Chapter 5: Ichika’s Test

Chapter 5: Ichika’s Test

Chapter 5:

Ichika’s Test

W EDNESDAY ARRIVED , marking the third day of the special exam period. At eight in the morning, the OAA app was refreshed for the second time, and the number of partner options we had inevitably dwindled.

“Thirty-four new partnerships have been decided, huh?”

Combined with the ones decided on Monday, that came to a total of fifty-six partnerships. Considering that there was a maximum of one hundred and fifty-seven possible pairs, that meant that 30 percent of students had already settled into partnerships.

The number of partnerships established yesterday were largely driven by Class 2-B, meaning many of them had something to do with Ichinose. It seemed several first-year students had carefully thought through their options after the meet-and-greet, and then decided to partner up afterward. Basically, I could confirm that many first-year students with a low level of academic ability had partnered with Ichinose and others from her class. Also, considering that some honors students’ names were now gone from the list of first-years, and some names of Class 2-C students were also gone, I could infer that Class C had successfully negotiated a few using points or the like.

In my own class, five partnerships had been decided, starting with Kushida. I checked Class 1-B’s page and saw that Yagami Takuya also had a partner. He might have paired up with Kushida. But the strange thing was that not a single person from Class 1-D had formed a partnership yet. Looking at the entirety of both of our grade levels, this was unique. If I didn’t get out there and really make a move now, I would probably be stuck. There wasn’t a single student here who could look at my scores objectively and tell me, ‘Hey, let’s team up.’

It was only natural that a student, regardless of whether they were academically gifted or not themselves, would want to team up with someone smart. Unlike the second-year students, who had learned to act for the sake of the class, the first-year students probably weren’t going to care that much about anyone else. They were more likely to see even their own classmates as rivals.

At the very least, people would put off looking at me until the high achieving students were taken. That was exactly why Tsukishiro must have told his agent not to let this opportunity slip by. Naturally, any student who came to me looking for a partnership or allowed me to partner with them would arouse my suspicion flag. However, if I remained indecisive forever and didn’t settle on a partner, my chances of getting paired up with Tsukishiro’s assassin would increase.

I needed to be certain that my partner wasn’t Tsukishiro’s assassin, but that probably wasn’t going to be easy. In truth, I couldn’t even imagine what kind of act this person was putting on to pass off as someone else. I could look up everyone’s face, name, and scores in the OAA app, but there were no clues to be found there. If all one hundred and sixty first-year students were my enemies, then that would be checkmate for me. No hope of escape.

That was such a ridiculous notion. I didn’t think even Tsukishiro could possibly pull all that off, but…

No, that wasn’t it. The important thing was for me to figure out a way to survive, even if everyone was my enemy. For now, I needed to pick a safe choice from the remaining one-hundred and four available students. There was no discrimination on the basis of sex for students raised in the White Room, making it impossible to narrow down the list of suspects on that front because they adhered to gender equality as a principle.

So how should I exclude people as possible suspects? One conceivable way would be based on physique. Meals served in the White Room were strictly controlled, down to the finest details. It was basically unthinkable that any child raised in that environment could become obese. Meaning that if I were to pick an obese student as my partner, I could avoid the White Room agent… That was one simple plan that came to mind.

But that wasn’t an absolute guarantee. It was entirely possible that the student from the White Room had been preparing to get me expelled for several months now. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be impossible for them to plump up or slim down if they wanted to. That would be easy for someone who endured the rigorous curriculum of the White Room to pull off.

But even if I were to put all that aside, I still had some doubts about choosing a student with a sub-standard physique. Granted, it was hard to be sure, because full body pictures weren’t displayed in the OAA app. There were only two students who were clearly obese, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility that either of them could have been sent by Tsukishiro. That was because I had to assume that the assassin might not just be someone from the White Room, but also someone from the general student population. They might have been offered the chance of going to a better college upon graduation if they got me expelled, for instance.

My next thought was to see if I could narrow down the list based on academic ability. That would also be difficult. If the student came from the White Room, then it wouldn’t be a problem at all for them to get a perfect score on the entrance exam. They could easily get an academic ability ranking of A or A+ without even trying.

In other words, they could freely control what scores they got. And I was sure whoever this agent was had heard about the OAA app being implemented. It wouldn’t even be surprising if the agent had gotten an academic ability ranking of E and was lying in wait for me. Similarly, it would be impossible for me to narrow it down based on whether they had been sorted into Class A or Class D.

I understood all that, but right now, I had nothing to work with. No way to narrow down the list of suspects, no matter what angle I came at this situation from. There was something I needed to do now. Namely, I needed to look at students with my own two eyes and confirm their authenticity. If I knew for sure that they weren’t not my enemy, I could partner with them or ask them to become a collaborator.

I set myself one goal. Starting today, whenever I arrived at class in the morning, during lunch, and after class ended, I would reach out to the first-year students that I saw over the course of the day, in the order I saw them. Then, I would try to gain their cooperation. There was no way Tsukishiro had sent someone I could detect at a glance, so I had no choice but to fight back with the element of chance, which was something he couldn’t interfere with.

My academic ability ranking, C, was by no means high. I wouldn’t be able to use that as a weapon. But it wasn’t like there would be no students willing to partner up with me. If I did some digging, I’d probably find some people.

5.1

I WALKED OUT OF THE DORMS and headed to the school building. While on my way, I quickly spotted a couple of first-year girls walking along and chatting with one another. Their names were Kurihara Kasuga and Konishi Tetsuko. They were both in Class A, but unfortunately, also academically gifted students who had solidified partnerships on the first day. It would be impossible for me to ask either of them to be my partner.

Well, I supposed the fact that they’d already decided on their partners wasn’t that much of a problem. If anything, it made them the best kind of students to turn into collaborators.

It’s just, well, it was kind of difficult for me to actually talk to them…

Even though there was the fact that I’d be approaching them under the pretense of needing to find a partner for this special exam, how exactly would a second-year guy approaching a couple of first-year girls appear to an observer? I couldn’t help but wonder. I didn’t really have the guts to just start talking to them and go “Good morning!” like Yousuke or anything. It was probably out of the question for me to just stroll up to them and confidently ask them to introduce me to a friend I could pair up with, too.

At any rate, I couldn’t afford not to at least try. Giving in right here and now wouldn’t exactly be smart. Right. Precisely so. I’d made up my mind.

But what was the best time to make my move? Rather than insert myself into their conversation while they were happily chatting, I thought I should wait until that conversation died down a bit.

While I was observing the two girls, another voice called out to me from behind.

“Good morning, Ayanokouji-senpai.”

It was Nanase Tsubasa, the girl who was with Housen the other day. She was now the third first-year I’d seen today, and she was giving me a sunny smile.

“Oh, hey. Morning.”

I hadn’t expected someone to come up and try to talk to me, so there was a bit of an awkward pause.

“Do you need something from those two girls? Would you like me to talk to them?” said Nanase, suggesting she reach out to them on my behalf.

Nanase was a first-year student, too. If she did call out to those girls, it was highly likely I’d end up talking to all three of them at once. That would be an even greater hassle.

“Nah, it’s okay,” I replied.

“Oh, really?” said Nanase curiously. She walked by me, just about keeping pace.

Just as I was trying to figure out how to approach those other two girls, I’d unexpectedly started up a conversation with Nanase. I was extremely grateful she’d saved me the hassle of trying to talk to somebody, but…

There was no way a first-year student coming up to talk to me was a coincidence. It was quite possible she’d been waiting for me to come to school, timing her move just right. And that possibility didn’t just apply to Nanase, but any and every first-year student who took the initiative to come up and talk to me. Just like Amasawa yesterday, she was a student who’d approached me, rather than the other way around.

“I apologize for Housen-kun’s rudeness the other day,” said Nanase.

“Nah, no worries. He didn’t do anything to me. There’s no need to apologize,” I told her.

“Still, that doesn’t change the fact that he caused trouble for you. Even though I was there to stop Housen-kun from doing things like that, I’m now keenly aware that I’m, well, powerless,” said Nanase.

Unlike the wild, aggressive Housen, she was extremely personable and spoke in a polite manner. Her highly preferable attitude, combined with the fact that she had a B in academic ability, made her a fantastic candidate for a partner. It wouldn’t have been surprising if she’d been scouted by people other than me. But here we were, on the third day of the exam period, and she still hadn’t partnered with any second-year students.

However, that was probably due to Class 1-D’s policy. Aside from her academic ability, she had scores of C+ or greater in physical ability, adaptability, and societal contribution. Very well-balanced scores. At first glance, I couldn’t see anything about her that remotely resembled a flaw.

Which was exactly what begged the question of why Nanase Tsubasa was placed in Class D.

Basically, the idea of Class D was that students who were assigned to it tended to have some kind of problem. For example, people like Yousuke and Kushida might appear perfect on the surface, but when you dug deeper, you realized that wasn’t the case. Meaning I couldn’t deny the possibility that Nanase also had hidden problems of her own. However, there was also no guarantee that this year’s batch of Class D students would necessarily follow the same trend.

Personally, I didn’t mind if someone had a few problems with their personality or their values. Whether I asked her to be my partner or my collaborator, the only important thing was whether Nanase was on Tsukishiro’s side or not. I was concerned about the look she gave me when I met her for the first time the other day, when she was with Housen, but…that look was gone, now. The way she looked at me now seemed normal.

“Have you decided on a partner for the upcoming special exam?” I asked her, deciding to press forward to try and find out more about the person known as Nanase.

“Me? No, I haven’t decided yet,” she replied.

“So, have people been coming up to you, to ask?”

“Yes, they have. So far, I’ve been approached by upperclassmen from Class A and Class C,” said Nanase.

