[Ding! Impression points from plot character Hiromitsu Morofushi have increased by 1000! Impression nature... Affinity.]
Dangling a slice of bread from his mouth, Satoru Gojo let his gaze linger on Hiromitsu Morofushi's relaxed features for a fraction of a second.
As expected, the System Shop's "Sweet Dreams Candy" yielded exceptional results.
From a certain perspective, its mechanism closely mirrored the dream-weaver Gojo had crossed paths with a few years back. However, while invoking a dream-weaver required trading away a portion of one's own life force, the Sweet Dreams Candy boasted a far superior cost-performance ratio. It didn't just evoke an individual's most cherished memories to construct a starkly realistic dreamscape; it also subtly enhanced their sleep quality and overall mental stamina over time.
Most importantly, it carried zero side effects. Even Gojo himself occasionally purchased a few to snack on as a pre-bedtime indulgence.
He remained in the dark regarding the specific contents of Morofushi's pleasant dream, but witnessing that genuine smile elevated his own mood considerably.
"Looks like Little Hiro's nightmare was thoroughly devoured."
Gojo finished off his breakfast and threw on his uniform in record time. Donning the police cap adorned with the iconic cherry blossom emblem, he cut quite a commanding, authoritative figure.
"If you ever find yourself struggling to fall asleep again, just ask me for a piece of candy."
Morofushi blinked, teasing lightly, "Then I won't stand on ceremony, Officer Hisano."
A new day ushered in a fresh slate of classes.
Following the conclusion of the midday recess, Instructor Onizuka led the cohorts to the firing range for a session of handgun marksmanship training. Aside from the core six-man circle of the Onizuka class, students from a handful of neighboring classes had been folded into the session as well. The firing range offered vast real estate, after all; it would be a waste not to maximize its utility.
"The firearm resting in your hands is none other than the SAKURA—the official five-shot revolver issued to the Japanese Police Force!"
Instructor Onizuka held up a revolver, introducing the weapon with a stern expression. "Today's live-fire evaluation is segmented into four distinct rounds, with five rounds of ammunition allocated per cycle. Your final grade will be aggregated from your two highest-scoring sets—anything below seventy points constitutes a failing mark."
"As for the individual who finishes dead last in the total standings... feel free to venture a guess as to what your penalty might entail."
Catching Instructor Onizuka's menacing smirk, a collective shudder ran through a vast swath of the student body, causing several to swallow hard.
Conversely, not a single member of the Onizuka class's core group betrayed a hint of anxiety. Though branded as "problem children" from the very dawn of the academic term, their baseline capabilities remained peerless; a standard marksmanship test was far from a daunting hurdle.
Furuya Rei gripped his handgun, his focus entirely locked onto the bulls-eye ten meters downrange.
In the next breath, a succession of crisp discharges sliced through the air.
Hagiwara focused his gaze on the target, offering an appreciative whistle. "Five consecutive hits dead in the center ring—impressive precision, Furuya-kun."
Instructor Onizuka nodded in approval. "Your firing cadence is excellent."
"However, do not let an early success cloud your judgment." Folding his arms, the instructor invoked the legacy of a legendary predecessor who had once established a legendary benchmark. "Are you aware? There was once a senior colleague of yours who managed to secure a flawless, perfect score during his very first live-fire evaluation."
Wataru Date displayed a look of surprise. "Meaning..."
"All twenty bullets pierced directly through the absolute center of the bulls-eye?" Kenji Hagiwara interjected.
"Precisely."
"Then that genius senior must currently be serving as an elite investigator within the First Investigation Division, right?"
The silhouette of Kogoro Mouri flashed across Onizuka's mind, forcing a trace of awkwardness into his expression. "No... he actually resigned from the force. He currently operates a private detective agency down in Beika Town."
"Huh? You're kidding, right?"
The revelation caught everyone thoroughly off guard. To possess such extraordinary marksmanship, only to walk away and establish oneself as a private eye?
"In any case, regardless of his current profession, the record he left behind remains a monumental hurdle that few can ever hope to shatter—"
Bang! Bang-bang! Bang-bang—
Before Onizuka could deliver his intended lecture on guarding against complacency, five sharp, decisive gunshots cut him off.
Furuya Rei and Kenji Hagiwara pivoted their heads, only to witness the black-haired, crimson-eyed youth casually resting one hand inside his pocket. His other hand lazily raised the revolver; he hadn't even bothered to adopt a standard firing stance. To an outside observer, he looked less like an elite cadet and more like an ordinary civilian shooting balloons at a local street festival.
Yet every single onlooker could see the result with absolute clarity.
Five distinct bullet holes overlapped seamlessly at the dead center of the bulls-eye, lacking even a millimeter of deviation.
"Eh~ So a perfect score isn't actually that difficult after all."
Instructor Onizuka bellowed instantly, "Hisano! Did you completely erase the requirement for a standardized firing stance from your mind?! Furthermore, the first round's results do not dictate the entirety of—"
"Then let's just push through a few more rounds."
