her fingertips.