As expected of someone who had a B in academic ability. It seemed like people had been talking to her.

“Why haven’t you agreed to partner up with anybody?” I asked.

I didn’t know if it honestly had to do with academic ability, or if it was about points, but decided to press the matter anyway.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that,” Nanase apologized, bowing her head.

“No, you don’t have to answer any questions that you don’t want to. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

It didn’t seem likely I’d get any answers about whether this was a personal problem on Nanase’s part or a problem with Class 1-D at this stage. In that case, I figured I’d try attacking this situation from a slightly different angle.

“If it’s okay with you, how about we have both our classes work together to help find suitable partners? Class D to Class D?” I suggested.

The proposal I made included finding a partner for myself. Horikita also considered Class 1-D the key to this exam, and Housen seemed to harbor some kind of feelings towards Class 2-D. It probably wasn’t a bad suggestion.

“Have our classes…cooperate with one another?” said Nanase.

“Yeah. A lot of students are trying to team up with people who are academically gifted for the sake of getting good scores on this test. But if they do that, the students who struggle academically won’t get picked, and a lot of them will be left behind. If the students who struggle academically pair up together, those students will be in danger of being expelled. That includes both us second-years and you first-years,” I reasoned.

“Yes. I understand that. I’d like to avoid that happening as well, if possible,” said Nanase.

“Yeah. In order to make sure that doesn’t happen, we need a proper balance. Even though we won’t be able to secure one of the top spots, we need to find partners who can make sure no one gets a failing grade.”

We were Class D. In terms of public image, we were by far the worst off. Which was exactly why Class 1-D, which had the same position as us in the hierarchy, should be likely to agree to this proposal.

“What do you think?” I added.

“I agree with you. I would like to cooperate with you, Ayanokouji-senpai, if possible. It’s just…” said Nanase.

“It’s just?” I repeated.

“I don’t know how many of my classmates would be willing to lend a hand. And on top of that, some of the students who are more confident in their academic abilities are already in the process of deciding who their partners will be, privately,” said Nanase.

Many of the students who could be major players in this exam and really help with our efforts were instead looking for solid partners of their own, aiming to get top scores on the exam. The two girls walking up ahead of me fit that description to a tee. The reason that students hadn’t settled on a partner yet was probably because of other issues, like points.

After all, the important thing to know about this test was that the top thirty percent of scorers would be rewarded. So, the act of rescuing students with poor grades meant throwing away your chances at those rewards.

“We don’t exactly need everyone to cooperate though. If we coordinate things well, we should be able to make it through this special exam just fine,” I said.

Even if some of the students had already set up partnerships, it wouldn’t be a major problem.

“That’s true. However, it’s not as though there are no other problems.” Nanase seemed to agree with the core idea of my proposal, but she had a grim look on her face. I didn’t need to think hard about the reason why. I could see it.

“You mean… Housen, I think his name was, right? It sure seems like he’s a major player in Class D.” I pried further into the internal affairs of Class 1-D, bringing up something that I was almost completely certain about, thanks to the interaction I had with Shiratori the other day.

“Yes. Many of the boys and girls in our class have already started obediently following Housen-kun’s orders,” said Nanase.

So what was once just speculation had now become certainty. It seemed Housen had already seized control of his class and was trying to keep it in his grasp. Which meant their strategy of blocking partnerships from being easily established might have been put forward by Housen, too. If that was the case, then Housen wasn’t just a student with significant strength. He also had the insight, observational skills, and composure to take stock of what was going on around him.

“Are you in a kind of a special position or something, Nanase? I didn’t get the feeling that you were all that subservient to Housen.”

“That’s because I will never yield to violence,” said Nanase.

Her words were so forceful that it was hard to believe they came from her mouth, given her appearance. The statement wasn’t something she threw out there casually. There was something significant behind it. I thought I sensed something—maybe confidence—reflected in the frank depths of her eyes.

“Senpai, what…do you think about violence?” she asked.

“What do I think?” I repeated.

“I mean, are you pro-violence or anti-violence?” said Nanase.

If she was looking for my thoughts about Housen’s way of doing things, then there was only one answer I could give her.

“I suppose if I had to choose between those two answers, then I would say pro,” I stated, clearly.

I was expecting some kind of immediate reaction after I said that, but I was met with silence. When I turned my gaze toward Nanase to check her expression, I noticed that the reserved look she had moments ago had disappeared. Now, she had the same eyes as when she looked at me the other day, when she was walking away with Housen.

After a couple seconds of waiting, Nanase finally spoke up. “If I had to pick one, I’d also choose pro.”

I couldn’t sense any emotion behind the response. What she’d just said could be either the truth or as a lie. Had Housen acknowledged the force of her conviction to not give into violence, and placed her by his side?

No… That wasn’t the only reason. Back then, Housen reacted strongly when Nanase had mentioned “that,” whatever it was.

There was no guarantee whatsoever that Housen was necessarily a stronger person than Nanase. I was curious about that, but this probably wasn’t the right time to ask about it. She didn’t seem like the kind of student who would talk unnecessarily about things that shouldn’t be said. I shouldn’t carelessly do anything that might make her even warier.

Should I pull back for the time being? There would probably be a chance to try again, with Horikita.

“In any case, if Housen’s the one deciding what your class does, this plan might be difficult to pull off.” I started to ponder the idea of contacting other classes while still maintaining a good relationship with Nanase, but…

“Well, um, pardon me, but if you’re all right with it… Would you like me to try to help set up a meeting?” Nanase offered, perhaps because she thought my suggestion about forming a cooperative relationship between our classes was a good plan.

“I really appreciate the offer, but are you sure that’s okay?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how many students will cooperate, so I cannot make any definitive promises. In the worst-case scenario, it might just be me. Is that all right with you?” asked Nanase.

Let’s put aside for a moment the question of what I thought about Nanase. It was important, for the time being, for Horikita and I to have as many opportunities as possible to develop connections with Class 1-D, for the sake of our classmates.

“Of course. I’m sure Horikita will be overjoyed, too.”

“Is Horikita-senpai the leader of Class 2-D?”

“Yeah. She’s the one keeping our class together right now.”

I decided to tell Horikita it would be a good idea to set up a meeting between both Class Ds, with Nanase’s help. I didn’t know the best way to go about doing that, though, since talking openly about it in the classroom would definitely get people’s attention.

“Oh, uh… I might not be able to give you a response immediately. Is that all right?” said Nanase.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll try to get things set up on my end as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

Nanase and I then exchanged contact information, agreeing to get in touch later.

5.2

A FTER CONFIRMING that Horikita still hadn’t arrived at school, I decided to wait near the entranceway. I figured it would draw too much attention if I were to casually start talking to her about this subject in the classroom.

Shortly afterwards, Horikita showed up. She gave me a puzzled look, not even considering that I might be there waiting for her.

“Good morning. Are you waiting for someone?” she asked.

“Yeah, something like that, I guess. She just got here,” I replied.

“I see,” said Horikita.

She briefly turned and looked over her shoulder. When she noticed there was no one else around whom I seemed to be particularly acquainted with, she turned back to me once more.

“Me?” she asked.

“Yeah. There’s something I wanted to run by you really quick.”

“I’m guessing it must be something important, if you were standing around waiting for me,” said Horikita.

We started walking.

“Important…? Yeah, I suppose so. I think it could be important. As it happens, I had the chance to speak with Nanase Tsubasa, from Class 1-D a little while ago, funnily enough. So I tried proposing a little something to her class,” I told her.

“Oh? And what kind of proposal would that be?” said Horikita.

“I thought I’d try bringing up the idea of our classes working together, Class D to Class D.”

“Knowing you, that’s quite a bold move,” said Horikita.

I was sure Horikita had been agonizing over how to form a relationship with Class 1-D, herself. I was prepared for her to get angry with me for going ahead and proposing a partnership without her permission, but…

“Have you checked the status of Class 1-D’s current partnership situation?” asked Horikita.

“Yeah. None of them have settled on any partnerships yet. I’m sure Sakayanagi and Ryuuen are probably putting them on the backburner as potential candidates, too,” I replied.

It was only natural that they’d focus their attention on high achievers from the upper-level classes who were willing to cooperate for a reasonable number of points, rather than the students from Class D who were asking for an exorbitant sum.

“I’m sure that’s not all, either. It would take a certain amount of work to comply with Housen-kun ’s aggressive policies. I’m sure that from the perspective of the upper-level classes, dealing with him would just consume a great deal of extra time and effort,” said Horikita.

“Maybe.”

“Did you make this proposal to Nanase-san after understanding the difficulties that would come with trying to confront Housen-kun? Or did you perhaps reach out to her in the hopes of forming a collaboration in secret, so that Housen-kun wouldn’t find out?” asked Horikita.

“What do you think?” I asked.

I deliberately turned the question back around on her, without really giving her an answer myself. If she was no longer planning on teaming up with Class 1-D at this point in time, then I was fine with calling everything off.

“I’ve re-analyzed our situation in this special exam, in my own way. Would you care to hear me out?” said Horikita.

“I’m not confident I can really give you any pertinent advice, though.”

“I’m not expecting any.”

Apparently, she just wanted me to hear what she had come up with. It probably had something to do with what I mentioned to her today about Class 1-D.

“First of all, when you look at the first-years as a whole, it’s obvious that the most popular students are the ones with exceptional academic ability,” said Horikita.

“Yeah. If I remember right, Shiratori said he’d been approached by both Class 2-A and Class C about drafting an agreement with him, using points,” I replied.

“But no one among Shiratori-kun and his friends has formed a partnership yet. I think it’s fair to assume they were unable to come to a settlement based on points, then. At any rate, the sum they asked us for, five hundred thousand points, was far too steep a price,” said Horikita.

