Is This Dude trying to Humiliate me??

So here he does.....this kangaroo looking motherf*cker.

I leaned back against the desk, crossing my arms as Hiroshi's smug grin widened.

His ego filled the room, but I wasn't fazed—his taunts were nothing more than a pathetic attempt to throw me off.

He thought I was the same as Takuya, that he could break me down like he did before. But this time, he was in for a rude awakening.

"Me and Akikatsu have been friends for a long time. What do you mean by 'new'? You clearly don't know anything about us," I said, my voice steady, cool, but with enough bite to let him know I wasn't playing around.

Hiroshi leaned against the doorframe, his lips curling into that irritating smirk, trying to act like he was still in control. "Akikatsu must've been a loser just like you then," he sneered, his tone dripping with condescension.

He let out a mocking laugh, loud and obnoxious, as if throwing insults would somehow win him the day.

But I didn't flinch. I met his gaze, calm as ever. He had no idea what was coming.

"Right," I said, letting his insult hang in the air for a moment. "Because a 'loser' like Akikatsu, who's on top of everything, is totally the same as someone like you, right? The guy who takes charge, makes decisions, holds people accountable—yeah, sure, that's what losers do."

My voice was casual, but there was a razor-sharp edge underneath.

Hiroshi's smug expression faltered, just a little. He wasn't expecting that.

"You think just because you hooked up with Haruka behind my back that it makes you a winner?" I continued, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Let me spell it out for you: taking advantage of a situation doesn't make you smart or strong—it makes you pathetic. You think Akikatsu's a 'loser' because he actually values loyalty? Yeah, that's because he doesn't need to screw people over to prove himself."

Hiroshi's smirk faded, and I could see the tension creeping into his posture. He straightened up, trying to hold his ground, but his usual arrogance was starting to slip.

"Oh, please," Hiroshi shot back, his voice louder, but tinged with defensiveness.

"Haruka didn't want to be with a weakling like you. I just gave her what she really wanted—something you and Akikatsu wouldn't understand."

I smirked, shaking my head slowly. "And you think that makes you better than him? Better than us? Man, if you really think that banging Haruka makes you some kind of champion, you've seriously misunderstood the concept of winning. What you did wasn't strength—it was desperation. You saw an opening and took it, not because you were better, but because you're too insecure to compete with me any other way."

Hiroshi's expression tightened, his eyes flashing with irritation. He opened his mouth to reply, but I wasn't done.

"You love to act like you're the big shot, but let's be honest, Hiroshi—deep down, you're scared of people like Akikatsu. Guys who get respect through hard work and leadership, not sneaking behind someone's back. Yeah, Akikatsu's strict, he's got high expectations—but that's exactly why people look up to him. You? People tolerate you because they're afraid of what you'll do when they turn their backs. That's not power, that's fear. And fear doesn't last."

Hiroshi's smirk was completely gone now. His fists clenched at his sides, and I could see him struggling to maintain his composure. His usual bravado was slipping away fast.

"Akikatsu's no better than you," Hiroshi said, his voice lower but laced with frustration. "You're both just—"

"Just what?" I cut in, leaning forward slightly, voice steady but challenging.

"Just people who don't need to tear others down to feel good about themselves? You think Akikatsu's soft because he doesn't pull the same dirty tricks as you? News flash—he doesn't need to. The guy handles his business, keeps his head clear, and earns his respect. You, on the other hand, have to claw your way up by stepping on people. That's not strength, Hiroshi. That's weakness."

He glared at me, the anger clear in his eyes, but I could tell I had him cornered. He wanted to push back, to fire off some clever retort, but he had nothing. Not this time.

"You can keep pretending you're on top, but let's face it—people like you burn out fast. You might've pulled Haruka away from me, but that's only because you played dirty. And believe me, that kind of win never lasts. Akikatsu and I? We don't have to cheat to get what we want. You can take your 'fucking someone's girl like a retard' and wear it like a badge, but in the end, it just shows how low you'll go to feel relevant."

