Chapter 261 087: Ryuen VS Katsuragi!

The lighting in the surveillance room was much dimmer than in the classrooms. Dozens of screens were arranged on the wall, each displaying real-time footage of the four first-year classes. The feed was divided into a neat grid, with every panel silently playing the activity inside the classrooms—some people were bowing their heads to take notes, some were chatting with their neighbors, and others were resting with their heads on their desks.

The staff sat in front of the console, fingers occasionally tapping on the keyboard to switch between different camera angles. The image was very clear, clear enough to recognize the handwriting on the students' notebooks.

This, too, was a specialty of this school: observing the development of the students and making adjustments.

Just then, the door was pushed open.

It was Acting Chairman Tsukishiro who walked in, his pace unhurried.

He was wearing a dark gray suit, his tie meticulously knotted, and his hair neatly combed back. From the moment he entered, his gaze did not fall on the staff, but rather directed itself straight toward the wall of screens.

"How is the situation?" he asked.

The staff member immediately stood up and bowed slightly. "Acting Chairman, the exam rules for all classes have been read out. Looking at it now—"

"Looking at it now?"

"There has been no major resistance." The staff member carefully chose his words. "Although the first-year students are shaken by the expulsion rules, there has been no obvious protest or chaos. Class A of the second year had a brief emotional fluctuation, but they quickly recovered. The third years are generally calm."

Tsukishiro did not respond immediately. He walked to the console, his eyes sweeping across the screens one by one. On the screen, Ryuen from Class B was sitting with his legs crossed, saying something to Ishizaki beside him, a signature mocking smirk on his lips; in the corner of the Class D classroom, several people were gathered together, discussing in low voices with tense expressions; the area for Class C was relatively quiet, with most students looking at their own desktops.

Then, his gaze stopped on the Class A area.

In the center of the screen, in a seat toward the back, a boy was tilting his head, saying something to the girl with long pink-gold hair beside him. From his angle, he could only see the boy's side profile, but it was enough to recognize that face—Hikigaya Hachiman.

Tsukishiro's gaze lingered there for two extra seconds.

"Hikigaya Hachiman," he recited the name, his tone as if confirming something.

The staff member was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly pulled up the file for Class A. "Yes, first-year Class A, Hikigaya Hachiman. Promoted from Class B last semester, the comprehensive evaluation score has been—"

"I know," Tsukishiro interrupted him.

He turned around and walked to another terminal on the wall. It was a networked archive retrieval device. He entered a command and pulled up Hikigaya Hachiman's performance record in all previous special exams. The screen lit up, spreading out rows of data, evaluation reports, and incident records.

Tsukishiro didn't speak; he just quietly flipped through them.

Last semester—the Uninhabited Island Exam. Hikigaya Hachiman seized the resources brought by that special exam, conducted resource sales, and eventually profited. And according to the records, the total income reached 100 million points!

And this semester. The Sports Festival.

In this exam, Hikigaya Hachiman's class united with the second and third years, ultimately winning as a group. At the same time, despite his group not having the strongest overall strength, he obtained the highest score.

In summary.

Class alliances, mutual betrayal, exchange of benefits. Hikigaya Hachiman had barely made a single decision error in the complex situation. Every judgment maximized benefit acquisition within the scope permitted by the rules.

Tsukishiro's fingertips slid across the touchscreen, page after page.

Then he stopped.

The most recent exam—that special exam centered on "grouping." This exam was actually a failure for first-year Class A, but in reality, Hikigaya Hachiman stabilized his class and maintained Class A's advantageous position in the final settlement.

Tsukishiro narrowed his eyes slightly.

The staff member stood to the side, carefully observing his expression, but dared not ask anything.

Tsukishiro straightened up, his fingers leaving the screen, and his gaze fell back onto the grid showing the real-time footage of Class A. In the frame, Hikigaya Hachiman had already finished his conversation with Ichinose and was lying on his desk, as if resting.

However, Tsukishiro noticed that his arms were not spread out in a completely relaxed manner—instead, they were in a posture ready to lift at any moment, just like a cat lying in the grass: seemingly relaxed, but actually vigilant.

