Right now, it was probably around eight o'clock.

I was driving Mirei Tsurumi’s car. Besides me, there were eight others: Mirei Tsurumi, my homeroom teacher, asleep in the passenger seat, and seven girls from my class crammed into the back. The seats were foldable, so I’d cleared the rear space by folding them down.

Wait—nine people in a seven-seater? That’s definitely overloaded! If traffic cops caught us, we’d be screwed.

And I was driving without a license. Plus, drunk! I’d rot in jail for life. What a irresponsible teacher—Mirei Tsurumi was really putting us on the spot. Was this even daijoubu?

I’d already left the five-star hotel’s parking lot. I found sunglasses in the car and put them on. Despite all the alcohol, I didn’t smell like booze. Would a breathalyzer catch it? Whatever—I’d slipped out smoothly.

Maybe the shades made me look mature. The security guard didn’t stop me, but he stared weirdly as I left. Like I was some strange creature. Was I just that handsome?

Oh, I get it now—it was nighttime, and I was wearing sunglasses. Of course people thought it was odd.

Too late to fix that impression. I’d probably never come back here anyway. Let them spread urban legends about the "Midnight Sunglasses Guy."

I only realized near my house: I wasn’t alone, and this wasn’t my car! Habit made me drive home. Luckily, no cops spotted me. My luck held.

Seeing we were almost there, I decided to head to my place first.

The car pulled up to my doorstep. I treated it like a game respawn point—home base, then restart.

I drove straight here. I could’ve tried wild stunts—drifting over manholes, 80-mph turns, no-brake dashes—but I didn’t. Honestly, driving someone else’s car made me itch to wreck it. Let Mirei wake up to scrap metal. Why care? It wasn’t mine.

I recalled a news story: a drunk guy hired a driver, only to find his luxury car totaled the next morning. Sounded familiar. A thrill shot through me.

My inner angels and demons clashed again. Light? Darkness? Such a tough choice.

But my last shred of decency won. I resisted. Wrecking her car felt satisfying, yet five thousand years of Chinese virtue taught me to respect teachers. She was my teacher—that stopped me.

Mirei had no idea her car narrowly escaped destruction while she slept. I could’ve blamed her—she forced me to drive—but I’m too big-hearted to scrap it that way.

At my gate, I parked in the yard. I hopped out, opened the rear door, and shook one girl awake.

Plan: get everyone’s addresses and drop them off. But they wouldn’t stir. From the hotel to here, they’d been dead to the world. First-timers, all of them.

What a terrible teacher—how much had Mirei Tsurumi made them drink?

After failing with all seven girls, I switched to Plan B.

Back in the driver’s seat, I’d take them to Mirei’s place. I regretted not booking hotel rooms earlier—so much easier than this hassle.

Why not my house? Don’t be silly! They’d think I’d done something to them.

Women are like this, novels say: a guy takes a girl home, does nothing, but she wakes up screaming, stares at the ceiling, slaps him, and brands him a creep. Standard trope.

With eight girls here? I’d be labeled a mega-pervert! I’ve read thousands of novels—I’d never try something that tanks my rep. Clever me!

You need high affection points for that. We just met—I’m not that reckless.

Better to dump them at Mirei’s. She’s the homeroom teacher; it’s her duty. Isn’t that what teachers are for?

Mirei must’ve built immunity to shaking. My "assault" didn’t work—her body had antibodies now.

Time to try something new. As the saying goes: "The same attack won’t work twice on me." Applied to Mirei, it should hold.

I pinched and pulled her cheeks, warping her face into silly shapes. She moaned "hnn" but stayed out cold. Honestly, it was fun—a rare chance to mess with a girl’s face, especially my teacher’s. A weird thrill bubbled up.

...Wait, this isn’t playtime! Snap out of it!

I finally stopped. Her cheeks were flushed, but she hadn’t stirred. Phew—no harm done. Though, wow, she was really hammered if this didn’t wake her.

Only one method left. They say it wakes anyone 100% of the time—your body’s instincts kick in. Harmless, but it might scar them psychologically. For the future’s sake... I had to try it.