/ Encountering the Silver-Haired Girl 5: Was Shimizu Lying to Test Me?
/ Encountering the Silver-Haired Girl Chapter 5: Was Shimizu Lying to Test Me?
/ Encountering the Silver-Haired Girl Chabashira Sae slowly lowered her phone.
Her index finger tapped a steady, rhythmic beat against the surface of her desk.
The resolution had arrived far faster than she anticipated.
Less than half an hour had passed between the malicious lowering of Kouenji Rokusuke’s score and the School Administration issuing their final verdict.
The staff members involved in the grading discrepancy were immediately dismissed.
The whistleblower received a quiet transfer of fifty thousand Private Points in hush money.
Kouenji’s placement in Class D remained entirely unchanged.
“Just as expected.” She let out a quiet scoff and tossed her phone onto the desk.
Having taught at the Advanced Nurturing High School for eight years, she knew the underlying mechanics of this institution better than anyone.
Every student received a permanent label the moment they sat for their entrance interview.
Class A consisted of carefully curated geniuses.
Class D was nothing more than a dumping ground for abandoned, defective products.
One hundred and sixty available spots meant one hundred and sixty disposable pawns.
From the second the class assignments were finalized, their respective fates were sealed in stone.
In this ruthless environment, the only students guaranteed a flawless advancement and employment rate were the chosen elites sitting in Class A.
Chabashira shifted her attention to the Class D roster glowing on her monitor.
Her gaze locked onto the entrance evaluation data for Shimizu Akira.
[Academic Ability: E-] [Judgment: B] [Intelligence: E-] [Physical Ability: A] [Teamwork Ability: E-] Her tapping finger paused.
The capability assessment on file was utterly unremarkable.
Aside from his slightly above-average physical and judgment metrics, every other category was stamped with a glaring, abysmal failing mark.
Being relegated to Class D with such a disastrous academic profile was a matter of course.
Yet the articulate, calculating demeanor the boy displayed in her office just moments ago formed a jarring contrast with this official report.
She picked her phone back up, swiped through her pending friend requests, located the name Shimizu Akira, and accepted it without a second thought.
“Interesting.” A cold, sharp smile curled the corner of her lips.
The School Administration had just emphasized over the phone that the criteria for class assignments remained a strict secret, known only to a handful of high-level executives.
It was absolutely impossible for a standard interviewer to have muttered something like, “A student this arrogant should go to Class D.” “So, was Shimizu lying on purpose just to test me?” Chabashira leaned back in her chair, her eyes tracing over that overly perfect, artificially low assessment.
Perhaps his report regarding Kouenji was not born out of some naive sense of justice at all.
It was a carefully constructed probe.
The boy had likely already seen through the reality of Class D being a containment zone for defectives.
Her finger resumed its quiet tapping against the wood.
“So that is how it is…” She whispered to the empty room, a playful arc settling onto her features.
His subsequent inquiry about the Student Council was not born of idle curiosity either.
He was actively hunting for evidence to verify his hypothesis regarding the twisted rules governing the academy.
In a school that strictly enforced a meritocratic system, the position of Student Council President was naturally reserved for the most outstanding individual on campus.
Horikita Manabu, widely regarded as the most exceptional Student Council President in the history of the school, hailed from Class 3-A without any suspense.
Those two pieces of information were all Shimizu needed to confirm his theory.
Class A represented the absolute elite, while Class D was the designated gathering place for the flaws and failures.
Had he truly analyzed the entire structure of the school and formulated a test for his homeroom teacher less than a minute after hearing her initial speech?
“Could it be…
that this year’s Class D actually has the potential…” Her voice carried a rare, almost imperceptible waver.
In her eight years of teaching, she had watched countless batches of students pass through these halls.
She had never encountered a single freshman capable of seeing through the S-System on the very first day of enrollment.
Even among the geniuses of Class A, such terrifying intuition was exceptionally rare.
“Ha!
This year’s Class A is really something else!” A deep, booming voice shattered the quiet atmosphere of the office.
