Chapter 7: Quadrilateral of Offense and Defense

Chapter 7: Quadrilateral of Offense and Defense

Chapter 7:

Quadrilateral of Offense and Defense

I T SEEMED LIKE the teachers had taken care of preparations for the special exam the day before, because when I had arrived at school at the usual time in the morning, I noticed that the classroom was arranged differently than usual.

The five desks in the frontmost row where Horikita and some other students sat had been pushed slightly forward, and each of those desks had a tablet and accompanying stylus pen placed on them. Additionally, each desk was sandwiched by partitions to prevent cheating. I’m sure that the tablets were equipped with privacy screen filters in addition to the partitions. The role of the partitions may have been to prevent indirect forms of communication, such as eye contact, for example. Five new desks and chairs were placed in the back behind the last row of desks.

A maximum of five students—the ones who would be nominated—would sit in the frontmost row and solve problems. With the teacher monitoring them closely, it would be difficult for them to cheat.

“Did you sleep last night?” I asked Horikita, who had just taken a seat behind me.

“I slept like normal. There was nothing more I could do anyway, and all that was left was for me to take proper care of my health,” said Horikita.

“You had a fever during our first uninhabited island exam. That was tough,” I replied.

“Shut up. I’ll stab you,” snapped Horikita.

“Sorry,” I didn’t understand exactly why she was going to stab me, but I didn’t like being stabbed regardless. I figured I’d just apologize.

“Feel calm?” she asked.

“Not at all. If anything, it may affect my performance, so I apologize in advance,” I replied.

At the very least, I was certain that neither Sakayanagi nor Ichinose would hit me with a frontal academic attack.

“Sorry, but I will absolutely not grant you protection,” said Horikita.

“Never, huh?” I replied.

Wow, what a position to be in, to be told from the very beginning that I could not receive any protection. She seemed to be half joking, but I thought it best to take her words at face value. Shortly afterward, after confirming that there were no absences and thus all the students in Horikita’s class were present, Chabashira-sensei wished us good luck and left the classroom.

It was becoming customary for these exams to be monitored by a homeroom teacher from another class rather than by their own homeroom teacher as a necessary measure to prevent unfairness. Sakagami-sensei, the homeroom instructor for Ryuuen’s class, appeared in the classroom.

“My name is Sakagami, and I’ll be overseeing your class this time. I will now provide you with information about today’s special exam, the order of attack, and other things of note,” explained Sakagami-sensei.

After giving that short statement in a calm tone, Sakagami-sensei closed his mouth and kept it shut for a long while afterward. He operated the tablet wordlessly, displaying the placement and notes up on the monitor.

SPECIAL EXAM – CONFIGURATION

1: Class A → 2: Class B

↑ ↓

3: Class D ← 3: Class C

NOTES

Trips to the bathroom can only be made during the 10-minute break window held every four turns.

After 10 turns (the first half), there will be a 40-minute break for lunch.

Conversation among yourselves and cell phone use are permitted except when nominated students are solving problems.

Students deemed unable to continue the examination due poor physical health or other circumstances will be treated as an elimination.

Any student found to be cheating will be immediately eliminated and the points that student has earned will be forfeited.

New information was included in the notes section, but there wasn’t anything particularly surprising. Nominated students couldn’t do anything to escape from an attack by faking sick, nor would doing anything that might cause delays be allowed. Unlike a normal written exam, the questions would be different for each participant, so students couldn’t go hide in the bathroom and give each other the answers. Even if you did run into a student from the other class while in the bathroom, it wouldn’t be a problem. It was a pretty lukewarm restriction, and it didn’t matter when you could use your cell phone anyway. The class configuration and the order of attack displayed on the monitor was more important.

First, the turn would begin with Class B—or rather, Horikita’s class—who would attack Ichinose’s Class C. Next, Ichinose would attack Ryuuen’s Class D, and then Ryuuen would attack Sakayanagi’s Class A. Finally, Sakayanagi’s Class A would attack Horikita’s class, completing one loop. That would repeat for a total of ten turns. Then, when we entered the second half of the exam, that order would be reversed, moving counterclockwise. Horikita stared at the monitor to check the flow of attacking and defending, and then immediately directed her attention to her phone. All of Horikita’s strategies against Ryuuen’s class had become unnecessary.

She must have moved on to pulling the offensive and defensive plans against Ichinose’s and Sakayanagi’s classes out of her head. If we were to evaluate the situation only on a superficial level, having Ichinose’s class as one of our opponents was a positive, as they were likely to only take a straightforward approach. On the other hand, facing off against Sakayanagi’s class was a negative. In addition to her class’s overall strength, she had sharp insight and would work on fraying our nerves.

I figured that I would sit back and watch to see how it’d play out. Not that I could actually admit to that level of detachment.

I thought back to the sixteen categories featured in this special exam. I didn’t intend to write off “elimination = expulsion,” but even looking back at the past two years of special exams, it was an unusually rare rule. Someone like me normally wasn’t really at much of a risk. I could make it through the academic category, but I was below average in areas like subcultures and performing arts. Even though we could make three exemptions in advance and protect ourselves, there was still a reasonable chance of encountering a problem that I didn’t know the answer to. I couldn’t rule out the possibility that I could be eliminated.

If Sakayanagi and Ichinose had come to some arrangement before the exam and decided that they’d make me the only elimination and we came in last place, then expulsion would inevitably await. As a student, I didn’t think of this as an unreasonable rule—actually, this exam would be the only way some people would shine. It was a good opportunity for new talent to be recognized.

“Now, we will begin the special exam. On the first turn, this class, the first attackers, will be asked to choose a category and difficulty level and nominate five students,” explained Sakagami-sensei.

Sakagami-sensei gave the signal to begin the special exam. The time limit for one attack and defense was a mere three minutes. That didn’t give us any leeway. We had no time to think, just to communicate what we’d planned. Since we would be spending far longer observing the movements of the other classes, the better course of action would be to hold discussions during those times. The only time we’d hesitate would be when we hadn’t planned for something.

“We’re going in blind at the start. We will proceed as we’ve discussed,” Horikita said firmly as she reached for the tablet that would be the main device. I hadn’t participated in that discussion, so I didn’t have any information on what plan Horikita was going to use. We had to verbally inform the teacher of the category, difficulty level, and nominated students. Sakagami immediately displayed Horikita’s choices up on the monitor.

Category: English

Difficulty Level: 1

Students nominated by the attacker: Kobashi Yume, Watanabe Norihito, Sumida Makoto, Ninomiya Yui, Shibata Sou

The category was English, and Horikita’s target were students in Ichinose’s class who were not academically gifted. It was a solid choice as a first move, one that reflected the core of her strategy—an attack made in a category that we could measure objectively. Since we had zero points, we didn’t have anything to spend to change the difficulty. Even in light of the fact that we were the first class to take a turn, choosing an academic subject was a solid move. Horikita’s class, as well as the other classes, would use their first question as a stepping stone to get a grasp on question trends, the standard difficulty level, and so on.

