Kuoh Academy stood imposingly amidst an idyllic setting, with its elegant and traditional buildings that seemed straight out of a Japanese dating sim. The trees surrounding the campus swayed lazily, and the iron gates were open, welcoming students in impeccable uniforms, carrying expressions ranging from boredom to obligation.
Kazuya, who had appeared in the alley and made his way with his hands in his pockets, was whistling an anime opening theme that only he would recognize. He walked as if he had no hurry at all, despite being a few minutes late, if one considered the entrance bell... But who cares? Heroes never arrive on time.
Nearing the main gate of Kuoh, he spotted two familiar figures. Sona Shitori, the student council president, impeccable as always, glasses adjusted, serious expression, and that aura of someone carrying the weight of a couple of infernal clans on her shoulders, and her loyal vice-president, Tsubaki Shinra, who seemed less rigid but no less sharp. The two were always there, as if they could prevent disasters just with their presence.
Kazuya raised a hand in a casual wave.
"Yo, esteemed president, vice-president. Nice day, huh?"
Sona adjusted her glasses, her clinical gaze assessing him from head to toe. If she suspected anything, she never let it show. But then again... who would suspect the new, good-looking student who seemed more concerned with hunting rare gacha figurines than anything else?
"Kazuya-san. You're arriving a bit late today."
He shrugged, smirking slightly.
"Technical issues with excessive coffee and bacon. You get it."
Tsubaki smiled faintly, and even Sona let out a brief sigh that might have been the demonic equivalent of a suppressed laugh.
"Don't forget that exams are coming up soon. I'm counting on your good performance," Sona added, in that professional tone that tried to sound intimidating but came off more like the beautiful anime teacher who secretly likes the protagonist.
"Got it, prez. I'll make it look good, promise."
He winked at both and continued down the main path of the school, ignoring curious glances and whispers. It was funny how, even two weeks after his transfer, people still didn't know whether to consider him a cool guy or a glitched character who fell into the wrong anime by mistake.
He walked to the main building, entering the familiar corridors. Students passed by, talking about the latest episodes of series, exams, and that strange incident in the neighboring district, probably another low-tier vampire or a fallen angel in disguise.
Kazuya stopped in front of the third-year classroom. He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, mentally preparing for another day of pretending to be just a normal student.
He pushed the door open with his shoulder, only to find, miraculously, that the teacher hadn't arrived yet. The students were already scattered in their seats, some chatting, others secretly playing on their phones, and a handful pretending to study. Honestly, that deserved an award for dedication to the art of deception.
Right in front, two figures were impossible to ignore. Rias Gremory, with that red hair that looked like it came straight out of an ultra-saturated anime filter, and Akeno Himejima, who... well, if the concept of "dangerous onee-san" were a person, it would be her. Both were in their seats, but the curious detail was that Rias's eyes immediately lifted and met his the moment the door opened.
Akeno smiled in that sweet way, with a hint of poison behind it, as always.
"Good morning, Kazuya-kun," she said, her voice smooth as silk and dangerous as a hidden blade.
"Yo, Himejima-san, Gremory-san," Kazuya greeted with the same ease as someone commenting on the weather. "You got here early today, huh?"
Rias tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered a smile that she must have rehearsed in the mirror for at least three days. "We always arrive early. You're the one who seems to have flexible hours."
"Oh, that's because I follow Tokyo-3's time zone." He winked, making Akeno let out a soft chuckle.
For a moment, Rias seemed to want to extend the conversation, but he was already turning, raising a hand in a lazy wave as he crossed the classroom to his usual seat.
He tossed his backpack on the floor and slumped into the chair with the lightness of someone who had already accepted that the morning would be just another session of carefully managed boredom. He leaned back, propped his chin on his hand, and shifted his gaze to the window.
The courtyard was calm. The morning light reflected off the leaves, shadows danced slowly, and at the main gate... there they were. Sona and Tsubaki. Still.
Kazuya furrowed his brow slightly. They should have been in their own classroom by now, and it was odd, even by the supernatural standards of this place, that they were still there, standing guard.