Gojo raised his arm, letting loose several more discharges in rapid succession.
The outcome required no further elaboration. Even factoring in the brief interruption to reload, he completed three entire rounds of evaluation in under a single minute, concluding every single sequence with a flawless score. Under the dumbfounded gazes of his peers, he effortlessly spun the revolver around his index finger, executing a flashy, cinematic holstering maneuver.
A handsome youth sporting a mane of black curls let out a dry mutter. "...Flashy to a fault."
Kenji Hagiwara clapped his hands in delight. "Wow, as expected of Hisano-kun!"
An image of an American Western cowboy materialized unprompted within Hiromitsu Morofushi's mind.
Furuya Rei, meanwhile, found himself thoroughly perplexed. Has this guy been drilling firearm mechanics since he was in the womb?
Don't ask—it was pure genius.
Gojo suddenly registered an exceptionally intense glare directed at him from their massive class leader. Recalling the unspeakable, borderline illicit fan works he had skimmed through on the forum the previous evening, a sudden shiver raced down his spine.
Whoa, hold on, brother—why are you locking your eyes onto me so intensely?
No, no, no—their class leader was a man straighter than reinforced structural steel! He couldn't afford to let his imagination run wild.
"Hisano-kun, your capabilities truly are staggering..." Wataru Date tightened his fist, an aura resembling a roaring blaze manifesting in his background. "I won't allow myself to lag behind either!"
Ah, so it was just standard hot-blooded competitive spirit.
Gojo secretly let out a sigh of relief. It was entirely the fault of those bizarre fan works; his baseline thought process had been thoroughly contaminated. I've learned my lesson. Please grant me mercy, forum creators.
Broadly speaking, harvesting impression points from all factions left Gojo highly satisfied.
"The test is wrapped up, so I can take off early, right, Instructor Onizuka?" He tossed the revolver back onto the staging table, his mind clearly having drifted miles away. "The cafeteria is serving a limited-edition mango mille-crêpe cake today."
Instructor Onizuka's temple throbbed violently. Hisano had already commanded the spotlight during the hand-to-hand combat session, and today he had coasted his way to a perfect score without breaking a sweat. A prodigy of this caliber might very well secure an extraordinary, accelerated promotion straight to Inspector upon graduation.
So why did the instructor find it utterly impossible to feel pleased?
"Hisano, your performance is exceptional..." He forced a terrifyingly rigid smile. "Given how immensely skilled you are, go ahead and report to Instructor Yamada's training camp next door to assist in guiding the cadets from the other cohorts."
"When the dismissal bell rings, report back here for assembly."
Recalling the "Instructor Slayer" moniker that had rapidly saturated the campus grapevine, the surrounding students harbored zero concern for Hisano. Instead, they silently offered up a round of prayers for Instructor Yamada next door.
Gojo: Stepping into the role of an educator? Now that's a domain I'm intimately familiar with!
Though secretly thrilled by the arrangement, he still feigned a thoroughly reluctant expression before taking his leave.
With the staggering benchmark established by Hisano Nozomi looming before them, the remaining cadets channeled their focus, determined to showcase their absolute finest capabilities.
However, Jinpei Matsuda immediately ran into a snag. He had missed the target entirely for five consecutive shots.
Inspecting the revolver in his palm, he voiced his dissatisfaction with a sharp click of his tongue. "What gives? It's missing the mark entirely!"
Observing the performance, Onizuka arched an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Matsuda? You're quick enough to throw punches during a brawl, yet you can't even handle a standard firearm?"
Matsuda refused to accept that his fundamental marksmanship was this abyssal. He fiddled with the weapon's mechanics, voicing his suspicion, "Could the cylinder stop be defective?"
"Enough with the wild theories, resume your course of fire!" Clearly, Instructor Onizuka assumed Matsuda was merely constructing excuses to deflect blame.
Paying the command no heed, Matsuda sat straight down onto the floor, his hands launching into a practiced, highly clinical disassembly of the revolver. "Ah—just as I thought, it's the cylinder stop. The alignment between the barrel and the cylinder is completely warped; how is anyone supposed to land a shot with this?"
"Matsuda! Reassemble that firearm immediately!" Observing the scattered array of internal components, Onizuka felt his temples—which had already suffered under Gojo's antics—begin to throb with renewed vigor.
Kenji Hagiwara, thoroughly accustomed to such behavior, offered a casual explanation to the rest of the group. "Don't mind him. Little Jinpei is essentially a disassembly maniac. Ever since we were kids, the moment he lays eyes on a piece of machinery, his first instinct is to tear it apart. He's triggered a fair share of disasters because of it."
Correspondingly, however, Matsuda possessed an elite, granular comprehension of mechanical architecture—including complex structures like explosive devices.
