August 22 (Thursday)
12:20 PM
KSU Morong Campus
Twenty-one kilometers away, in a completely different academic server, a different kind of lunch break was happening.
The environment was vastly different from the open-air covered courts of Taytay. Here in Morong, the midday sun baked the concrete pathways, but the sprawling trees offered thick patches of shade.
Jessa, Janna, Dana, Mina, Leslie, and Shelly were all gathered at the CIT Techno Park—a small, blue-roofed structure that served as their designated bench and shelter just outside the main Industrial Technology building. They were currently resting and eating their lunch after surviving a deep, philosophical discussion with Mrs. Rosita for their UTS (Understanding the Self) subject.
The vibe was relaxed. The girls were happily exchanging lunch foods, laughing, and doing their usual midday chit-chats to restore their drained HP.
But suddenly, the topic shifted. The digital radar of the group had picked up a massive anomaly.
Jessa stopped chewing her food. She stared at her phone screen, her eyebrows knitting together in pure confusion.
"Uy, guys... wait," Jessa announced, lowering her plastic spoon. "I saw Jiro left our section's NSTP group chat eh."
The rest of the circle paused their eating.
"Ay, really?" Mina asked, leaning over to look at Jessa's screen. "Why would he leave?"
"I don't know eh," Jessa replied, her thumbs quickly flying across her keyboard to execute a counter-measure. "I also added him immediately back to the group, and I messaged him in our circle's group chat right now. But he hasn't replied yet."
She locked her phone and looked at the group, a genuine look of concern on her face. "Where could he be, noh?"
The table fell into a brief, thoughtful silence. Jiro had been absent for a while, supposedly due to a severe flu caused by the grueling daily commute. But leaving an official subject group chat? That wasn't just being sick. That was a tactical retreat.
Dana, who had been quietly eating her lunch, suddenly gasped. Her memory banks had just retrieved a crucial piece of lore.
"Wait," Dana said, her eyes widening. "Remember what Jiro said and did back then? I saw him eh. He suddenly stood up and ran away in our room!"
Janna nodded slowly, piecing the timeline together. "Ah, during our Foundation's Week? When the campus was so noisy?"
"Yeah!" Dana confirmed, gesturing with her hands to mimic the sudden escape. "I asked him what was going on, and then he just said 'emergency' and then he was gone. What else was that ah? He just vanished and never came back."
The girls exchanged looks. The puzzle pieces were starting to align.
"Hala," Leslie whispered. "Do you think he actually shifted?"
"But he said he was just sick eh," Mina argued, though her voice lacked conviction. "He wouldn't just drop out without telling us, right? We literally adopted him into the circle."
"Well, he did say the commute was killing him, and he wanted to shift early to save a year," Shelly pointed out reasonably.
"True," Jessa sighed, staring at her phone screen, waiting for the chat bubble to pop up. "Let's just do a little investigation... and wait for his reply. I really hope he is okay eh."
The Morong faction remained in their blue-roofed shelter, eating their lunch with a newfound sense of mystery hanging over their table. The quiet, smart guy with the hard blue clipboard had officially become the server's biggest unsolved quest.
Meanwhile, in the other server...
KSU Taytay Campus, Gymnasium
Jiro Sanata was currently trapped in a psychological crossfire.
He was still deployed in his legendary "Gargoyle" or L posture, squatting deeply over the dusty bare concrete floor while his heavy glassware lunch box rested precariously on the seat of his monobloc chair.
His physical surroundings were an absolute sensory overload. The gymnasium was deafeningly noisy. Since it was the mandated lunch break for hundreds of trapped freshmen, the student emcees on the stage had decided to fill the dead air by dropping random intermission songs and upbeat pop tracks through the massive speakers.
Boom. Thump. Boom. The bass vibrated through the concrete floor, traveling straight up Jiro's sneakers.
He just ignored it. He had years of experience blocking out the useless noise of the world. But right now, the real noise wasn't coming from the speakers. It was coming from the glowing screen of his smartphone resting right next to his Tupperware lid.
CT COF
Jessa: "@Jiro Sanata, why did you leave?"
Jessa: "And where are you na ba? Why aren't you attending classes?"
