I Just Want A Single Ending!

'That's… quite a bit again…'

Seeing the system's reward, Kamigawa Saku couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

So, is this reward really random or not?

He'd always assumed it was, thinking the rewards were completely random. But as he received more rewards in recent days, he couldn't shake off a growing sense of unease.

Maybe I should review this more carefully.

Kamigawa decided to organize his thoughts thoroughly.

If the system rewards were based on his progress in forming relationships, then the choices he'd made over the past two days might explain the surge in rewards.

He had indeed grown closer to several people, so an increase in rewards would make sense.

But the problem was, he'd received abilities like teleportation and a range of special cards simply from making casual choices—the simplest ones at that.

This didn't seem to add up.

He'd only agreed to form a band with Chihaya Anon and somehow gained a superpower as a reward.

At that time, he and she had only known each other for a few days, nowhere near enough time for their bond to progress so drastically.

And as for the learning card—he received it just for telling Gotoh Hitori that they were friends.

These rewards didn't seem linked to relationship progress at all!

Does the system value superpowers and unique cards less than attribute points?

How is that possible? If they were indeed less valuable, why would the system reward him with attribute points for minor choices?

It felt contradictory.

Thinking it through, Kamigawa found himself leaning back to his original theory—that rewards were random.

Because of a lucky streak, he'd gained a superpower.

Because of another stroke of luck, he'd received a unique card.

And because of sheer luck, he'd amassed a large number of attribute points.

It's like drawing prizes in a gacha game—after enough tries, you're bound to get lucky once or twice.

The more he thought about it, the more Kamigawa felt this must be the case.

Clearly, the system's rewards were random; otherwise, it didn't make sense.

And with that conclusion, he felt entirely reassured.

If rewards were strictly based on relationship progress, wouldn't that mean he was already close to winning over Nagasaki Soyo?

No, no—"winning over" was definitely too exaggerated.

They'd only just started calling each other by their first names yesterday, still just friends.

Exactly, another piece of evidence pointing to random rewards from the system.

His relationship with Nagasaki Soyo had deepened to the point of using first names, which had come with a flood of attribute points.

Yet when he got to the same level with characters like Chihaya Anon and others, he hadn't received nearly as many attribute points.

This felt like blatant favoritism!

They're all potential relationship targets, so why the big difference?

So, the answer could only be one thing:

The system's rewards are random.

With that, all the inconsistencies made perfect sense.

'I feel so much more at ease.'

With everything now clear in his mind, Kamigawa finally let go of his worries.

He glanced at Nagasaki Soyo, who was resting her head on his shoulder, and picked up the remote to turn off the movie, keeping any extra noise from waking her.

Go ahead and sleep.

If you nap now, how will you sleep tonight?

This was the price of getting cozy with him without permission.

After devising this "evil" plan, Kamigawa picked up his phone.

Doing nothing was boring, after all. Might as well see what interesting stuff was out there.

---

Meanwhile, at Togawa Sakiko's home...

'What is this?'

Following Kamigawa Saku's advice to look into information on competitors, Togawa Sakiko stumbled upon a news story.

'"Assistant of Million-Follower Influencer Leaves Over Salary Dispute"…?'

Curious, she clicked on it, hoping to learn some behind-the-scenes gossip about fellow influencers.

But after reading it in full, she was left thoroughly disappointed.

The entire article was a complaint against the influencer, detailing the assistant's grueling work and presenting various pieces of evidence.

They wanted a 40% share of the account revenue, but their request was flatly rejected.

To the public, this was juicy drama, a feast for onlookers eager to enjoy the show.

For her, however, it was utterly uninformative.

'Boring.'

She was just about to close the article when something struck her.

No, something here doesn't add up.

It wasn't the article that felt off—it was Kamigawa Saku.

Because Sakiko clearly remembered that his reason for working with her was to make money, considering her valuable.

So why isn't he exploiting me?

It's not that she wanted him to. The question was, why wasn't he doing it?

He'd claimed he wanted to make money, yet he'd given her a high base salary and offered her a 50/50 split of ad revenue.

If he really wanted to maximize profits, he could've given her a smaller figure, like the influencer in the news article.

This could, of course, be seen as Kamigawa Saku treating her with genuine respect.

But the question was—was she really worth that level of sincerity?

His follower count was only around six hundred thousand, while the influencer in the article had nearly a million.

And that assistant had only asked for a raise after working long hours, hoping for a 40% share.

In other words, before then, that assistant hadn't felt shortchanged.

As for her, she'd started with a 50% cut.

No matter how she looked at it, something was off.

Kamigawa Saku was being suspiciously generous with her—to the point of being unreasonable.

Rereading that rather enlightening article, Sakiko's brows furrowed.

The assistant in the article had a much tougher workload than she did.

That was evident from the details provided in the article.

And even then, they'd only asked for a 40% cut, while she was getting a full 50%!

Where she had once thought of Kamigawa Saku as simply a kind person, he now seemed… wrapped in a veil of mystery.

And so, Sakiko began to research this type of work, searching for news and recruitment ads.

Even though information in this field was scarce, after extensive searching and analysis, she reached a startling conclusion.

Most newcomers aiming for this kind of work were given a base salary only, with no profit-sharing options whatsoever.

Even when profit-sharing was offered, it was usually reserved for those with experience.

But she had been given an absurdly high profit percentage right from the start, which defied all logic.

Even if she was, as he claimed, irreplaceable.

As a newcomer, receiving a one to two percent cut would be reasonable.

But fifty percent? That was definitely out of the ordinary.

Back when she'd had a lawyer review the contract for potential issues, she hadn't thought twice about it afterward.

But now, upon reflection, none of it added up.

Why was Kamigawa Saku being so inexplicably nice to her?

---

Greetings, esteemed reader.

Your presence throughout this chapter's journey is deeply appreciated. In Liyue, we hold that every tale, much like the enduring stone, gains strength through the appreciation of those who encounter it.

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With sincere regards,

Zhongli