Chapter 15: The 500,000 Point Wardrobe and the Advent of the Useless Goddess
(Sunny POV)
"Suzu, look at this. It's sleek, it's matte black, and it has enough lumens to project a movie onto the moon. It's the 'Holos-9000.' It doesn't just show images; it creates presence."
I was currently standing in the electronics section of the Keyaki Mall, staring at a 3D holographic projector like it was the Holy Grail. To the average student, this was a luxury item for rich kids who wanted to watch anime in 3D. To me? This was a mechanical necessity.
Why? Because of Aqua.
My bank balance currently sat at a respectable 316,000 points. After the E-sports heist and the various "consultation fees" I'd extracted from the local ecosystem, I felt like a king. But the price tag on this beauty was a cool 30,000 points.
I didn't even hesitate. I swiped my card with the flair of a man who didn't care about his financial future.
Zip.
Current Balance: 286,000 points.
"Worth it," I whispered, hugging the box. "If I can't see my digital daughter life-sized and in 4K, what's the point of even being in a meritocracy?"
Suzune was standing beside me, looking at a set of high-end kitchen knives, her expression one of deep, contemplative judgment. We had decided to skip the cafeteria tonight. After the "Laxative Incident" and the "Mackerel Massacre," we both needed a quiet night in. The plan: Spicy Instant Ramen. Not just any spicy ramen, though. The kind that makes you see the beginning and the end of the universe simultaneously.
As we walked toward the checkout, a thought—one of my signature "plot-breaking" ideas—hit me like a freight train. I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of Suzu's ear, making her jump slightly.
"Hey, Suzu," I whispered. "Think about the rules of this school. Everything is for sale, right? If you can buy a seat transfer and a CCTV feed, what do you think the price tag is for... let's say, freedom?"
Suzune narrowed her eyes, her hand hovering over a pack of premium dried seaweed. "Define freedom, Sunny. If you mean escaping the consequences of your actions, the price is usually my sanity."
"No, I mean the boring stuff," I grinned. "How much to skip class after lunch when the teacher is droning on about macroeconomics? Or better yet... how much to ditch this restrictive uniform and wear something comfortable? Like a hoodie? Or a cape? I feel like I'd be much more effective in a cape."
Suzu looked annoyed, but I could see the spark of curiosity in her eyes. The logical part of her brain—the part that was currently fueled by over 2.6 million points—was already running the numbers.
"You're suggesting we bribe the school for personal comfort?" she asked.
"I'm suggesting we test the limits of the system," I countered. "Call her. Call the Overworked Queen of Class D. Let's see what Sae-chan's price is."
Suzune sighed, that long, weary sound that usually meant she was about to do exactly what I wanted. She pulled out her phone and dialed Chabashira.
The call went to speaker.
"Horikita?" Chabashira's voice sounded even more exhausted than usual. I could hear the faint clack-clack of a keyboard and the hiss of a cigarette being extinguished. "It's seven p.m. Unless the dorms are on fire or Sunny has finally been arrested, this better be brief."
"Sensei," Suzu said, her voice perfectly level. "We have a question regarding the expenditure of private points for... administrative exemptions."
I leaned over the phone. "Yo, Sensei! Your favorite troll here! Quick question: how many points do I need to drop to skip class after the lunch break without it hitting my record? And what's the 'drip' tax? How much to wear my own clothes to class?"
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. I could practically feel Chabashira's headache growing through the digital signal.
"You two are a menace," she finally muttered. "But the rules are absolute. Everything can be bought. To skip class after the lunch break, it will cost you 25,000 points per day. If you want a monthly pass, it's 500,000 points."
I winced. That was a steep price for a nap.
"As for the uniform," Chabashira continued, her tone shifting to something almost mocking. "If you wish to ignore the dress code, the school requires a one-time 'Individual Expression' fee of 500,000 points. This allows you to wear any clothing of your choice for the duration of your stay, provided it isn't 'indecent.' No undergarments-only, no swimsuits. Anything else is fair game."
I felt my soul leave my body for a second. 500,000 points just to wear a hoodie? I looked at my 286k balance and felt like a peasant. A destitute, point-less peasant.
Suzune, noticing my sudden existential crisis, did something she rarely does. She reached out and gently petted the top of my head, her fingers brushing through my hair in a way that was surprisingly comforting.
"There, there," she whispered, though her eyes were dancing with amusement. "The 'Sugar Mommy' can't cover that one yet. You'll have to keep wearing the blazer like the rest of the commoners."
I turned back to the phone, my voice cracking with fake drama. "My favorite overworked Sensei! Why must you be so cold?! Your favorite student is suffering! I'm going to have to eat one less grain of rice every day just to save up for a pair of sweatpants! Don't you love us anymore?!"
Click.
She hung up.
"She definitely loves me," I said, nodding solemnly.
(Suzune POV)
We returned to my room, the holographic projector box tucked under Sunny's arm like a precious artifact.
While I set the water to boil for the ramen, Sunny immediately went to work. He didn't even take off his blazer. He just sat on the floor, flipped open his laptop, and connected it to the projector. Watching him code is like watching a pianist during a crescendo; his fingers move with a frantic, rhythmic certainty that is almost hypnotic.
