It’s been more than a month since I last saw the faces of my classmates. Honestly, I barely even remember their names. It’s not because I’m cold or unfriendly—I just feel out of place because of the age gap between me and most of the freshmen.You see, I wasn’t able to enter university right after graduating high school. Poverty had its grip on my life, and I had no choice but to dive straight into the workforce. Years passed, and only recently did I get the opportunity to pursue my education here in Neo Silicon Valley. Getting accepted into a university in this city felt like a miracle—a one-in-a-million chance. Everyone dreams of living here, not just because of the ultra-advanced technology that’s ahead of its time, but also because of the endless opportunities that await those who manage to graduate from a school in this futuristic paradise.I turned my head left and right as I walked through the now-repaired streets. The city looked like it had already recovered. Life had returne

“It’s true that our high school life has come to an end,” Seiha began, standing confidently before the class, though her speech carried a slightly odd rhythm. “However! That doesn’t mean the spirit of youth burning inside our hearts has vanished. No, not at all! In fact, this moment and the days to follow are a golden opportunity—for you and for me—to make lots and lots of money!”There was a pause.“…Seiha, that’s not what the festival is about,” Itsuki, who stood beside me, raised his hand with a tired expression. “We’re supposed to make memories… not money.”“That’s right,” Yuto added with a small smile. “The memories, the feelings, the bonds we share—those are the things we’ll carry with us for the rest of our lives. For instance, picture this: you and me, strolling through the rows of colorful stalls, playing games, laughing,

Fina was walking home to the dormitory, her steps light but uncertain.As she made her way down the sidewalk, heads naturally turned in her direction, drawn by her ethereal beauty. She looked like an idol from a magazine or a television drama, perhaps even more striking than those glossy images. With her flowing hair, soft features, and graceful movements, she captivated everyone who passed by.But despite the constant attention she received, Fina never once dreamed of working in the entertainment industry.Deep down, she was a shy girl, reserved and modest.She disliked being photographed, often turning away from cameras at the last second. She didn’t care for trends or popularity. She preferred to be herself, to live quietly, unnoticed—though ironically, it was precisely that quiet authenticity and natural beauty that made her famous in the first place.Still, being beautiful was far from a blessing. There was a darker side to attenti

“Freshly cooked fried noodles here! Only three dollars a plate!”I shouted energetically as I flipped the sizzling noodles with both hands, a spatula in each hand. The aroma of garlic, soy sauce, and stir-fried vegetables wafted through the air, drawing people toward our booth. Beside me stood Ayumi, carefully adding condiments to each order with practiced grace.She scooped a generous portion of noodles onto a plate and handed it to the next customer, along with a polite smile and a bow.“Thank you! I hope you enjoy it!” she said cheerfully.The customer bowed in return before disappearing into the crowd.I leaned slightly toward Ayumi and whispered, “Are you sure it’s okay to give that much to each customer?”Ayumi glanced at me and smiled. “As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.”From a business perspective, I wasn’t convinced. Giving too much meant

Sion remained near the entrance of the subway station, her body tense, her eyes scanning every passing figure with suspicion. Minutes turned into what felt like hours. Something was wrong. The gunner hadn’t shown up. Not even a glimpse. It was as if she had vanished into thin air."I’ve been waiting here too long..." Sion muttered under her breath, her gaze never leaving the moving crowd beyond the steps.No sign of the shooter. No flicker of movement that hinted at a concealed weapon or someone stalking her from the shadows. The situation was starting to feel off. Was it possible... the gunner never followed her down into the subway? That would make sense, given this area had only one entrance and exit. A bottleneck. A trap if the tables turned.But if Sion had been the intended target, the assassin wouldn’t just let her go. Not unless something changed. Not unless... she was no longer the priority."Did she... give up on me?" Sion whispered, unsure whether to feel relieved or insult