Jiro stared at the screen, a piece of fried porkchop still halfway to his mouth.
His heart was hammering against his ribs. The stealth mission had failed. His clean break from the Construction Technology server had been intercepted, and now he was being interrogated by the very alliance he had left behind.
He slowly lowered his spoon, his face twisting into a deep frown.
Oi, just wait, come on, Jiro grumbled in his internal monologue, feeling a massive spike of annoyance. I am still eating here, ugh.
He chewed his porkchop aggressively, the savory flavor completely overpowered by the sudden taste of panic.
He couldn't just ignore it entirely. Leaving them on 'Seen' without a word would only raise more suspicion. But confessing? Telling them he dropped out, transferred, and accidentally became an Elementary Education major?
Absolutely not.
The number one rule of the Apex Strategist: Never reveal your true stats. Never expose your next move. Rephrase, deflect, and obscure. Just like how he bypassed the campus guards on his first day in KSU Taytay campus with a vague excuse, or how he smoothly lied to the KSU Taytay registrar about his Morong student number.
Jiro let out a long, heavy exhale that ruffled his bangs. He swallowed the chewed porkchop. The literal and metaphorical swallowed pill.
He wiped his free hand on a tissue, picked up his phone, and began to type out his tactical deflection. He deliberately ignored Jessa's second question about his absences and aimed solely for the first one.
Jiro Sanata: "uhh, well, I misclicked it... I was eating eh..."
He hit send.
Whoosh.
A blatant, unapologetic lie. Leaving a group chat takes at least two deliberate taps, not a random misclick while eating. But it was enough to stall them.
He didn't wait for their inevitable confusion or follow-up questions. With a swift, practiced swipe of his thumb, he grabbed the floating Messenger chat head, dragged it down to the bottom of the screen, and dropped it right into the 'X' icon.
Pop.
The digital ghosts were instantly banished from his screen.
"Problem solved," Jiro muttered, a dry, cynical smirk creeping onto his face.
He immediately switched apps, opening Reddit. He needed to cleanse his mental palate. He scrolled past the heavy stuff, hunting for funny and interesting feeds, silently laughing at internet absurdity while he scooped the rest of his rice and porkchop into his mouth.
The Morong chapter wasn't officially closed, but it was successfully muted.
He looked around the noisy, chaotic Taytay Gymnasium. The intermission music was still blasting. His new COF—Mira, Ivyn, and the rest—were still out there somewhere, roaming the packed campus on their food-hunting side quest while he stood guard over their bags.
He was sitting in a dusty covered court, eating a cold porkchop while squatting like a gargoyle, enrolled in a course he didn't even want.
But as he took the final bite of his lunch, Jiro realized something important.
My HP is fully restored. He packed his glassware back into his eco-bag, zipped it up, and grabbed his heavy insulated tumbler. The afternoon survival games were far from over, but the Apex Strategist was finally ready to face the Taytay server without looking back.
12:33 PM.
The food-hunting party finally returned to the base.
"Ay, grabe!" Mira groaned, collapsing onto the monobloc chair beside Jiro.
Ivyn, Niewi, and Cicille followed right behind her, completely exhausted and sweating profusely. The midday heat had drained their stamina bars to red.
To counter the massive heat debuff, they immediately deployed their ultimate cooling artifact. Niewi whipped out a massive portable handheld fan from her bag. It wasn't the standard, weak mini fan that Jiro owned. This thing was built like a desktop fan but weaponized into a rechargeable, handheld format.
Whirrrrrrrr.
It blasted them with a 1000% strong breeze guaranteed. The girls took turns hovering their faces in front of the miniature wind tunnel, letting out collective sighs of relief.
Jiro watched them for a second, then casually looked up at the ceiling. The massive, lone, industrial ceiling fan of the gymnasium was spinning lazily overhead, distributing a wide, even breeze across the court.
The portable tech is cute, Jiro thought, a dry smile on his lips. But still, nothing beats the server's built-in industrial cooling system.
"So, what did you guys buy?" Jiro asked, eyeing the plastic bags they had brought back to the chairs.
