"The lives of high school students in Japan sure are colorful."
Watching Shota Otani and Tanaka Kota already mingling effortlessly with the gyaru girls, Takashi couldn't help but think how easygoing their high school days seemed.
Unlike students back home, who were drowning in endless exams, never-ending classes, and a countdown to college entrance exams that loomed ever closer on the blackboard.
"Kitahara-kun, aren't you going to sing?"
Marin, having just finished a song, approached him proactively.
Takashi smiled and shook his head. "I don't know how to sing."
In truth, he could sing quite well.
In his past life, he had been a social media influencer—part beauty vlogger, part singer, and part e-commerce promoter.
Even though his major in university had nothing to do with the internet, everyone knew that what you studied in college often had no connection to what you ended up doing in life.
While he wouldn't claim to be a professional singer, he was certainly better than the average person.
The problem was, all the songs he knew were in Chinese—he didn't know any Japanese songs.
J-dramas weren't nearly as popular back home as K-dramas, their movies weren't as big as Hollywood's, and though anime was a successful cultural export, Takashi had never really been into it.
The only Japanese artist he could name was Kenshi Yonezu.
Back when his song Loser went viral, it had taken off even outside of Japan.
For a while, it seemed like everyone around him was listening to that track, so he naturally learned about him.
Not that it helped much—he used to keep accidentally calling him "Tianjin Monk" instead.
"I see~" Marin twirled a strand of coral-dyed hair around her finger, resting her chin on one hand.
"But your speaking voice is really nice—I thought you'd be great at singing, too."
"Where did you get that idea? A nice voice doesn't mean someone can sing."
Back in his gaming days, Takashi had known a girl whose voice was incredible.
She could switch effortlessly between sultry, cutesy, and girlish tones—whatever you wanted, she could deliver.
But when she sang… well.
Let's just say that apart from the first note being off-key, everything else was even worse.
It was like Zhang Fei and Li Kui riding a bicycle hand-in-hand across the desert… and the wheels were square.
His mouth was getting dry from all the talking, so he pulled down his mask, reached for a glass of orange juice nearby, and took a sip.
It wasn't until this moment that Marin truly saw his face clearly.
His high nose bridge formed a smooth, elegant curve from his forehead to the tip—like a finely sculpted mountain peak that perfectly complemented his deep, soulful eyes.
His lips were well-defined, naturally curved, and when he smiled just a little, they radiate warmth—like the gentle morning sunlight, drawing people in with effortless charm.
His long lashes cast soft shadows under the room's dim yellow lighting, making everything about his features appear even more delicate, refined.
"He's… really handsome."
Even Marin, who had never cared much about looks, found herself admitting that he was absurdly attractive.
His presence—both his demeanor and his appearance—was the kind that turned heads.
Like that one guy in school who always sat by the window, the one girl took detours just to catch a glimpse of.
Noticing Marin's gaze lingering on him, Takashi lifted his cup slightly, giving it a little shake.
Before Marin could respond, Natsumi Ohashi suddenly blurted out, "Kitahara-kun, you're so hot!"
Akari also seemed momentarily dazed after seeing his face clearly.
Even she hadn't expected Takashi to be this good-looking.
It completely exceeded her expectations.
"It's just an average face," Takashi said, humbly downplaying his looks with the slightest hint of arrogance.
"If that's 'average,' then what are we?" Shota Otani muttered.
"Absolutely hideous?" Tanaka Kota deadpanned.
"Kitahara-kun, do you have a girlfriend?" Natsumi Ohashi suddenly got up from her seat and sat down next to him.
If he didn't count his past life, then technically, he really didn't have a girlfriend.
"Eh~ Why not? Did you just break up? Are you still nursing a broken heart?"
Saki Takamiya chuckled and teased, "Why are you asking so many questions, Natsumi? Don't tell me you've got your eye on Kitahara-kun?"
"Why not? He's super handsome—it's completely normal to like him." Natsumi Ohashi spoke confidently, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Are you telling me no one at Aoba High likes Kitahara-kun?"
The moment she brought it up, Shota Otani's face twisted with jealousy.
"Of course people do! His shoe locker is stuffed with love letters every week—so full you wouldn't believe it."
Tanaka Kota practically ground his teeth.
"And every day, girls bring him homemade lunches. Last Valentine's Day, he got so many chocolates he still hasn't finished them."
Takashi visibly shuddered, raising a hand to stop them. "Enough. I don't want to go through that again."
Last Valentine's Day, he had received nearly ninety boxes of chocolates.
But the cost of returning the favors had been over 100,000 yen.
Had he known, he wouldn't have accepted that many chocolates in the first place.
But refusing after taking some? That felt kind of wrong, too.
"Hahaha! Serves you right for accepting them all!"
"You deserve it, you damn walking air conditioner!"
Tanaka Kota and Shota Otani gleefully mocked him, remembering how much money he had to spend on return gifts.
"So, Kitahara-kun, what about me?" Natsumi Ohashi pointed at herself, looking slightly shy—but not too shy.
As expected of a gyaru.
"Whoa~ Natsumi, you're bold." Saki Takamiya teased.
Tanaka Kota and Shota Otani immediately started chanting.
If anyone wanted Takashi to get a girlfriend, it was them.
If Takashi got into a relationship, then they would have a chance with Marin and Wakaba Watanabe.
Takashi knew exactly what they were thinking but didn't get it.
"Sorry, but I don't plan on dating until after graduation."
His gaze subtly swept over Natsumi Ohashi from head to toe.
Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show cleavage, and her ultra-short skirt barely covered anything—if she bent over slightly, he'd probably see her underwear.
He rejected her immediately.
He didn't care if other guys' girlfriends dressed like that to give their friends a show, but his own girlfriend?
Even if he were to find someone, it definitely wouldn't be someone like her.
And he sure as hell wasn't going to date anyone the system considered an "approved romance option."
He refused to be anyone's backup choice.
He wasn't lacking in any way—why shouldn't he deserve something better?
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Check out the other translations too: [Mash-Up: Anything For Money]