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Karl stood at the entrance of Arasaka Academy.
With three minutes left before class, he had more than enough time.
After being scanned at the entrance to confirm his identity, Karl walked into the academy.
Despite the uniform being a suit, Karl moved easily, without feeling any restraint. It seemed specially designed for comfort.
It took him two minutes to reach his classroom. As he entered, Karl noticed over ten other people present. Judging by their faces, they were about his age. However, their unfamiliarity with the uniforms and their cautious behavior suggested that they were also there for experiential learning, just like him.
A class for special experiencers was expected.
Karl had no intention of mingling with the nervous crowd. Instead, he surveyed the 100-square-meter classroom and found his seat.
The classroom had four rows and five columns, totaling twenty lying access devices. Arasaka Academy's teaching method involved students lying down to access the system, similar to the BD system, for learning.
Lying down made accessing the system easier and prevented issues like headaches.
His seat was in the fourth row, fourth column.
That worked for him.
While other early arrivals were still examining the equipment, Karl lay down.
The soft backrest was quite comfortable.
Tick-tock.
It was 7:30.
"Good morning, students."
An AI projection appeared at the front of the classroom, resembling a bald woman.
'Is this the AI teacher of Arasaka Academy?' Karl thought, raising an eyebrow. As the AI teacher introduced the learning process, he sent messages to Oliver and Jack via a special communication channel.
Karl: I'm already lying down. This chair is pretty comfortable. Maybe we should buy a similar access device sometime. I wonder if Arasaka sells them.
Jack: How's it going? Are you getting along with your classmates? Is everything okay?
Karl: Getting along? The class just started, and everyone here is a trial student. I might check out other classrooms during the break to see if it's any different. I was hoping to be in the same room as the rich kids to get familiar with them, but that seems unlikely.
Oliver: Do you have enough time during breaks?
Karl: It's fine. We have a 20-minute break after every 40-minute class, plus a break at noon. This is easier than any school I've attended. I almost doubt if this is really an academy run by Arasaka Corporation... But maybe it's because the students here are all wealthy, so things are more relaxed?
Oliver: But I heard the Arasaka Academy's Academic Affairs Office encourages competition among students. Someone mentioned that at the end of internal competitions, there's a certificate of completion or something.
Karl: Maybe it's the encouragement of internal competition that makes it so easy.
The easier the schooling, the better, with more time for rest, which suits internal competition after class.
After all, these are children of the rich. It's ridiculous to think that learning in class alone could outdo others. More likely, paying extra to the Academic Affairs Office would get them the right materials to study during breaks.
Studying during breaks—quite ironic.
Lying on the device and chatting with Oliver and Jack, time passed quickly. Like the receptionist from the previous day, the AI teacher emphasized rules and regulations, turning the first 40 minutes of the class into a repetitive drill.
Quite perfunctory. Even if it was a trial class, he had paid for it. Spending 40 minutes going over rules felt excessive.
When the first 40 minutes ended, while other students were still memorizing the rules, Karl stepped off the lying equipment.
The AI teacher had vanished and wouldn't return for 20 minutes. That gave Karl enough time to check out other classes.
He wasn't worried about drawing attention with his behavior. As a street kid aspiring to climb the corporate ladder, a bit of carelessness fit the faculty's expectations.
A street dog eager to become a corporate employee but unable to handle a bit of studying.
Leaving the classroom, Karl avoided asking around directly. As a new student, he was likely under observation. Asking questions too soon would be conspicuous.
Instead, he muttered, "Where's the restroom?" as if he'd forgotten the route from the previous day. He walked toward a corner.
He heard light footsteps from the other side.
About two seconds away.
Karl adjusted his steps to slow down just enough to coincide with the approaching footsteps at the corner.
"Bang."
In the slight collision, Karl's perception slowed.
He saw who bumped into him—a girl with blue hair tied in a single ponytail.
A quick scan.
She had an okay appearance, patch-like prostheses on both cheeks, likely for unknown functions, and purple prosthetic eyes. Her expression was surprised.
Nothing particularly noteworthy, but she could be his first contact here.
As Karl considered this, he noticed another gaze during the slowed moment.
A boy with a black punk hairstyle had walked alongside the blue-haired girl around the corner.
He seemed ordinary, with only two prosthetic marks on his face. Yet, Karl sensed his gaze—a sign of good reflexes and excellent talent.
The slowed perception returned to normal. The blue-haired girl groaned and sat on the ground.
But Karl's eyes met the punk-haired boy's.
M
After a brief glance, the boy moved on, and Karl smiled, extending his hand to the girl on the ground.
"Sorry, are you okay?"
Karl's interest was piqued.
Interest in the talent of the boy who had just passed by.
Interesting.