WEMADE OUR WAY to the floor where the first-year students were-the floor we'd been regularly going to until just last month. There didn't seem to be many students around, considering that quite a few had gone over
to the gym. We looked around and saw several students, from Class A through Class C. Even though we didn't actually call out to them, when they spotted us and recognized us as upperclassmen, they looked away, as if it were awkward or uncomfortable.
I supposed there was no way we'd be welcomed with open arms all that easily, after suddenly setting foot on the first-years' floor. There were a few students who didn't seem to mind us, but most of them didn't exactly like the uncomfortable awkwardness of having us there. That would probably
be the case tomorrow, and every day thereafter, too.
I was sure that some students, trying to find a partner as soon as possible, would approach first-years at all times of the day, both mornings and afternoons. But that was a dangerous gamble that might end up
backfiring. Even so, there were students chatting and laughing happily in the first-year classrooms into which we pecked. Maybe they felt like there was no need to panic about this special exam. Or perhaps they didn't see it as that big a deal yet.
"Well, it seems like a lot of the students who had stayed behind aren't too worried, after all," said Horikita.
"Well, that's nice. And here I'm freakin' out and all," gruffed Sudou.
The first-year students would only have their Private Point pay outs suspended for three months if they scored five hundred points or less on the exam. That was still definitely a huge loss, of course, but since the initial
deposit into their accounts should have been right after the entrance ceremony, they probably felt no sense of impending danger.
Just as we were finishing our inspection of Class 1-C, Horikita heard a familiar voice call out to her.
"Ku ku. You got here pretty late, Suzune."
The owner of that voice was none other than Ryuuen Kakeru, from Class 2-C, staring at us fearlessly. Just up ahead, we could see the classroom For Class 1-D.
It looked like Ryūen had just stepped out of that room.
"Are you here scouting out first-year students too, Ryūen-kun? I don't recall seeing you at the meet-and-greet," said Horikita.
"It was just a buncha moronic half-wits who got together at the gym. Didn't even need to go see it to know that," said Ryūen.
He had come here looking for students who hadn't gone to the meet-and-greet, just like Horikita had been planning to do. Judging from the way he was talking, it was clear he was after the top-level first-year students. There had only been about a twenty- or thirty-minute difference in our timing, but… with that much time, it was possible that he had already successfully scouted a number of students. We would be able to check whether each student had settled on a partner at eight o'clock the next morning.
"Relax. Still haven't settled on anybody yet," said Ryūen.
Not that the other two people with me today would believe him so easily, though. That is, until the app actually refreshed, and it showed what partnerships had been finalized or not for Class 2-C.
"You look like you don't believe me," sneered Ryūen.
"Well, I'm taking everything you say with a grain of salt, at the very least," replied Horikita.
"Huh, okay. Looks like you've gotten pretty wary of me, huh?"
"Oh? I can't recall ever once not being wary of you before though. Hm?"
"Kukuku! Well, yeah, guess you've got a point there," said Ryūen.
Sudō glared at Ryūen, perhaps not liking the mocking way he spoke to Horikita. A normal person would have shrunk back in fear from that glare alone, but such a direct attack wouldn't work on Ryūen.
"Looks like you've hired yourself a bodyguard. But you chose a dumb one, lady," sneered Ryūen.
"What'd you say?!" huffed Sudō.
He looked ready to fly off the handle, but Horikita kept him in line with a gentle wave of her hand.
"Don't. He's just trying to provoke you."
"Grrr…" Sudō clenched his fists, his veins bulging, but he didn't swing.
Ryūen smirked at the sight, clearly enjoying how easy it was for him to rile Sudō up.
"Well, whatever. Pickin' up strays is your problem, not mine. Just don't cry later if he drags you down with him."
It was an insult directed at both Horikita and Sudō, but Horikita didn't flinch.
"I'll decide for myself whether Sudō-kun is worth relying on or not," she said flatly.
"Kukuku! Suit yourself. But you'd better move fast, lady. This exam's gonna leave a lotta leftovers behind. And I'll be the one who decides how those leftovers get eaten."
With those words, Ryūen turned his back to us, his trademark laugh echoing faintly as he disappeared down the hallway.
Sudō exhaled loudly, as if trying to release the pent-up heat inside him.
"Damn bastard… acting all high and mighty…"
"You shouldn't let him get to you. He feeds on reactions like that," I said.
"Tch… easier said than done, dude."
Horikita quietly resumed walking, her expression unchanged, as though the encounter had been nothing more than a slight detour.
"Oh, do you need brains to be a bodyguard? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, hm?" said Horikita.
She didn't avert her eyes from Ryuuen as she delivered that comcback, still holding her hand out to keep Sudou back.
"Are you planning on scaring the first-years? I'm afraid that kind of attitude with them is going to backfire on you," said Horikita.
They would certainly shrink back if they saw Ryuuen strutting about like he was the cock of the walk.
"I figured ifI threatened 'em a little, they'd immediately agree to cooperate," said Ryuuen.
Horikita had been going tit-for-tat with Ryuuen so far, dishing back what Ryuuen was giving her. But Ryuuen did the opposite this time, actually affirming what she had just suggested.
"...You're kidding, right? Do you really think that's an acceptable way of doing things?" asked Horikita.
"Acceptable or not, who friggin' cares. What's the problem if someone feels a little threatened? We were told that we couldn't force someone to get lower score or anythin', but there wasn't anythin' about not using threats to find a partner in the rules," said Ryuuen.
"That's because it should go without saying that it's not okay, without it needing to be outlined in the rules. If there is a problem, you'll be in trouble," said Horikita.
