Asuna stood by the heavy mahogany desk, secretly gritting her teeth.
No matter how she looked at it, a student addressing their homeroom teacher with such blatant arrogance crossed a line.
Yet, Miwa Ashikaga didn’t explode.
The woman simply nodded, her expression unreadable.
“Yes.
I have no desire to waste time either,” Ashikaga said.
“Let’s keep this brief.”
What followed completely derailed Asuna’s train of thought.
“Your performance today was flawless,” the teacher continued, her gaze fixed on Asagiri.
“It aligned perfectly with…
no, it exceeded my expectations.”
Asuna blinked, her confusion evident.
Asagiri didn’t bother with riddles.
He leaned back into the plush leather sofa, crossing his legs with casual indifference.
“It’s simple,” Asagiri said, his voice deadpan.
“Ashikaga-sensei and I struck a deal a while back.
She wanted me to enroll in Shuchiin Academy.
In exchange, she provides me with a few necessary privileges within her jurisdiction—skipping classes at will, unlimited leave, and a full exemption from tuition.”
“Huh?
Why…” Asuna blurted out, the absurdity of the situation breaking her composure.
Shuchiin Academy was the pinnacle of elite education.
Why would an institution of that caliber bend over backward, practically begging a single teenager to attend?
Ashikaga pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
The lenses caught the overhead light, obscuring her eyes for a brief second.
“Since Utsunomiya-san trusts you, I will speak plainly.”
Her tone dropped, hardening into cold steel.
“I am thoroughly disgusted with the current state of Shuchiin Academy.”
She paced toward the window, looking down at the pristine courtyard below.
“This institution was built to be the cradle of Sakura Prefecture’s brightest minds.
The undisputed apex of high schools.
Our graduates are meant to command the political, corporate, and military sectors of tomorrow.”
A bitter sneer twisted her lips.
“But look at what this so-called cradle has devolved into.”
She turned back, her eyes flashing with unconcealed contempt.
“A pathetic gathering of spoiled young masters and sheltered heiresses who have never tasted a single genuine setback.
They harbor this foolish, baseless arrogance, convinced of their inherent superiority.
In reality, their capabilities are mediocre at best.
They are nothing more than naive, overgrown infants kept alive by the greenhouse of Shuchiin.”
Ashikaga’s fingers tightened on the edge of the window sill.
“Then there is the Pure-blood faction.
It makes my stomach turn.”
She let out a heavy breath.
“Handing the future of Sakura Prefecture over to these parasites?
I refuse to let that happen.”
The fire in her voice dimmed, replaced by a weary sigh.
“However, when I brought this up at the board meeting—when I demanded reform—I was shut down.
The fiercest opposition came from the current chairman, Oko Shinomiya.”
Ashikaga’s jaw tightened.
“He claimed that Shuchiin’s students are a superior breed.
That my concerns were baseless.
He even had the audacity to dismiss my proposal as a mere ‘woman’s opinion,’ entirely unworthy of the board’s time.”
Asuna’s brow furrowed in sharp disgust.
“That’s completely out of line…
To use a phrase like ‘woman’s opinion’ in an official board meeting…
What kind of chairman is he?”
“Exactly the kind of man you’d expect,” Ashikaga replied dismissively.
She shifted her attention back to the boy lounging on her sofa.
“I was out of options.
Then, I discovered Utsunomiya Asagiri.
I realized that if he entered Shuchiin as a first-year, he possessed the exact qualities needed to shatter the academy’s stagnant atmosphere.”
“Ah?
Why him?” Asuna asked.
She knew Ashikaga was completely unaware of Asagiri’s true identity as a ‘Player’ in the death games.
To this teacher, he was just a normal high schooler.
How could one teenager fix decades of institutional rot?
“You clearly don’t know him very well,” Ashikaga noted dryly.
She gestured toward Asagiri like a museum curator presenting a lethal weapon.
“Allow me to introduce him properly.
Utsunomiya-san is the absolute top scorer of this year’s Sakura Prefecture joint examinations, as well as the valedictorian of the Shuchiin entrance exam.
During his second and third years of middle school, he secured the national singles championship in tennis, the national singles championship in badminton, and led his team to the national basketball championship.”
Asagiri, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling, suddenly sat up.
He leveled a flat glare at the teacher.
“Hold on.
Is that it?” he demanded.
“Are you just going to skip over my most important, most glorious achievement?”
Ashikaga rubbed her temples, a flash of deep exhaustion crossing her face.
“Right.
There is one more thing.”
“During his third year, five older delinquents cornered him in an alleyway to extort him for cash.
Utsunomiya-san systematically beat all five of them until they required intensive hospital care.
He walked away with a scratched knuckle.” She paused, her voice dripping with dry disbelief.
“Though I still fail to comprehend why he considers this his crowning glory.”
Asagiri smirked, entirely unrepentant.
“So, you see,” Ashikaga concluded quietly.
“A student like him—someone who effortlessly dominates both academics and athletics to an absurd degree, yet enters as a lowly transfer—is a walking provocation.
His mere existence is a poisoned blade to those Pure-blood elitists who think they own the world.”
“Alright, that’s enough exposition for one day,” Asagiri interrupted, clapping his hands once.
He scanned the spacious office, then offered Ashikaga a polite, utterly insincere smile.
“Yuuki-san and I have some private matters to discuss.
Ashikaga-sensei, why don’t you go grab some lunch?”
Ashikaga stared at him.
“You are kicking me out of my own office.”
It wasn’t a question.
She reached into her blazer, pulled out a brass key, and dropped it onto the mahogany desk with a sharp clink.
“This is the spare,” she said, turning toward the door.
“Lock up when you leave.”
The heavy oak door clicked shut, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet room.
The playful arrogance vanished from Asagiri’s demeanor, replaced by a cold, calculating edge.
He looked at Asuna.
“Now for the actual business.
You’ve checked the messages in the APP?”
Asuna nodded, her spine straightening.
“I saw them.”
“Do you live alone?” he asked bluntly.
“At the moment, yes.”
“Convenient.”
Asuna didn’t misinterpret the remark.
There was nothing suggestive in his tone.
‘Convenient’ simply meant her empty apartment was a secure staging ground for entering the deadly dungeons without drawing civilian attention.
She pressed her lips together, planting both hands firmly on her thighs.
Her amber eyes locked onto his, burning with sudden intensity.
“Let me tell you where I stand,” Asuna said, her voice steady.
“I think we need to stop waiting around.
We should actively sign up for the next dungeon immediately.”
[Inorin’s Note:
Hey guys, hope you’re enjoying the novel!
Hate waiting for updates and cliffhangers?