"Interesting," Tsukishiro said in a low voice.

He turned around, his back to the screen wall, facing the window.

Tsukishiro's purpose for coming here was different from ordinary people from the very beginning. He was not here to make this school better; he was not here to discover and cultivate so-called talent. He came to this Advanced Nurturing High School for only one purpose.

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

That man—the one who once created the greatest masterpiece of the White Room—sent his son into this school, into this environment that seems ordinary but is full of challenges. And Tsukishiro's task was to make Ayanokouji Kiyotaka show his true form in this environment. That carefully polished weapon should, by all rights, shine brilliantly in this test.

But so far.

Tsukishiro's gaze moved back to the corner of Class D on the screen wall.

So far, that boy named Ayanokouji Kiyotaka had almost no noteworthy performance. He was like a stone buried in the sand, silent.

However, one couldn't say that; there were actually quite a few negative evaluations.

It was just that in the first year where Ayanokouji was, not only had he not shown anything, but the one who could truly radiate light—at least in all the records of the last semester—was from this person named Hikigaya Hachiman.

But whether it was him or that person, they didn't admit it; the White Room's greatest masterpiece was unable to demonstrate its quality.

And although there might have been a lack of it before, now, he had arrived.

Thus.

Tsukishiro stood by the window for a while, then turned around.

"Continue observing," he said to the staff member. "If there are any abnormal movements, report them immediately."

"Yes."

Tsukishiro walked out of the surveillance room. The door closed softly behind him with a faint click. The lighting in the corridor was much brighter than in the surveillance room; he squinted slightly, then stepped forward.

The sound of leather shoes striking the floor tiles echoed in the empty corridor, one beat after another.

In his mind, the scene he had just seen lingered—the boy lying on the desk appearing to be resting, the decision-maker who had accurately found the optimal solution in several special exams. Hikigaya Hachiman.

Tsukishiro stopped for a step at the corner of the corridor.

"Whether it's a coincidence or ability—" he whispered to himself, his voice almost inaudible in the empty corridor, "but if you stand in my way, I won't be polite."

He continued walking forward, the sound of his leather shoes gradually fading away, disappearing at the end of the corridor.

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.

.

The corridor after school was much busier than usual.

After the exam rules were announced, the atmosphere of the entire first year changed. Some people were anxiously flipping through notebooks to reorganize the rules, and some had already started drawing mind maps of grouping relationships on paper. But more people—at least the moment they walked out of the classroom—were doing the same thing.

"Shall we go to the shopping district?"

"Yeah, we're leaving tomorrow, gotta buy some stuff."

"Toothbrush, towel, change of clothes... for the forest school, should we bring bug spray?"

"Whoever has bug spray, lend it to me, I won't buy it."

Such conversations rose one after another in the corridor. Students walked in twos and threes, exited the teaching building, and walked along the path leading to the shopping district. The setting sun stretched their shadows long, and the swaying of their school bags cast moving outlines on the gray ground.

Hachiman walked at the back of the crowd, keeping a distance of two or three steps from most people. He didn't like having too much contact with others, so he was quietly alone for now.

The shopping district was at its busiest at this time. Lights spilled from the signs of various shops; warm yellow, white, and red lights overlapped, painting a colorful patch on the road. The automatic doors of the convenience stores opened and closed constantly, each bringing out a blast of air conditioning cold air and the sound of the cash register.

The lights of the shopping district were a bit brighter than at dusk. More and more students in school uniforms were pouring into this street. After all, this time the entire school's students had to leave the school to take the exam.

The automatic doors of the convenience stores opened and closed more frequently than during the day, and the sounds of talking and the rustling of plastic packaging being torn open could be heard in the daily necessities shops.

When Ryuen Kakeru walked out of the convenience store, he had an extra bottle of sports drink in his hand. He unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and his gaze swept over both sides of the street nonchalantly.

Ishizaki followed behind, holding a shopping bag full of things, his mouth grinning as if he were excited for the "cross-grade war" coming tomorrow.

Then Ryuen's gaze stopped.

Ten steps or so ahead, Katsuragi Kohei was standing at the door of an outdoor goods store, carefully looking at the label on a sleeping bag package in his hand. He had no one else around him—the students of Class C seemed to be shopping elsewhere, and he was the only one there.