Hiroshi opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a frustrated grunt. He turned sharply, clearly furious, and stormed out of the room.

I leaned back again, smirking to myself as the door slammed behind him. "Well, that was fun," I muttered under my breath.

"I hope I rattled him enough to finally clean up that dump he calls an apartment," I said with a smirk, satisfaction

You might be thinking, 'Is this dude seriously trying to humiliate me right now?' Well, yeah, he was definitely trying. But guess what? I just flipped the script on him! After I wiped the floor with his pathetic attempts to bring me down, all I could do was smirk.

I mean, come on, did he really think he stood a chance against me? I guess some folks just don't know when to quit.

This chapter may be titled 'Is This Dude Seriously Trying to Humiliate Me Right Now?' but it's really just a reminder that sometimes, you've got to let the losers think they're winning for a while. HOHOHOHO! cough! cough! cough!

While Akikatsu was still off on his errand, I took the opportunity to organize my belongings in the room.

I glanced around, assessing the space and plotting out the most efficient way to set things up.

First, I pulled my clothes out of my suitcase, carefully folding them and placing them neatly in the drawers. It was surprising how satisfying it felt to create a sense of order in what could easily become chaos.

I made a mental note of where everything should go, ensuring that I'd be able to find things quickly when the inevitable rush of classes began.

Next, I moved on to my books and supplies.

I stacked the textbooks I had borrowed from Takuya, arranging them by subject on the small desk in the corner.

Each title represented a piece of knowledge I'd need to navigate this new world, and I wanted them within easy reach.

As I worked, I let my mind wander, considering how I could make this space truly mine.

Maybe I'd hang up some posters or add a few personal touches to really make it feel like home. For now, though, tidying up was my priority.

After all, a well-organized room can lead to a well-organized mind, and I needed every advantage I could get in this unfamiliar territory.

Good thing the room is really big hehe.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of organizing and daydreaming about potential room layouts, the door swung open, and Akikatsu walked in. He carried himself with an air of confidence, his dark red hair slightly tousled but still impeccably styled.

"Hey, looks like you've been busy," he remarked, glancing around the room with an approving nod. "Not bad for a first attempt at making this place feel like home."

I smirked, brushing a hand through my own hair as if to match his casual demeanor. "Just trying to make the best of the space. Gotta be ready for whatever chaos this semester throws at us, right?"

He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "True enough. You know, I didn't expect you to be so… organized. Thought I'd walk into a disaster zone."

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Well, appearances can be deceiving. I figured I should put some effort into it before the madness begins."

Akikatsu shrugged, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Just remember, we'll have each other's backs. College can be brutal if you're not careful."

His sincerity surprised me a bit, but I appreciated it. "I get that. Thanks, Akikatsu. Let's make sure we keep each other in check."

With that, the mood lightened again, and I gestured toward the pile of textbooks. "So, what do you say we dive into some studying? I'm curious to see how this place stacks up against my last school."

Akikatsu grinned, stepping fully into the room. "Sounds like a plan. Just don't expect me to go easy on you. I'm ready to challenge your genius."

As we settled in for a study session, I felt a wave of excitement wash over me. This was it—the beginning of a new adventure, and I was determined to make the most of it.

We didn't get a wink of sleep, but I hardly felt the effects of our late-night study session. Instead, I felt a rush of energy coursing through me, fueled by the excitement of everything I'd learned. It was an exhilarating feeling, like the thrill of a new adventure just waiting to unfold.

As morning light streamed through the window, I threw on my clothes and grabbed my bag, glancing over at Akikatsu, who was still poring over his notes. "You ready to tackle the day?" I asked, trying to keep my energy up.

He looked up, a tired but determined grin spreading across his face. "More than ready. I've got my Entrepreneurship class first, and I can't wait to see what they throw at us today."

I nodded, feeling a pang of anticipation for my own class. "I'll catch you later, then. Let's see how this Computer Science major compares to what I already know."