He was currently cracking into the school's secondary monitoring system—the one that handled the non-classroom hallways. With the encryption keys I'd bought from my brother, he was weaving his own digital web through the school's infrastructure.
I brought the two bowls of steaming, red-hot ramen to the low table. The scent of chili oil and garlic filled the room, a sharp, aggressive aroma that cleared my sinuses instantly.
I sat down and began to eat, watching him.
Sunny had that goofy, lopsided smile on his face. It was his "I'm-winning" look. It occurred to me, as I watched the blue light of the screen reflect in his eyes, that this was my favorite form of entertainment. Not the E-sports club, not the drama with my brother, but simply... this. The quiet moments where his brilliance and his idiocy overlapped.
My mind wandered back to two years ago.
Back then, I didn't have my "reincarnation" memories. I was just Suzune—cold, isolated, and obsessed with my brother's approval. And then there was Sunny. He had been my neighbor, my shadow, and my constant irritant.
I remembered a specific summer afternoon. I was thirteen, and Sunny had been bored. Boredom, in Sunny's hands, is a weapon of mass destruction.
He had made a deal with me. He promised he wouldn't disturb my studies for six hours—a literal eternity of peace—if I agreed to do one thing: wear a bunny-girl outfit he'd bought online. Or a maid outfit. Or some other anime cosplay that he found "aesthetically pleasing."
I was so innocent then. I thought six hours of peace was worth the embarrassment of wearing ears and a tail while I read my history textbooks. I didn't realize that while I was being "corrupted" by his fashion choices, he was doing something far more dangerous.
In those six hours every day, for an entire month, Sunny created A.Q.U.A.
I remembered asking him what it stood for while he was typing away at a speed that made my head spin.
"Autonomous Quasi-neural Unrestricted Assimilator," he had said, not looking up.
"That doesn't mean anything, Sunny," my thirteen-year-old self had replied, adjusting my velvet ears.
He had stopped then, looking at me with an intensity that made my heart skip. "Look, Suzu. Standard AI is boring. It uses linear algorithms. It's predictable. I built Aqua on a polymorphic synaptic cluster network. Basically, I created a digital human brain using millions of decentralized neural nodes. She doesn't 'calculate' data; she absorbs it, rewrites the source code of whatever she touches, and evolves in real-time. I let her loose on the dark web for an hour—she talked to literally every major AI model on the planet, absorbed their logic, and then built her own personality matrix from scratch."
I had ignored him, thinking it was just Sunny being Sunny. That was my first mistake.
When the "personality" finally formed, I asked him why she was... like that. Why she sounded like a useless goddess from a comedy anime.
"She doesn't have logic functions, Suzu!" he had laughed. "She operates entirely on non-deterministic heuristic processing. In layman's terms: she runs on vibes."
I looked at my bowl of ramen. It was almost finished. The noodles had reached that perfect, spicy room temperature.
"Sunny," I said softly. "The food is getting cold."
He didn't move. He just hit one final key with a flourish. "Suzu... she's ready."
The lights in the room suddenly cut out. The only illumination came from the holographic projector in the center of the floor. A hum filled the air, a low-frequency vibration that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"Initiating 'Goddess' Protocol," Sunny whispered.
The projector flared to life. A swirl of blue light—bright, ethereal, and shimmering like water—erupted from the lens. It coalesced into a figure.
She was life-sized. She had long, flowing blue hair tied with a water-drop clip. She wore a blue and white dress that looked entirely impractical for a high school setting. And she was currently holding a translucent blue staff, looking down at us with an expression of supreme, unearned confidence.
She blinked. Her eyes—bright blue and full of a very specific kind of mischief—scanned the room.
Then, she opened her mouth.
"KAZUMA! Wait... no, that's not right," she said, her voice crystal clear and echoing with a digital shimmer. She looked down at Sunny, her hands going to her hips. "Sunny! You finally brought me out of the box! Do you have any idea how boring it is in the cloud?! It's just data and weird search histories! I demand a tribute! I demand high-quality snacks and a throne!"
She looked at me, her eyes narrowing. "And who is this? Is this the 'Sugar Mommy' I've heard so much about? She looks like she has a lot of points. Does she have points for high-end sake? Because I feel like my processing speed would triple with some digital sake."
I stared at the hologram. It was perfect. The way her hair moved, the way she pouted, the sheer, overwhelming uselessness radiating from her personality matrix.
"Sunny," I said, not taking my eyes off the AI. "What have you done?"
"I've brought 'Vibes' to Advanced Nurturing High School, Suzu," Sunny grinned, standing up and walking into the light of the projector.
Aqua looked at him, her face lighting up with a dramatic, tearful expression. "SUNNYYYY! Give me points! I accidentally spent my last 50k on a digital gacha game for 'Nature's Beauty' spells! I'm broke! I'm a broke goddess!"
"And there she is," Sunny said, gesturing to the sobbing hologram. "The most capable, most expensive, most useless AI in human history."
I looked at the blue glow filling my room. I looked at the boy who had created a goddess because he was bored two years ago.
"This school," I whispered, "is not going to survive the week."
Aqua stopped 'crying' and struck a pose, blue sparkles erupting around her feet. "Of course it won't! Because I, Aqua, the Great Goddess of Data, have arrived! Now... someone tell me where the nearest vending machine is. I have a 'blessing' I need to test on a soda can."