Arden looked up and was immediately stunned.
A cool, stunning beauty with long straight black hair—tall and slender, wearing a simple T-shirt and a flowing skirt, with black tights and ankle boots peeking out from beneath.
Mid-September in Bayside was still the tail end of summer.
Girls who dared to wear black tights and boots in this weather were bold.
The likely outcome was their feet would get sweaty after half a day.
However, the girl didn't emit any unpleasant odor. Instead, a faint, elegant fragrance drifted over, giving off a refined, untouchable feeling.
"What did you just say?" Arden asked.
There was nothing he could do—the girl was too beautiful, and his brain temporarily short-circuited.
"I said the computer you're about to buy is no good."
The girl pointed at the image on the tablet. "The brand markup is way too high. I'd suggest buying parts and building it yourself—you could save about thirty percent."
No, miss.
I'd rather pay that extra thirty percent! The brand markup is exactly what I want!
We're strangers meeting by chance—why are you immediately cutting off my income stream?
Arden complained internally, then smiled faintly. "It's fine. I just like this brand—has sentimental value. But thanks for the heads-up."
"Alright then. You could wait for back-to-school sales before buying. Should be soon, and you could save a few hundred bucks."
"...Uh, do we know each other? Why do you keep telling me to save money?"
"You're Arden West, and you're in my class."
"Ah!"
Arden slapped his forehead.
After a moment of silence, he asked, "What's your name again, classmate?"
School had been in session a month. The beautiful girl in his class remembered his name, but he didn't know hers.
Awkward. So awkward!
Fortunately, she didn't seem like the type of anime character who'd fly into a rage over being forgotten. Her expression remained calm as she said, "Imogen Blake."
"Got it."
"We're grouped together for the physics lab. We need to collaborate on the lab report for this class, so let's exchange numbers."
"Sure!"
Speaking of which, Evan had been racking his brain for days trying to figure out how to get Imogen's contact info in a fresh, natural, unpretentious way.
Who would've thought the first person in Room 510 to get it would be Arden!
Pretty amusing.
Actually, it really was nothing. In 2024, exchanging numbers had become perfectly normal, especially among college classmates. For group work, club activities, event payments, etc., it was super easy to add someone.
It was just that Evan had unrealistic romantic fantasies about girls, as if every step from initial meeting had to be adorned with pink bubbles.
Pretty funny.
No wonder classmates teasingly called him "Gatsby"—there was indeed a strange humor about him...
Arden thought about the dorm entertainment, casually opened his Instagram QR code, and handed it to Imogen to scan.
"Huh, I already added you?"
"Really? Why don't I remember? What's your profile pic?"
"A purple-haired anime girl."
"Ah, let me look... um..."
Both fell silent simultaneously.
Imogen clutched her phone, her long, delicate lashes trembling.
She looked at the simple emoji profile pic she'd just added that morning, then at Arden in front of her.
Even with her naturally cool poker face, she couldn't quite maintain composure. Her cheeks flushed, and her toes curled in her boots.
Worth noting that Arden had decent composure. He was first to break the awkward silence in such a tricky situation.
"No way, miss. Why are you using your real name online? It's 2024—you should have some anti-doxxing awareness, okay? Who uses their main account for boosting services?"
"I already said I never add clients on social media. You're the first." Imogen's tone carried a hint of resentment. "How was I supposed to know I'd get monthly-subscribed by a classmate?"
"..."
As soon as those words left her mouth, the entire atmosphere changed.
Became inexplicably ambiguous.
Arden quickly changed the subject: "Quick, make a burner account. If similar situations happen in the future, remember to use the burner."
"...Mm."
"Which part of the experiment are you handling later? Hands-on or data recording?"
"Recording data. My practical skills are average."
"Aren't you working for Professor Miller? How can your practical skills be average?"
"CS research generally doesn't require practical skills."
"I see."
Then the conversation went silent again.
Arden believed his EQ was fine—the problem lay with Imogen. Clearly, her true personality was showing when she worked as a gaming companion.
Cold exterior, actually a bit silly.
This was evident from her persistent advice about not buying the ROG brand...
Fortunately, the professor on the podium timely announced the start of lab.
The classroom quieted down.
They entered the boring segment of reading PowerPoints and reciting experiment precautions.