When you considered the fact that the reward for placing in the top five was one hundred thousand points, and the reward for placing in the top thirty percent was ten thousand points, even asking for two hundred thousand points was way too much.

“I wonder how many points Hashimoto-kun and the others offered them,” said Horikita.

“Who knows? But it’s probably safe for us to assume that it was a far cry from five hundred thousand,” I told her.

It was impossible to know the answer to that, unless you happened to be the person involved in the negotiations.

“I would guess there probably wasn’t that big a difference between the offers Class A and Class C made. If I had to say, Class A’s offer might have been a little smaller,” said Horikita.

She had probably deduced that by checking the OAA app constantly, up until this morning. Between Class A and Class C, more students in Class C had finalized their partnerships.

“In terms of public image, Class A naturally has the advantage over Class C. Most people would choose Class A, unless there was an enormous difference in the number of points they were offering. With that in mind, we can guess that Class A is hoping to snatch up first-year students by leveraging both points and the value of their status as Class A, while on the other hand, Class C, is offering more points to offset their inferior public image and win students over,” reasoned Horikita.

I nodded, showing that I agreed with her conclusions.

“But I find Ryuuen-kun ’s thought process a little strange. If you want to win in this exam, then drawing the top-scoring students over to your side is at least the bare minimum you need to do. But that would inevitably mean having to compete against Class A to snatch up talent. And if Class C pits their wallets against Class A, I can’t imagine Class C would stand a chance of winning. Trying to shoot for first place in overall scores just seems reckless,” said Horikita.

Ryuuen had said that he was going to threaten people. But the truth was that his class didn’t stand a chance of winning that kind of competition.

“He should be going after the students Class A isn’t interested in, even if that means lowering his standards a little,” I replied.

Students who had a B- or even a C+ in academic ability would do well enough. It would be much safer to shoot for second place in overall scores.

“Well, I suppose trying to make sense of what he’s thinking is probably pointless, but… Anyway, I’ll get back on track now. The remaining class, Class B, is trying to create relationships built on trust with the first-year students, drawing in people without regard to academic ability, to save the weak. First-year Class D aside, we can assume that many students with an academic ability ranking of D or below have been saved by Ichinose-san,” said Horikita.

She briefly turned around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. After she made sure no one was listening in, she continued speaking.

“Which means our current objective is to reach out to the mid-tier students in each class. The people who have an academic ability ranking between C+ and B-,” said Horikita.

The students in that range probably wouldn’t be approached with big offers, and there would probably be quite a few of them still available. Going after those students while Class A and Class C were scrambling to snatch up the top-scoring students was a good move.

“So does that mean you’re retracting your plan of forming a partnership with Class 1-D?” I asked.

“No. That plan is still on. In fact, if anything, I should say it’s seeming more and more like the optimal choice for us,” said Horikita.

“So, you’ll abandon trying to get the average students from other classes?”

That could certainly be called a drastic decision. Since we were behind the other classes in our grade level, we needed to establish a lot of partnerships, as soon as possible.

“It’s not like we’re going to sit around and do nothing, of course. This might be a somewhat malicious way of doing things, but I intend to pretend to play the money game in order to buy us some time. The mid-tier students think they aren’t going to get tempting offers of huge sums of points, unlike the high-achievers. In that case, we’ll give those students a little taste of what it feels like to be desired. We’ll make them think that they can do a little haggling of their own,” said Horikita.

“You mean your goal is to make Sakayanagi and Ryuuen have to spend their points not just on acquiring the top-scoring students, but on getting the mid-tier students, too?”

“Well, I’m skeptical about just how effective it’ll be, but I figure I can probably draw some of their attention that way. And in the meantime, I intend to cut a path into Class 1-D. Which is exactly why what you’re telling me now is just what I wanted to hear. I’ve been thinking of contacting Nanase-san myself , ” said Horikita.

“But isn’t Housen exactly the person who wants to play the money game?”

“Yes, that’s certainly true. But I have to wonder, are points really all he’s after? When he came up to the second-year floor, he said, and I quote, ‘You can’t even form pairs unless we pick you. So, I figured, hey, I’ll lend you incompetent, braindead morons a hand.’ Which means his goal is our class. Would he have really phrased it that way if he was only after points?”

Horikita asserted that there should be some room for negotiation, aside from using Private Points.

“The fact that he purposefully said, ‘See you later,’ directly to me just before he left seemed to indicate something, too.”

“Yeah, that’s certainly true. I think it’s safe to say that Housen only has his sights on our class,” I replied.

In exchange for giving up on trying to secure the top spots, Horikita had set three core principles: “No one will get expelled,” “We’re not participating in the money game,” “Aim for third place or better in overall scores.” It wasn’t an easy task, but that was exactly why we were focusing on Class 1-D.

“At any rate, Housen-kun is certainly not going to be easy to deal with through ordinary methods. I have a backup plan.” Apparently, Horikita had devised some plans I didn’t know about. “I’m currently in talks with some people in Class 1-B about setting up a collaborative partnership.”

“Wait, speaking of 1-B… Do you mean you talked with the guy who went to the same junior high you and Kushida went to? Yagami?” I asked.

I thought back to what I saw in the OAA app this morning after it updated. How Kushida and Yagami had confirmed partnerships.

“Kushida-san and Yagami-kun partnered up together yesterday. Unfortunately, I don’t remember anything about any of the students younger than me at my old school, but he could be important. He seemed to place a good deal of trust in Kushida-san. And we’ve already been negotiating with him behind the scenes. Hopefully, if things go well, we can find more collaborators,” said Horikita.

Though this was good news, there was something that worried me.

“Are you giving Kushida instructions?” I asked.

Given how much Kushida hated Horikita, I wasn’t sure how seriously Kushida would try to help us.

“I’m well aware of how difficult that would be for me, all things considered. Which is why I’m working through Hirata-kun as a go-between,” said Horikita.

“I see. I suppose Kushida can’t afford to slack off then.”

If Kushida’s negotiations with Yagami resulted in even just a few students being brought over to our side, it would mean some of our partnership problems would be solved, and we could focus more on studying.

5.3

“G OOD MORNING , Horikita-san. Do you have a minute?” asked Yousuke, coming over to Horikita’s seat after first period ended and the break began.

I could see what was happening from my own seat, more or less.

“I went around and talked to a few people yesterday, but it seems I can’t really get anyone to work with us that easily, after all. There were some kids who said they’d consider teaming up with us, but, well…” said Yousuke, trailing off.

Even though he talked to people who played soccer, just like him, it sounded like things hadn’t gone so smoothly. Besides, no matter how good Yousuke was, it would be difficult to get first-year students who had only just joined the club to really open up.

“The first-years asked for points, didn’t they?” asked Horikita.

Yousuke nodded. Horikita continued speaking.

“Well, they have the chance to sell themselves for a high price, so I suppose that’s not surprising.”

Just as we had imagined, the problematic point buyout idea was running rampant all throughout their entire grade level.

“They told me they were approached by Class 2-A, wanting to partner with them. And that Class C came asking to partner with them too, in exchange for points. It wasn’t just the kids I talked to, either. From the sounds of it, almost every single student who got approached by Class A also got an invitation from Class C, too,” said Yousuke.

“I suppose that’s only natural, considering the competition over who gets the smart kids is quite stiff.” Horikita had already predicted this would happen. However, the words that came out of Yousuke’s mouth next were not what she expected.

“But apparently, even some of the kids with C and D ratings have been approached. I heard some stories about how the invitations came with offers of pretty hefty sums of points, too,” said Yousuke.

“Meaning they’re not necessarily prioritizing the students who are more capable academically?” said Horikita.

“As far as I can tell, yeah,” said Yousuke.

“I see. If you can remember any specific names, could you share those with me?”

“Of course.”

Yousuke proceeded to list off names of first-year students who were known for a fact to have received invitations from Class A. Horikita looked up their names in the OAA app, and quickly understood what was going on. The students who were being invited excelled in some other area, even if their academic abilities weren’t so great. They were valued for their high physical ability rating, or for their adaptability rating or societal contribution rating.

“I see… Well, actually, I expected as much,” said Horikita.

“Maybe they’re looking ahead to the future, and not just focusing on short-term results, then,” said Yousuke.

This wasn’t necessarily the only special exam where we’d be cooperating with the first-year students. If there were more instances where we had to work together, we might need skills other than academics at the time. Save the students who had concerns about their academic prowess, and make use of them later in their field of expertise—I was sure that was what Class A was thinking.

That being said, it was interesting that even Class C, led by Ryuuen, was doing the same thing. They weren’t just going after students with a high level of academic ability. They were following in Sakayanagi’s footsteps, right behind her.

“It would be great if we could do the same, but, well…” said Yousuke, trailing off.

“That would be difficult, I know,” replied Horikita, finishing his thought.

We were Class D. Sakayanagi was Class A. Even the kids who had only just started attending this school already knew which class had the better reputation. When considering their future, it was only natural that they’d favor the superior class, which could help them out more.

“Thank you. Can you keep looking into things for me?” asked Horikita.

“Sure. If I find anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Yousuke gave Horikita a bright, cheerful smile and then returned to his seat. Shortly afterward, I got an instant message from Horikita.

“So, there you have it.”

It seemed like Horikita had sensed that I was eavesdropping on her conversation with Yousuke.

“Hirata-kun certainly is dependable, isn’t he?” she added.

“For sure,” I replied.

He and Horikita had gotten into a spat once before, but that was in the past now. Yousuke worked tirelessly for the sake of the class, making him very dependable. His communication skills and high intelligence were assets, of course, but his greatest strength was his high degree of trustworthiness. He had a great track record. If Yousuke was involved, people believed he had things in hand. That was exactly why Horikita was willing to discuss her strategy with him so openly.