We split up in the hallway, each heading toward our respective classes. As I walked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of purpose. Sure, I might be running on fumes, but the adrenaline from our study session made it easy to push through. I had a lot to prove in this new world, and the knowledge I'd absorbed felt like my secret weapon.

The campus buzzed with energy as students filed into buildings, their chatter creating a lively atmosphere. I made my way to the Computer Science department, mentally preparing myself for whatever challenges lay ahead.

With each step, I felt more confident—this was just the beginning, and I was ready to dive into the heart of it all.

As I stepped into the classroom, I was immediately struck by the vastness of the space. It felt like a tech utopia! High ceilings towered above, and large windows flooded the room with natural light, creating an atmosphere that buzzed with potential.

Rows of sleek, modern computers lined the long tables, their screens flickering to life, almost as if they were as eager as I was for the day ahead.

I couldn't help but take in the layout—each workstation was equipped with comfortable ergonomic chairs, perfect for those marathon coding sessions.

The arrangement was clearly designed for collaboration, allowing students to swivel and engage in animated discussions without feeling cramped. I could already imagine the brainstorming sessions that would unfold, ideas bouncing off the walls like pinballs.

And the walls? They were adorned with posters showcasing groundbreaking technologies and coding languages, a constant source of inspiration.

A massive whiteboard dominated the front of the room, with markers lined up neatly on a shelf, ready for the professor to unleash a colorful barrage of knowledge. The anticipation was palpable.

I noticed a few students already huddled around their computers, deep in conversation about their projects. Their energy was infectious, filling the room with a creative buzz. I couldn't wait to dive into that chaos myself.

Choosing a seat in the back felt strategic. It gave me the perfect vantage point to observe the entire room and its dynamics while still keeping me in the action.

As I settled into my chair, a surge of excitement coursed through me.

With a deep breath, I prepared for the lecture to begin.

As the lesson began, I felt a mix of excitement and nostalgia wash over me. Sure, I already knew most of the material from my time at Cambridge University, but experiencing it again in this new world had a unique thrill. It was like flipping through an old favorite book; the characters and plotlines were familiar, but the context added fresh layers of meaning.

The professor kicked off with the basics, laying out foundational concepts in a way that felt both engaging and clear.

I listened intently, knowing I could probably ace the material with my eyes closed. But in this isekai world, there was something refreshing about revisiting these ideas.

Maybe it was the fact that I was in Takuya's body, trying to navigate his life while still holding onto my own knowledge.

I couldn't help but think how odd it was to be sitting in a classroom, learning the same things I once did, but now through the lens of this new reality.

As the lecture progressed, I found myself absorbing everything with a renewed sense of purpose. The way the professor explained certain algorithms and coding techniques sparked my curiosity even further.

I began to think about how I could apply these principles not just in class projects but in the context of Takuya's life. What innovations could I introduce here? How could I stand out in this world where I was still figuring out my place?

The students around me were a mix of expressions—some were furrowing their brows in concentration, while others eagerly scribbled down notes.

I was tempted to jump in and share my thoughts, but I decided to observe for now, gauging the dynamics of the room.

After all, it was crucial to adapt to this new social landscape while still keeping my edge.

Every now and then, the professor would pose a question to the class, prompting a lively discussion.

I found myself silently cheering on my classmates, excited to see who would step up and how they would tackle the challenges.

I couldn't shake the feeling that, even though I was in someone else's body, my insights could still shine through. This was an opportunity to make an impact, to blend my past experiences with Takuya's potential.

By the end of the session, I felt invigorated. This was more than just a review; it was a chance to refresh my knowledge while igniting my passion for the subject all over again. As the class wrapped up, students began to pack their things.

As I stepped out of the classroom, the buzz of students moving between classes faded into the background, and my attention was suddenly caught by a familiar figure. There he was—the blue-haired guy from four days ago, looking even worse than I remembered.

"What the…"

I thought, barely suppressing a smirk at the unfortunate turn his life had taken.

He stood there, slouched and defeated, with his once-vibrant red eyes now dull and tired.

