Chapter 101: What Does This Have to Do with My 3,000 Yen Daily Wage?

“The hand of the African Conglomerate has already reached into the Judiciary! A Superpower User murders someone on the street and still gets bail? Where has the Spirit of the Rule of Law since Meiji Era gone?”

Sorry, not bail—just taken away directly. Your law, my laughter.

“None of the officials who signed the Special Security Cooperation are clean! All must step down, absolutely no room for compromise!”

Humorous.

“DRG, get out of Japan! This is just colonialism in the new era. Refuse all DRG products, reject all companies tied to DRG, boycott DRG!”

Are you serious?

Basically all of Japan’s manufacturing is partnered with us. Are you trying to de-industrialize?

“Identified. The criminal is Aoyama High School Class 2-A student Saori Saiyonji, attendance number 7—C.”

Damn, the box!

“The Ministry of Education should all commit seppuku in shame. How could a school produce such an anti-social beast!”

Right, right.

“[Breaking] Superpower privilege class exposed! Murderer released in 24 hours!”

Not even that slow.

“DRG’s dog (lol)—the company name itself is just a colonialist abbreviation, right? Africans have come to become the Supreme Ruler of Japan w.”

Yet it’s you Japanese who are running to Africa!

“Those trying to justify the dead as Extreme Path, wake up. No matter how much of a scumbag, judgment should be by law!”

Isn’t the problem that the trial never comes?

Parliamentarian’s statement: “Will propose the Special Punishment Law for Superpower Crimes. We can’t let citizens live in the fear of the Reiwa Shinsengumi anymore!”

Wasn’t there already the Provisional Administration Law?

But as always, your law, my laughter.

“We demand the release of DRG’s pressuring the Police recordings. We need the truth!”

Oh, it’s just a phone call with the Cabinet. Not as complicated as you think.

“Am I the only one focused on the killer’s looks? Darling, roast me quick.”

Uh… that’s really unnecessary.

“Stirring emotions can’t solve the issue. The current focus should be on drug distribution control, to nip these incidents in the bud.”

See anyone replying to you?

Within the phone screen, public opinion raged across major platforms.

Jiang Jian Yue stared for a long time, then opened Blue Bird.

Her account, due to frequently trash-talking the Emperor of Japan, had already been branded as “Non-national” and “Far-left Wing.” Some of her followers were just there to curse at her.

Others were chaos enthusiasts.

She retweeted a related news post with the caption: “What’s this got to do with my daily wage of 3,000 yen?”

Ah… So many little red dots. So satisfying~

The end-of-class bell rang, signaling lunchtime.

Jiang Jian Yue tossed her phone into her Storage Space, stood up, and headed to the School Supermarket to buy a Pineapple Bun.

As she descended the stairs, a group of students passed by, and Jiang Jian Yue overheard their whispers.

“Jiang Jian, isn’t she the President of the Supernatural Club? Could she be a Superpower User too?”

“Probably… these Monsters…”

Hmm?

Jiang Jian Yue had mentally prepared for student reactions like this. She’d already sensed the strange atmosphere upon arriving at school today.

But to gossip about someone this openly… Did they think she was deaf?

“Hey.”

Jiang Jian Yue gripped the stair railing, turning slightly.

“Not satisfied?”

The group exchanged uneasy glances but lacked the courage to confront her directly. They quickly lowered their heads and scurried away.

If it’s like this for me… What about Yuki Asahi and Kaori Onishi?

A ripple of unease stirred within Jiang Jian Yue. She hastened her steps toward the direction of Year 1, Class 3.

Reaching the first floor, she collided head-on with Yuki Asahi, who was rushing over.

“Senpai, you…”

Yuki Asahi quickly grabbed Jiang Jian Yue’s shoulder, deep worry swirling in his golden eyes.

Jiang Jian Yue relaxed a little—if he had the mind to worry about others, it meant she was probably fine.

She shook her head lightly, signaling him not to worry about her, then asked, “Kaori… Is she alright?”

“…She’s fine too.”

Yuki Asahi relaxed, tension fading from his shoulders.

“Everyone’s stronger than I thought.”

Can you move your hand off my shoulder before you talk?

Jiang Jian Yue glanced coldly at the hand resting on her shoulder.

Flustered, Yuki Asahi let go, lowering his head.

“Sorry.”

“Were you heading to the cafeteria?”

“Supermarket.”

“Shall we go together?”

The midday sun slanted through the corridor, casting long shadows.

Jiang Jian Yue and Yuki Asahi walked side by side, their footsteps echoing crisply.

Her ash-gray hair swayed softly with each step.

Yuki Asahi’s gaze seemed pulled by some force, maintaining a half-step’s distance—neither lagging nor crossing any invisible line.

Passing students’ eyes always shifted when they saw them—some with fear, others with dread.

Whispers arose, only to die abruptly as the pair passed by, leaving silence behind—a field of quiet, as if it were a skill.