“We’re at a disadvantage just because we’re Class D. It’s going to be a tough road ahead,” said Horikita.

“Even so, we gotta make do. Good luck.”

“You do realize you have a part to play too, right?”

“You mean the thing with Nanase?”

“Yes. I’d like a response as soon as possible. Tell her that we’re ready to go whenever she is.”

So, she was saying we ought to move quickly and seal the deal. To strike while the iron was hot, as they say. After all, if we didn’t, the other classes would keep taking more and more of the best people out there.

“It’ll probably be the day after tomorrow, though. I have to take care of that other problem first,” I replied.

“Of course. I know that,” said Horikita.

5.4

C LASS ENDED for the day , and we still hadn’t gotten a response from Nanase yet. Even if she did respond now and tell me we were on for today, Horikita and I wouldn’t be able to do anything. There was a more immediate problem that I urgently needed to take care of—namely, the rather sudden promise we’d made Amasawa the other day, to serve her a home-cooked meal.

If I managed to score a passing grade, then we could get her to partner up with Sudou. An extremely enticing offer. But the hurdle I had to clear was by no means low.

When I arrived at the entrance of Keyaki Mall ten minutes prior to the scheduled time of our meeting, it seemed Amasawa wasn’t around yet. So I just stood there, not bothering to check my phone or anything, but just nonchalantly watching the students come and go. Students of all grade levels came into the shopping mall, talking about this or that while they walked around.

The temperature this morning was a little higher than normal, but as evening approached, it gradually got cooler. It seemed the temperature was going to drop a little more at nighttime. Eventually, just when it was about the time we had agreed to meet, Amasawa appeared.

“Perfect, Ayanokouji-senpai,” she said as she approached me with a big smile, nodding several times, as if she were satisfied about something.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You waited at the place you were supposed to, before the girl got there. And you didn’t even like, do anything else, either” said Amasawa.

She was unexpectedly sharp. Or rather, I should say she understood my actions quite well, even the trivial ones. When she said I didn’t do anything else, she probably meant that I wasn’t messing around on my phone or calling anyone while I waited.

Soon, Amasawa would put me to the test. Meaning, I had to serve her a meal. When I considered that fact, I supposed I could have spent the time I stood around waiting for her to look up various kinds of recipes, trying to devise a plan at the last minute.

But, if I had to express it in a way that was easy to understand, that would be like staring intently at your textbook right up until the bell rang on the day of a written test. Of course, looking up information on my phone wouldn’t have violated any of the rules Amasawa had set. However, it probably would’ve made me appear like someone who wasn’t confident in his cooking.

The same went for making a call, which would make her think that I was seeking someone’s help. Therefore, I deliberately chose to do nothing to make it appear as though I were cool and collected. I had intended to try to implant that impression into Amasawa’s subconscious mind, but she had detected what I was doing right off the bat.

“Well then Ayanokouji-senpai, shall we?” said Amasawa, lining up next to me, and quickly taking me into the mall with her.

“To buy ingredients, right?”

“Yep! Well, that too. You gotta buy the stuff for what you’ll make for me. Do you have any cash?” asked Amasawa.

“A reasonable amount.”

In truth, I really didn’t have that much. But I wasn’t going to say anything excessive in front of an underclassman.

“Ooh, yay! I won’t be shy then, in that case. Um, let’s see, I think I’ve heard from my classmates that they sell all the essentials here and stuff, but… I wonder where they keep the shopping baskets?” said Amasawa.

Rather than heading straight for the supermarket, she headed over toward “Humming,” a store that specialized in carrying everything you needed at home. She picked up a blue shopping basket that she found near the entrance to the store. What she said earlier, “that too,” stuck in the back of my mind. I knew I was going to cook a meal for her later, but did that mean there was something else I needed to do besides buy the ingredients?

Amasawa stopped by the kitchenware section of the store. When I first started at this school, I’d come by here a few times to buy the things that I needed. Aside from students, the teachers and other adults who worked in the café and the cafeteria and such also needed these products, so there was a particularly large section of the store dedicated to kitchenware. I remembered not being able to find what I was looking for right away when I first came here.

It seemed like all sorts of new products had hit the market since I’d been here last, which was some time ago. Considering the fact Amasawa had stopped here, I wondered if she was planning to buy some kind of special appliance or utensils. There were countless tools here after all, like peelers, graters, mortars and pestles, etc. Some of those things, of course, I didn’t have.

What I found strange was that Amasawa never asked me what tools or utensils I already had. It would’ve made sense for us to at least discuss what I already had and didn’t have. If she were worried about losing time, we would have had plenty of time to talk about it while we walked around, but I held back my desire to check with her, choosing to let Amasawa run the show for now.

Instead, I tried to bring up a topic that had nothing to do with cooking utensils.

“Do you not cook for yourself, Amasawa?” I asked.

“Me? Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked before. I’m not the kinda person who really cooks and stuff. I’d rather be fed than feed someone else,” explained Amasawa.

Just then, she stopped in her tracks, apparently having arrived at her intended destination. The process so far had gone incredibly smoothly. Amasawa looked away from me, towards\ the shelves of merchandise. She crossed her arms and pondered something for about half a minute, as if struggling to decide something. Then she must have come to a decision because she muttered, “All right,” to herself and nodded.

“Okay, so, first of all, we’re gonna need a cutting board, right? Then, like, a kitchen knife? Then we’re gonna need a bowl, a whisk, and then also, also, we’re gonna need a pot and a ladle,” said Amasawa, throwing the items into the basket one after another as she listed them off.

The last item she tossed into the basket was a big spoon. Apparently, it was called a ladle. I had a hunch that something was off.

“Wait, hold on a second. I pretty much have almost all of those things in my room already though,” I told her hurriedly.

“Oh, no worries, no worries! I’m just having you buy these things for me . For when you cook for me,” said Amasawa.

She was just having me get all these for her…? Even the cutting board she picked out was much better quality that the one I had back in my room. It looked like it was made from Japanese cypress and it cost a little over four-thousand points. The rest of the cooking utensils she picked out were high-quality items, too.

It seemed she still had other items to cross off her list, because she moved over to check out the next set of shelves. As soon as she got there, she picked up a fruit knife without a second’s hesitation.

“For someone who claims to be a good cook, having a good petty knife is a must, right?” said Amasawa in a somewhat casual tone before tossing the item into her basket.

I was a total amateur who had no idea that fruit knives were called petty knives. Oh, and by the way, the petty knife was also a high-priced item, coming in at nearly three thousand points. Even though there were several cheaper options right there on the shelf next to the item she’d picked up, she didn’t pay any attention to them. As far as I could tell, the only differences were whether they included a sheath and whether they were made in Japan.

Once again, the product she’d chosen was quite an extravagant one. Apparently, people skilled in the art of cooking were expected to have mastered handling small kitchen knives like these.

“Hey, uh, just asking, but who is paying for these…?” I asked.

“Oh, come on, you are, of course, Ayanokouji-senpai! Obviously,” she replied.

I already knew that. But the total cost of all these items easily exceeded fifteen thousand points. I supposed that meant I might as well just throw away the cheap stuff I was using now. If I thought about the fact that I could use this high-quality cookware when I cooked for myself in the future, maybe it would help me stomach this?

“Oh, and I already told you this just a bit ago, but remember, you’re buying these to use them for me, and for me only. So don’t go wearing them out with everyday use, okay?” said Amasawa.

“Are you some kind of evil demon?” I asked her, vocalizing my rather unpleasant thoughts.

Unpleasantly enough, it seemed she’d been expecting me to voice my concerns and say something vulgar in the process.

“If you wanna call it off, it’s okay. You can quit any time, y’know,” she teased provocatively, while clutching the edge of the shopping basket.

She was taking ample advantage of the fact that I was in a vulnerable position and couldn’t refuse. Still, if I thought of this as a way to get Sudou partnered with an A-rank student, then fifteen thousand points or so was an incredibly good deal. I just had to think of it that way.

“No, I understand. I accept all of your conditions, so feel free to pick out whatever you want, and I’ll buy it,” I told her.

“Do you think I’m a bad girl?”

“No, I don’t.”

Amasawa stared intently into my eyes. Then, she smiled. I couldn’t tell if that was because she knew something, or because something was eluding her.

“Then we’re all good, senpai,” said Amasawa.

And so I had to buy everything, from the pot to the ladle and everything else. And with the horrifying condition that they all be used only and exclusively for Amasawa.

5.5

A FTERWARD , we went to the supermarket to buy the ingredients, which was the main purpose of our coming to the mall in the first place. In the end, the trip cost me about twenty-thousand Private Points. Needless to say, this was the first time I’d ever bought so much stuff. The plastic bags I carried in both hands were so heavy that the handles were digging into my fingers.

No matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn’t narrow down exactly what Amasawa was going to have me make for her. based on these ingredients. She’d had me buy all kinds of things, from vegetables to meat to fruit. However, there were some dishes I could identify as possibilities. For instance, the fact that she had me buy fish sauce and chili peppers gave me some ideas.

It was just that, well…if she intended for me to use all these ingredients, that would be fine. But it was also quite possible that she was mixing in some extra ingredients to fake me out, just to give me a hard time. Considering the things Amasawa said and did today, I couldn’t help but suspect that was a possibility. It would probably be close to impossible for me to narrow down exactly what she was going to have me do at this current stage.

“All right, that’s everything! Well then, shall we get going back to your room, senpai?” asked Amasawa.

She sounded as enthusiastic as a girl talking about going to hang out with her boyfriend in his room. But there was no way I could feel even a speck of giddiness, myself. After all, if I couldn’t make a dish that satisfied her, this arrangement would most likely be broken off. And on top of that, making delicious food for someone was a rather abstract task. If this was a test where she’d already made up her mind to fail me, then it would just end up being a waste of both my points and my time.