"Hmm," he muttered to himself, observing how the two were discreetly talking to someone beyond his field of vision, outside the school walls.
Curious.
But before he could consider getting up to take a closer look, the classroom door swung open forcefully, and the teacher entered with that aura of someone who didn't care whether the students were alive or dead as long as they didn't cause too much chaos.
"Good morning, class."
Kazuya let out a sigh, slumping back in his chair, his eyes still half-turned toward the window.
And so, the class began the way every good morning class should: with a tedious sequence of roll calls, announcements about exams no one wanted to take, and the faint murmur of the boldest students trying to nap discreetly behind open books. Kazuya stayed in "auto-present" mode, his gaze half-vague out the window, half-aware of the movement around him.
It continued like a lazy rhythm typical of Japanese schools, that sacred cycle of students pretending to pay attention, teachers pretending to believe them, and the inevitable pause for furtive glances at the clock. The math teacher, whose name Kazuya never bothered to memorize, spent the period dumping formulas that, honestly, would only be useful if someone were solving summoning equations to seal eighth-circle demons.
Kazuya, meanwhile, was taking notes. Not of math, of course. He was sketching ideas for fanart of a potential fusion between Nero Claudius and Rias Gremory, a brilliant idea, if he did say so himself. There was a good chance no one but him would ever see it, but it was comforting to have a side project to keep his sanity while the world pretended to be normal around him.
After two classes that felt more like filler episodes of a low-budget anime season, came the break, where Kazuya only bothered to get up to buy a can of iced coffee and a honey bread at the kiosk.
Unfortunately, the bell rang, calling everyone back to the dungeon disguised as a classroom. And then, she walked in.
Mizuno-sensei.
She adjusted the stack of papers on the desk, looking at the class.
"Good morning, class. I hope you're rested because today... assignment submission."
That combination of three words was enough to crush the room's morale faster than the death of the protagonist in the pilot episode.
Kazuya just clicked his tongue, pulled his backpack closer with his foot, and leaned back in his chair.
Rias, who had their assignment in hand since the start of class and who he suspected had reviewed it at least five times just to impress him, stood up and went to the teacher's desk to submit it.
Rias shot a discreet smile at Kazuya when she returned to her seat. He just gave her a casual thumbs-up.
The teacher then continued:
"While I grade the assignments, you'll do self-study. Use the time wisely."
Of course, "self-study" in practice was just institutional code for "do whatever you want as long as you don't bother me," which the class immediately understood. Phones appeared, notebooks became shields for sneaky naps, and the sound of hushed conversations spread through the room.
Kazuya promptly leaned back in his chair, resting his head on his arm and closing his eyes. He had learned from Musashi, mentally, because the Saber wasn't there to comment yet, that strategic naps were essential for warriors and gacha players.
The stack of papers dwindled as Mizuno-sensei called pairs to collect their graded assignments. As expected, most of the class did well or at least well enough to avoid summer remedial classes. The teacher, with that tone mixing disdain and functional obligation, announced:
"Congratulations to most of you. The results were satisfactory. Some pairs stood out, others... well, there's always the summer exam."
She chuckled at her own lame joke and continued distributing the papers.
When she reached Rias's desk, she placed the assignment on the redhead's table, who maintained her affable smile, as if it weren't the equivalent of a territorial battle to show who was in charge. Mizuno-sensei gave Kazuya a brief glance, as if trying to figure out if he even remembered the subject's content.
"You two got a perfect score. Well done."
"Thank you, sensei," Rias said with that rehearsed sweetness. Kazuya just nodded, slouched in his chair, with no interest in seeming more engaged than necessary.
The teacher then cleared her throat and announced:
"Now, new content. Start copying, because this will be on the exam in two weeks."
A collective wave of groans and resigned sighs swept through the room.
Kazuya, on the other hand, just grabbed his notebook, twirled his pen between his fingers, and started writing.
The class dragged on in its usual sluggish pace.
It was only in the last two periods that the door opened again.
This time, without the usual bang of grumpy teachers. Just the soft click and the muffled sound of feminine footsteps. Kazuya glanced up reflexively, already expecting it to be one of the monitors calling someone to the principal's office for getting caught cheating or watching waifus during class.