Mashima Tomoya, her longtime colleague and the homeroom teacher for Class A, leaned heavily against the doorframe.
His sturdy, imposing physique blocked out most of the hallway light.
Chabashira glanced up, noting a rare expression of genuine amazement plastered across Mashima’s usually stern face.
“That Sakayanagi Arisu in my class,” Mashima rubbed the rough stubble on his chin, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I had barely finished explaining the basic school rules when she chased me down.
She deduced the absolute truth behind the merit-based class assignments and the Private Point system without making a single error.” He crossed his arms, his tone dropping into a low mutter.
“In previous years, a few sharp students eventually figured it out, but it was always through analyzing the behavior of the upperclassmen.
She is the first one to piece together the entire puzzle based solely on the few vague words I gave them.” “She even told me she was heading to the convenience store to confirm a few things.” Mashima scratched the back of his head, looking thoroughly perplexed.
“She is most likely looking for those free supplies, right?” Chabashira was all too familiar with the special benefits hidden in the obscure corners of the campus convenience store.
They were basic relief supplies, specifically prepared by the School Administration to keep financially ruined students from starving.
During her early days at the school, she had witnessed far too many Class D students struggling to survive on those exact rations.
But to deduce the existence of that safety net before even stepping foot inside the store?
Chabashira quickly pulled up the centralized database and accessed Sakayanagi Arisu’s file.
The screen displayed near-perfect scores across the board.
Aside from physical and teamwork abilities, every other metric was stamped with a prominent, obvious A grade.
With a monster of that caliber sitting in the classroom, it was practically guaranteed that she would seize absolute control of Class A in the near future.
‘Will he win?’ Chabashira found her thoughts drifting back to Shimizu.
To achieve a perfect graduation, one had to ascend to the throne of Class A.
That meant Shimizu Akira would eventually have to face Sakayanagi Arisu in a brutal, unforgiving war of attrition.
By the time Shimizu stepped through the automatic sliding doors of the campus convenience store, the interior was already packed with a chaotic swarm of excited freshmen.
Students wove between the crowded aisles, their shopping baskets overflowing with expensive snacks, premium drinks, and luxury daily necessities.
It was obvious that the initial deposit of one hundred thousand Private Points had completely blinded them, prompting a massive, reckless spending spree.
Shimizu ignored the bustling crowds.
His calm gaze swept methodically across the various shelves, analyzing the layout of the store until he spotted a small, neglected section tucked away in the deepest corner.
A modest sign hung above the rack, bearing a simple label.
Free to Take.
Various essential items were arranged in neat, unassuming rows.
Band-aids, blank notebooks, generic shampoo, and simple toiletry sets sat waiting for anyone desperate enough to claim them.
A prominent notice printed next to the items outlined a strict rule.
Each student was limited to taking exactly three items per month.
He stood at a distance, observing the area in complete silence.
After a few minutes, several older students approached the corner one after another.
Their expressions were haggard, their shoulders slumped with an exhausted, weary posture.
They skillfully grabbed their allotted daily necessities from the free shelf, keeping their heads down as they hurried away from the oblivious, wealthy freshmen.
Shimizu narrowed his eyes slightly.
The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place, solidifying the conclusion he had already formed in his mind.
“You have been observing the store ever since you walked in, yet your gaze has remained entirely fixated on the free supplies area.
You must have noticed those seniors from Class D, right?
It seems you, much like myself, have already seen through the truth behind the point distribution.” A smooth, inquisitive voice drifted over from his side, carrying a distinct tone of refined amusement.
Shimizu turned his head toward the source of the interruption.
A silver-haired girl stood near the edge of the shelving unit, her small hands resting lightly on the handle of an elegant wooden cane.
A pure white bow tie rested at her collar, perfectly complementing her almost translucent, porcelain skin.
She looked less like a high school student and more like a finely carved, flawless ice sculpture brought to life.
At this moment, her playful, intelligent eyes were locked onto him, watching his every move with immense interest.