It is true that her sudden appearance drew my curiosity. My slouched body rose away from the desk’s surface. All the emoting I performed had blurred my eyesight with viscous tears. It forced me to blink repeatedly, flushing out the stickiness. The sharpened senses identified a uniform. The person stood like a tower. A modest number of inches taller than me.

When our eyes met, I resented my display of behavior. I had just attempted to communicate with my peers. Failing that, had brought out habits corresponding of a loner. My experience with friendship was sparse, in real life. Online was slightly better. First impressions did matter, I understood. A classmate had spared me some goodwill, but I responded like a true pessimist. Fixing it was required. At the depths of my psyche, there existed an emergency supply of friendliness.

“G-Good morning. You are?”

“Filiel. Sorry for barging at an inconvenient time. I’ll return.”

“…I regret that.” Then I introduced myself.

“I came looking for a brief meeting. Will you?”

I nodded and she motioned me to follow. Class was about to start. She drew out a chair for me. Placed next to the window, one large enough for me to jump out of. May’s morning sun made its way through the steel bars and reflected on the floor tiles. She preferred this spot the most. And accommodated herself on the next seat. She was leaning over the backrest, but it seemed our teacher did not mind a pupil showing her backside towards him. Whether he was cool with it or just negligent.

“When I transferred over to Class F, I had a tough time as well. If you ever need a hand, say the word. I cover almost everyone with their homework.”

Another advertiser…

“So, do you deal in homework cheats?”

Her hand went over her lips. “Cough. Coursework Merchant.”

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A sound of creaking wood startled me. It bore the weight of a fat, muscular arm pushing down it. I had entered the crosshair of an F-Class tough guy. His threatening gaze made it certain. “I enjoy the outdoor view…” He said.

“I’m performing a cold prospect over here.”

“And?”

“My policy. Everyone knows it. Or did you forget that I don’t help out brutes?”

He looked displeased, but ultimately accepted it. “Traded, the back row isn’t bad either.”

Traded? But I liked the back row. Far away from the teacher’s attention.

“Sorry for that.”

This person had impressed me, but it’s not like I could copy and paste her homework and claim it as mine. Since my assignment was bringing out my ESP. "I would like to hire you. But you wouldn't be able to help with my current task."

“Are you sure of that.” She smirked. “I was a top of the line Class A student. Honor Roll. If you have anything over the level, I’d pay credits to test myself with it.”

“N-Nothing as exciting.” I went over the story so far.

“From that, I only see that you need a test subject. I'll make you an offer. We'll team up and you'll split your earnings fifty-fifty. Do you accept it?"

Half of my credits earned. The day before, the teacher had handed a sparse amount of them to the few student who participated. The system was some sort of reward for good behavior. With ‘defined’ as in the College’s best interests. If we could split those earnings, it meant trading was allowed. Yet her offer, seemed to be against me. Those credits are supposed to pay for my food.

But thinking it through. Everyone else had already rejected me. I was unexperienced and for the moment, unpowered. Without an ability to distinguish myself. My family lineage meant teaching me entrepreneurial skills was at least attempted. So, I understood the poor position I stood. Negotiating a better deal was a pipe dream. But I still tried. My weak points were abundant. And she was a fierce negotiator, better deserving of the Friedd name than I did. I lost in the end. My counteroffers were rejected with logical statements. She knew what she wanted and kept stiff.

How is she so good at it? I was just about to cave in, when my will to fight re-ignited. Who’s this girl? What’s her motive?

‘Her objective is clear. You are an easy cash grab. Probably no one else would accept those terms.’

She intends to turn me into her cash cow? With her motive in the back of my head, I felt an awkward feeling of belonging. Before me was absolute greed. Something I despised in my relatives. Despite that, I started trusting. Only if I were the one to take the leap of faith, would I survive the College.

"Your offer will do. On your terms."

“Deal.”

‘That one’s greed has established a Sinful Contract.’

An outsider had intruded our conversation. The Advisor had manifested.