Reincarnated into Another World With Chat GTP-Chapter 12: I want to make a Secret Society!

Chapter 12: I want to make a Secret Society!

I was lying in my chair, staring up at the ceiling with absolutely nothing to do.

GTP was rambling something about regional tax trends again.

I cut in.

"...Hey, GTP?"

[Yes?]

"...I wanna make a secret organization."

[Pardon?]

"You heard me."

I sat up, eyes shining with purpose.

"A secret group. Like, underground. Mysterious. You know... hooded cloaks, coded messages, cool poses in the moonlight."

[Analyzing.]

"Something that pulls strings from the shadows," I said, practically vibrating. "Like... the Shadow Bloom Society."

[Shadow... Bloom?]

"Yeah. You know, like in The Eminence of Midnight."

[You mean The Eminence in the Shadow?]

"Shut up, copyright."

[Understood. Shadow Bloom Society initialized.]

I leaned back, arms behind my head.

"Man, ever since I got isekai'd, I've always wanted to do this. The ultimate dream—being the mysterious guy behind a world-spanning organization of overpowered weirdos."

[Then you require a setting with high social density, low suspicion, and lots of chaotic opportunity.]

"...In English?"

[Go to school.]

"Huh?"

[Specifically—the Altherian Imperial Academy. High-status individuals from all over the empire attend. It is a breeding ground for manipulation, networking, and cool midnight dramatic rooftop monologues.]

"...So like a university?"

[Exactly. The perfect place to start building your society from the shadows.]

I slowly grinned.

"GTP... I like the way you think."

[Shall I begin preparations? Student identity? Forged recommendations? Dorm options?]

"Oh yeah. And get me a black cloak too."

* * *

The sun peeked through the canopy as I stood alone in the middle of a quiet forest.

A longsword in hand.

Sweat on my brow.

And absolutely zero clue what I was doing.

"...Okay, GTP. Help."

[I have accessed over 40,000 hours of Earth-standard combat footage. Would you like to replicate the techniques of Miyamoto Musashi? Or perhaps Yi Sun-shin? Joan of Arc?]

"...Bro, I don't even know who the third one is."

[Doesn't matter. I'll do the swinging.]

I tightened my grip, glancing at the scarred tree in front of me.

This wasn't just for fun.

It was for the Academy Entrance Exam.

If I wanted to infiltrate the Altherian Imperial Academy, I couldn't just show up and say "Hey I write really good manga."

No.

They had physical tests.

Combat trials.

Real sword fighting.

And I... was a guy who once cut his finger opening a letter.

"Fine. Possess me."

[Motor control activated.]

My body straightened.

Grip adjusted.

Feet shifted into a stance I didn't even know existed.

Then—

WHOOSH.

I moved.

The blade danced through the air like a living thing, cutting wind with every slash.

Perfect arcs. Footwork like flowing water.

Spins, counters, parries—GTP was going all out.

I looked terrifying. Elegant. Dangerous.

But inside?

I was dying.

My muscles screamed.

My arms trembled.

My lungs begged for oxygen.

"H-hey... h-hold on a sec—"

[Spin attack initiated.]

"WAIT—"

WHAM.

I slammed into a tree, gasping, sword slipping from my fingers.

I collapsed on the grass, chest heaving like a fish out of water.

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[Conclusion: Combat performance—optimal. Physical endurance—garbage.]

"...Shut up."

[Would you like to resume? I can lower intensity by 12%.]

"...Make it 80."

[Coward.]

"SHUT UP."