"Then show me where the problem is. I ain't gonna do somethin' dumb enough that it'd get traced back to me, anyway," said Ryuuen.
He was as bullish and cocksure as ever. Not only was he saying it was extremely likely that he'd make good on his threats, but he also stated, quite definitively, that the truth of the matter would never get out. Whether what he was saying was truth or falschood, Horikita, too, must have realized once
again that Ryuuen would always opt to rule with the iron hand of a military dictator.
"Well, in that case, do whatever you like. But if any evidence should present itself, I will raise the issue, without question. Or mercy," said Horikita.
Her warning clearly didn't faze Ryūen.
"So? You think you can win anyone over to your class?" he sneered.
Horikita stayed silent, unwilling to play along.
"You figured something out at the meet-and-greet, huh? Then rushed over here to see who was left?" Ryūen pressed.
"The same as you, perhaps?" she countered.
"Kukuku… maybe." He smirked, then leaned in as if to keep things interesting. "This year's brats are a lot calmer than we were. Which means someone from the school's feeding them info."
That was unexpected. Back in April, we were clueless and wasted time. But if what Ryūen said was true, the first-years weren't stumbling around blindly at all.
"Or maybe they're just sharper than us, and we were unusually slow," Horikita replied.
Ryūen shook his head. "Some of 'em are already acting like a class. This early? "
Even if they'd immediately started trying to come together as a class When the special exam was announced, they wouldn't have been able to succeed just by suddenly coming together. Rokusen had pointed out that if they'd reached this level of unity now, it meant they had likely begun the process much earlier—perhaps right after they first entered the school.
"…What kind of cowardly trick are you trying to pull by telling me this?" Horikita asked sharply.
"Nothin'. No tricks. You can't just smash through your opponents in this special exam. If you want to win overall, you'll need to pull a lotta strings," said Rokusen with a smirk.
It was true. In this exam, getting students expelled wouldn't be so simple. The sense of anonymity, of not knowing who had partnered with whom, was significant. Unless a student carelessly revealed their pairing or you were skilled at gathering intel, it was nearly impossible to track down who was partnered with who through the app.
Even if you managed to pair weaker classmates with rivals, or specifically designated someone for sabotage, it wouldn't matter. If a student deliberately scored below the level their ability suggested, the intent would be obvious. The school would expel them regardless of what grade they were in.
In the end, the decisive factors boiled down to two things: the strength of your own classmates and the academic ability of the first-year students. Strategically, the best approach was to recruit as many academically gifted first-years as possible to your side.
For Class C, though, that was a tall order. Their overall ability was low, they couldn't hope to rival Class A financially, and academically, they were worlds apart. No matter how much money they offered, the outcome wouldn't be in their favor. That left one realistic option: give up on first place and aim for the individual competition, where rewards were given to the top thirty percent.
Of course, Horikita didn't voice that thought aloud. The difference in background between the classes was too obvious.
And what Rokusen was talking about wasn't limited to one class, but the entire grade level. Maybe the school had anticipated this, forcing them to pair with second-years right from the start. Or perhaps the school had an entirely different intention in mind.
"Isn't it just as likely that this year's batch of students are unusually quick to adapt, and we were just slow?" Horikita countered.
"There're signs some of 'em are already uniting as a class. At this stage, that's way too early."
Even if they had immediately begun building unity from day one, it still felt unnatural.
be a problem for us if Class A and Class C weren't trying to duke it out with each other for overall points. Rather than let Class A easily snatch the top spot, I was hoping A and C would fight it out on a grand scale, so they'd wear cach other down, if only a little.
"Try your best to keep up," chided Ryuuen.
"I suppose I could say the same to you. Your concerns are completely unnecessary," said Horikita.
"Ku ku. Well, my bad."
Then Ryuuen immediately left, vacating the first-year students' floor. He had been here too short a time to have finished what needed doing.
"The first-years might resist us much more strongly than I thought they would," said Horikita.
If they were aware of the fact that they were basically locked in a desperate struggle to the death with the other classes at this school, then yes, I supposed it was only natural they'd be hesitant to negotiate with us
"In that case, shouldn't we try and negotiate with 'em at lecast a little, as soon as we can?" said Sudou.
"Yes... Of course we should. But..."
Horikita directed her gaze towards the end of the hall. She was looking at where the classroom for Class 1-D was.
"Let's get goin'" said Sudou.
"I don't think it's going to be that simple," said Horikita.
Apparently, Horikita had noticed it too while she was talking with Ryuuen. The entire time they talked, from when Ryuuen strolled out of the classroom to when he left, not a single student had been seen leaving the classroom. And we didn't hear a single sound as we approached the room, either.
When we eventually reached the door to the classroom and opened it, our suspicions were confirmed.
"D-dude, what the hell's goin' on?!" yelled Sudou in a panic, as he scanned the inside of the classroom from end to end.
"Negotiating with Class 1-D might be much, much more difficult than i expected," said Horikita.
The classroom was completely empty. There wasn't a single person in sight. The forty students, who hadn't shown up to the meet-and-greet either, seemed to have suddenly disappeared without a trace.
"This class might be more trouble than I had thought," she added.
However, it wasn't like we could just sit here and wallow in our anxiety. We necded to take action before the other classes really started
making their moves in carnest. The competition was starting tomorrow Horikita's battle was going to begin the moment that she contacted Class 1-D. As for me, I was going to head back to my dorm and memorize all the names and faces of the new students in the OAA app. Horikita had her battle to fight, and I had mine.
And as it turned out, on the day the special exam was announced, a total of twenty-two partnerships had been finalized.