However, there were many students in Ichinose’s class that had exceptionally balanced academic abilities. All of the students enrolled in her class currently had an Academic Ability score of C– or higher. Inevitably, the question of which students to nominate would be important but knowing who struggled in what subjects could only be determined from past inquiry or through individual interactions.

Aside from their academic standing, though, it would be easier to exploit weaknesses in opponents through irregular categories. Those areas could be deadly for students who were weak in areas like subcultures or performing arts. You’d need courage to attack with that on the first move. Those categories were so irregular that it was more difficult to determine strengths or weaknesses compared to academic categories and harder to figure out the degree of difficulty.

Now then, who would Ichinose protect? I found myself looking forward to finding out. After the defending side’s nominations were over, the screen updated.

Successful protections by the defender: Ninomiya Yui, Watanabe Norihito

“That means that those two people were protected, then?” asked Nishimura, as she looked at the monitor.

“…Yes, that’s what it means. Ichinose-san’s class received two points then, unconditionally. Whether we will earn points or not hangs on whether the remaining three students get the question right,” explained Horikita.

There were three students in Ichinose’s class who had excluded English. Horikita had the right to choose from thirty-six students to nominate, excluding the leader, but the fact that two of the students chosen had been defended because of the protection mechanic wasn’t a happy probability. It was understandable though—Horikita had targeted students who weren’t good at English. Perhaps it was because it was the first turn, but this was a very straightforward gambit. The question that we had assigned to the opposing class was also displayed on the screen for us.

“Rearrange the English words shown in the brackets and add one additional word, so that the English sentence matches the meaning of the Japanese sentence.”

誰も成長するためには、ある程度の苦労が常に必要だ。

[everyone/amount/necessary/always/a/grow/of/hardship/for/is/to]

“Wh-what the heck? Isn’t that, like, really hard?!” wailed Ike, jumping to his feet.

The students who were capable of studying, like Horikita and Yousuke, looked at each other with conflicted expressions on their faces.

“The questions are pretty difficult,” said Yousuke.

“Only if you don’t study,” said Horikita.

Opinion was split in the class on how difficult the question was. Ichinose’s class had an abundance of students who, though not perfect, had a stable level of academic ability. How well would the lower-ranked members of her class perform? The results of the three remaining students from Ichinose’s class who had been tasked with the first question were shown up on the monitor.

Students who answered correctly: Kobashi Yume, Shibata Sou

Together with the points they gained from the two protections earlier, that brought them to a total of four points. A great start. Next, Ichinose’s class attacked Ryuuen’s class. Their chosen category was Economics. Ryuuen succeeded in defending one person; however, nobody else answered correctly, so they had only scored one point. The class’s academic weaknesses were starting to show. I’m sure that was painful for them, but there was no time to be discouraged. We’d get a chance to cancel out Ichinose’s lead by scoring four or more points when it was our turn.

In this special exam, it was important to not let your opponent get protections or get answers correct, but it was also crucial that you get a high percentage of correct answers while on defense—you only scored while defending. Sakayanagi had protected one person from Ryuuen’s class’s attack, and three of her people had answered the question correctly, scoring four points. We’d come to the latter half of the first turn. Sakayanagi’s class was about to begin its attack on Horikita’s class.

“It’s finally time,” said Horikita.

“Yes. I wonder how Sakayanagi-san will attack…” said Yousuke.

The category that Sakayanagi had selected was announced.

Category: Mental Calculation

Difficulty Level: 1

I assumed that the Mental Calculation category would include some problems that were simply adding or multiplying in our heads, filling in the correct figure to get the correct answer, and so on. How challenging would these problems be at difficulty level 1? Surprisingly, there were many students who struggled with calculations in Horikita’s class, so much so that seven people had chosen it as a category to exclude. The issue of handling Kouenji was of bigger concern to me. If we were to assume that keeping the promise Horikita made to him was a prerequisite, then that would mean she had to protect him.

Kouenji had demonstrated outstanding talent in the Uninhabited Island Special Exam, but essentially, he was a free spirit who did whatever he wished and couldn’t be counted on to prep for this. However, there was little reason for the other classes to specifically go out of their way to concentrate on someone like Kouenji, who had a high academic ability and a keen intuition. Still, a promise was a promise. With that in mind, what decision would Horikita make?

Students nominated for protection by the defender: Sonoda Chiyo, Ichihashi Ruri, Okiya Kyousuke, Ike Kanji, Makita Susumu

Kouenji’s name was not among the five students nominated by Horikita for protection. Kouenji, who ignored things like special exams, didn’t even react.

“H-hey, Suzune. Are you sure about this? Not protectin’ him?” Sudou cried out in panic. It seemed like he had been worrying about Kouenji all along.

“This is a special exam in which you only run the risk of expulsion once you have been eliminated. I decided not to protect him until he got two questions wrong. No need to protect him earlier than that.” said Horikita.

“Well, yeah, okay, that makes sense…” replied Sudou. Although he was shocked for a moment, he quickly accepted Horikita’s judgment.

“Now, I am simply stating an alternative, but: Kouenji-kun is free to answer the questions seriously or leave them blank. I trust that’s all right with you?” said Horikita.

The way Horikita said it made it sound like it was essentially an after-the-fact agreement, but Kouenji didn’t seem bothered.

“Do whatever you like,” he replied.

Even though she’d promised that she wouldn’t let him be expelled, she was saying that she couldn’t protect him constantly as if he were a baby. You could say that Horikita’s handling of the situation was a conservative one. Moreover, though he was given assurance that he was free to solve the problems however he wished, Kouenji was at liberty to take an active role in protecting himself. There was always that 1 percent chance of uncertainty, even if he was 99 percent safe. Most people wouldn’t put a noose around their own neck.

Successful protections by the defender: Okiya Kyousuke, Ike Kanji

Students nominated by the attacker: Ishikura Kayoko, Kikuchi Eita, Inokashira Kokoro

Horikita had brilliantly managed to successfully protect two people in her first defense, scoring us two big points. Just doing that had put us in third place at that moment. If all three students about to tackle the upcoming question answered correctly, Horikita would tentatively be in first place, but who could say? The nervous participants took their seats at the front of the class and looked at the question displayed on their tablets. The onlookers watched quietly. Things like whispering to each other were strictly prohibited until the nominated students had finished submitting their answers.

Time Limit: 1 minute

15 × 24 × 16 =?

A multiplication problem. Naturally, there was no choice but to solve it by mental calculation. The problem would be a breeze to do on paper, but much harder to do in your head. Although it seemed pretty easy to me, from the way the nominated students were panicking, it was clear they were struggling to arrive at the answer. The minute passed by in a blink of an eye, and the results showed…one student answered correctly.