Ryuen's lips curled slightly. He took a step and walked straight toward him.

"Isn't that Katsuragi?"

The voice came from the side. Katsuragi looked up, saw Ryuen's face that was wearing a haughty smile, and his expression immediately turned blank. At the same time, Katsuragi did not speak immediately, but first flipped the sleeping bag package in his hand over to continue looking at the instructions on the back.

"Buying stuff?" Ryuen walked up to him and stood still, unhurried. "That's right, we're leaving tomorrow, no harm in being well-prepared. Right, Ishizaki?"

"Uh... yeah!" Ishizaki followed and looked at Katsuragi somewhat nervously. He, of course, knew who Katsuragi was—the leader of first-year Class C; the relationship between him and Ryuen could not be called good or bad, but that subtle sense of hostility between the two had always existed.

Katsuragi finally finished reading the sleeping bag instructions, and only then did he look up at Ryuen.

"Something up?" Katsuragi asked. His voice was low, but very steady.

"Nothing major." Ryuen shook the sports drink bottle in his hand. "Just happened to see you, came over to say hello. After all—"

He took half a step forward, looking directly at Katsuragi.

"The gap between Class B and Class C now is only thirty points, right?"

Katsuragi's brows moved slightly.

"So I was thinking—if you have the ability, you might really be able to surpass our Class B in this exam." Ryuen's voice was neither high nor low, carrying a kind of certain contempt. "After all, it's thirty points; a special exam could turn the tables. Katsuragi, aren't you known for being steady? Time to step it up, right?"

Katsuragi was silent for a moment. He, of course, could hear the thorn in Ryuen's words—he wasn't "encouraging" him, but reminding him: your Class C is only thirty points away from Class B, but you just can't surpass them.

"...You came to me just to say this?" Katsuragi tried to make his tone flat. "Then I'll get going—"

"Don't be in such a hurry."

Ryuen reached out to block his way. The movement wasn't rough, but the implication that he couldn't be refused was very strong.

"I still want to talk to you about another thing."

Katsuragi stopped and tilted his head to look at him.

"..."

Ryuen retracted his hand and put it back into his trouser pocket, tilting his head slightly as if weighing his words—but the easygoing smile on his face showed that he didn't need to at all.

"The rules for this exam: the leaders of all the last-place groups are expelled, and then they have to tie-nominate one person from the same group to be expelled. Right?" he said. "And the nomination can be someone from the same class or someone from other classes."

"..."

Katsuragi didn't speak.

"Katsuragi, are you worried?"

Ryuen's voice suddenly softened, as if changing from provocation to conversation. But the arc of his lips remained unchanged.

"If you were assigned to the last-place group, and that group's leader just happened not to be from your Class C—but from my class, or someone who just doesn't like the look of you—"

"I understand what you're saying," Katsuragi interrupted him, his voice dropping. "You want to say that the risk of me being nominated for expulsion is high."

"Not just you," Ryuen said, "all class representatives are the same. That guy Nagumo is probably panicking right now, because he has to go through the same exam questions. However—"

He paused.

"For small fries, there's nothing to worry about. They'll be expelled sooner or later anyway, just a little earlier or later. Katsuragi, how many small fries do you think you have in Class C?"

Katsuragi frowned, and there was finally obvious displeasure in his eyes.

"Ryuen, what did you come here to say?" he asked directly. "Don't speak in these circles. I know very well what kind of person you are."

Ryuen smiled.

"Alright, then I'll speak directly."

He took another half step forward.

"I can sign a contract with you," Ryuen said.

"A contract?"

"Yes. In this exam, no matter what rank the group I'm in ends up with—even if it's last place, even if I'm the one who has to be tied for expulsion and do the nominating—I can guarantee that I won't nominate anyone from your Class C."

Katsuragi watched him without speaking.

"In other words," Ryuen spread his hands, "no one from your class will be expelled by our Class B. In exchange—"

"Points." Katsuragi took over the sentence. "You want points."

"Smart."

Katsuragi was silent for two seconds.

"You're collecting protection money," he said.

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