My New Life

Chapter 25: Sneaky Kitsune

Koenji looked disappointed, but still had his smile.

"I see, so it was luck?"

"You can say that. W-what about you?"

"Haha! Let's just say there's lots of young women who'd gladly answer my every question."

"Oh."

That's all I could form as a response.

I was aware that Koenji had a lot of women clinging to him after learning his future was set in stone as the successor of a very rich conglomerate, but to give up information so easily like that.

Hah, some women are seriously too desperate.

"Hahaha! Not the response you were expecting hm?"

"N-no. Not at all."

At the same time, there's one thing that's a little bit concerning.

After evaluating those three for these last few days, I can safely say they'll all get at least 50 in each subject so long as they keep this up.

Even without my intervention, it's likely they'd each get at least 40.

But I've noticed a problem.

What was it, 32?

32 or 33.

I'd thought that was a weird passing score before, but hadn't looked into it.

I have some more time now, luckily, so I should be able to figure that out soon.

I have an idea already, but I wasn't sure about it, I'll need to confirm with another class.

But for now, there's something I forgot to do.

Still keeping my eyes forward, paying attention to the lesson, I slipped my hand into my pocket.

Phone app at the very bottom right.

Second contact from the top.

Default keyboard holds ten on the top row, nine in the middle, and seven in the bottom row, space is just below the bottom row.

Not once taking my eyes away from the front, I began to type out the message, and pressed send after I was finished.

Less than a minute later, a hand was raised into the air.

"Yes Kushida?"

"Sorry sensei, may I go to the restroom quickly?"

"Of course."

"Thank you sensei."

Kushida stood up, and exited the room.

About two minutes later, my phone buzzed inaudibly.

I quickly pulled it out, only slightly, and put it back once I confirmed.

Every single time I do this I feel more disgusted with myself, but despite the fact I'm increasing the intensity of what I'm doing, she's yet to crack.

In other words, my plan will work.

Trying to track the phone, a bra pic.

Trying to search the phone for fingerprints, a bra and panty pic.

This third time, she had found the only store on campus that sold masks like the masks I have in my bag, only to discover that I never got my masks from there.

She's playing it smart though.

She's using the time limit I gave her to brainstorm more ideas, and then does one right before I would tell her to send me a picture anyways.