Only Ishikura had answered the question correctly. The other two returned to their seats apologetically. Sakayanagi’s choices in the first round were quite interesting, which made me curious. Of all the students in Horikita’s class, Ishikura was the best at mathematics. Even if mental calculation wasn’t exactly the same category, they were related enough. There was no need for Sakayanagi to take the risk of her opponent getting a correct answer. Even factoring in the seven who had excluded the category, there were several other weak students she could have targeted.

It wasn’t impossible that Sakayanagi was simply ignorant of Ishikura’s abilities; Sakayanagi had seen Ishikura tackling math problems in our final exams at the end of our first year. It was difficult to imagine that Sakayanagi would have overlooked that. Was it possible that Sakayanagi decided that a student who was good at performing calculations, like Ishikura, wouldn’t be defended? Maybe she’d chosen Ishikura to test her.

The first turn ended. A not-too-shabby three points gained right out of the gate. It was on to turn two, Horikita once again notified the instructor of the five students that she was selecting as the attacker. Ichinose’s class failed to defend anyone we chose, but two of their students answered correctly, bringing them to a total of six points. One student was protected in Ryuuen’s class and one person answered correctly, bringing their total to three points. One student was protected in Sakayanagi’s class, and three students answered correctly, so they now had eight.

The gap between the classes was already widening in the second round. Then came time for Horikita’s class’s second round of defending. This time, Sakayanagi changed her choice of category from Calculation to Gastronomy, with a difficulty level of 1. I had no idea what gastronomy was, but I was sure that Horikita knew and had prepared accordingly. Horikita decisively notified Sakagami-sensei of which five people she’d chosen for protection.

Successful protections by the defender: None

Students nominated by the attacker: Kouenji Rokusuke, Hasebe Haruka, Hirata Yousuke, Yukimura Teruhiko, Onodera Kayano

Unfortunately, all of Horikita’s choices for protection had been in vain. Kouenji’s name was listed among the five nominations as early as the second round. This was a lengthy battle, and even Kouenji was likely to be nominated in at least one round. That in itself was nothing special, but what was important was whether Kouenji could defend himself without help.

“When eating French cuisine, what does it mean when the knife and fork are placed on top of the plate, with the bottoms of the utensils pointing at 4 and 8 o’clock?”

It was a simple etiquette question, which I could have answered even before my education at this school. However, Kouenji got it incorrect as he’d left the answer field blank. From behind him, I saw he hadn’t even picked up his stylus. As for the four other students, unfortunately, it looked as though Keisei had mistakenly given the wrong answer; he smacked his desk in frustration immediately after the correct answer was announced. The results were disappointing, but our class still received three points—we were up to six.

“Hey, I saw that, Kouenji! I knew you weren’t gonna take this seriously…!” snapped Sudou.

He wasn’t screaming his head off in a rage or anything, but Sudou was angry. His snappy reprimand came across more like he was scolding Kouenji on behalf of the class rather than venting a personal frustration. If Kouenji wasn’t going to even try to solve the problem, it was no wonder Sudou felt frustrated.

“No need to blame me. If you are dissatisfied, simply protect me moving forward,” said Kouenji.

“Damn it. You’re so selfish,” said Sudou.

His disapproval was understandable, but until Kouenji got a second question wrong, Sudou didn’t have to worry too much about it. The class probably felt a sense of security with Horikita, who was unconcerned despite Kouenji’s refusal to answer any questions. It would’ve been a problem if Horikita didn’t keep her promise and made it her mission to expel Kouenji, but she probably didn’t want to use her precious protection slot without a good reason. Horikita stood confidently; Kouenji glanced over at her for a moment, grinned, and returned to his own seat. Meanwhile, Keisei, who had answered the problem incorrectly simply out of ignorance, came over to Horikita to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Horikita. Maybe it was because I was nervous, but the answer just didn’t come to me… I should have known it,” he said.

“I’m not that worried about you. If they attack you again in the same category, I’ll defend you when the time comes, okay?” said Horikita.

Sakayanagi would not overlook an opening to exploit. That was why Keisei, aware of the danger and solid in his faith Horikita would protect him, nodded meekly to her, to which she responded with a nod of her own.

The battle had begun in earnest. Every time a problem was posed, the students would concentrate wholly on their cell phone screens, coming up with their own countermeasures.

But while the leaders didn’t have to worry about being nominated, they had less time to rest than anyone else. How would you submit questions to your opponents? How prepared were you to adapt to the moment and change your nominations? Horikita, having little time to so much as speak, hurriedly scrawled notes in her phone or, at times, in an open notebook. Then came Sakayanagi’s attack for the third turn.

Once again, it was the Gastronomy category. The difficulty level remained the same, at one. I had thought that Sakayanagi wouldn’t have chosen the same category because the previous question had been an easy one, with three students answering correctly, but apparently our opponent had a plan. Did Sakayanagi see Kouenji and Keisei’s mistakes as an opportunity to exploit? They were both powerful classmates. Horikita had chosen to protect Keisei, just as she had told him she would before, and had then selected her remaining four nominations. However…

Successful protections by the defender: None

Students nominated by the attacker: Kouenji Rokusuke, Miyamoto Soushi, Ijuuin Wataru, Satou Maya, Azuma Sana

This was the second time in a row that Sakayanagi had nominated Kouenji, and the other four nominations were completely different. Keisei hadn’t even been targeted.

“She read me like a book…” said Horikita.

That was exactly right—attacking and defending was a matter of reading your opponent’s moves. If you attacked in the same category, it was a given that the defender would take action to prevent an elimination. There would be no point in targeting Keisei since there was a possibility that he would be protected. However, the same was also true for Kouenji. How did Kouenji and Keisei differ in Sakayanagi’s mind? And how had she been so accurate? One thing was certain: Sakayanagi had gotten a good read on our class’s mind.

Kouenji stood up from his seat once again and walked proudly to the front.

“Kouenji-kun, I can’t force you to make a promise to the class. However, I think that it would be safer for you to answer correctly,” said Yousuke.

Once all the nominated students were seated at the designated desks and it was time to answer the questions, private conversations amongst the audience were strictly prohibited. Yousuke had no other choice but to make his plea while Kouenji walked past. However, Kouenji had no doubts he’d be protected in the following rounds, so once again his answer was blank. His classmates couldn’t contain their emotions at the sight of this, but the other four students answered correctly.

The issue of the third turn was simpler: a commonsense problem. If Kouenji had done what he was supposed to, our class would have had the chance to get a perfect score even if he wasn’t offered protection. No one could really feel happy about that. The ranking as of the end of the third turn was as follows: first place, Sakayanagi’s class, eleven points; second place, Horikita’s class, ten points; third place, Ichinose’s class, nine points; last place, Ryuuen’s class, five points.

