The President only charged a five percent fee, and all of it was submitted to the school, which made Akira feel that the President was exceptionally lenient with him.
Although this was a high school that focused on cultivating students' self-reliance, compared to the social standard of over twenty percent commission, the President's approach could almost be called generous.
'With such fees, can the President really accumulate personal points?'
Akira couldn't help but feel a little doubtful.
Although the President's ability was unquestionable, he didn't seem enthusiastic about points.
Compared to Nagumo Miyabi, the Student Vice President, the two were as different as heaven and earth—Nagumo charged a fixed percentage of points from all four classes.
In terms of "self-interest," Akira felt that the President was far less shrewd than Nagumo.
He even secretly speculated that Student Council President Horikita Manabu's personal point reserves might not be as rich as Nagumo's.
However, when it came to prestige and popularity, Nagumo paled in comparison to Horikita Manabu—after all, the latter was the most renowned Student Council President since the school's founding.
Thinking of this, Akira took the opportunity to ask. "President, what are your thoughts on Nagumo, the Vice President?"
"...You're actually concerned about second-year matters?" Horikita Manabu glanced at him with a hint of surprise, then pondered for a moment before replying. "I personally selected him. His ability is unquestionable. It's just..." The President's voice paused. "Our philosophies are diverging. His current focus is on the third-years. As a first-year student, you don't need to overly concern yourself with these matters now. I will handle them."
"I see." Akira nodded slightly. The President's implied meaning was identical to that of Chabashira-sensei.
It seemed that Nagumo, the Vice President, indeed had little interest in first-year affairs. Since even Horikita Manabu had stated as much, he could finally put his mind at ease completely.
At this moment, Tachibana gracefully approached with two cups of black tea.
Akira politely stood up to thank her, taking a small sip of the amber-colored tea in his cup.
"You plan to sell hidden information, don't you?"
"As expected, nothing escapes you."
Horikita Manabu picked up his teacup, took a shallow sip, and continued to ask. "So, after understanding these inside stories, what are your thoughts on the school's class system?"
Akira pondered for a moment. "I think this concept of class division is quite novel and very fair."
He paused and added, "This is the first time I've seen a school that doesn't use academic performance as the sole criterion for judgment. The competitive mechanism between the four classes is also very profound."
"But—" Horikita Manabu keenly caught his hesitation, gazing at him with piercing eyes.
Akira spoke frankly. "The evaluation criteria are too vague. Several students in our Class D, who in my opinion are no less capable than those in Class A, have all been assigned to the lowest tier." He frowned slightly. "Is the school's weighting of 'dark history' too high? By this standard, Class C should actually be the weakest class in terms of overall strength."
These words had been bottled up in his heart for a long time.
Since enrolling, he'd struggled to find a suitable confidant, but now, facing the trustworthy Student Council President, he finally spoke his mind.
'Hirata's leadership talent, Kushida's social skills, Ayanokoji's inscrutability... these people are undoubtedly top talents.'
He truly couldn't understand why such students would be assigned to Class D.
'Ultimately, it's not Class D that should be anxious, but Class C.'
From this perspective, Class D must not be the weakest, but rather the most "lopsided"—a gathering of students who were exceptionally outstanding in specific areas but had obvious shortcomings.
In contrast, Class C's apparent overall strength might actually be the most mediocre.
But what surprised him was that in the first month of school, Class C had genuinely obtained 490 class points.
It didn't seem like the level of the weakest class at all.
Akira recalled the scene he saw at the entrance ceremony—there were even foreign students in that class.
'If only I were in Class C...'
Just imagining it made him feel a headache.
So, how exactly did Ryuuen manage it? One had to admit that the person who threatened an upperclassman with force in the cafeteria indeed had some real skill.
Means aside, he was indeed a qualified leader.
In this environment where strength reigns supreme, any method that effectively solves problems is a good method.
A hint of surprise flashed in Horikita Manabu's eyes. After a moment of silence, he uncharacteristically showed an expression of admiration. "...A good insight."
The Student Council President uncharacteristically showed a hint of confusion. "Actually, even I haven't fully grasped the essence of this class allocation mechanism."
He acknowledged, "Regarding your analysis of the strength of Class D and Class C, your view is very accurate. From a certain perspective, Class C is indeed the weakest class in terms of overall strength."
Changing the subject, Horikita Manabu's tone regained its composure. "However, the class allocation system is still reasonable in most cases. Although the individual qualities of Class D are superior to Class C, it's a double-edged sword due to too many problematic students, making it difficult to unite."
He paused meaningfully. "However, in terms of overall strength, Class D is still the weakest, but it is the class most likely to achieve an upset."
Upon hearing this, Akira immediately found it interesting.
What was this? Not making a sound until it makes one that startles everyone?
After all, students who excel in specific areas can indeed shine brightly in their fields in a certain sense—let alone Class B, even Class A might not be their match.
But the problem was that such students were often troublemakers who didn't follow instructions and acted on their own whims.
Just like his classmate, Koenji.
Although the President's words sounded inspiring, Akira felt nothing inside.
He always felt that the Student Council President seemed to be inadvertently injecting him with a boost of energy.
"...President, you really don't need to look at me like that. Class D is just right for me. No one pays special attention to us, and the other classes' attention is on each other, which makes things more convenient," Akira waved his hand casually.
"Biding your time?...That's a wise choice." Horikita Manabu nodded thoughtfully.
"You're overthinking it again." Akira couldn't help but chuckle.
That's how smart people are. They can always interpret five layers of meaning from a casual remark.
"By the way..." Horikita Manabu pushed up his glasses. "Has Class D already obtained those hidden pieces of information?"
Akira thought for a moment, then frankly replied. "Yes."
Horikita Manabu pushed up his glasses. "Don't worry, the content of our conversation won't be leaked. As the Student Council President, this is my basic quality."
He changed the subject. "However, haven't you noticed your oversight? How do you ensure that others in your class won't accidentally leak this information? Then you won't earn a single point."
Horikita Manabu didn't believe that this seemingly shrewd young man would make such a low-level mistake—coming rashly just to sell information.
"Well..." Akira spread his hands. "President, you're overthinking. Who said I only sell hidden information? The risk of leakage does exist, and selling once is selling once, and the first time is always the most valuable. Information is inherently such an uncertain thing, so I specifically chose a bottom-line bargaining chip that the four classes would find harder to refuse..."