Kuroba Akira crossed his arms and gave the class rep a once-over.
Even if he was going to name his price, he first had to figure out whether what she needed him for was actually important.
"Let me ask first — how many people are currently in the Literature Club?"
The class rep held up three fingers, then added her pinky.
"Right now, including me, there are three members. If you join, we'll have four."
"Even if I join, that still doesn't solve the problem, does it? Clubs need a minimum of five members to be officially recognized, right?"
"Mm, that's true. But until the upperclassmen graduate, the Student Council won't come after us."
"When exactly are the third-years considered officially retired from their clubs?"
"You want to know how much time the Literature Club has left, don't you?"
"Yeah. Just trying to get a rough idea."
"Hmm... most third-years in other clubs retire around November. But since we're not participating in any competitions, our club's third-years usually stay on a bit longer. Even so, the absolute latest is the end of the second term. Once the third term starts, they're no longer considered active members. Actually, as I mentioned earlier, they're already in full-on exam prep mode and haven't been coming to the club anymore."
"So the new semester starts tomorrow... That means we've got about four months left until winter break."
That's plenty of time. As long as they recruited one more person before the end of the year, they'd hit the five-member minimum.
In other words, if Kuroba Akira joined now, he wouldn't be swooping in during some last-minute, life-or-death "save the club" crisis. At best, he'd just be doing a small favor.
And even if they couldn't find a fifth member before next year, the class rep could easily pull in a few warm bodies using her connections and reputation. All it took was a signature on a club application form — a trivial gesture.
"So let's say I join. Do you already have someone in mind for the fifth spot?"
"Not yet."
"Hmm..."
At this point, Akira had already decided to join the Literature Club. The question now was what he could get out of the deal.
Honestly, even if he didn't ask for anything in return, doing the class rep a favor wouldn't be a bad move.
Getting on her good side now was like investing in the future.
Being smart didn't guarantee wealth, but it did mean she'd keep improving.
And Anri Hitomi had a sharp sense for reading the room — she was great with people. She wasn't one of those high-grade, low-EQ types who could only bury their heads in books.
Someone like her — a top-tier communicator and a diligent student — would definitely make a name for herself one day.
Still... Kuroba Akira was hungry.
He wasn't about to let this plump sheep walk straight into his mouth and not take a bite.
"Class Rep, can I see your hand for a second?"
"Eh?"
"I want to read your palm. That'll help me decide what I want."
"You do fortune-telling too, Kuroba-kun?"
Akira lied without blinking.
"I dabble."
"I see..."
Anri was surprised, but also a little disappointed. Resorting to something as flaky as fortune-telling at a time like this — had she misjudged him?
High school girls were pretty into fortune-telling. Anri often joined in the conversations, chatting with classmates about lucky colors, lucky numbers, and quirky personality tests.
But deep down, she didn't believe in any of it. She just picked up the lingo so she'd have something to talk about.
The more she read those astrology and divination books, the more convinced she became — there was no such thing as predicting the future. It was all just suggestion and coincidence.
Her mother had once said that only fools pinned their hopes on things as empty and unreliable as luck. Gamblers bet everything on nonexistent fortune, and that's why they ended up as losers in life.
So whenever fortune-telling came up, Anri would chime in politely but never let the conversation turn toward her. She avoided being the one getting "read."
If someone paid attention, they'd notice: Anri had never once mentioned her lucky charm or her lucky color.
Because she didn't believe in that stuff.
And yet... here Akira was, asking something so ridiculous — and somehow, that only made him seem more interesting.
So this time, when faced with a surprisingly serious-looking Kuroba Akira, Anri broke her own rule. She extended her right hand, which had been holding down her skirt.
"All right, I'll leave it to you then, Kuroba-kun."
"Not your right hand. I need the left one."
"Oh... Here."
With Akira's firm tone leaving no room for argument, Anri also offered her left hand — the one that had been pressing the back of her skirt against her hips.
Akira cupped her hand in his and stared intently at it.
Anri was good at socializing, but she'd never had a boyfriend before. She'd never even held hands with a boy. Having one study her hand this closely — this was a first.
That little heart of hers, locked away in a box, was starting to burst out.
She'd been able to parry Akira's smooth talk without missing a beat just moments ago, even turned the tables a few times — but now, just having her hand held felt like someone had grabbed her weak point. She couldn't move a muscle.
Guess I'm not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought...
Are my palms sweating? What if they smell...?
"Um, Kuroba-kun, can I wipe my hand first?"
"No need. I can see clearly."
Akira replied without even glancing up.
He's so serious...
He actually seems kind of... professional?
Akira really was focused. He had to be — otherwise, he couldn't see a thing.
But it wasn't palm lines he was studying. He didn't know the first thing about fortune-telling.
The real reason he wanted to see her hand was because of his cheat.
Earlier, he'd seen the words [Academic Ability: A] glowing in the center of Anri's right palm — a mark of her high-level, versatile talent.
If there was something on the right hand, then there had to be something on the left too.
In fact, it was thanks to the writing on his own left palm that Akira had first discovered he wasn't some "abandoned child of fate" after all — that the gods had, in fact, granted him a tiny little cheat.
It was so unremarkable that he hadn't even noticed it when he first arrived in this world.
Other isekai protagonists got full-on systems — detailed character stats, flashy features, rotating superpowers, even chatty AIs they could shoot the breeze with. Akira didn't even get a floating status window.
This thing barely qualified as a cheat. Calling it a "system" was an insult to systems everywhere.
But Akira was still grateful for the gift.
Plain and unglamorous — but incredibly useful.
If the right palm revealed "talents," then the left palm revealed "effort."
By focusing, Akira could make the proficiency levels of various skills appear in the left palm.
Unlike talents, there could be multiple proficiencies. That's why he was inspecting so carefully.
And sure enough, a long list of skills surfaced, flickering in and out on Anri's left palm:
[Language Arts Lv1]
[History Lv1]
[Geography Lv1]
[Civics Lv1]
[Economics Lv1]
[Mathematics Lv1]
[Science Lv1]
[English Lv1]
[Piano Lv1]
[Go Lv1]
[Calligraphy Lv1]
[Art Lv1]
[Ikebana Lv1]
[Tea Ceremony Lv1]
[Ballet Lv1]
[Acting Lv1]
...
This is insane.
Not only had she dabbled in every academic subject, she'd also touched on traditional arts, music, dance — the whole works.
This was a true genius.
Mortals wouldn't understand.