But no.
It was Sona, closely followed by Tsubaki. They looked... exhausted. Especially Sona. Even maintaining her usual cold demeanor and impeccable posture, there was a visible tiredness in her eyes, and the way she kept adjusting her glasses betrayed that it wasn't an ordinary day.
Kazuya noticed immediately. He recognized that look of someone who had spent too much time dealing with problems they didn't want to admit to the rest of the world. And considering the peculiar universe he'd stumbled into since setting foot in Kuoh, he had a good idea of where it came from.
Must have to do with her sister, he concluded mentally. It explained that "person" Sona was talking to earlier that he caught a glimpse of. If he reinforced his vision through Magecraft or amplified his draconic senses, he'd probably see a beautiful woman dressed as a magical girl...
Rias shot a discreet glance at the two, and Akeno raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, as if she already knew. Kazuya just lowered his gaze back to his notebook, feigning disinterest but keeping his ears sharp.
The two went straight to their seats, and Mizuno-sensei didn't even comment on their absence or tardiness. Probably because no one in their right mind would demand anything from the student council president without a good excuse.
Kazuya leaned back further in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, while the teacher dumped more content that would only make sense in an EX-rank Caster summoning ritual. He grabbed a coffee candy from his backpack and popped it in his mouth, letting the sweetness mask the bitter taste of boredom.
On the other hand, since Sona arrived, Rias seemed restless. Maybe because of the heavy atmosphere Sona's arrival brought or the way Kazuya remained oblivious to any of her attempts to start a conversation in the last few hours. Akeno, as always, observed everything with that enigmatic smile, like someone watching a play whose script she already knew by heart.
The rest of the class passed slowly. Kazuya mentally counted the minutes, like someone waiting for the release of a new gacha banner. He knew the bell wasn't far off, and with it, the end of the programmed torture called "high school disguised as infernal slice of life."
When the bell finally rang, echoing like a proclamation of temporary freedom, the entire room seemed to exhale the breath it had been holding since morning.
Kazuya grabbed his backpack with one hand and stood up in a fluid motion. He cast a brief glance at Sona, who still seemed lost in thought.
Definitely family issues, he concluded again.
Ignoring that, he continued and left the classroom calmly.
The corridor was buzzing with the daily pandemonium of students eager for freedom, like NPCs programmed to rush toward the exit as soon as the class cutscene ended.
He passed a group of girls discussing idols, dodged two boys playing a digital card mini-game on their phones, and was three steps from turning the corner when he heard the voice.
"Kazuya-kun!"
He'd recognize that tone anywhere. Sweet, polite, with a faint note of disguised insistence that most people wouldn't notice, but which he had already cataloged in his vast mental archive of "demonic waifu mannerisms."
Rias Gremory.
He stopped, turning on his heels with the most neutral expression in the world, as if he were just curious to see who was calling, though deep down he knew the moment the "-kun" slipped out.
Rias approached with her usual affable smile, that halfway point between the popular senpai and the kind anime onee-san. Her red hair gleamed under the late afternoon light, and her sky-blue eyes had that characteristic glint that said, "I'm sizing you up, but I'll pretend it's casual."
"Are you heading home now?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to invite you to stop by our club... you know, to chat a bit."
Kazuya kept his serene expression, though he knew full well this wasn't just a casual invitation. Oh, he knew the script. The school's heroine, beautiful and unattainable, calling the seemingly ordinary protagonist to a private place. If this were To Love-Ru, he'd already be tripping into some indecent situation. If it were DxD... well, technically it was, and she wanted to turn him into a demon, right?
"Sorry, Gremory-san," he said, offering an easy, slightly crooked smile. "I've got a prior commitment today."
She hid it well, but he caught the slight flicker in her gaze. A flash of surprise followed by a hint of disappointment before she recomposed her impeccable mask.
"I see," she replied, her voice still sweet. "Next time, then."
Before the situation could get more insistent, Akeno appeared behind her, silent as a ninja in a skirt and thigh-highs, with that eternal smile of someone who knew more than she let on.
