"I've been wondering for a long time: Did I choose this glorified trade school, or did it choose me? After much thought, I've reached a verdict." "It was me." "Even if an Ivy League degree isn't necessarily worse than a community college diploma, and a top-tier prep school isn't inferior to a vocational one... in the end, this place is the winner. I'm certain of it."
Reading those lines in a calm, rhythmic tone, Arisu Sakayanagi's expression turned peculiar—a mixture of curiosity and disdain. "What on earth is this person playing at?" she whispered. She couldn't quite process it.
The terms the author used to compare higher education sounded like they were pulled from a foreign system. Was this a diary from overseas? Or perhaps another reality? Arisu fell into silence. The book had manifested out of thin air that evening, drifting down like a stray leaf, visible only to her. Based on everything she knew, such a phenomenon was impossible to explain. Her father, standing right there in the room, hadn't even blinked; to him, she wasn't holding anything at all.
Just twenty-four hours before entering the Advanced Nurturing Academy, the inexplicable was unfolding. Arisu couldn't help but keep reading as the pages vibrated, new words appearing in real-time as if typed by a ghost:
"Anyway, if you're reading this, congratulations: you're a freshman at this high-end reformatory. Don't bother wondering how I know you. This diary is my 'cheat code.' I'm an interloper who gets rewarded just for writing. Your past, your present, and your future are my hostages now.
Want proof? Here's today's spoiler: In this school, there's more than one sociopath wearing a saint's mask. Specifically, a certain 'defective product' who destroyed her entire class in middle school. A soul rotted by insecurity, pretending to be the perfect girl while drowning in her own malice. If you want me to stop airing your dirty laundry, come find me. Let's play hide and seek."
The text came to a halt. A cold, synthetic voice echoed in her mind: "Daily reading complete. +1 Redemption Point."
"A game of hide and seek?" Sakayanagi closed the diary with a frigid smile. "How delightful. Challenge accepted. Let's consider this a little warm-up before I bury the 'fake genius' of the White Room."
Meanwhile, across the city, Asakusa Toru let out a sigh of satisfaction as he set down his pen.
At sixteen, Toru was what many would call a "transmigrator." Perhaps it was his obsession with books in his past life that allowed him to be reborn into this chaotic, multi-layered world. Unfortunately, he remained an orphan, but to him, that was a suit of platinum armor: without family ties, he was invincible to emotional blackmail.
After years of surviving through the wisdom of a grown man in a teenager's body, his "welcome gift" had finally arrived sixteen years late: The Diary.
Toru was no stranger to literary clichés. He knew that in most "magic diary" stories, the protagonists end up exposed or humiliated. That's why the moment he received his, he analyzed the rules first. His diary wasn't a scam; it was an elite tool with a clear algorithm: rewards depended on the entertainment value, the accuracy of the spoilers, and—most importantly—the emotional turmoil of his readers.
"Who in their right mind would keep an actual private diary these days?" Toru mocked, checking the notification on his mental HUD.
[Current Plotline: Advanced Nurturing Academy] [Today's Plot Momentum Index: B]
He had ditched his plan to get rich by plagiarizing novels. He had a much more ambitious goal now. He knew the readers were his future classmates because the system restricted distribution to "relevant characters" within the plot.
Provocation, insider info, and a declaration of war. Those were the strings he had just pulled. Toru knew exactly which buttons to push to make geniuses like Sakayanagi or "defective products" like Kushida lose their composure.
To hit the jackpot, he had to write the harshest truths at the most inconvenient times. And tomorrow, on the school bus to the Academy, the game would officially begin.