To ensure the remaining cadets completed their live-fire evaluations within the allotted class period, Instructor Onizuka accelerated the training tempo, ultimately directing Matsuda to utilize Hagiwara's revolver to repeat his evaluation. Though the subsequent results verified that Matsuda's baseline marksmanship was entirely sound, his unauthorized disassembly of police property still earned him a disciplinary order to stand at attention without moving.
Following this, Onizuka directed the cohorts to surrender their equipment and initiated a comprehensive count of the remaining ammunition.
"What? A single live round is unaccounted for?"
"Yes, Instructor..." The assistant instructor responsible for equipment retrieval reported with a wave of panic. "During the inventory verification prior to returning the firearms to the armory, the count fell short by exactly one live round!" He cast a fleeting glance toward Matsuda before continuing, "Furthermore, the component pieces of the disassembled revolver have yet to be retrieved..."
Instructor Onizuka's brows knitted tightly as he turned to interrogate the culprit. "Matsuda! Why haven't you reassembled that handgun?!"
"Huh?" Matsuda replied with a characteristically dismissive slouch. "Didn't you order me to stand at attention and not move?"
"Drop the attitude! Hand over the hidden round immediately, and I'll overlook the infraction this once!"
"I didn't take any ammunition! Every single spent casing was surrendered to the assistant instructor!"
"Ha?! If it wasn't you, who else could it possibly be?!" Instructor Onizuka closed the distance, pressing hard.
Truth be told, had that lawless brat Hisano been present on the range, the pool of suspects certainly wouldn't have been restricted to Matsuda alone.
"Instructor Onizuka!" Wataru Date stepped forward to diffuse the escalating tension. "As the class leader, I give you my word that the missing round will be surrendered immediately! Could you accord Matsuda a brief window of time?"
"Hmph..."
It wasn't entirely unjustified for Instructor Onizuka to exhibit such extreme anxiety. Should a cadet covertly hoard live ammunition and trigger an incident down the line, the professional accountability would fall squarely upon his shoulders.
Right at that juncture, two workers clad in bright orange utility uniforms approached the staging area. "Instructor Onizuka, we are currently executing repairs on the roof structure. Would it be acceptable for us to access the interior ceiling framework to inspect the progress?"
"Certainly, follow me. I'll guide you to the access point." Onizuka led the maintenance crew toward the structural point, not forgetting to cast a parting directive toward Wataru Date. "Ensure that round is recovered and turned in without delay!"
The towering, thick-browed youth nodded in solemn affirmation.
"I say, Leader... do even you assume I'm the one who pocketed it?" Jinpei Matsuda's tone carried a sharp edge of irritation.
In reality, Date harbored zero suspicion toward his classmate. He offered a reassuring grin. "You didn't hoard the round, correct?"
"Obviously!"
"Then maintain that confidence. Rest assured, I will personally unearth the actual culprit and ensure they turn themselves in!"
Furuya Rei, however, chose that moment to speak up. "Leader, you're being far too naive."
"When a person is subjected to a false accusation of this caliber, if they aren't afforded the opportunity to clear their own name, it might very well crush their spirit permanently..."
Matsuda's intuition flared instantly. He snapped back with irritation, "You bastard... you secretly went behind my back to dig into my old man's case, didn't you?!"
"Well, seeing as you absolutely refused to share the details with me," Furuya Rei offered a soft chuckle, "I was left with no choice but to rely on my own resources."
"Heh, Furuya—it seems a few days without a proper brawl has made you a bit too comfortable, hasn't it?"
Observing the volatile friction sparking between Matsuda and Furuya, Wataru Date let out a weary sigh, stepping in to mediate. "Alright, you two—"
Suddenly, a massive structural crash echoing from the ceiling framework cut their exchange short.
The group snapped their heads upward, witnessing a massive breach rip open across the roof panels. A maintenance worker, his frame secured to a safety harness, plunged straight through the opening.
"Watch out!"
Positioned nearest to the impact zone, Instructor Onizuka reacted entirely on instinct, leaping over the safety railing to vault himself forward. He extended both arms, attempting to brace the worker's falling mass to stabilize his descent.
By a cruel twist of mechanical fate, the looping slack of the safety cable whipped through the air, ensnaring itself tightly around the instructor's throat.
"Ugh—!" A painful, suffocating gasp escaped Onizuka's lips.
"Disaster! The safety cable is wrapped around the instructor's neck!"
The surrounding cadets erupted into a panicked frenzy, the entire firing range plunging into instant chaos.
"Is the maintenance worker who fell unconscious?!"
"At this rate, someone needs to scale the roof structure immediately to sever the cable..."
"There's absolutely no time for that! What if someone else loses their footing and plunges down?!"
In stark contrast to the enveloping panic of the crowd, the core members of the Onizuka class exhibited an eerie, hyper-focused composure.
Gazing at the unfolding structural crisis, Wataru Date directed a steady, commanding tone toward his circle. "Hey. You all know exactly what needs to be done, right?"
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