"Ay, this one," Niewi said, placing a clear plastic cup on her lap.
It was a street food classic: Siomai in a cup. It was swimming in a dark, glorious mixture of soy sauce, calamansi, crispy fried minced garlic, and a generous layer of chili oil.
Tipid hacks, Jiro noted with deep respect. A highly efficient budget meal. Maximum flavor, minimum cost. As they started eating their siomai with wooden skewers, Mira's energy levels rapidly replenished. The content creator within her awakened. She pointed a skewer toward the back of the gym.
"Uy, guys, let's take a picture there eh!" Mira suggested enthusiastically.
She was pointing at the COE Mini Blue House. It was an open-vent hangout spot painted in the signature college blue, situated right beside the gymnasium and directly behind the blue faction's seating area.
Hanging proudly in the middle of the structure was a massive, physical Instagram post frame made of illustration board. It boldly displayed the text: @Future Educators' Community FECtagram.
"Oumm, G!" Ivyn agreed, wiping her mouth with a tissue. "Let's go there!"
The rest of the girls nodded in unison. Then, Niewi turned to the resident male NPC of the group.
"Ay, Jiro," Niewi asked, tapping his arm. "Are you coming with us?"
Jiro paused. He was already comfortably seated on his monobloc chair, back in a normal posture, lazily scrolling through his phone. His social battery wasn't entirely full, and the prospect of standing up just to take photos sounded like an unnecessary side quest.
But then he looked at their expectant faces.
Well, I guess, sure... Jiro sighed in his internal monologue. It is for their bonding and memory. Might as well join the party.
He simply nodded and pocketed his phone.
After quickly finishing their siomai cups, they stood up. They decided to just leave their bags and lunch loot sitting on their chairs. It was a calculated risk, but a safe one—the area was completely surrounded by other resting BEEd 1-A cohorts who could passively act as perimeter guards.
They walked over to the Mini Blue House.
Unsurprisingly, they weren't the only ones with the same idea. The line to use the FECtagram frame was moderately long.
Queue time initiated.
They waited patiently, chatting and fixing their hair while the other groups cycled through their poses. Finally, it was their turn to step up to the frame.
An FEC officer, stationed there specifically for the event, was already holding a DSLR camera to document the freshmen.
"Ay, Miss," Mira asked politely, holding out her smartphone. "Can you also take a picture of us using our phones po?"
"Yes, sure!" the FEC officer smiled warmly, taking Niewi and Mira's devices with her free hand.
They scrambled into position behind the hanging cardboard frame. Naturally, through the unspoken laws of harem anime dynamics, Jiro was instantly shoved right into the dead center of the group. The girls surrounded him, flashing bright smiles and peace signs. Jiro offered his signature, slightly forced, polite smile.
"Okay, ready! One... two... three!" the officer counted down.
Click.
"Another one! Different poses!"
Click. Click. Click.
They cycled through heart signs, peace signs, and wacky faces, while Jiro maintained his role as the stoic anchor in the middle of the chaos.
As they stepped away from the frame to let the next group in, Mira leaned over to Niewi, whispering slightly.
"Aww, Cosma isn't here eh," Mira sighed, looking at the photos on her screen. "Let's just send this to her later."
Ah right, Cosma skipped today's server event, Jiro remembered. The Magnificent Seven is incomplete. Just a six-man party for the photo.
Satisfied with the captured memories, they walked back to their respective spawn points and reclaimed their monobloc chairs.
1:27 PM.
The noise in the gymnasium suddenly dropped as the microphone crackled to life on the stage. The mandated lunch break was officially over.
The stolen and scam orientation event continues.
Jiro crossed his arms. The afternoon session was going to be an endurance test.
The emcees took over, keeping the energy artificially high. Since the formal VIP introductions had already been cleared during the morning session, the afternoon program shifted straight into the technical lore drops. Dr. Ricky Manazaki stepped up to the podium, radiating his red-haired idol aura as he took the mic to host his segment and explain the functions of his specific office (GAD/OPA Office). He was followed by Mr. Jimmy Brackin, their calm and elusive official adviser, who detailed his own departmental roles. A parade of other COE and CON faculties, along with various campus staff members, took turns hosting the stage, breaking down the essential services and mechanics of the university.