As everyone knows, a professor's lecture in college is torture.
No emotion, all technical.
With a heavy, strange regional accent, reciting convoluted physics terms—it sounded like some kind of eldritch summoning.
Imogen was still in an embarrassed state, but after listening to the professor's chant-like PowerPoint recitation for a while, drowsiness immediately washed over her.
She'd been severely sleep-deprived lately.
So Arden watched Imogen's head bob, and then she lowered her head and dozed off.
Just then, the professor, who'd been monotonously reading the slides, looked up and scanned the room, his sharp gaze landing on Arden and Imogen's table.
"Girl in the second-to-last row, stand up and answer a question!"
The professor tossed a piece of chalk that landed on the desk in front of Imogen with a crisp sound.
Imogen startled awake and stood up.
She stared blankly at the board.
"Briefly describe the precautions for measuring the Planck constant."
"..."
Arden poked Imogen's thigh under the table with his pen, flipped the lab manual to a certain page, and subtly slid it on the desk for her to see.
Imogen understood, glanced at the content from the corner of her eye, cleared her throat, and replied: "There are three main precautions. First..."
The professor nodded: "Very good. Your foundation is solid. Sit down. This course counts toward required credits, so everyone should take it seriously..."
Then he continued his chanting.
When the experiment intro ended and they moved into hands-on work, students were allowed to talk.
Imogen took the opportunity to say to Arden, "Thank you."
"No problem."
"You're really impressive. You can actually focus on such a boring lecture."
"...Actually, I wasn't really listening either. I just happened to know what the professor asked."
"Oh."
While the professor had been chanting, Arden had zoned out.
The system judged it as indulgence and rewarded him with $150.
It also activated the function to eliminate indulgence's negative effects, implanting the relevant physics lab knowledge into Arden's mind.
Not bad.
Now at least he wouldn't be lost doing experiments.
While other students were still fumbling around scratching their heads, Arden had already finished. Imogen recorded the data, and then the two would collaborate on completing the lab report later.
Pretty tedious.
No wonder every batch of upperclassmen complained frantically about this damn "Physics Lab."
But for Arden, it didn't matter.
As long as he ignored it, the system's power would make the lab report write itself.
Ah, System bro! Papa loves you!
So Arden and Imogen's group could leave class early.
Imogen breathed a sigh of relief, her gaze toward Arden filled with gratitude.
Not only had he prevented her from embarrassing herself in class, he'd also finished the experiment super quickly, saving her time.
This way, she could immediately head to Professor Miller's research lab to work.
But...
There was one more thing Imogen felt conflicted about.
In the hallway, Arden was about to slip away when Imogen called out from behind.
"Wait!"
"What's up?"
"I..." Imogen hesitated for a long time, then stammered quietly, "My gaming companion work..."
Arden couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Haha, no, miss. You don't think I'm the type who'd say, 'You wouldn't want your classmates knowing you're a gaming companion, Miss Blake,' would you?"
"..."
"Don't worry. I'm not some gossipy busybody spreading rumors. I'll definitely keep your secret—that's my professional integrity as a client."
"Thank you."
After a pause, Imogen still seemed uncertain: "Really?"
Arden complained helplessly: "Do you have to get on your knees and beg me to feel reassured? 'Please, please don't tell anyone—I'll do anything!'"
Perhaps amused by Arden's exaggerated tone, Imogen rarely showed a genuine smile.
At that moment, Arden finally understood why classmates said Imogen was a poker face who never smiled.
Not smiling was the right call. If she didn't smile, she wouldn't wreak havoc. This girl's smile was so captivating it should be illegal!
However, while Arden was temporarily incapacitated by her flashbang-level charm, Imogen keenly sensed something from him.
A kindred spirit!
Imogen wasn't entirely sure, but after interacting with Arden both online and offline, her impression of him was very positive.
So she decided to test the waters.
She hesitated slightly before speaking:
"What did you just say?"
"...Uh, I'll keep your secret."
"After that!"
"Huh?"
Arden was confused.
Imogen got a bit anxious. Her communication skills weren't great to begin with, and she immediately became flustered:
"That thing you said after—the reference, uh, isn't it from that anime, uh..."
Arden's eyes lit up, and he blurted out in Japanese accent, "Onegai?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Holy crap, you too?"
"Mm-hmm!!"