However, I had no choice but to quietly accept these developments for now. I’d never imagined Horikita’s spur-of-the-moment decision could lead to something so exhausting and bothersome. I didn’t discuss things like the cost of ingredients beforehand with Horikita and Sudou, but considering my expenses, I’d like to bring this up to them later. I supposed I’d just tuck that thought in the back of my mind for the time being.

For now, to help me accept this situation as openly as I possibly could, I decided to go ahead and ask Amasawa a question I’d been wondering about.

“Hey, isn’t it kind of strange to want to ask a guy you don’t even know to cook you a meal and feed you, though? I mean, wouldn’t someone normally feel a strong sense of opposition to that kind of thing?” I asked.

That was just my own personal opinion, of course, but I thought most people would feel very reluctant to do such a thing. I mean, you didn’t just look at your food. You actually had to put it in your mouth and swallow it. You’d be concerned about things like taste and hygiene, and therefore, want to know who was making your food, how they were preparing it, and so on. As you got to know a person, a relationship based on trust would form, and those concerns would gradually fade.

“You think? But isn’t it kinda like eating out at a restaurant? I mean, you have no idea what goes on in the kitchen at a restaurant, since the one cooking your meal is a stranger, after all,” said Amasawa.

Well, it was certainly true that we didn’t know exactly how food in the school cafeteria was prepared or anything. But while the restaurant scenario and this situation might seem similar on the surface, they were quite different in reality.

“But even if they’re only making you a single rice ball, restaurants strictly adhere to sanitation regulations. That’s completely different from having some random stranger cook for you, isn’t it?”

“Really? If anything, I feel like I’d rather be in a situation where I could see the person cooking right next to me, though. You can see everything about them then—what they look like, how they move about, how they prepare stuff, everything. You can even tell how careful they are about stuff like hygiene. On the other hand, in some restaurants, you can’t see the kitchen at all, right? I mean, there are some places out there that are super nasty. They’re so unsanitary that they’ve got bugs and stuff , ” argued Amasawa.

She was saying that if she could actually see the person, she didn’t care if he was a stranger.

“Besides, I think I’ve got a general idea of how things work at this school. In the unlikely event that I end up dropping to zero points, I’d have to pinch pennies to get by, right? But I wouldn’t have to worry about all that if I get senpai to cook for me,” said Amasawa.

I see. In other words, if I managed to make something tasty for her now, she was planning to have me do it again. This wasn’t a one-and-done situation. Her intention was to make sure she had a steady meal plan in case of emergency.

As for me, well, I supposed it would be a good opportunity to improve my cooking skills. But I had to wonder if she’d be willing to pay for the cost of the ingredients.

“So, can you see where I’m coming from?” she asked.

“More or less,” I replied.

Amasawa flashed a toothy grin. However, I still had my doubts about whether it was the best thing for her to ask a senior student, and a boy on top of that, to do something like this for her. I would think it would be a lot easier for her, down the road, to make such a request of a classmate or someone of the same sex whom she was good friends with.

Well, I supposed I shouldn’t complain, since I was going to benefit from this.

“Anyway, I am like, super particular when it comes to taste, y’know. So, if it’s not really good, then the deal’s off. Okay?” said Amasawa.

“Yeah, I know. I know just cooking something isn’t enough to meet your requirements.”

It certainly wasn’t a low bar for me to cross, but I just had to do the best that I could. The cooking skills Horikita had taught me in one night would be vital, though I had to wonder how much I’d really be able to make use of techniques I’d learned in the short amount of time since we accepted Amasawa’s proposal yesterday.

Even so, Amasawa probably wasn’t an opponent I could deceive all that easily. I could tell from the ingredients she had me buy that she was eager to put my skills to the test.

Shortly afterward, we arrived at the dormitory building. Amasawa placed her palm over her brow, trying to keep the sun out of her eyes as she looked up at the building.

“I’m actually feeling a little nervous, going into the second-year’s dorms,” said Amasawa.

Even though she said that, she didn’t look very nervous. If anything, she looked like she was enjoying herself. Like she was just going out to have fun, like normal.

“Oh, but I guess the building’s like, exactly the same as ours,” said Amasawa, giving me her impression after taking a long look at the exterior of the building and then around the lobby when we got inside.

“Yeah, I suppose they probably are,” I replied, casually agreeing with what she said, though I had never once gone to the dormitory buildings for the other grade levels before.

We got a few looks as we passed some of the students from the other classes. I suppose that was only natural, since I was walking with a first-year girl (not to mention the fact I was carrying tons of groceries). Amasawa casually waved at the senior students as they passed by, but her doing just drew more eyes to us, so I wanted her to stop it. I hurriedly went into my room with Amasawa in tow before any strange rumors got started.

“Thanks for having me! Oh, wow. It’s, like, super tidy in here. And real clean, too!” said Amasawa.

“Oh, I just cleaned up in a hurry last night, since I was inviting an underclassman over and all.”

I’d done that so she wouldn’t smell anything that would make her think I’d practiced cooking in the middle of the night. Now, then… The next steps were extremely important.

After I set my book bag and the bags containing the food and kitchenware on the floor in front of the kitchen, the first thing I did was start to boil water in the electric kettle. Then I walked into the living room area with Amasawa and encouraged her to take a seat. I could have had her sit someplace where she wouldn’t have been able to see the kitchen, but I deliberately chose not to do that. It was important I ensure she could see me from the side if she looked over at me.

“I’ll put on some coffee. You can go ahead and watch TV if you’d like to,” I told her.

“Thanks, senpai,” said Amasawa.

I proceeded to make her some coffee with the water I had brought to a boil just a few minutes before. I told her to wait a bit before drinking it. Amasawa picked up the remote control I’d left on the table nearby and started randomly flipping through channels.

While it wasn’t an ironclad plan, there was a reason why the sound of the TV was very convenient for me. Subtly guiding her to watch TV and having the remote control placed nearby had been the right decision.

I headed into the kitchen, showing her I intended to get to work as soon as possible. If she casually tried to stand right next to me and monitor what I was doing, I would have had to stop her, but it didn’t seem she was going to do that after all.

“Oh, and looking stuff up on your phone is against the rules, ’kay?” warned Amasawa, looking over at me.

“Man, you’re strict. I think a lot of people look up stuff on their phones while they cook nowadays, though.”

“So you’re not feeling confident?” she teased.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then good. Because in my mind, a good cook is someone who knows recipes by heart,” said Amasawa.

Even though she hadn’t explained any of that to me yesterday, I casually went along with it. I’d already predicted it would be something she looked for.

“In that case, I’ll put my phone next to my bed,” I told her.

I plugged in the charger cable and set my phone down next to my bed. Amasawa nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face, and picked up her cup of coffee.

“I’d like to get this show on the road before it gets too late. So, what am I making?” I asked her.

“All right, I’ll tell you! What I’m going to have you cook, senpai, is… tom yum goong!”

“Tom yum goong…?” I replied.

That seemed to explain why she had me buy fish sauce and chili peppers, since those were considered essential in Thai cuisine.

“Can you do it? Pleeeease, senpai?”

The dish that Amasawa had tasked me with making was tom yum goong. I had never made it before in my life, of course. Actually, I’d hardly ever heard about it, let alone tasted it, in the first place. It wasn’t a dish ever served to us in the White Room. I had seen on TV that it was popular with women, but that was about the extent of my knowledge.

If I were to try and make it right now, relying only on my existing abilities, I’d probably fail. Not only did I not know the specific ingredients needed to make it, but I also had no idea what steps were actually involved in preparing everything.

So what exactly had I done all of last night then, you ask? Well, nothing rash like trying to memorize the recipes of all sorts of cuisines from every era and country. And I didn’t master basic cooking techniques, either. Considering there was the possibility Amasawa might permit me to look at recipes on my phone, it would’ve been nonsensical for me to spend my time memorizing recipes.

Once it was decided that I was going to be the one cooking for Amasawa, Horikita had set two plans of action into motion. The first part of the plan was to teach me the basics. How to handle fundamental tools in the kitchen, like knives and such. I spent most of my time practicing things like slicing, julienning, dicing, and chopping. The techniques that would be more obvious, visual indicators of your skill in the kitchen.

Of course, my skills were nowhere near the level of a professional’s. I was, at best, at around the skill level of an average person who just so happened to know their way around the kitchen a little. It would be impossible for an ordinary person to master cooking in just half a day, but I was confident in my ability to pick up skills quickly. At the very least, I’d probably gotten to the level of someone who cooked several times a week.

I’d been able to accomplish that precisely because I didn’t spend even a second on learning things like recipes or how to cook anything. Of course, that meant there was no way I would know how to make the dish Amasawa had just tasked me with cooking.

Which was where Horikita’s second plan of action came in. A way to check the recipe in real time, using a phone. But Amasawa had forbidden me from looking at my phone, and my poor phone was being held hostage right by my bedside. Even if I had a tablet or something at the ready, hidden somewhere, there was a chance Amasawa might spot it. In fact, she occasionally turned her watchful gaze over in my direction from time to time.

Those things were all factored into our calculations. I took something less than two inches long out of my right pocket, which was in Amasawa’s blind spot. At first glance, it looked like a normal earplug. I casually inserted it into my right ear, where Amasawa wouldn’t be able to see it, then cleared my throat, to give a signal.

Horikita’s voice came from the small wireless earphone that I had inserted into my right ear.

“I’ve heard everything you talked about, loud and clear. I never imagined she’d ask you to make tom yum goong,” said Horikita.