Even the Clinic Nurse eventually took the stage. He smiled brightly into the microphone.
"And remember, freshmen, the School's clinic is always open for you..." he announced warmly.
Sitting in the second row, Jiro let out a sudden, dry laugh, though he was already heavily tired from the long day.
Always open? Jiro's cynical Shonen mind instantly flashed back to his campus exploration just a few hours ago. He vividly remembered staring at the closed wooden door, with the Nurse is Out sign stuck mockingly on its glass section.
Lies. Pure lies, Jiro noted silently, shaking his head. Top-tier academic irony.
As the event dragged on, a distinct split in party behavior began to form within the COF.
On the right side, Jiro and Mona were the absolute model students. They were heavily focused on the stage, staring straight ahead, trying their best to absorb the endless stream of academic lore and campus regulations being thrown at them.
But on their left side? It was absolute chaos.
Ivyn, Niewi, Mira, and Cicille were entirely disconnected from the orientation. They were in their own digital world. They were quietly laughing, recording secret videos, and snapping pictures of each other. They were furiously swiping through Instagram and TikTok, trying out different bizarre and funny face filters.
"Uy, look at this one!" Mira giggled silently, covering her mouth as she showed a distorted filter to Cicille.
Then, they turned their cameras toward the frontlines.
They pointed their phones at Mona, who was currently staring blankly at the stage like a frozen NPC, completely unaware of the digital crosshairs locked onto her. The girls snickered, secretly snapping photos of Mona's zoned-out face and applying goofy stickers to her image.
They are literally having the time of their lives in the middle of the most boring stuff, Jiro realized, catching the movement in his peripheral vision. He didn't say anything, just letting them enjoy their stealthy rebellion.
The afternoon crawled forward. To inject some much-needed stamina into the dying crowd, an intermission number finally kicked in.
A group of dancers from the Apex Grooves Entertainment (AGE) suddenly stormed the gym floor, delivering a high-energy, synchronized dance routine right in the middle of the two factions. The loud bass shook the concrete, temporarily waking the students from their academic comas.
But all things, even mandatory afternoon extensions, must come to an end.
4:33 PM.
"Thank you, everyone! And especially for our freshmen!" the emcee shouted, his voice echoing with maximum artificial enthusiasm. "So, we really hope that you all can enjoy the fun and relaxing journey of your college life here with us! And this officially concludes our re-orientation!"
Fun and relaxing? Jiro's inner cynic scoffed. We are literally drowning in sweat, dealing with ghost TBA professors, hunting for unlooted armchairs, and surviving that legendary, long-haul marathon across the entire building just to use the Boy's restroom. Top-tier comedy.
As usual... another random intermission upbeat, pop song was tuned in as the emcees went down from the stage and podium.
Jiro let out a long, heavy exhale of pure relief despite the blaring noise.
Finally. The scam is over. We survived the unskippable cutscene.
The gymnasium immediately erupted into motion. But they couldn't just bolt for the exit. As future educators, volunteer time was basically written into their DNA.
Jiro and the rest of the class stayed behind for a few minutes, helping to arrange the scattered monobloc chairs back into neat rows and picking up the random trash left behind by the massive crowd.
Once the gym floor was restored to its proper state, they grabbed their heavy bags and marched out to the campus gate.
4:48 PM.
Instead of immediately flagging down a tricycle at the crowded terminal outside, the Magnificent Six looked at the long queue and made a collective executive decision.
"Uy, let's just walk" Niewi suggested, adjusting her bag strap.
"G! The sun is not that hot anymore anyway," Mira agreed.
They embarked on a walking montage. The late afternoon sun bathed the industrial subdivision in a warm, cinematic golden hour glow. It was a surprisingly peaceful scene, even if the backdrop consisted of towering, dungeon-like industrial warehouses looming at every corner.
Walking simulator mode engaged.
They strolled down the tree-shaded street, dodging passing tricycles and delivery trucks. The air was filled with casual, fun talks—the kind of post-battle banter that naturally restores party morale. Jiro walked alongside them, lugging his "Hulk" bag but feeling surprisingly light. The weight of the mandatory orientation was finally lifting off his shoulders.
