Goddamn it... delete.
No, wait—did he really just do that? The school's text messages, deleted without even reading them?
What if he was the preferential treatment? How would he even know now?!
In an instant, almost everyone from Classes A, C, and D felt like cursing out loud. But they had to admit—Kure Ragna's approach was the safest. He ensured he'd never lose.
Now, everyone in the group eyed their classmates with suspicion. If they found the preferential treatment, great. If not, it was no loss.
And if by some ridiculous chance Kure himself was the preferential treatment… well, if he didn't even know, how could anyone else figure it out?
In short: Others might win big, but Kure Ragna? He would never lose.
"Damn it, what a bastard!"
The tension in the room was palpable.
Ichinose Honami rubbed her temples, exhaling in exasperation. She never expected Kure to pull something like this.
"No! The teacher clearly stated that tampering with or hiding the school's text messages is prohibited! You're breaking the rules!"
Machida from Class A shot up from his seat, pointing an accusing finger at Kure.
But Kure didn't even flinch. Instead, he nodded along as if Machida was making perfect sense, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. When Machida finally finished, Kure added casually:
"Then go tell the teacher."
"You—!"
Machida, clearly enraged, yanked out his phone, unlocked it, and dialed their homeroom teacher's number. His face was full of confidence, as if he were delivering a death sentence.
Yet, as the call progressed, his expression slowly crumbled into shock and disbelief. When it finally ended, he sat down in silence, looking like a deflated balloon.
Kure Ragna chuckled. "So? Is Mashima-sensei on his way to disqualify me?"
Silence.
"Let me guess," Kure continued, his voice dripping with amusement.
"He told you that the rule exists to prevent students with programming skills from hacking the messages and deceiving their groups. But simply deleting the message? That doesn't count as tampering, does it?"
Machida gritted his teeth, his silence confirming Kure's words.
"Besides," Kure added, "the school never said we had to show our messages to anyone. If I delete mine, what does that have to do with you? Hmm? Hmm?"
His mocking tone sent another wave of frustration through Machida, who took a deep breath, struggling to stay composed.
"Fine," Machida said at last. "Then we'll keep silent during the rest of the discussions. Let's see how your Class B handles that."
"Let me guess, this was Katsuragi's idea?" Kure smirked.
Machida's scowl deepened. "Yeah. So what?"
"Oh, nothing." Kure waved a hand dismissively. "Just saying, it's textbook Katsuragi. No risks, no gains. He's playing it safe—perfect civil servant material."
Machida narrowed his eyes. "And what about you? Your Class B doing the same?"
Kure let out a sharp laugh. "Hell no."
He leaned back lazily. "I deleted the text because I wanted to. It makes things unpredictable—more fun. But your Class A? You're just turtling because Katsuragi doesn't trust you. He thinks if you talk too much, someone will trick you out of your pants. That's why he told you to stay quiet."
Machida glared. "Tch."
"It's like in a MOBA game," Kure continued, grinning. "Your whole team tells you to stay at the fountain and do nothing. Because, believe it or not, doing nothing is your biggest contribution to the team. You get it now? The skill gap between us is just too big, dumbass."
Machida shot up, his fists clenched. "Say that again!"
Kure smiled mischievously. "Dumbass… dumbass… dumbass… dumbass…"
His echoing taunt sent Machida's rage skyrocketing, but before he could lash out, the school speakers interrupted, announcing the end of the first discussion round.
Kure stretched and stood up. "Welp, that's it. Time for a break."
As he walked towards the door, he paused and turned to Manabe Shiho from Class C.
"Oh, right. About that thing earlier—message me later. And bring that girl, Ichida, with you."
Manabe blinked, caught off guard, but eventually nodded. "Uh… sure."
And with that, the first round of meetings was over.
---
Kure didn't head back to Sakayanagi Arisu, nor did he return to the dorms with the others. Instead, Kei Karuizawa pulled him into a secluded hallway, her eyes blazing with frustration.
"Why the hell did you stop me back there?!"
Kure, unbothered, simply shrugged. "Relax, it was for your own good. What did you plan to do, slap her phone out of her hands? If you broke it, you'd have to pay for it."
Kei scoffed. "And? She had no right to take pictures of me! Did I give her permission?!"
Kure sighed. "That's two different things. If she tries to take your photo and you refuse, that's fair. But if you just go in swinging, that's intentional damage."
Kei stiffened at his calm reasoning, but before she could argue, Kure continued.
"So… Manabe wasn't lying, was she? You really did cut in line and slap someone at the café."
Kei's fists clenched. "And what if I did?!" she snapped. "You say you're so strong, that you protect me—then prove it! Go beat those bitches up! Make them stop messing with me!"
The sheer desperation in her voice echoed through the empty corridor. Her body trembled slightly as if even she was startled by her own outburst.
Kure stared at her for a long moment before exhaling softly.
"Ah… so you're that type."
His voice was almost indifferent, the weight of realization settling in. He turned around, walking away without another word.
Kei stood frozen, her breath shallow.
And in the silence of the empty corridor, muffled sobs soon filled the air.
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