The idea was that Horikita, who had free access to her computer in her room and could look up information, could give me instructions on how to cook the dish in real time. Sudou’s phone was inside the bag placed down on the floor by my feet. And audio streamed from Sudou’s phone to the wireless earphones. I had been on the phone with Horikita since before I went shopping with Amasawa.

During the time that Amasawa and I were shopping at the mall, Horikita went back to her dorm room and got everything in order. The wireless earphone was something we had bought yesterday. In the unlikely event that Amasawa got up and walked over to see how I was doing, I could casually pretend to scratch my head, remove the wireless earphone and put it back in my pocket. Since I was in a position where Amasawa could easily observe what I was doing, that meant that I could see what she was doing, too.

Thanks to all that, I could make this dish without having to worry about the recipe. We had already worked out several signals to use in situations like if Horikita went through her instructions too quickly, or if I needed her to repeat a step. From this point on, how well Horikita and I communicated over the phone was going to be extremely important. Even if I knew what ingredients and utensils I’d be using, I had no visual references to go off of.

I had to cook a dish called tom yum goong somehow, and left on my own, I would have been at a complete loss. What remained to be seen was just how well Horikita could give me specific instructions over the earphone, and how well I could produce something based on those instructions.

“By the way, there’s something I’d like you to check with Amasawa-san first,” asked Horikita, who proceeded to tell me her question through the earpiece.

It would be annoying if Amasawa asked me to make additional things for her later, so I did as Horikita instructed and asked her, repeating the question in my own words.

“Amasawa. You don’t need a whisk to make tom yum goong, and you don’t need to use a Petty knife, either. If you’re going to ask me to make you something else besides that, I’d like you to tell me now,” I told Amasawa, with a glare.

“Well, I was gonna ask you later, but I was thinking of having you peel some apples for me,” replied Amasawa. Apparently, she had been intending to place an additional order. “The rest of the food is stuff for you to enjoy later, senpai. Oh, and as for the utensils that you don’t use this time around, you can use them the next time I pay you a visit.”

It sounded like the petty knife was actually going to see some use today, though I’d originally doubted whether I’d need it at all. But some of the other things were going to go in storage for a while.

“Double-checking was the right call, then. I taught you how to handle the fruit knife the other day. You can manage, right?” asked Horikita.

I had no idea how well I could apply techniques I’d only learned overnight, but I figured I’d probably manage just fine.

“Let’s shoot for about fifteen to thirty minutes of cooking time. Okay?” said Horikita.

Now, then, let’s see just how well I can make this.

5.6

A LTHOUGH IT TOOK SLIGHTLY LONGER than expected, I somehow managed to make the tom yum goong, just as I had been instructed. And now the time had come for me to serve the completed dish to Amasawa. I’d never imagined I’d be serving a home-cooked meal I made myself to someone I’d only just met. And a girl, no less.

I placed the tom yum goong on the table and then came back with an apple in hand. I probably needed to show Amasawa that I could handle using a Petty knife, right in front of her.

“I normally use a regular kitchen knife to peel stuff, so I’m not really used to doing it this way. So I might be a little off , ” I said, putting that out there as something of a disclaimer before I got to work on peeling the apple.

“Wow, awesome! Incredible! You can handle it so well! You definitely pass on knife skills,” said Amasawa.

I was nowhere close to a professional, but I supposed it didn’t look like this was the first time I had ever picked up a knife in my life, at the very least. I laid out the apple slices that I had finished cutting up.

“By the way, when I think of tom yum goong, I usually think of cilantro. Do you not like it or something?” I asked her.

Cilantro wasn’t among the items that she had me buy today.

“Hm, well, yeah. I guess? But I figured that if I had you buy cilantro for me, you would’ve guessed I was going to have you make tom yum goong,” replied Amasawa.

From the sound of it, she had been on her guard the whole time then, and deliberately chosen to skip the cilantro. I supposed that was because she was trying to prevent me from pulling off any tricks, after all. I could understand why she’d tried to avoid giving me opportunities to exploit, but it was still pretty excessive.

“Do you mind if I go ahead and start cleaning up?” I asked her as I brought the cutting board and Petty knife I’d used to cut up the apple back into the kitchen.

“Uh, yes I do mind! You’ve gotta plant your butt right here and wait for my verdict,” replied Amasawa, directing me to sit down in front of her.

Since I couldn’t exactly defy her demands, I gave up on cleaning for the time being, and returned to the living room from the kitchen, as she had instructed me to do.

“All right. Time to dig in!” said Amasawa, slowly bringing a spoonful of piping hot tom yum goong to her mouth.

She didn’t seem to have any qualms whatsoever about having someone watch her eat. But I supposed I was like her in that regard, as I didn’t mind having people around me, either. At any rate, once she was done eating, Amasawa slowly brought her hands together in a gesture to show that she was quite satisfied.

“Thank you for the meal,” she said.

She didn’t seem to have eaten like a bird or anything, considering the bowl looked like it had been licked clean. But, well… though I’d tasted the dish myself before I served it, I had no idea whether the flavor was right. I hadn’t made any mistakes with the measurements or anything, so I didn’t think there were any problems. Even so, if Amasawa said she wasn’t satisfied, then this battle would be over. It would end in our defeat.

“So, senpai, your tom yum goong is…”

Amasawa paused for a moment before giving her judgment.

“Yeah, I guess it’s so-so. It wasn’t particularly tasty or anything, but it was good enough that I don’t think I’d mind having it again,” said Amasawa.

She didn’t touch on the thing I was most immediately concerned about—namely whether I had passed her test.

“Anyway, I’ll help you clean up,” said Amasawa, picking up the bowl and spoon she had used and heading into the kitchen.

She didn’t just clean up her dishes, for some reason. She started to actually help me clean up everything, for real.

“I’ll handle it,” I told her.

“No, no, I’ve got it, really! Besides, I forced you into making all this for me, so let me do at least this much. Take a seat and relax, senpai. I’m definitely no cook myself or anything, but I contribute at home by helping my mom with cleaning up, so I’m pretty good at that part of the job,” said Amasawa.

“All right, then, I’ll take you up on that. Oh, by the way, what’s my score? How’d I do?” I asked her.

Amasawa fell silent for a brief moment as she continued to clean. Only the sound of the evening news on the TV could be heard throughout the room.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. I guess I’ve gotta tell you what your score is. Hm, not sure…” said Amasawa, hesitantly, looking like she was pretending to think it over.

She must not have liked how the ribbon on the right side of her hair was sitting, because she kept adjusting it while she pondered, checking her reflection in her phone, taking the ribbon off and then putting it back on. Not long afterward, she finished adjusting her ribbon, and then proceeded to give me her verdict.

“As I just told you a little while ago, it was so-so. The execution wasn’t bad, and the flavor wasn’t bad either,” said Amasawa.

“So, I just barely passed then. Wow, harsh.”

“Well, I am very particular when it comes to food, y’know,” said Amasawa, looking at me with a big smile on her face. “I guess that means whether I come back here to eat again depends on how hard you work, senpai.”

I supposed that meant my cooking skills weren’t at the level where it made her want to drop by and have me cook her a meal that often, then. Still, “so-so”… That was harsh. I was a little hesitant to ask her if that meant we failed, but I decided to go ahead and do it.

“So does that mean we failed? You’re not going to help with Sudou?” I asked.

“Well, while I can’t really say you passed , it’s true that you can cook. Still, I need to repay you, since you bought all this expensive stuff for me and you did let me eat for free. So I’ll team up with Sudou-senpai, in recognition of your efforts, senpai,” said Amasawa.

It didn’t seem like she was satisfied, exactly, but I’d apparently just barely managed to meet her standards. Just as I was starting to think things were going to get difficult, I was met with welcome news. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll be done cleaning up in just a bit, so hold on a bit longer, okay?” said Amasawa.

I couldn’t exactly just sit there and stare at her while she was hard at work cleaning up, so I just quietly watched the news playing on the TV while I waited. Amasawa came back out of the kitchen shortly afterward, so she must have felt like she’d done the job to her standards. Then, she started fiddling with her phone, showing me the screen all the while. She submitted a partnership request for Sudou. As long as Sudou responded to her request sometime by the end of day, then their partnership would be a done deal.

“Sudou’s busy with club stuff right now, so I’ll let him know what’s up later. Is that okay?” I told her.

Of course, the truth of the matter was that Sudou couldn’t respond right away, since I had his phone.

“Yeah, totally okay. Well, I feel bad for dragging this out so late, so I’ll head back to my room now. See you later, Ayanokouji-senpai,” said Amasawa.

Everything had proceeded without a hitch. She moved toward the exit to head back to her own room.

“Amasawa. I’m grateful to you for pairing up with Sudou. You’re really doing a big favor for Sudou, and Horikita, too,” I told her.

“It’s all right, no biggie. But you can go ahead and shower me with your appreciation still, okay?” said Amasawa flippantly as she put on her shoes.

“If you don’t mind, there is something else I’d like to ask you, since I’ve got you here.”

Just as I was about to come out and ask, though, Amasawa, who’d finished putting her shoes on, turned back to look at me.

“You want to know if I’ll be middleman between our classes, you mean?” she said quickly, without missing a beat.

Well, it wasn’t like she was in Class A and had an academic ability ranking of A for nothing. She was quite quick-witted.

“Yeah, exactly. There are lots of people in our class who are struggling to find partners, like Sudou. If you could introduce us to even just one student who was willing to help, it’d really be appreciated,” I told her.

“Sorry, but I think that’s probably a no-go,” said Amasawa, clasping her hands together and apologizing.

She promptly turned down my request.

“Ah, but it’s not because you or Horikita-senpai did something wrong, okay? I do think I can trust you guys, y’know. But, well, I don’t really get along with my classmates all that well. I mean, when we met up yesterday, I was all by my lonesome, remember?” said Amasawa.

