He gulped down a bellyful of water, his stomach sloshing noisily, then went into the tiny bathroom, filled a basin to wash his body, face, and feet, and brushed his teeth. Once everything was done, he changed into his school uniform, grabbed his backpack, and headed out to the convenience store to buy seven rice balls—some with meat, some vegetarian—eating as he walked to school.

At this time, it was early April, still within the cherry blossom festival period—March 15th to April 15th is Japan’s cherry blossom festival, but Hokkaido’s climate is relatively cold, and the cherry blossoms usually bloom in May. Right now, there wasn’t even a shadow of a cherry blossom, making it feel not at all like Japan.

After all, it’s only with cherry blossoms fluttering down and a beautiful girl in a sailor uniform glancing back with a gentle “ohayou” that you get that true Japanese flavor!

However, although there were no cherry blossoms in Sapporo at this time, there was another substitute: black locust flowers.

Black locust, also known as Robinia, is tough and cold-resistant, and is the city flower of Sapporo, the “City of Ice and Snow.” Right now, it was in full bloom, with clusters of white, pink, and yellow flowers hanging from the branches, swaying in the wind, looking just as pleasing to the eye.

He kind of wanted to eat them...

Autumn Whitman looked at the locust flowers, feeling a bit nostalgic for the locust flower pancakes from his hometown. Unfortunately, in Japan, it’s not common to make pancakes with locust flowers—they actually pickle them as a side dish, so he hadn’t eaten them in two years.

There was no going back. If only he could cultivate immortality and gain supernatural powers, maybe there’d be a sliver of hope to return home, but right now, it was absolutely impossible.

He walked all the way, breathing in the scent of locust flowers, carrying a faint homesickness, entered the train station, rode the train for half an hour, then walked a few hundred meters still surrounded by the fragrance, and arrived at his current school—Shimizu Private High School. He was a first-year student, having just started a little over a week ago.

The main reason for choosing this school was to escape from the Kirishima City Special Care Home.

The special care home had its own educational system. Japan’s compulsory education is also nine years, ending with junior high. For orphans, the care home generally doesn’t recommend going to high school or university, because there’s no one to pay their tuition and living expenses. Relying solely on part-time jobs and student loans is too difficult, and hardly anyone can stick it out.

As for scholarships, except for a tiny minority who are exceptionally talented and extremely self-disciplined, what chance does a resource-poor orphan have against kids who’ve had private tutors and cram schools for years?

Reality isn’t a fairy tale, so the special care home is more like a vocational school, focusing on teaching kids a skill so that when they become legal adults at eighteen and enter society, they won’t starve to death right away.

As for Autumn Whitman, he didn’t necessarily have to go to university, but he didn’t want to stay in the special care home for another two years either. He was always trying to sneak into the demon-refining pot and desperately needed private space, so despite everyone’s objections, he signed up for the unified high school entrance exam on his own, achieved top marks, and earned a tuition waiver and scholarship, making his escape fair and square—private high schools, in order to maintain their reputation, will admit some high-achieving students to balance out the underachievers who pay high aid fees. He was one of those top students.

This was a rare achievement—he was the first child from the Kirishima City Special Care Home to do it, causing quite a stir in the home.

For this, he crammed for over thirty days using the demon-refining pot, and now he was a model honor student. For someone sixteen or seventeen, calling him a talented youth accomplished in both academics and martial arts was no exaggeration.

The talented youth, accomplished in both academics and martial arts, arrived at school on time, changed into indoor shoes after entering the building, and headed to his classroom. Along the way, he hoped to run into some bullying so he could intervene and bask in the “light of justice,” but unfortunately, Shimizu Private High had a good school atmosphere. He didn’t encounter any delinquents beating up classmates, thugs robbing wallets, or timid beautiful girls being forced into anything—public schools are usually chaotic, with plenty of troublemakers, and it would be satisfying to intervene, but they don’t offer scholarships, so it’s not worth going.

Slightly disappointed, he entered the classroom. As soon as he sat down, someone poked him in the back and asked, “Hey, Whitman, did you see the news?”

The one asking was John Grant, a chubby guy. Autumn Whitman turned to glance at him and casually asked, “What happened?”

“Alice Green showed up again!” The little freckles on John Grant’s chubby face seemed to glow with excitement.

Autumn Whitman suddenly remembered—he’d heard about this before. When he first heard the name “Alice Green,” he thought it was a monster and even considered refining it in his pot for a big boost. But after asking around, he was disappointed to learn it was actually a person—someone who appeared wearing a blue, masked ninja outfit, extremely powerful and fierce, specializing in fighting crime, and apparently female, hence the nickname Alice Green.

That’s just how Japanese people are—they often come up with exaggerated nicknames. For example, “The Face of a Thousand Years” refers to a singer, “Demon Ghost Win” is a sumo wrestler, and “Heavy Hope Mountain” is a baseball player. At first glance, you’d have no idea what they mean—maybe it’s a leftover habit from the Warring States period; they’ve been doing this since then.

What Alice Green does is a bit like Spider-Man, but Autumn Whitman wasn’t interested. He was busy enough with his own affairs and didn’t have time for this kind of thing, so he replied perfunctorily, “Really? The police still haven’t caught her?”