5:10 PM.
They reached the main intersection where their paths naturally diverged.
"I'll go ahead guys ah," Ivyn announced, waving at the group. "I will just go around the New Public Market instead eh."
"Okay, stay safe!" the group chorused.
With the party officially disbanded, they all fast-traveled to their respective safe zones. Jiro finally arrived home, dropping his heavy bag on the mattress with a satisfying thud.
Quest Complete: Survive the Thursday Server Event.
7:29 PM.
The physical exhaustion had set in, but the academic grind never truly sleeps. Jiro was lying flat on his mattress, his phone in hand. He had decided to tackle the pending side quest that Mr. Brackin had dropped offline yesterday: the 500-word reaction paper about the TEDx video on brain hacks.
He had the video running. Lila Landowski. 6 secrets to learning faster.
Just as he was absorbing the meta-knowledge, a distress beacon lit up his screen.
COF - BEEd 1A
Mona Patori: "Guys, did you watch the thing 6secets to learn faster?"
Mona Patori: "What is the fourth and fifth secret there ah, I don't understand the pronunciation 😭"
Jiro paused his video. He stared at the chat bubbles.
Ah. The classic listening comprehension debuff.
Instead of rewinding the video and straining his own ears to transcribe the exact phonetic spelling for her, the Apex Strategist within him executed a flawless bypass maneuver. He didn't rely on the raw video file. He scrolled down on his screen.
The ultimate walkthrough guide: The YouTube Comment Section.
He quickly scanned the top comments. Bingo. A kind soul had already timestamped and listed the entire lore.
Jiro smiled. He tapped his keyboard, ready to share the loot.
7:31 PM.
Jiro Sanata: "Try to look in the comment section beh,"
But because he was a benevolent party member, he didn't make her hunt for the answer herself. He handed her the entire drop directly.
Jiro Sanata: "Attention, Alert, Sleep, Break, Repetition, Mistakes."
Very smart Jiro. Very strategist. Why struggle with pronunciation when the internet hive mind has already synthesized the data?
The digital validation arrived instantly.
Ping. Ping.
Mira dropped a purple heart reaction on his message, while Mona smashed the original, default red heart on it.
7:35 PM.
Mona Patori: "T.Y beh, huhu I am so stupid crap, I really hope that I can be infected by the intelligence of this kid."
Jiro smirked at the glowing screen. Infected by intelligence? My stats are just distributed practically.
But then, the tall muse of the group intervened.
Mira Palida: "Don't say you are stupid ah,"
A wholesome, supportive message. But Mira wasn't done. The punchline followed a second later.
Mira Palida: "you will just become more stupid eh."
Critical hit. Friendly fire activated.
Jiro let out a dry, breathy laugh, watching the chaotic banter unfold.
Mona Patori: "Ay, I am smart 😭😅"
Mona Patori: "Hayss I am really not in the condition to study eh 😭"
Jiro just laughed and smirked at their messages. He had absolutely zero intentions to reply or react to them anymore. Plus, he was already secretly busy. The Apex Strategist wasn't actually slacking off—he was currently drafting the 500-word reflection for Mr. Brackin's offline quest.
He typed his raw thoughts into his phone's note app, dumping the data efficiently. Then, he activated a modern cheat code: he ran the text through an A.I. grammar checker assistant to fix his grammar, fluency, clarity, and engagement.
He checked the final word count. 626 words in total.
Oops... Jiro smirked. This is fine. Overachiever stats unlocked.
With the digital draft perfected, he manually transcribed the polished reflection onto a fresh piece of yellow pad paper. He finished it completely flawlessly, with absolutely zero erasures. Awesome writing!
Satisfied with his loot, he carefully clipped the yellow pad paper into his iconic blue clipboard, zipped his "Hulk" bag shut, and collapsed onto his mattress with a massive, heavy exhale. He plugged his phone into the charger, slid it safely under his mattress, and finally closed his eyes.
The daily missions were cleared. And tomorrow was officially a holiday—an extended rest day for them.
END OF THE SWALLOWED PILL