“Now that you mention it, yeah. You’re right.”

Back then, there’d been lots of students going around the mall with their friends. But Amasawa was by herself.

“I guess it’s because people say I lack tact or something, or that I tend to be pretty blunt. It’s kinda hard to make friends with that kind of personality. Which is why I can’t really help you all that much. Sorry, okay?” said Amasawa.

“Nah, the fact that you’re partnering up with Sudou for us is more than enough. If you have any issues, let me know. I might be able to do something to help.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks! Okay then. See you later! Bye bye!”

While I’d failed to establish a connection with Class 1-A, this was probably enough for the time being.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” I muttered to myself.

I hung up Sudou’s phone, which had still been on a call this whole time, then proceeded to call Horikita using my own phone.

“Good work. It seems things worked out well, somehow,” said Horikita, words of gratitude coming out of her mouth almost as soon as I got on the call with her.

“I get the feeling we were saved by Amasawa’s kind-hearted judgment.”

“Even so, this means that Sudou-kun ’s problem has been solved. That was an excellent outcome,” said Horikita.

It was wrong of us to have used such a dirty trick on Amasawa, but in the end, it had helped. All we had to do now was make sure Sudou picked up his phone and accepted the partnership request before time was up. Considering the time, he’d probably be showing up any minute now.

“Why did you ask Amasawa-san to act as an intermediary between our class and Class 1-A, though? Putting aside the matter of her personality and the number of friends she has, didn’t you consider it would be difficult to negotiate with them, since we’re Class 2-D?” asked Horikita.

Horikita had never said anything about trying to work with Class 1-A as part of her strategy for this special exam, simply because it was too difficult to build a collaborative partnership with them.

“I just asked that as a formality. The truth of the matter is that we’re having trouble finding partners. So it would’ve been suspicious if I didn’t say something to that effect,” I replied.

If we appeared as though we had no other options, we’d be giving people the impression we were really grasping at straws when we talked to them and asked for their help. If we didn’t give people that kind of impression, but instead made them think we did have some options, they would suspect we had some other strategies that we were working towards.

“Meaning… you didn’t want Amasawa to realize that we were giving up on Class 1-A from the very beginning, and targeting B and D instead?” said Horikita.

Horikita hadn’t even considered using Amasawa to win her class over to our side, since she’d already decided to focus on those two other classes. This whole time, she’d only been hoping to take advantage of the unexpectedly fortunate opportunity that had fallen into our laps and get a partner for Sudou.

“None of us really know anything about what Amasawa is actually like. Which is exactly why what happened today could end up getting out to the rest of the new students, or even to everyone in our grade level. I took that into consideration. I might just be worrying too much, though.”

After hearing me say all that, Horikita went silent for a few moments.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s just…your thought process, it’s… How do I put it? It’s extremely calculating and clever,” said Horikita.

“It’s not really all that big a deal.”

“No, it very much is a big deal. Sure, it sounds obvious when you spell it out to me like that, but the fact that you thought that far ahead is a different matter entirely. I’m starting to understand why my big brother was paying so much attention to you, I think. But the old you wouldn’t have explained everything to me so clearly. What happened?” Horikita seemed to have some concerns about how I was acting, and the possibility that I’d changed.

“I don’t really have an ulterior motive or anything. Anyway, the next issue is what to do about the remaining students. I’ll let you know when I hear back from Nanase,” I replied.

“Y-yes, you’re right. I’ll be waiting until I hear from you then,” said Horikita.

After I got off the phone with Horikita, I decided to check how things looked in the kitchen. It had been thoroughly tidied up. Not only had the dishes been washed, even the sink and such had been carefully cleaned and wiped down. Everything looked as good as it did when I first came to this room a year ago. The cutting board, dishes, kitchen knife, Petty knife, pot, ladle, etc., that I had used had all been neatly put away. Everything looked perfect.

Even though this whole situation had sprung up out of a proposal Horikita had made, this was the first time I’d interacted so closely with a first-year student. If Amasawa had come from the White Room, it wouldn’t have been surprising for her to try and pull something, but I saw no signs of that. I was certainly quite cautious myself, but I had to wonder.

Considering the way she talked and how she acted, it certainly seemed like she was a normal high schooler. The kind of knowledge she had seemed pretty on par, too. If someone had just left the White Room, it would probably be difficult for them to behave like Amasawa.

“More importantly, Amasawa got paired up with Sudou. I suppose that means that eliminates her as a White Room suspect then, huh?” I asked myself.

That would be my conclusion if I had to make a judgment based on the information available to me at present, including what I knew about which other first-year students had already settled on partners. It was probably too soon to come to such conclusions, though, regardless of who I was talking about.

It did seem like partnering with me would put me on the fast track to expulsion, but that being said, it wasn’t the only way the White Room agent could go about getting me expelled. It was possible that whoever this person was, they were intentionally passing up this big chance to get me expelled, this special exam, in order to find another opening to exploit. Someone couldn’t gain the kind of knowledge a normal high-schooler would have overnight, but it was a different story if they were given more time.

Besides, it wasn’t like there was nothing at all that bothered me about Amasawa. There were some things she’d said and done that stuck out to me. It might not be anything I needed to worry about, but it would be best if I could deal with anything and everything that gave me cause for concern.

I wasn’t just referring to Amasawa by that, either. I was also referring to Housen and Nanase, who I’d most likely be coming into contact with in the future. Out of the many second-year students around, those two made eye contact with me first, right away. Any student who came into such close contact with me should be regarded as suspicious, regardless of whether or not we’d actually had a conversation. And from this point onward, I was going to be venturing into dangerous territory by searching for candidates for partners.

Later that night, I received a message from Nanase. It said, “ Let’s meet tomorrow after class. ”

5.7

T HAT VERY SAME DAY , around when Ayanokouji was cooking a meal for Amasawa, three students from Class 2-A gathered in one place to have a discussion. They were Sakayanagi, Kamuro, and Kitou.

“It happened again. It sounds like the students we reached out to all got invitations from Class C. And on top of that, it sounds like they’ve been offered ten thousand points just to turn down any offers from our class, no strings attached,” said Kamuro, relaying what she was hearing from Hashimoto over the phone. She added her own thoughts. “Wait, ten thousand points just to decide not to partner with us? That’s so dumb.”

Class 2-C was offering a hundred thousand points in advance just to agree to partner up with them. Then, after getting confirmation of a combined score of five hundred and one points or more on the test, Class C would offer another hundred thousand points on top of that, for a total of two hundred thousand points.

“ Fu fu . Well, it seems Ryuuen-kun really intends to throw down the gauntlet with me,” said Sakayanagi.

“So, what are you going to do? Do you want to fight back using points too?” asked Kamuro.

“Well, if we have a contest of financial power, we’d certainly win. But don’t you feel like winning through the same strategy as your opponent lacks a certain artistic quality?” said Sakayanagi.

“A certain artistic quality…? But if we need to be handing out a hundred thousand or even two hundred thousand points, shouldn’t we be getting in on this too? I mean, it’s clear that the new kids think the benefits of getting points is huge,” said Kamuro.

Word had already gone around the school that the new students were in an advantageous position in this exam. A standard had been set where the honors students asked for points in exchange for partnering up with people. After hearing Kamuro’s advice, Sakayanagi simply smiled back at her, but didn’t express agreement with what she’d said.

“So, what? Are you fine with losing, then? To Ryuuen?” said Kamuro.

“First of all, there is quite a significant difference in academic ability between Ryuuen-kun’s class and our own. If he’s going to make up for that difference with the help of the new students, he’ll need to draw on quite a few people to do so. And even if he does manage that, it’s not as though his victory is assured,” said Sakayanagi.

“Yeah, sure, you might be right about that. But that doesn’t mean we’re definitely going to win either, does it?” replied Kamuro.

“Correct. Even if Ryuuen-kun were to gather students with academic ability rankings in the A range, that would make him just barely capable of competing with us, wouldn’t you say? Even if we did nothing at all, I would say that our chances of winning would be a solid fifty percent,” said Sakayanagi.

However, put another way, that also meant they had a fifty percent chance of losing. It wasn’t like Kamuro was getting heated up because she particularly wanted to win or anything, though. It was because she couldn’t possibly believe that Sakayanagi, the girl sitting right in front of her, would just sit there and do nothing.

“What do you imagine might happen if we said we’d pay out the same amount?” asked Sakayanagi.

“What would happen? Well, Ryuuen would pay out even more, yeah?” said Kamuro.

“Exactly. I’m sure he would probably increase what he was offering to two hundred or three hundred thousand points,” said Sakayanagi.

“But if we tried to outbid him, we could definitely get the smartest kids on our team,” countered Kamuro.

“And the cost of doing so would be a fair number of points. There’s really no need for us to deliberately risk losing millions of points. Don’t you agree?” said Sakayanagi.

“So, what, are you saying we can snatch up students even if we offer them less? I can’t really imagine the new kids are going to have a deep understanding of Class A’s reputation, though,” snapped Kamuro, though Sakayanagi still showed no signs that she was going to engage in a bidding war at all.

“I can tell quite clearly that Ryuuen-kun is determined to win first place overall. He seems to have completely changed his policy from last year, when he was simply out for money, like when he made that arrangement with Katsuragi-kun,” said Sakayanagi.

“He was planning on saving up twenty million points so he could win himself, right?” said Kamuro.

“He’s undergone quite a significant change of heart, it seems. He’s realized the importance of Class Points. Well, no. I suppose I should say it’s more that he’s changed gears to make sure his class wins,” said Sakayanagi.

Sakayanagi and Ryuuen hadn’t had a single face-to-face interaction during this special exam yet. However, it almost seemed as though they were discussing things with one another, bouncing strategies off of each other.

