Now that the plot between Cerise and Kristen had been set, all I needed to do was to sit comfortably, watching them crash and burn inside their private chats and reap the benefit later on.

Thus, after I had nothing to do after school, I took all the brochures prepared for new students, alongside the application letter. The club fair would be held in a week, but the students could fill the application letter earlier if they wanted.

Back then, I joined the Science club because I wanted to learn more before entering medical school after high school, only to be absolutely betrayed by that nerd Albert Aimer.

Well, I was and still am a nerd, just like him, I guess.

But I wouldn’t be that kind of guy who screamed justice and fair fight, but pushing all my competitors by throwing their submission into the trash, so I wouldn’t have any competitor left.

I didn’t have any motivation to be the goody-two-shoes joining club activity for hobby or interest.

I wanted to see which club activities out there would be beneficial for me in the long run. I needed a club activity that would give me a good position, which would be a safeguard.

In high school, the clubs you joined will be your clique most of the time.

Picking the right clique would save me from endless torment and bullying. So I started reading the brochures they gave me, checking all the available club activities they offered.

“Hm… let’s see… Science club, nope, I don’t want to fall into the same trap. Dance club? Only if they want to see a live exorcism. Drama club? I can be executor during Marie Antoinette’s execution play, I guess.”

I laughed at the choices because none of them fit me. At least, none of the supposedly suitable options for me had any sort of clique benefit in the school.

What kind of clique benefit I wanted?

The one that got me into a strategic spot as an observer, a comfortable place to watch over the chess game of high school life between cliques.

And to observe, you need a high space, like a tower.

My eyes kept staring at two choices that I would never pick, an American football club for an obvious reason and Cheer club.

Those two go hand in hand, but I couldn’t join the Cheer club because I wasn’t physically fit to be there. And second, there was Chrissy and Cindy inside the cheer club.

Thinking about going to the same club with them already gave me a shiver, let alone having to show a fake smile to them.

The American Football club would have Mason Hall there, being cheered by so many people like a quarterback star he was.

I imagined his dreamy gaze. He was indeed such a perfect boy, athletic, handsome, smart, and working as a model outside of school.

What? I told you that I had a crush on him, right? But I didn’t want to play with death, knowing how horrible the bullying got when he helped me in the previous life.

So all I did was just admiring him from afar.

…

After reading through all the brochures, I was stumped, realizing none of the current popular clubs would fit me.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to join any club if it didn’t have any clique benefit, but extracurricular activities were required in this school.

I was about to fill the application letter for either Chess club or Math club until I found the last brochure that fell down from the desk.

“Hm? I didn’t remember taking this last one before.”

I picked the brochure on the floor and frowned when I read club name, “Pottery Club?”

Honestly, I had no idea about this club, even in my previous life. The only thing that I remembered was the emptiness of this club.

Yeah, the pottery club only had one member left since the seniors had graduated. There was a gap year with zero students coming in.

So in my batch, there was only one student who applied, and it was about to get closed due to a lack of members.

But apparently, the parent of the only new member inside Pottery club paid a hefty amount of money as a donation to the school, so the pottery club could stay afloat.

It was quite a talk for a while back in my previous timeline because everyone was curious about the identity of this kid who could pay big money just to maintain a dying club.

When some students tried to visit the pottery club to see the rich kid who literally bought the pottery room in the school. But the room was always empty, well maintained, but empty.

…

Wait, empty?!

An idea popped out of my head. I might not fit with any of the cliques for now, but at least I could have the pottery room for myself!

I didn’t know what I would do with it. But I could always use it as a secret multipurpose room in case I needed something to be stored or used it as a hiding spot. Well, implying that rich kid who paid for the pottery room wouldn’t come anyway.

I put down the brochure and held my pen. Thus, I started by writing my name in the application letter.