If Kouenji had done his best, Horikita’s class would have been in the lead with twelve points. As long as Kouenji was only looking out for himself, there was nothing we could do about it. Sakayanagi’s class had taken a solid lead right away since the exam began and firmly held onto first place. I’m sure Ryuuen had wanted to put a stop to that, but in the first half of this exam, all he could do was watch. Everything depended on his skill. However, Ryuuen’s class was lagging both on the offense and defense—they were really struggling.

It seemed representative of the pure academic ability of the students rather than anticipating each other’s moves or luck. Then came the fourth turn, Horikita’s defense.

Category: Gastronomy

Difficulty Level: 2

Sakayanagi had unexpectedly chosen to go with the same category for a third time in a row. This time, however, the difficulty level had been raised to 2. She was spending a point to go in for the kill.

“Gastronomy, again? What is Sakayanagi thinking?” wondered Sudou.

The students were preoccupied with Sakayanagi sticking with the same choice of category rather than the issue of the difficulty level. With Kouenji reaching elimination soon, did Sakayanagi intend to go on the offensive? This was the first time that anyone had increased the difficulty level in any of the classes—it was an experimental attack.

“They won’t go after Kouenji again…will they?” asked one student.

“Do you really not get it? I think they might see this as a chance to get rid of Kouenji-kun,” replied another.

Kouenji, after deliberately refusing to answer questions in the Gastronomy category twice in a row, no longer had any way out. Should Horikita protect him now that he was in danger of elimination? Or should we guess that Sakayanagi deliberately wouldn’t go after Kouenji, because he was already close to being eliminated, and thus would be protected? No, Sakayanagi’s choice of category was clearly influenced by her target, with Kouenji dead center.

Our situation was different from those of the other classes. It was an issue that went beyond tactics. If Kouenji were to refuse to answer again, he would be the first elimination in our class. Since Horikita had promised to protect him well in advance, she had no other choice but to do so if she wanted to keep her promise. If the opponent came at us and selected Kouenji, we could get a point by choosing to protect him.

All eyes were on Horikita.

Kouenji’s name was not among the five she mentioned.

Successful protections by the defender: Shinohara Satsuki, Sudou Ken

Students nominated by the attacker: Kouenji Rokusuke, Sotomura Hideo, Miyake Akito

Our classmates, who had watched in relative silence up until this point, were visibly bewildered.

“H-Horikita-san?” said Yousuke.

Yousuke was most surprised of all. He’d never doubted her for a moment, and now he leaped to his feet.

“You sure about this, Suzune? I mean, if Kouenji messes this one up, he’s eliminated, right?” said Sudou.

Sudou was similarly shocked. However, Horikita just quietly stared ahead. The only person whose facial expression didn’t change a bit at this turn of events was Kouenji—the very person who should have absolutely been panicking.

“Heh heh heh . You’re really giving it to me, eh, Horikita Girl?” said Kouenji.

To people who didn’t think about the matter too deeply, it looked like Horikita had abandoned Kouenji, that she was someone who went back on her promises. It was a betrayal. I couldn’t say throwing away the trust of the class was the best course of action, considering everything that had happened since the Unanimous Special Exam. Kouenji said nothing further and sat down at the front like the other students.

The problem that they were presented with was certainly more difficult than the previous two. I caught glimpses of students exchanging glances and cocking their heads to the side in confusion. I didn’t know how much Kouenji knew about gastronomy, but there was an uneasy feeling in the air. The young man who hadn’t even picked up the stylus pen the previous two times had finally made a move. Watching him, I got the impression that his hands moved swiftly, not even a hint of hesitation. But would his answer reflect that confidence?

Students who answered correctly: Kouenji Rokusuke

Kouenji’s name appeared in the list of students who gave correct answers for the first time. He’d managed to avoid elimination.

“Wow, so someone was worried after all, huh?” hollered Sudou. He was teasing, but there was also a note of relief in his voice. Even those who disliked Kouenji didn’t want him to be eliminated.

“You have an active imagination,” said Kouenji.

I didn’t know what Kouenji was thinking, but his reaction was sensible. One more wrong answer and he would’ve been a candidate for expulsion. What concerned me was Horikita. Even if Horikita assumed that Kouenji would’ve taken the problem seriously if he were backed into a corner, had Kouenji gotten it wrong, things would’ve been bad.

Horikita needed to defend him, even if she were confident that he could’ve answered correctly. The class was clearly anxious, but not even Yousuke could make sense of it. The only exception was, of course, the young man in question. Kouenji walked past me, to my side, and stood in front of Horikita.

“If you have an explanation, I’d like to hear it,” muttered Kouenji.

“Explanation? For what?” asked Horikita.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” After seeing the steel in Horikita’s eyes, Kouenji smiled.

“You weren’t eliminated. You shouldn’t be worried about being expelled, right?” said Horikita.

“I would have been eliminated had I not answered correctly. So what are you playing at?”

“But you got it correct,” said Horikita.

“Heh heh heh. Yes, you’re right, I did. Excuse me. It appears as though I’ve hastily jumped to a conclusion.”

“If we’ve cleared up your misunderstanding, could you please return to your seat? You’re blocking the monitor,” said Horikita.

Their conversation seemed to imply that Horikita had abandoned Kouenji, and it did nothing to quell everyone’s bewilderment, apart from perhaps Kouenji himself. I could have done something to reassure the students by explaining Horikita’s thinking and the usefulness of not protecting Kouenji, but I remained a neutral observer.

Horikita chose not to reassure anyone; she had other aims. In fact, she didn’t even bat an eye at their confusion. She didn’t nominate Kouenji as a candidate for protection during Sakayanagi’s attack on the fifth turn, either. However, Kouenji’s name also disappeared from the list of targets to be attacked.

From the perspective of the other students, Kouenji would have been a good target to choose, as they would have seen this as their chance to eliminate him. After all, he wasn’t being protected. However, Sakayanagi chose other targets. Kouenji had been the only person to correctly answer the problem in the gastronomy category with a difficulty level of 2, so it was possible that Sakayanagi had recognized Kouenji was too tough to pick off and chose another tactic. Many of the students here likely had this misunderstanding of the situation.

Kouenji had answered the question using his own knowledge. This meant that Sakayanagi could no longer expect he’d make mistakes, which in turn meant that Horikita took a risky gamble that could have cost her the trust of her allies. This time, however, Kouenji’s name was not on the list of candidates.

Horikita’s face clouded over upon seeing this. “I guess our opponent won’t fall for it so easily…” she said.