“So… you’re fine with this? With not offering to pay up Private Points?” asked Kamuro.

“Oh, my, Masumi-san. I don’t recall ever once saying I wasn’t going to be using points, hm?”

“Huh? But didn’t you just say that competing by using points lacks a certain artistic quality or whatever?”

“I’d like you to pass a message to the new students. Tell Hashimoto that we’re prepared to match Ryuuen-kun’s offer,” said Sakayanagi.

Kamuro pursed her lips at this puzzling order.

“However… even if the first-year students agree to our offer, please do not tell them the deal is sealed,” added Sakayanagi.

“Huh? Wait, what? I seriously am not understanding what’s going on here,” replied Kamuro.

“ Fu fu fu . Ryuuen-kun, your strategy is actually quite convenient for me,” said Sakayanagi to no one in particular.

“For the love of… I have no clue what’s what anymore,” sighed Kamuro.

“Ah come on, what’s the harm? If the princess says we gotta, then we just gotta do what we’ve gotta do, right,” replied Hashimoto over the phone in an amused tone, having been listening in on the conversation the whole time.

“…I mean, I guess it’s fine, whatever,” said Kamuro.

Sakayanagi had instructed her followers not to confirm partnerships, even if they found first-years who agreed to accept the set number of points they were offering. Kamuro couldn’t wrap her head around what it all meant, but she passed the instructions on to Hashimoto, word for word.

Sakayanagi, looking over at Kamuro almost lovingly, seemed to feel a little sorry for behaving too meanly earlier. She started to explain her reasoning, giving her a few hints.

“Ryuuen-kun’s strategy of engaging in an extravagant deal-making spree isn’t necessarily a bad one. By deliberately going around and striking up so many deals with students, he’s succeeded in forcing me to engage with him in a bidding war. However, targeting the same students we already contacted, making us directly compete to recruit them, was a clear error on his part. Since Class C is inferior in terms of overall ability, he should be focusing solely on students with a high level of academic ability,” said Sakayanagi.

However, Ryuuen wasn’t doing that. He wasn’t just trying to reach out to the high achievers, but also to students that Class A was going to need in the future. Students who had skills in areas other than academics.

“Does that mean that he’s got a ton of Private Points saved up or something?” asked Kamuro.

“Well, I have to wonder about that. Even if he does have the minimum points required to pull this strategy off saved up, the number of points he can actually move around might not be all that significant. Understand?” replied Sakayanagi.

“Wait, no, that’d be crazy though. He can only make offer after offer to all these kids because he’s got the points, right?”

“But you can make all the offers you like, even if you don’t have a single point. He only needs to pretend he has the points on hand.”

Kamuro didn’t immediately understand what Ryuuen stood to gain by doing such a thing.

“If it weren’t for Ryuuen-kun, we could have successfully brought quite a number of talented new students over to our side by using our class’s reputation alone. However, he has forced us to engage in a bidding war by trying to buy these students out. And what will he do next? He’ll try to raise the stakes even higher. Try to make us pay lavish sums, as much as we can possibly spend,” said Sakayanagi.

“I see… Huh, so that’s it, then.”

Even if Class A ended up nabbing the most talented students for themselves, the fact that they would be forced into paying two or even three hundred thousand points would work to Class C’s benefit when it came to the competition between the second-year classes.

“But we’re at a disadvantage right now, aren’t we? I mean, he’s been pulling off one success after another,” said Kamuro.

“There’s no need for us to panic at this stage. Some students have been bought up by Ryuuen-kun, that’s all. We can let him feel like he’s winning, feel like he’s got a feather in his cap. He’s made a few errors in judgment. Namely, he underestimates the power of Class A’s reputation. He thinks it can be nullified if we were to stumble. And he’s under the misapprehension that he can get any number of collaborators over to his side if he offers them enough money,” said Sakayanagi.

“I don’t really get it, but everything will work out as long as we do what you’ve told us, yeah?” said Kamuro.

“Yes. That’ll be enough for now,” said Sakayanagi.

“I don’t really like this. I feel like we’re being forced to play along with Ryuuen’s plans. If we keep getting dragged into the messes he creates, I’m not sure what’s gonna happen.”

“Please do not worry. It won’t come to that. We’re going to win this game without any problems.”

Kamuro let out a sigh, once again finding herself unable to wrap her head around what Sakayanagi was telling her.

“There’s no point in trying to rack your brain over it at this point in time, so please don’t let yourself get riled up by Ryuuen-kun. This special exam is nothing more than a prelude. We’re both trying to sound each other out right now, while also keeping each other in check,” said Sakayanagi.

“I can’t wrap my head around any of this. I think I’m about ready to give up,” said Kamuro.

“But… If at all possible, I’d prefer this didn’t end in Ryuuen’s self-destruction. It’s really no fun to finish this so easily,” said Sakayanagi.

She looked out the window, praying that the enemy coming after her was worthy of being her opponent.

5.8

O N THAT VERY SAME DAY , just two hours after Sakayanagi and Kamuro had their discussion, Ryuuen sat with Ishizaki and Ibuki in one of the karaoke rooms.

“Seems like the Class 1-B kid we were hopin’ to snatch up for two hundred thousand has put our offer on hold, Ryuuen-san,” said Ishizaki, reporting his findings to Ryuuen after checking his phone.

“The hell? What, is two hundred large not enough to satisfy ’em or something?” said Ryuuen.

“Well, uh, it seems like Sakayanagi said Class 2-A will offer the same number of points, so…” Ishizaki trailed off.

“They don’t wanna lose to us. How can we even win if we keep playing this game? We’re at a disadvantage,” said Ibuki.

“I think Class A has a bunch of points. So yeah, we probably are at a pretty big disadvantage…” added Ishizaki.

Even after hearing that news, Ryuuen simply fiddled around with his phone. He didn’t seem to be panicking at all.

“R-Ryuuen-san?” asked Ishizaki.

“Relax. I already know everythin’ they’re up to,” said Ryuuen.

He shot a glance toward his empty glass, which prompted Ishizaki to hurriedly fill it back up with water.

“Tell these kids we’ll pay ’em a hundred thousand up front, plus another two hundred after the exam,” said Ryuuen.

“D-dude, seriously?” balked Ishizaki.

A total of three hundred thousand. The number of points being thrown around had grown even greater.

“Most of the newbies probably aren’t gonna come to a decision, though. They’re gonna be waitin’ for Sakayanagi’s counteroffer,” said Ryuuen.

“Wait, aren’t we basically nuking ourselves by doing this?” said Ibuki.

If they became short on funds, then there’d be nothing else they could do.

“Maybe it’s hopeless to compete against Sakayanagi after all… Maybe we ought to try goin’ for second place…” added Ishizaki.

“I think so, too. Even if we had the same number of points to throw around, we’d lose in terms of our class’s reputation,” said Ibuki.

After hearing Ishizaki and Ibuki analyze the situation, Ryuuen laughed. “ Ha ! I’m bettin’ that Sakayanagi chick probably has a smug grin on her face right now, thinkin’ she’s won.”

“She’s just seen right through what you’re doing. Even if you could actually compete with her using Private Points, there’s still the difference in our reputation,” said Ibuki.

“Meh, Class A’s reputation is all show right now, nothin’ more. Considering how much those guys depend on their reputation, the amount of trust they’ll lose when that reputation falls apart is gonna be unfathomable,” said Ryuuen.

“Okay, but even if that’s true, what about the points? I mean, I guess if the offers balloon all the way up to three or four hundred thousand, that won’t be too bad, but there’s no way we can pay everyone,” countered Ibuki.

“Ain’t no need to pay. I ain’t planning on giving anything to these punk kids who keep askin’ for more and more, like the sky’s the limit,” said Ryuuen.

“…Huh?”

“I ain’t planning on forkin’ over any points. I’m sussing out exactly what kinda people these new kids are. You know what they say—money talks. But the people who are willing to cooperate if you put up the cash are the people you can bring over to your side any time. When you really need ’em to help out, just pay ’em, and that’s that. The real important people are the ones who intuitively understand the things other than points,” said Ryuuen.

“I’m sorry, I’m totally not gettin’ any of this…” said Ishizaki.

“Sakayanagi probably thinks I’m after first place overall. But I never planned on goin’ after such a pitiful number of Class Points from the start. If we’re gonna completely crush Class A, we’ve just gotta wait for the right time. The time when Class Points are really gonna fluctuate wildly, way more than now,” said Ryuuen.

“So, does that mean that you did all of this just to find out which of the new kids would roll over for points?” said Ishizaki.

“It was obvious from the start that we could fish for brats with points, if we offered more. But there are already some kids who have partnered up with us. Why do you think they chose to partner up with Class C?” asked Ryuuen.

“Huh… Yeah, actually, now that you mention it, I gotta wonder. Why?” asked Ishizaki.

The first offer that Ryuuen had made was for fifty thousand paid up front, plus an additional fifty thousand after the exam. But even though that offer wasn’t too high, some students had already accepted it and joined forces with Class C.

“That reminds me. You always did meet one-on-one with people when you were making a partnership agreement legit… Were you threatening them or something?” asked Ibuki.

“Well, yeah, a little. You’re right on that count,” said Ryuuen.

So, the students, after being lured in by a generous sum of three or four hundred thousand points, would fold after being interviewed by Ryuuen. In the end, the agreed-upon price was far less expensive than it appeared to be on the surface.

“I’m screenin’ the new kids to see if they can understand that I’m better than Sakayanagi,” said Ryuuen.

He was selecting people who could instinctively identify the winning class without factoring points or reputation into the mix. Those were the people Ryuuen was really looking for in this special exam.

He was looking far into the future, well past the next year. His goal was to take Sakayanagi and the rest of Class A down.