This was the same guy who had endlessly lamented about his girlfriend cheating on him, who had asked, "Can you imagine?" as if the mere act of imagining his situation could somehow alleviate his pain.

Now, his eyes bore the weight of sleepless nights and relentless despair, resembling a stormy sea turned calm only by exhaustion.

What a shift, I mused.

Just a few days ago, he had an air of seductive charm about him, but that had all but vanished.

I couldn't help but psychoanalyze him, peeling back the layers of his exterior like an onion. What was going on in that head of his? What dark corners of his mind had he retreated to since I last saw him?

The way he stood spoke volumes—his shoulders hunched, as if the burden of the world was pressing down on him.

There was a vulnerability in his demeanor, one that made him look almost fragile.

Had he given up?

Was he resigned to the fact that life had dealt him a bad hand?

I found myself feeling a strange mix of pity and intrigue.

He had a handsome face, and that wouldn't change, but it was now marred by an expression that screamed defeat.

What kind of emotional turmoil must he be going through?

Was he drowning in regret, replaying the scenes of betrayal in his mind over and over? Or perhaps he was spiraling into self-loathing, questioning every decision he had ever made?

The seductive eyes that once held promise now looked sleepy and vacant, as if they had seen too much and felt too little.

It was disheartening, really, to witness someone so clearly tormented by their circumstances.

Was this just a phase, or would he allow this heartbreak to define him?

I couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was pivotal for him.

Would he rise from this? Or would he continue to wallow in self-pity?

I recalled how he had expressed his feelings with such raw honesty, the way he had thrown out his vulnerability like a lifeline. But now?

It seemed that lifeline had been severed, and he was left adrift in a sea of his own despair.

What could I do? I wasn't his therapist, nor did I owe him anything.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if a simple act of kindness, or a few words of encouragement, could shift his perspective.

But then again, maybe he needed to hit rock bottom before he could find the motivation to claw his way back up.

As he turned away, I found myself watching him for a moment longer, contemplating the complexity of human emotions and the fragility of the human spirit.

It made me realize that everyone carries their own burdens—some more visible than others.

As I walked away from the blue-haired guy, I couldn't help but feel a curious pull toward him, a desire to understand the complexities of his situation more deeply.

Stalking, in a sense, wasn't always a negative term.

Sometimes, it simply meant observing from the sidelines, trying to piece together the fragments of someone's story.

After all, what harm could come from watching? I had my reasons: a mix of intrigue, concern, and the compelling need to unravel the puzzle that was this handsome, tortured soul.

It was a bit like a social experiment, really—a way to analyze human behavior up close.

I could gather insights not just for myself, but also for the new life I was trying to navigate.

As I turned the corner, I kept a casual pace, ensuring I wasn't being too obvious.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed him leaning against a wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, almost as if he were trying to shield himself from the world.

The way he stood spoke volumes; there was a sadness in his posture that mirrored the chaos brewing inside him.

What had brought him to this point? I found myself mulling over the intricacies of his relationships. The girlfriend who had left him for another man—she must have held significant power over him, and the betrayal had clearly shaken him to his core.

I studied his interactions with the other students, observing how they seemed to avoid him, their laughter fading when he approached.

Did they recognize the pain in his eyes? Or were they just oblivious, too caught up in their own lives?

I felt a strange sense of empathy for him.

Sure, stalking might sound creepy, but sometimes, the simplest observations could lead to profound realizations.

There was a lesson hidden in his despair, one that I could learn from as I navigated my own challenges in this unfamiliar life.

As he pushed off the wall and started to walk away, I instinctively followed at a distance, keeping my pace casual.

As I kept my distance, something unexpected caught my eye. Words began to materialize on the wall beside me, scrawled in an elegant script, as if someone had taken the time to etch them into the concrete.

Overcoming the sharp pain in the heart, Carlos must help this depressed handsome man.

The script disappears.

This mofo... so this is the first challenge?

I chuckled and approach the blue haired dude.

The embodiment of sorrow wrapped in a blanket of blue hair, I couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of someone lost in their thoughts—his posture slumped and his eyes clouded with a mixture of fatigue and defeat.