Jiang Jian Yue could feel the stares gathering on her back again.

“Senpai.”

Jiang Jian Yue didn’t stop, just tilted her head to glance at him, her expression calm.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

She replied quietly, inviting him to continue.

Yuki Asahi looked at the light spilling from the supermarket’s open glass doors ahead, then just shook his head.

“…It’s nothing.”

Damn it, the kind of person who doesn’t finish what they want to say is the most annoying.

The supermarket’s chill swept over them, mingling the sweet scent of bread with ready-made bento.

Voices buzzed, but as they entered, it was as if someone pressed a mute button.

A dozen stares snapped to them—curious, wary, seeing them as something alien.

A few students picking snacks instinctively shrank behind the shelves.

The air felt frozen for an instant, broken only by deliberately loud conversations, as if to cover up the awkwardness.

Jiang Jian Yue pursed her lips, barely noticeable.

She could clearly hear words like “Supernatural Club,” “Monster,” and “Murderer” mixed into the conversations.

Walking straight to the cold storage, she heard a shrill voice from behind a shelf:

“That’s her, the President of the Supernatural Club—just like that murderer…”

Beside her, Yuki Asahi visibly bristled.

Jiang Jian Yue quickly raised a hand to his chest.

“Don’t.”

A simple command, but as effective as a trainer’s word to a dog, instantly calming him.

Yes, yes, good boy~

Jiang Jian Yue opened the cold storage, took out a Pineapple Bun and yogurt, and patted Yuki Asahi’s head with her other hand in reward.

Embarrassed, the boy hunched his shoulders, fumbling for a sandwich in the cold storage. Realizing it was fruit, he put it back and took a chicken one instead.

With their lunches in hand, the two walked the campus corridors in silence, unconsciously heading toward the flowerbed.

The traces of Yuki Asahi’s fall, when he was attacked by the blade bug host, and the crushed shrubs remained.

“Here.”

They sat by the flowerbed as before.

Few flowers bloomed inside—mostly evergreen plants, dark and lifeless against the winter background.

“Senpai really likes Pineapple Buns, huh.”

Yuki Asahi tried to make conversation.

Just being near Senpai felt comforting, but also left him wanting more.

He wanted to talk, to know her better.

“Hmm.”

Jiang Jian Yue’s mind was full of praise for Pineapple Buns, but her statement gauge hadn’t charged enough to express it.

“Why do you like them?”

Yuki Asahi felt dumb asking as soon as the words left his mouth.

But real-life conversations couldn’t be unsent, no matter how much he regretted it.

Jiang Jian Yue pursed her lips. She didn’t think it was a pointless question—when it came to things she liked, she could never feel that way.

“Tasty.”

Jiang Jian Yue paused, then added, “Cheap.”

Is it possible that even with a wealthy family, Senpai still considers food prices?

Yuki Asahi didn’t know Jiang Jian Yue was talking about her past life, when she loved Pineapple Buns for their cheapness and taste.

“Yuki, do you have anything you like to eat?”

Jiang Jian Yue recalled how Yuki Asahi had no appetite for Sichuan cuisine and asked.

Maybe next time she could make something more to his taste—and ask Kaori and the others, too.

An ordinary question, but to Yuki Asahi it had a different meaning: Senpai was actively showing concern for him!

“Uh… Nothing in particular.”

Yuki Asahi tried to calm his racing heart.

He’d always just eaten whatever was there.

“…I guess I prefer high-calorie foods.”

He remembered something from yesterday.

“And the strawberry milk at Senpai’s place was pretty good, too.”

“Can you tell me what brand it is?”

Yuki Asahi had some spare cash now and felt more confident.

Of course, he also figured milk wasn’t that expensive.

Could we not bring this up?

Jiang Jian Yue choked on her Pineapple Bun and had to gulp down some thick yogurt to recover.

But faced with Yuki Asahi’s innocent face, she couldn’t explain. If she said anything, things would get awkward between them!

“Custom-made. You can’t buy it.”

She deflected.

“I see…”

With the topic over, Yuki Asahi suddenly remembered Saori Saiyonji, still at Jiang Jian Yue’s apartment.

“How is Saiyonji-kun? From what I saw online… things aren’t looking good for him…”

Speaking of serious matters, Jiang Jian Yue composed herself and cleared her throat.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Now, most of the firepower is aimed at the Dawn Resources Group. Mentions of Saori Saiyonji are just side notes.

Most people online insulting Saori Saiyonji have seen information about the deceased and know that at worst, it was excessive self-defense.

But once these things get political, the spark that is Saori Saiyonji has to be crushed, too.

“As long as… he can endure.”

Jiang Jian Yue believed the Japanese government wouldn’t abandon cooperation with the Dawn Resources Group over this level of public opinion.

And Morita Aoya had already started working behind the scenes—picking out a few government officials for a private Marseille, and the matter would pass.

After all, the Dawn Resources Group had little business in Japan, so there weren’t any visible agents.