I watched our grumbling homeroom teacher finally admit defeat to me. A surge of triumph washed over me. Tsurumi Mirei, so this is what your downfall looks like!

Her expression was dazed, her eyes glazed over. She’d started rambling nonsense, swaying unsteadily. A sweet flush colored her cheeks as she muttered secrets about herself. Those big eyes—so different from her usual scheming side—were utterly adorable now. Strands of hair fell loosely around her face. She looked like a sleepy cat… and my heart skipped a beat.

No. This was just the alcohol talking. Don’t be fooled. Though… wouldn’t it be nice if she were always like this?

Hmm? Wait. Let’s assess the situation: three or four drunk beauties sprawled on the sofa. Another three or four collapsed face-down on the table. And the host of this party—Tsurumi Mirei herself—was completely out of it, unconscious. That meant… I was the only one still sober!

Which meant… hehehe! A legendary harem like Wei Xiaobao’s! Wait, no—that’s not the point! The real issue: who’s paying the bill?! With everyone passed out… it’ll fall to me!!!

I clung to a sliver of hope.

I rushed to the front desk, praying the irresponsible teacher had prepaid.

No such luck. Of course she hadn’t settled the bill. So it was all on me. Oh god. I should’ve known this shameless teacher was utterly unreliable!

I asked the total. The clerk showed me the screen. Holy crap! Over five thousand yuan! Enough for a new phone! (Why did I think of phones first? Hmm…)

Seriously?! She invited us out, and *I* end up footing the bill?! The other girls just collapsed, worries drowned in alcohol. Should I knock myself out too?

A chilling image flashed in my mind:

The girls get carried away safely. But me—a lone guy—gets dragged to some shady back-alley clinic. Kidneys harvested. Other organs stripped out. Stuffed into a sack with rocks. Tossed from a van into the dark sea… sunk to the ocean floor.

Stop it!

But… this *is* a famous five-star hotel. It probably… maybe… surely wouldn’t be *that* dark, right?

A tiny angel popped into my head:

"Don’t assume safety! What if it *does* happen? Always prepare for the worst! Remember Murphy’s Law—if you fear it, it’ll happen!"

Right. That makes sense. Assume the worst-case scenario!

First, check if my phone even has enough funds. Please, past me—you lived so lavishly, you must be loaded, right? Fine. I’m a man. I’ll be bold. I’ll march up to the front desk, all confidence (but sweetly, flatteringly): "Excuse me, do you… happen to need a dishwasher? I’m strong, hardworking, fearless—I’ll scrub every pot and pan till they shine!"

Thank goodness for fingerprint payments. So convenient. If it required a card PIN like old times? I’d be screwed. Modern tech saves lives!

At the counter, I told the clerk I’d settle the bill. She printed the receipt. She was actually quite cute—not as stunning as the eight in our private room, but still pretty. Hotel staff *are* the face of the place, after all. Especially in a five-star joint!

She scanned my QR code. An order popped up. I pressed my fingerprint. Payment successful. Yes. No mistake. Payment successful. My phone had enough. Meaning my original account balance was way over five grand. Hooray! Safety first! One shining star! …Okay, calm down. I’m forgetting something.

Back in the booze-filled private room, the sight of leftover dishes jolted my memory. Right! I hadn’t even *eaten*! All that fuss, and I’d only drunk with Tsurumi. No way I’d waste food. Thrifty! …Though I won’t order new dishes. *I’m* paying. Once Tsurumi sobers up, she owes me double! Didn’t some book say leftovers taste fine with love? Right!

Since I was the only conscious one… alone under the sea and sky—wait, it’s night. Alone in the quiet darkness. No one awake to see me lose face. I could… do a few naughty things. No one would know. Right?

So I devoured the leftovers like a starving wolf. Gobbled everything down. Of course, I wasn’t happy about saving money. I was genuinely proud—saving food for the nation! Every dish I skip means one less life taken. A healthier planet. More biodiversity. If everyone saved like me, think of the meals for starving kids in Africa! Maybe *this* meal saves one life right now!

Yes. That’s a solid reason. So I cleared every plate with a clear conscience, grinning proudly.

...

By the time I finished, it was 7:30 PM. I’d arrived at 6:30. An hour spent drinking and eating. Time to go.

But as I stood to leave, panic hit: what about the eight unconscious beauties in this room?! Luckily, it was a private suite, and I’d slipped out to pay unseen. If strangers saw this scene… I could already imagine the whispers and pointing fingers.

Calm down. My brilliant brain can solve this. Stay cool. Chant the mantra: *Ice-cold heart. Unshaken by falling skies. Ice-cold heart. Unshaken by falling skies…* Got it! Just run. Abandon them. Yes. Perfect plan. Flee. The best of the Thirty-Six Stratagems.

No! What if something happens to them? I’d blame myself. Better they get "wasted" by me than strangers… Wait, no! Bad thought! Think again… Ah! Wake up Tsurumi Mirei! Dump the problem on her. Let *her* panic! Brilliant. Truly, Xia Chuan Yuan’s genius shines again. Let’s do it!

I approached our dazed homeroom teacher—the delinquent Tsurumi Mirei. I reached out to rouse her.

My hand froze.

Her sleeping face was utterly serene. Nothing like her daytime self. No trace of her usual petulance. Delicate features. A lovely figure. Peaceful as a porcelain doll. So… heartbreakingly sweet.

My heart lurched. Suddenly, two figures appeared in my mind—a devil and an angel—bickering fiercely, demanding I choose a side.