This guy looked like he'd walked straight out of a melancholic novel.

"Hey there,"

I said, casually sliding into his space as if we were old friends.

"I couldn't help but notice you seem like you've just been through a plot twist in a tragic romance. I'm Takuya. What's your name?"

His eyes darted up, a flicker of surprise cutting through his gloomy demeanor. "Nio," he mumbled, barely above a whisper.

"Nio! Nice name. Definitely has that mysterious vibe," I said, leaning against the wall with an air of casual confidence.

"So, what's got you looking like the main character in a sad indie film? I've got a feeling there's more to the story than just 'nothing.'"

Nio shifted uneasily, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" I echoed, cocking an eyebrow.

"That sounds like a classic cover-up. You know, it's funny how people often disguise their struggles with 'nothing.' Your body language is practically broadcasting your inner turmoil. What's really going on? Spill the beans."

He hesitated, looking like he was debating whether to confide in me. "It's just… my girlfriend left me for someone else. It's like everything I put my heart into is just… gone."

"Ah, the classic heartbreak trope," I said, nodding as if I were critiquing a film script....Watch out author of this web novel Irratio- kidding....

"Must be tough watching your hard work and dedication slip away like that. But here's a little thought experiment: what if this pain is actually a catalyst for something greater? What if you could flip the script and make this setback your jumping-off point?"

Nio frowned, confusion knitting his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Look, life is basically a series of plot twists and character arcs. You're at a turning point right now. You can either stew in self-pity or transform this setback into something powerful. It's like a video game—you've hit a rough level, but that just means you're about to unlock a new ability!"

He looked skeptical. "I don't even have a plan for that."

"Perfect! Plans are overrated anyway," I declared, my enthusiasm bubbling over. "Not having a plan is your canvas. You've got artistic talent—use it! Draw, write, create! Turn that pain into something tangible. It's not just cathartic; it's liberating. You have the power to reshape your narrative."

Nio's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but there was a spark of intrigue as he listened.

"But what if it doesn't work?"

"Ah, but what if it does?"

I countered, leaning in slightly, as if sharing a secret revelation.

"You have a unique voice, Nio. Embrace it! Instead of letting the world dictate your feelings, let your experiences fuel your creativity. Show everyone, including yourself, that you're not broken; you're evolving."

He took a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating.

"Maybe… I could try that."

"Yes! Now we're onto something!" I exclaimed, feeling a rush of excitement.

"You've got a narrative just waiting to unfold. I'll be your sounding board. We can brainstorm together! Think of it as an epic quest for self-discovery, with a potential redemption arc."

"Okay," he said, determination threading its way into his voice.

"I'll give it a shot. Thanks, Takuya."

"Anytime!" I replied, a surge of satisfaction washing over me. I'd managed to guide him toward a more positive mindset, and the thrill of overcoming that initial barrier felt exhilarating.

But just as I was about to pat myself on the back, a flicker of doubt crossed my mind.

What if he took my advice, but it didn't lead anywhere?

What if he spiraled deeper into despair?

A little voice in my head warned me to tread carefully.

I pivoted slightly, adopting a more serious tone.

"Just remember, Nio, it's okay to stumble along the way. Not every step will be perfect, and it's completely normal to have setbacks. What matters is that you keep moving forward, no matter how small those steps may be."

He nodded slowly, digesting my words.

"Yeah, I get that."

"Good! Because I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together now,"

I added, my tone lightening again. 

"And if you need someone to kick you in the pants to keep you going, I can do that too!"

As Nio chuckled, I felt a sense of camaraderie beginning to form.

We exchanged contacts and part ways.

So, what's my next plan? It's time to uncover the mystery behind Nio's ex-girlfriend. I've got a strategy brewing in the back of my mind, one that involves a little reconnaissance and some clever persuasion. Tomorrow, I'll hit the ground running, gathering intel on this enigmatic figure who managed to capture Nio's heart before shattering it....

This is gonna be fun....

TO BE CONTINUED.....