Because I was seated in close proximity to Horikita, I overheard her muttering to herself. During the first half of the battle, the turns flew by, and I enjoyed the action. The number of students who made mistakes steadily increased as time went by, and finally, at the end of the seventh turn, Ishizaki from Ryuuen’s class went down as the first student to be eliminated. In the following turn, turn eight, Sotomura and Ijuuin from Horikita’s class were eliminated simultaneously, while Isoyama and Yano from Ryuuen’s class were the next to go in that same turn. Then it was Kamuro from Sakayanagi’s class. By the end of turn ten, the first half, Hondou from Horikita’s class, Morofuji from Ryuuen’s class, and Yamamura from Sakayanagi’s class had been eliminated.

HALFTIME RESULTS

1ST PLACE – Sakayanagi, Class A – 29 Points – Eliminations: Kamuro, Yamamura

2ND PLACE – Horikita, Class B – 28 Points – Eliminations: Sotomura, Ijuuin, Hondou

3RD PLACE – Ichinose, Class C – 24 Points – Eliminations: None

4TH PLACE – Ryuuen, Class D – 19 Points – Eliminations: Ishizaki, Isoyama, Yano, Morofuji

Nine eliminations in all. That might’ve sounded like a lot, but it would get even more brutal in the second half. A number of students had eaten up two of their three allotted mistakes. Ichinose’s class was the only one that still had zero eliminations. At first glance, that appeared to be a fine play on Ichinose’s part, but appearances could be deceiving.

“Your strategy worked well, Horikita-san,” said Yousuke, coming over to congratulate her.

“I knew that her stance wouldn’t change, even on this special exam. I’ve managed to box her in,” said Horikita.

I wondered how many of our classmates had noticed what was happening as Horikita unleashed her strategy against Ichinose. The reason the number of eliminations in her class remained at zero was because Horikita intentionally kept the number of students within range of being eliminated to five. Ichinose would absolutely protect her classmates. Knowing that, Horikita had distributed her attack nominations to avoid creating a sixth person in range of elimination.

Ichinose, on the other hand, seemed to have continued to protect those five students in danger of elimination, even though she knew Horikita would spread out her attacks. After those five students had gotten to that point, Ichinose hadn’t gotten even one successful protection because she was protecting them instead. She didn’t want to risk leaving the five students at risk of expulsion, after all.

“She really doesn’t back down. It was a ridiculous long-term strategy. Even if she could defend them in the first half, it’s going to get much, much more difficult later,” said Horikita.

Illustrating her point was the fact that Ichinose’s class had the highest number of students who had gotten one question wrong out of the four classes.

“In the second half, Ichinose-san will have to defend her classmates from Ryuuen-kun. I’m sure that will be painful,” added Yousuke.

“There is the option of abandoning protecting those five in the second half of the exam, she could just do that, but…” said Horikita.

Even so, this was Ryuuen. He wasn’t strategic either.

“Anyway, it’s down to us. We have a good chance to eke out a one-point win,” said Horikita.

Sakayanagi’s class had pulled far into the lead early on, but Horikita was nipping at her heels. By herself, Horikita seemed a half step behind when it came to anticipating Sakayanagi’s moves, but her classmates were skillfully making up the gap.

“Regarding the rate of questions answered correctly, putting aside cases of successful protections, it seems that the school expects that approximately half of the students will be able to answer each problem. When the difficulty level increases by one, the rate of correct answers is 20 percent, and when it’s at difficulty level 3, it drops to about 10 percent or so,” said Horikita.

At a difficulty level of 3, we couldn’t reliably expect anyone to get a correct answer, but that option wasn’t used too often because it cost two points. If the opponent defended from it via protection, that would result in a big loss. I imagined it wouldn’t be used too frequently even in the latter half of the exam. The battle for the top spot was the most interesting part, yes, but the struggle to stay out of final place was also heating up. Ryuuen’s class was in a particularly tight spot.

Assuming that the trends we’d seen continued, and assuming that more people would be eliminated, the line to cross for first place would be somewhere between fifty and fifty-five points. In the second half alone, Ryuuen would need to gain at least thirty points just to survive. Generally, students with high academic ability tended to be more difficult to target; however, they were difficult to protect too. We saw a smattering of students who got something wrong in unexpected categories.

It also seemed like questions in areas not related to academics, like subcultures and gastronomy, were often easier than those related to academics, even when they were technically set at the same difficulty level. Incidentally, I got a question wrong once myself in an academic category. The question was “What is the animal that was bred in a zoo and became a worldwide sensation because of how cute it looked when it stood up on its hind legs?” from the News category.

I had no idea what animal it was, so I just randomly wrote “dog” as my answer, which prompted an icy look from Horikita.

The correct answer was red panda.

7.1

W HEN IT CAME TIME for our lunch break, I told Horikita to give me a few minutes of her time and brought her out into the hallway.

“It was a red panda, okay?” snapped Horikita.

I never imagined that she would take me to task for something like that right away. “That’s not what this is about. I’m curious about a few things,” I replied.

“It was a joke. What is it you need? Advice?” she asked.

“Nothing worth calling advice, really, but did you notice how the nominated names are displayed?” I asked.

“No… To be honest, I haven’t been paying any attention to the order. It wasn’t in alphabetical order or in order of boys first and then girls afterward, was it?” asked Horikita.

“I can’t say for certain what the order is without hearing what the other classes said when they were attacking, but there was no systematic rule on the school’s part at all when you had nominated your five, Horikita. That means they were likely shown in the exact order in which the leader said them.”

“I see. You might be right about that. So?” asked Horikita.

“What got my attention were Sakayanagi’s nominations from turns two through four in the first half of the exam. Kouenji was targeted three times in a row, and in every case, he was the first one nominated,” I explained.

“So she decided to go after Kouenji-kun by the second turn, and she continued to pick him first until he answered a question correctly…? If I remember right, Yukimura-kun got the question wrong on the second turn too, didn’t he?” asked Horikita.

“Yes, he did. Kouenji would be a threat as well if you looked at him in terms of his abilities alone, but overall, Keisei should be seen as more of a problem. Yet, Sakayanagi didn’t even nominate Keisei on the third turn, after he had made a mistake,” I answered.

“Don’t you think that she’s simply not so good at anticipating my moves? She might’ve decided that I’d protect Yukimura-kun because I thought he was important, right?”

“Yes, it’s true that in Keisei’s case, she might have removed him from her list of targets for that reason, but that doesn’t explain what happened with Kouenji. During the first half of the exam, he got the question wrong twice in a row, on turns two and three, and then answered correctly on turn four. His name didn’t show up even once after that point. If he were being defended via protection, that would make sense, but he got the question right on his own on turn four. Which means that we had never protected him once. Our opponents would’ve known that, too,” I answered.

“Sakayanagi-san initially had her sights set only on Kouenji-kun. She had gotten him in range of elimination after he had answered incorrectly twice, but she simply stopped attacking once he had gotten one question correct. Very unusual,” mused Horikita.

It would be better to eliminate as many students as possible. If there was a good chance that he was not going to be protected, then Sakayanagi should have kept attacking.

