I Suddenly Became Rich, But I Have No Idea How to Spend the Money

Kirishima Akira, just an ordinary college student with nothing particularly remarkable about him.

Looking back, I suppose I’ve always been a lucky kid.

Winning a trip in a shopping district lottery, or making a wild guess on an exam and hitting the jackpot.

But at best, it only ever felt like I was lucky.

That’s about the extent of it.

Sure, being lucky is better than being unlucky, but I never thought much of it beyond that.

And so, life went on for Kirishima.

“Man, isn’t there anything interesting going on?”

Muttering such idle thoughts in my head, I sat through yet another university lecture.

Back in high school, I was a decent student. Not a genius, but competent. My grades and efficiency got me into a respectable national university in Kansai.

At some point, I thought it might be nice to study abroad, but majoring in a foreign language sounded tedious. So, on a whim, I enrolled in the law department. A decision I somewhat regret now—there’s just way too much to memorize and understand.

I have no intention of becoming a lawyer, nor do I plan on working in anything law-related. My approach to job hunting? Well, I’m banking on the university’s reputation to carry me through.

A second-year law student, no different from any other.

I joined some random club, scrambled to collect past exams before test season, and spent my free days working part-time. My savings? Not great, but not terrible either.

I work as a tutor at a cram school. Not because I’m particularly good at teaching difficult concepts, nor because I have a strong grasp of science or math. My performance as an instructor? Average, at best.

I don’t stand out, but I also don’t slack off. I just steadily guide my students through their curriculum.

Oddly enough, my dry, no-nonsense approach—no pointless chatter, no unnecessary flair—seems to be a perfect fit for today’s middle and high school students.

Maybe that’s why, despite my lack of enthusiasm, both students and their parents find me easy to work with rather than impressive.

Given my mild popularity, the head of the cram school has been nudging me to consider a full-time job there after graduation.

I just brush it off, dodging the offer with vague responses.

Not like they’re seriously expecting me to say yes anyway.

I travel as a hobby, whenever I can manage—maybe once every six months.

By now, I’ve grown accustomed to living alone, figured out the tricks to skimming through university with minimal effort, and take pride in my ability to get by efficiently.

But something feels… lacking.

Life is just too uneventful.

And then, on a calm early April day, sitting in my usual last-row, window-side seat, zoning out during class—

A moment occurred that would change the course of my life forever.