The final bell rang, echoing through the classroom.

Ryo slumped in his chair, letting out a long sigh. "Finally… it's over."

The semester had been brutal—endless lectures, piles of assignments, and sleepless nights cramming for exams. His brain felt fried, his body drained. But now, he had a break. A whole stretch of time with no professors breathing down his neck.

Still… a break didn't mean he could relax completely. His wallet was running on fumes.

"Ugh… where should I find a part-time job?" Ryo muttered, rubbing his forehead. Tuition fees had already taken most of his savings, and rent wasn't going to pay itself. If he didn't find work soon, he'd be stuck living off instant noodles again.

He groaned at the thought. "Guess I should start job hunting."

Ryo pulled out his smartphone, scrolling through job listings. His fingers moved fast across the screen—he needed something that paid decently but wouldn't trap him in a long-term contract. Just enough to survive until the next semester.

"Hey, Ryo! Wanna hang out?"

A familiar voice called out, casual and carefree.

Ryo glanced up. A group of classmates stood nearby, laughing among themselves. Before he could even think of a response, another voice chimed in, louder and dripping with mockery.

"Why the hell should we bring him? Guy's broke as hell."

Ryo's grip on his phone tightened. His jaw clenched.

He hated them.

Rich kids who never had to think about tuition or rent, who lived off their parents' money, spending their days partying while he scraped by, juggling school and survival. They didn't understand—never would.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to look away.

No point wasting energy on people like them.

For now, he had more important things to worry about.

Ryo ignored them, turning his focus back to his phone. No point wasting time on idiots.

He kept scrolling through job listings, but most were either too demanding or didn't pay enough to be worth the effort. Hours seemed to pass—or at least, it felt that way—until something caught his eye.

"Volunteers Needed – Paid Research Study!"

He clicked the link without hesitation.

The description was vague but promising. A nearby facility was running a clinical trial for a new drug designed to boost the immune system and prevent infectious diseases. They were looking for test subjects, and the best part? The compensation was generous.

Ryo leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen.

"Easy money… and I just have to take some medicine?"

Even with a hint of hesitation, Ryo couldn't ignore the appeal of the payment. His tuition fees were due soon, and his bills weren't going to wait. It was the kind of opportunity he couldn't afford to pass up.

Pushing aside the faint voice of caution in the back of his mind, he quickly filled out the online application and hit submit.

With a single click, his decision was sealed—though he had no idea just how much it would change his life.

Ryo slipped his phone back into his pocket and stretched his stiff shoulders before grabbing his bag. As he walked out of the classroom, he fished out his wallet, flipping it open to check his cash situation.

A quick count confirmed what he already feared.

"5,000 yen… or maybe less."

He let out a sigh.

"Another day of rice, an egg, and miso soup, huh…"

It had become his usual meal—a barebones survival plan to stretch his money as far as possible. Anything more filling? That was out of the question.

Slipping his wallet back into his pocket, Ryo mentally mapped out his usual route to the cheap grocery store.

Once inside, he grabbed a pack of eggs and a few packets of instant miso, keeping his selection minimal. His budget didn't allow for luxuries—just the essentials. After paying, he stepped out of the store, plastic bag in hand, and made his way home.

His destination? The rooftop penthouse—his own secluded haven high above the city streets.

It wasn't anything fancy, but it was quiet, spacious enough, and most importantly, private. The okujō-beya had become his personal retreat, a sanctuary where he could escape from everything and everyone. No noisy roommates, no family nagging him about his future, and no classmates looking down on him. Just peace.

The thought of a hot meal and some quiet time brought a faint smile to his face. He didn't have much, but at least he had a place to call his own.

Arriving at his building, Ryo unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The space was simple but familiar—his little world. A modest living area greeted him, with a worn but comfortable couch, a bed tucked neatly in the corner, and a small desk where his laptop sat. To the side was a compact bathroom, barely big enough for a shower and sink, and next to it, a narrow kitchenette, just enough for basic cooking.

It wasn't perfect, but it was home.

Ryo set down his groceries and let out a small breath. Time to whip up another simple meal.

As he cracked an egg into the pot, his thoughts drifted to his application. Now, all that was left was to wait for a response.

In the meantime, there was still work tomorrow—his usual dishwashing job. The pay wasn't great, and the work was mind-numbing, but at least it was enough to cover rent and keep him afloat.

His eyes wandered around his small apartment. Same old bed, same old couch, same old routine.

It wasn't much of a life.

But he was used to it.

Late nights, tired mornings, scraping by just enough to keep going.

Ryo let out a sigh and stirred the pot.

Another day, another cycle.

Days passed, and Ryo fell into his usual rhythm.

Mornings were the same—waking up early, pulling on his apron, and heading to the diner. With the semester break in full swing, he could work longer shifts now, which meant more money. Not much, but enough to chip away at rent and bills.

Then, one afternoon, just as he was finishing his shift, his phone buzzed.

Beep.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen—

An email from the research facility.

His heart skipped.

With a swipe, he opened the message. His eyes darted across the screen, scanning the words.

"You have been selected for the clinical trial."

Ryo exhaled.

It was real.

Excitement flickered in his chest, but so did something else—something more like unease.

Still, money was money. Tuition wouldn't pay itself, and he was already stretching his budget to its limits.

"Nothing to worry about," he muttered under his breath, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

A drug trial. A few weeks, some tests—then he'd walk out with a fat paycheck.

What could go wrong?

( End of Chapter )