“Is she perhaps wary of his knowledge?” asked Horikita.

“If so, she wouldn’t have attacked Kouenji from the very beginning. It doesn’t explain why she nominated him three times in a row,” I replied.

“…Is Sakayanagi-san aware of the promise that I made to Kouenji-kun?” asked Horikita.

“I think that’s a safe bet. With that promise in hand, Kouenji wouldn’t take this exam seriously. She must have calculated that you wouldn’t have defended him until he got two questions wrong,” I replied.

The chances that Kouenji would have taken the questions seriously from the start or that Horikita would have defended him right away weren’t zero. Sakayanagi would have changed strategies in that case.

“Why didn’t she target him from turn five on, then? I had chosen not to protect him then, remember?” asked Horikita.

“She didn’t precisely because you made that choice. If her intention was to make you get rid of one of your protection slots by using it on Kouenji, and that plan was no longer viable, she must have felt like it was a waste of time—disadvantageous to her, in fact,” I reasoned.

“Even though we lose a point if someone is eliminated?” asked Horikita.

“Yeah. You said as much yourself before the exam. You said that you had a plan in place to minimize the damage in the event that our class came in last place. That option was to let Kouenji be eliminated, wasn’t it?”

“…So you knew.”

“Your promise with Kouenji was that you wouldn’t ‘expel’ him. You’d let him be ‘free.’ In this special exam, you haven’t asked anything of Kouenji, so it goes without saying that you’ve kept your promise to give him his freedom. As for the other part, about you not expelling him…hypothetically, if Kouenji were to be the only one to be eliminated, he wouldn’t be expelled if he uses his Protect Point. Problem solved,” I answered.

Kouenji had won that Protect Point on his own, by winning in the Uninhabited Island Exam, granting him the right to nullify an expulsion.

“That’s right. I hadn’t promised that I would protect Kouenji-kun’s Protect Point. As long as he isn’t expelled, I’ve fulfilled my promise. He would have no right whatsoever to resent me over it,” said Horikita.

Even though we would lose one point for an elimination, all Horikita would have to do is strip away Kouenji’s Protect Point. There would be no risk of anyone getting expelled if we were in last place in that scenario.

“I’m sure I worried everyone, though,” said Horikita.

“If you did explain, Kouenji would know what you’re trying to do, right?” I answered.

“Yes. But he seemed to catch on right away. Personally, it would have been easier for me in the second half of the exam if he had been eliminated early.”

That was why Kouenji had answered correctly on his own—it would have annoyed him to have his Protect Point stripped away.

“It’s reasonable to assume that, because of Sakayanagi’s personality, she decided that she didn’t want to erase the pressure of possible expulsion from our class, Horikita.”

“Her personality comes through in every one of her actions. But why didn’t Kouenji-kun give correct answers right from the start?”

“Not even I know the answer to that question. Maybe he just decided he could hold out until the third question. Anyway, there may be students in the class who are leaking information.”

That was invaluable to keep in mind, not just for the special exam but for after as well.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” said Horikita.

“That’s all I needed to say. What are you going to do for lunch?”

“I didn’t have the time to make one, so I think I’ll go to the cafeteria today. What about you?”

“I think I’ll do the same. Kei will probably be staring at her phone the entire time,” I replied, turning toward the classroom as I said that.

Horikita nodded in apparent understanding. Kei had gotten through the first half of the exam unscathed, as she hadn’t been nominated by Sakayanagi even once. However, I couldn’t say that came as a relief to her. In as few as three questions, she could join the ranks of the eliminated. She probably wanted to drill as much knowledge as possible into her head, even if it was just a stopgap measure.

7.2

T HE SURVIVAL AND ELIMINATION Special Exam had begun, and was progressing slowly. Ryuuen weathered his first attack from Ichinose’s class, but with only one out of five protections being successful and no students answering correctly, no one felt especially good about it. That was understandable: academics were a weak point in Ryuuen’s class.

Even putting aside the students who had excluded Economics, the category that Ichinose had chosen, nearly half of the students in Ryuuen’s class felt anxious about the category. On the other hand, Ichinose’s class, which had been attacked by Horikita’s class, had scored a total of four points. A three-point gap had already opened by the end of the first turn, and a gloomy feeling hung over the class. However, that wasn’t because they didn’t gain points.

“Okay then! As the attacker, who do you plan to nominate from Class A?” said Hoshinomiya, cheerfully guiding the leader.

But Ryuuen didn’t budge. He stared at his cell phone in calm silence.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” asked Hoshinomiya.

She called out again from the podium just to be sure, but Ryuuen remained still. As was understood from the explanation of the rules, the nomination time was steadily ticking away, one second at a time. Though Hoshinomiya figured that Ryuuen would have surely decided on who they would attack on the first turn and belt it out, Ryuuen still hadn’t moved in the first minute. Normally, you would’ve expected to hear the voices of classmates piping up with people asking, “Are you okay?” but no one did.

Even if the majority of people in this class wanted to say something, they couldn’t. Now, in battle, Ryuuen exuded an even more overwhelming and intimidating air than ever before. It was rare for Hoshinomiya to see Ryuuen’s class so tense. Ryuuen’s classmates, however, were a little more used to it—this was an everyday occurrence. It was something they saw all the time. It would’ve been quicker if Kaneda, the general adviser, made a move on Ryuuen’s behalf, but since he tended to wait for instructions from Ryuuen, no one was bothered by his silence.

At times like this, uncertain classmates tended to turn their eyes to Katsuragi. Although he was a transfer from another class, the students considered him Ryuuen’s chief strategist. In addition to Katsuragi’s overall strengths in OAA, he didn’t cower before Ryuuen’s surly temper. If all it took were defiance, Ibuki would have qualified, but in Katsuragi’s case, he had reasons for acting the way he did.

Katsuragi, the person the other students would usually turn to, didn’t move a muscle. With eyes closed and arms folded across his chest, he allowed time to pass while he was on the attacking side. Had he figured that calling out to Ryuuen in this situation wouldn’t change anything and thus gave up on even trying? Or was he merely confident? In either case, the students could only watch in silence.

“Hey, listen, it’s still only the first turn, okay? Three points isn’t that big of a difference, so you shouldn’t get too worked up about it,” Hoshinomiya said, offering them encouragement.

They just hadn’t pulled ahead on the first attack, that was all. It might have seemed a little biased, but she couldn’t remain silent in the face of the students before her and their anxieties. That was her official stance, anyway.

In reality, if Sakayanagi’s class pulled too far ahead, it’d be hard for Ichinose’s class, the class that she was in charge of, to win. If Sakayanagi’s class continued to win high scores time and time again with their cowardly strategies, her own class would have no chance of winning. It was a calculated move on her part to say something, but as Hoshinomiya watched the class continue in silence, she realized that she had made an error in judgment. Even though many students questioned Ryuuen’s lack of action, few actually felt anxious about it. Normally, silence often brought about negative consequences, but in this class, it was a unique strength they had cultivated.

