The next day, the lunch bell echoed through the school.
Without the slightest sense of urgency, the students of Class D streamed toward the cafeteria and Keyaki Mall, chatting and laughing as though nothing had changed.
Kaoru Hanayama remained seated.
He carefully organized the notes from that morning’s lessons, writing them neatly into his notebook.
“…Done.”
After setting down his pen, he realized he needed to use the restroom.
He rose from his seat and headed toward the men’s restroom.
In every world…
Whether it was the streets, prison, or school…
Restrooms, free from surveillance cameras, inevitably became places where power struggles unfolded.
Before Hanayama even stepped inside, a loud voice echoed from within.
“Hahaha! What’s wrong, Albert?!”
“Is that all someone your size can do?!”
Hanayama glanced through the doorway.
Inside, a huge foreign-looking student was grappling with a long-haired boy.
The larger student possessed an imposing physique that hardly resembled that of a high schooler.
(Albert…)
(The exchange student from Class C.)
His opponent…
The long-haired boy with the arrogant grin.
Hanayama recognized him immediately.
(That’s the boy from Class C who spoke during the entrance ceremony.)
To an ordinary observer, it looked as though the giant was bullying the smaller student.
Hanayama immediately recognized the opposite.
Albert wasn’t attacking.
He was defending.
Repeatedly trying to create distance.
The long-haired student, despite being physically inferior, relentlessly rushed forward like a wild dog.
He was thrown back.
He stood up.
Charged again.
Again and again.
“Guhahaha!”
“Pathetic!”
“Come on!”
Hanayama watched silently.
Only for a few seconds.
(I see…)
That boy wasn’t trying to defeat Albert physically.
He was testing him.
Breaking down his spirit.
Establishing dominance.
It was less a fight…
And more a ritual declaring who held authority.
Hanayama lost interest almost immediately.
What mattered wasn’t the confrontation itself.
It was what it revealed.
(So…)
(The leader is still personally forcing the class into line.)
(Class C hasn’t fully united yet.)
That made one thing clear.
Negotiating a business deal worth hundreds of thousands—or perhaps millions—of points with Class C right now would be pointless.
An unstable organization couldn’t guarantee any agreement.
Any contract could collapse tomorrow.
Not worth the effort.
“Move.”
“You’re blocking the sink.”
Having finished using the restroom, Hanayama calmly walked between the two boys.
He washed his hands as though nothing unusual were happening.
Ryūen Kakeru glared at him.
For a brief moment…
His eyes narrowed sharply.
Then…
“…Tch.”
He ignored him and turned his attention back to Albert.
Hanayama simply walked away.
Back inside Class D’s classroom, Hanayama retrieved a transparent document folder from his desk.
Inside were several pages of carefully organized notes.
Every deduction he had reached since the previous day had been rewritten into a clear, logical explanation.
The Class Point system.
Monthly point calculations.
Behavioral deductions.
The relationship between individual points and class performance.
Even his hypothesis regarding the privileges enjoyed by Class A.
This information was immensely valuable.
But…
No one would readily believe the claims of a first-year student who looked more like a yakuza than a scholar.
Information without credibility quickly lost value.
Which meant…
He needed someone to verify it.
(Every contract needs a witness.)
(That never changes.)
Hanayama entered the faculty office.
Most teachers were away enjoying their lunch break.
The room was unusually quiet.
Only one remained at his desk.
A broad-shouldered man with a wrestler’s build sat buried beneath a mountain of paperwork.
It was Satoshi Mashima, Class 1-A’s homeroom teacher.
“Excuse me.”
Mashima looked up.
“Hanayama-kun?”
“If you’re looking for Chabashira-sensei, she’s currently away from her desk.”
Hanayama shook his head.
“No.”
“I came to see you.”
Mashima raised an eyebrow.
Without another word, Hanayama placed the transparent folder on his desk.
“…Please read this.”
Mashima opened it.
His expression remained unchanged at first.
He slowly turned the pages.
Then…
His fingers stopped.
His eyes sharpened.
The document laid out, step by step, the hidden logic governing Advanced Nurturing High School.
The Class Point system.
Monthly evaluations.
Behavior deductions.
The probable privileges granted to Class A.
Everything had been deduced solely from observation and reasoning.
A student had reached these conclusions after only three days at the school.
“…Excellent.”
Mashima looked up.
“You’ve reached the correct conclusions.”
“There are almost no flaws in your reasoning.”
He smiled faintly.
“I also noticed yesterday that you copied every note from the board more diligently than anyone else.”
“Hanayama…”
“You’re an outstanding student.”
Hanayama remained expressionless.
“I intend to sell this information.”
Mashima’s smile disappeared.
“…I see.”
“So rather than simply helping your classmates…”
“You want to profit from it.”
“As a teacher…”
“I can’t exactly encourage that.”
“Things with value deserve an appropriate price.”
“If people receive something for free…”
“They rarely appreciate its worth.”
Mashima couldn’t help feeling impressed.
This wasn’t the mindset of an ordinary high school student.
It belonged to someone accustomed to the adult world.
“So.”
“What do you need from me?”
“You don’t require a teacher’s permission to sell information.”
“I need credibility.”
Hanayama pointed toward the document.
“No matter how accurate the contents are…”
“The value drops if people doubt the source.”
“But if the school officially certifies the document…”
“No one can question its authenticity.”
Mashima blinked.
He finally understood.
Hanayama wasn’t merely selling information.
He was maximizing its market value.
Mashima closed the folder.
“There is such a system.”
“The school can certify certain factual documents.”
He folded his hands.
“But certification isn’t free.”
“It costs 50,000 personal points.”
“Half of what every first-year receives at enrollment.”
Hanayama didn’t hesitate.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He held his student terminal over the reader on Mashima’s desk.
Beep.
50,000 points deducted.
Mashima looked at him with mild amusement.
“You know…”
“Fifty thousand points can buy a lot of food and entertainment here.”
Hanayama answered immediately.
“It’s called investing.”
“Spend fifty thousand now…”
“And earn many times that later.”
He paused.
“By the way…”
“I’ll give you twenty percent of whatever I earn from selling this information.”
“Consider it a commission.”
Mashima laughed quietly.
“A bribe?”
“A business proposal.”
Hanayama corrected him.
Mashima shook his head.
“I’ll decline.”
“I simply performed a service worth fifty thousand points.”
“That’s all.”
“The profit belongs to you.”
Then…
A faint smile crossed his face.
“However…”
“If you happen to sell that document to Class A…”
“I’d appreciate a small discount.”
Hanayama picked up the folder.
The official certification seal now appeared on the final page.
“I’ll give Class A preferential treatment.”
Mashima nodded.
“I’ll look forward to hearing how your business goes.”
Hanayama gave a slight nod before leaving the faculty office.
Mashima watched the giant student’s back disappear through the doorway.
(Class D…)
(Perhaps Chabashira has finally received a student capable of changing its fate.)