"Oh? A commitment, Kazuya-kun?" Her voice was a caress that threatened to turn into provocation. "May I know with whom?"
He let out a low chuckle, tossing the empty can into the trash without even looking.
"Secret," he replied, winking at her before turning his back.
He left the two there, with Rias struggling to maintain her friendly expression and Akeno watching him go, her smile widening like someone who'd just watched a particularly good episode of Steins;Gate.
Kazuya continued his way, exiting through the school gate and facing the sky that was starting to tint orange. The breeze carried the scent of spring, and the voices of students faded into the air.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed.
"A meeting with the seductive demon club? Pass. I don't want to get involved with demons right now."
Setting that aside, he continued his walk calmly. He wanted to take a stroll through the city before heading home to deal with several troublesome Servants.
The muffled sound of his footsteps against the asphalt blended with the hum of the city starting to light up, as if the entire setting were preparing for another episode of a slice-of-life anime with supernatural elements that no one admitted was happening.
The orange sky began giving way to deep blue and purple hues, and as shops closed, some neon signs flickered to life. It wasn't Tokyo, but Kuoh had the odd charm of every Japanese city where, if you looked closely, there was always a suspicious temple, a shadowy alley, or a themed maid café that, honestly, charged way too much.
It's amazing how things happen to me, he thought, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket.
A bank app notification.
Deposit received: ¥10,000,000
He raised an eyebrow. Again.
"I didn't even bet on anything today..."
But then he remembered.
He'd found an old, seemingly worthless ring with no historical value in the school courtyard during the break. A ring that, minutes later, he discovered was worth over ten million yen in an online auction for cursed items.
Nothing new for someone with [Golden Rule: Rank EX].
It was more or less like having a permanent Konami code activated in real life. If there was a 0.001% chance of stumbling upon a suitcase full of unclaimed cash, he'd stumble. If a casino held an exclusive prize roulette for those with zero chance of winning... he'd walk out owning the casino.
Kazuya: 1, probability system: 0.
It was so absurd that even he, with his mental library stuffed with anime about unlucky protagonists, knew his luck had become a cosmic joke. Like that moment in Fate/Strange Fake when Gil won an absurd jackpot at the casino just because he felt like it. And guess who had inherited the blessing of the King of Heroes now?
Him.
Or at least a version enhanced by his chaotic luck.
Turning a corner, he heard the clinking of coins and, ahead, a young guy with dyed hair trying to shove an old arcade machine into a van.
"Hey, kid! Want this machine? Take it for free, I just want to get rid of it!"
Kazuya shrugged.
"If it comes with tokens included, I'm in."
Ten minutes later, there he was with an original 1992 Japan-limited-edition Street Fighter II arcade machine, valued at over twenty million yen for hardcore collectors.
Too chaotic even for me...
He kept walking after sending it to his [Inventory] as usual, obviously using his [Magecraft] to ensure the previous owner didn't know anything about the supernatural, casting a basic memory-wiping spell that every self-respecting mage knew.
While passing through the central plaza, a crowd gathered around a fountain where a wealthy woman argued with an arrogant investor about who had bought the last painting by a famous artist. A desperate auctioneer spotted Kazuya and, in an inexplicable (or very explicable, thanks to [Golden Rule]) impulse, pointed at him.
"This young man! Go, decide the bid!"
Kazuya clicked his tongue, pulled a coin from his pocket, and flipped it into the air.
"Heads or tails?"
The coin landed... on its edge.
Silence.
The woman fainted, the investor fell to his knees, and the painting, a priceless relic, was declared ownerless, automatically offered to the nearest citizen, who, guess what?
Of course.
Kazuya: 2, world logic: 0.
He sighed and kept walking.
Deep down, he knew this wasn't just luck. It was the [Golden Rule] mixed with that little detail: his personal luck was like a Fate character whose chaotic alignment leaned more toward "if it's bizarre and improbable, it's happening today."
But was he bothered? No, he was rich, so why should he care?
The night had barely begun. And Kazuya's inventory, both physical and virtual, already held more wealth than half the noble demonic families in the world.
The difference was that no one there had any idea.
And he intended to keep it that way.