Hoshinomiya accepted the unusual situation: with nearly two minutes having passed now and still no attempt to so much as utter the names of their nominees.

That silence holds secrets. Hoshinomiya started thinking that way for the first time. In that brief moment, what fantastic strategy would they come up with? An ideal set of nominations against Sakayanagi’s class, where they would fail to protect anyone and get many of the questions wrong?

When the countdown neared thirty seconds remaining, Ryuuen gave Hoshinomiya the five names.

“O-oh, w-w-wait a minute! Let me enter them,” said Hoshinomiya, quickly tapping the names in.

Category: Everyday Life

Difficulty Level: 1

Students nominated by the attacker: Kitou Hayato, Kamuro Masumi, Hashimoto Masayoshi, Machida Kouji, Yamamura Miki

Hoshinomiya hurriedly finished inputting the information but was astonished by the choices. Ryuuen had picked students who were close to Sakayanagi.

Successful protections by the defender: Machida Kouji

In the end, after all that consideration, one person had been protected. The problem was what came after.

Students who answered correctly: Kitou Hayato, Kamuro Masumi, Hashimoto Masayoshi

Three of the four remaining students had answered correctly. That meant Ryuuen’s class had given the opposing class four points while he had only gotten one. A bad start. Not much could be expected from them. Hoshinomiya had been impressed as she looked at the students, who seemed surprisingly calm, but now, inwardly, she had taken that feeling back. She realized that they weren’t as good as she thought after all, and it was unlikely that they’d be able to crush Sakayanagi’s class.

From that point onward, you couldn’t say that Ryuuen’s strategy had been skillful, even if you were feeling especially generous. Most of the people he had nominated had been the same people he’d nominated in the first turn. Although he occasionally switched it up, possibly as a diversion, he continued to nominate Kitou, Kamuro, Hashimoto, Yamamura, Machida, Sanada, Satonaka, and Matoba once every two turns or so. Sakayanagi started to predict his pattern and adjusted protections accordingly.

Even so, Ryuuen didn’t drastically change his nominations. He just spent more turns at the bottom of the rankings. On the fifth turn, the midpoint of the first half of the exam, Hoshinomiya noticed something inexplicable. Even though some students had already answered two questions incorrectly and they ought to be panicking…

“They’re all so calm,” she muttered.

They couldn’t get themselves out of last place because they had a weak defense. Since they clearly had a lower percentage of correct answers to problems compared to the other classes, they weren’t earning points where they should have been. However, even in this situation, few students were feeling nervous. Hoshinomiya strolled around the classroom, pretending to monitor them, and casually peaked at each student’s phone.

They weren’t just playing around, but rather, they were browsing various websites and checking out videos to study the categories they were weak in. Was it simply that they were too nervous to speak up? Or maybe because they were under Ryuuen’s control? That thought had occurred to Hoshinomiya too, but…

“Kaneda-kun, it doesn’t appear that you’re doing anything. I assume you are fully prepared, yes?” asked Hoshinomiya, suddenly reaching out to Kaneda. He wasn’t even touching his phone while the rest of the students were silently preparing.

“I always make an effort to study, and I don’t like cramming at the last minute. It isn’t good to disrupt routine,” announced Kaneda, pushing up his glasses, flashing a fearless grin.

“I-I see. Smart kids certainly are built different,” replied Hoshinomiya.

Hoshinomiya, slightly taken aback by Kaneda’s response—which just fell short of being “ Why even bother asking?” —had lost Kaneda’s interest. Students like Ishizaki even had the audacity to doze off while they were waiting for their turn. Ishizaki had already gotten two questions wrong and seemed like he had accepted his fate.

“What on earth is going on in this class…?”

She felt a little uncomfortable, but still, she performed her duties as teacher turn after turn.

7.3

I MMEDIATELY AFTER SAKAYANAGI had informed the teacher about which five targets she had nominated in her second attack against Horikita’s class, Hashimoto stood and walked over to where Sakayanagi was seated. In place of his usual grin was a stern expression. It was bizarrely conspicuous behavior considering everyone other than Hashimoto remained in their seats.

“Whatever is the matter, Hashimoto-kun?” asked Sakayanagi.

“It’s just, I know I gave you information last night, just in case. I’m getting the feeling that you don’t intend to make use of it. Am I right?”

Category: Gastronomy

Difficulty Level: 1

Students nominated by the attacker: Kouenji Rokusuke, Hasebe Haruka, Hirata Yousuke, Yukimura Teruhiko, Onodera Kayano

Hashimoto, pointing at the monitor behind him with his thumb, indicated he was unhappy with her choices.

“Is that how it looks to you?” asked Sakayanagi.

“Yeah, it does,” replied Hashimoto.

“While it is certainly true that your phone call last night was overly meddlesome, the information you gave me was only that—information. I will not ignore it, of course. It has been firmly etched into my hippocampus,” said Sakayanagi.

“Okay. Then, in that case…why did you target Kouenji?” asked Hashimoto.

“You said that Kouenji-kun was one of the targets in Class B that we ought to avoid the most, isn’t that right?” replied Sakayanagi.

“He has that promise with Horikita. He’s a likely candidate for protection, so if you go after him, he’ll probably be defended, and you’ll just be handing them points. I was hoping you could use at least some of the information I gave you.”

Hashimoto couldn’t stand being trampled underfoot so quickly. Kitou, sensing that the situation had grown grim, slowly pulled out his chair.

“Don’t worry, Kitou-kun. Hashimoto-kun just happens to have a dry sense of humor,” said Sakayanagi. She chuckled and turned back to Hashimoto. “I’m sure there is an arrangement between Horikita-san and Kouenji-kun. However, that arrangement has two stipulations. First, that she would simply not expel him, and second, that she would allow him his freedom. Yes?” replied Sakayanagi.

“Yeah…” replied Hashimoto.

“There is no advantage to be gained for her in wasting one of her precious protection slots to continuously defend him. At the very least, she would wait and see what happens until he has been targeted once and has answered a question incorrectly. She would need to do at least that much in order to win. Wouldn’t you agree?” asked Sakayanagi.

“But Horikita’s honest. If she won’t protect him, her class will be upset,” said Hashimoto.

“If they’re going to be upset about something as trivial as that, she would sooner let them be upset. While the actual fulfillment of her promise is important, if she wasted her protection slots on Kouenji-kun, she’d be unfit to lead.”

While Sakayanagi was explaining this, Horikita’s class had decided on which five students they would protect. The monitor refreshed. It now showed that none of Horikita’s protections had been successful, and the five students that Sakayanagi had nominated would be tasked with solving a problem.

“What do you think? As expected, she’s left Kouenji-kun undefended,” said Sakayanagi.

Hashimoto had to let the matter drop.

“…Okay, sure. But what’s the point in forcing ourselves to get a point from Kouenji, anyway? The dude’s weirdly smart. He’s far more likely to get correct answers compared to some nobody, right?”

“Do you think so? He’s a capricious fellow, undeniably. He’s such a free spirit that he even defies Horikita-san. He’s under no obligation to take these questions seriously. He might even answer them incorrectly on purpose,” said Sakayanagi.

Sakayanagi was unwavering in her conviction as she spoke. It was almost like she was claiming she could read the future. Hashimoto waited for the monitor to refresh, wondering if she had that kind of power. The results showed that Kouenji did indeed answer incorrectly, just as Sakayanagi had predicted. He was one step closer to elimination.

“Well, you took a risk, but you got a point. Brilliantly done, Princess,” said Hashimoto.

Hashimoto felt momentarily relieved, but that relief was dashed away in the following turn. As soon as their attack phase began, Sakayanagi, without even a moment’s hesitation, went ahead and announced Kouenji’s name as the first of her nominations. In the same category, to boot. It was as though she were announcing to everyone that she was targeting him. Even Sakayanagi’s other classmates stirred. Kamuro raised an objection.

“Hold up, what are you doing? You picked the same category, so it’s obvious that they’re going to protect Kouenji,” said Kamuro.

“You’re not saying he won’t be protected this time either, are you?” asked Hashimoto.

“Yes, I would bet on it. That’s why I nominated him.”

It was an absurd prediction on Sakayanagi’s part. He peered at the monitor from his seat and waited for the results.

Successful protections by the defender: None

“Wait, seriously…?! What is Horikita thinking?” Hashimoto blurted out.

And once again, Kouenji had answered the question incorrectly. That kind of mistake was unthinkable from him.

“I’m not taking Hashimoto’s side in this, but what made you think that he wouldn’t be defended the second time?” asked Kitou.

“The logic is the same as it was in the first round. You can make up to two mistakes, so there’s no need for Horikita-san to defend him. If she were to, she’d want to leave that until the last possible minute. However, I imagine she would prefer Kouenji-kun to answer correctly.”

“…I see. Which means that now Horikita has no other choice but to protect Kouenji, even if she doesn’t want to,” muttered Kitou, now convinced.

As long as there was room for Kouenji to make a mistake, Horikita would not allocate a protection slot for him. In other words, Sakayanagi took a risk and targeted him so that slot would be occupied in the later turns. That’s how Kitou had interpreted what she said. The fact that the problems in the gastronomy category were easy weren’t really a problem. Every class was feeling out the difficulty of the problems.

“Sorry I doubted you, Princess. You really did think it through. If that’s what you were going to do, though, you could’ve gone after Kouenji starting from the first turn, right? You could have made them waste their protection slot for eight turns. We basically lost a turn, then,” said Hashimoto.

“I was ninety-nine percent certain that she would not defend Kouenji-kun, but the reason I chose to target him on turn two was to ensure their complacency. It was a strategic opening move to lure our opponents into making a second blunder. What would have happened had I made my attack on turn one and Horikita-san had decided to defend him? It would have been harder going.”

They would have run the risk of being led around by the nose by their opponent, by a deceptive protection slot. Sakayanagi didn’t want to give her opponent any leeway to control the pace.

“He’d answered an easy question incorrectly the first time, so I was able to determine he’d be unlikely to answer the second correctly. At any rate, the results were superb. All thanks to the information you have provided me.”

Hashimoto, feeling relieved that Sakayanagi was making effective use of his information, nodded and took his seat.

“Now then, let’s finish off Kouenji-kun, shall we?” said Sakayanagi.

On the fourth turn, Sakayanagi nominated Kouenji for a third time. Again, he was the first person in her list of nominees. It shocked the class.

“It is to make doubly sure, you see. This is a threat that I will go after him again if they show me an opening. Thanks to your gathered intelligence, Hashimoto-kun, we know the inner workings of Horikita-san’s class. However, our opponent does not know how much has been leaked to you, Hashimoto-kun.”

“I got it… You’re right. They’ll feel they have to protect him,” said Hashimoto.

Sakayanagi chose the same category, gastronomy, but she raised the difficulty to 2. She was also checking to see what the increase in difficulty for the problems would be like. Although it’d be a waste if it turned out Kouenji were protected, he didn’t dare point that out.

However, one last surprise was in store for them.

Successful protections by the defender: Shinohara Satsuki, Sudou Ken

Horikita did the unimaginable: She’d chosen not to defend Kouenji.

“Why isn’t she defending him?!” balked Hashimoto.

“Are you sure you didn’t get bad information?” asked Kamuro.

“No! I’m sure of it!” shouted Hashimoto.

Kouenji had given the correct answer himself and thus avoided elimination.

Hashimoto was confused; his head swam. Sakayanagi, on the other hand, looked as if her grasp on the situation had grown firmer after observing Horikita and Kouenji’s actions.

“Does this mean that Horikita’s abandoning Kouenji…?” asked Kamuro.

“That’s an opening. We can crush him in one go,” said Kitou. He smelled blood in the water.

“You may be right. And I’m sure trust in Horikita is dropping, along with their morale,” said Hashimoto.

But while Hashimoto saw Horikita’s decision not to use her protection slot on Kouenji as a sign of internal strife in the enemy class, Sakayanagi had come to a different conclusion.

“I thought she might protect him unconditionally or that this was our shot at eliminating him, but it seems Horikita-san has something else in mind. If we target Kouenji-kun any further, we will only end up playing into her hands.” With a giggle, Sakayanagi opened her phone. “At any rate, I’m impressed. It appears you’ve actually kept your opponent in mind.”

Sakayanagi wondered silently if Ayanokouji was lurking in Horikita’s shadow. Which one had come up with this strategy?

“I’d guess this wasn’t his doing,” said Sakayanagi.

If Ayanokouji were pulling the strings, she’d have heard about it. Sakayanagi would have felt the influence of some alien mind. She only detected the faint whispers of Ayanokouji in Horikita’s thinking.

She’s been watching him more closely than anyone, so I’m sure she’s grown , thought Sakayanagi.

The lines were drawn. Sakayanagi was not going to fall behind Horikita in this battle.

“The problem is…”

For Sakayanagi, who held Class A’s future in her hands, there wasn’t any class in particular that worried her. More than one working in collusion, however, would be a problem—that was Sakayanagi’s sole concern. Although Sakayanagi’s agents continued to perform reconnaissance after the special exam was announced, there had been no signs of any such moves from the other classes. However, perhaps they’d been working in secret.

All Sakayanagi could do was look for signs of that kind of an arrangement between classes. As of now, the likelihood that the other classes were working together was nearly zero. Nothing was out of the ordinary.