The classroom door slid open slowly.
Kamiki stepped in first, followed closely by Yamamura, whose steps were hesitant and timid.
In that instant, every eye in the room locked onto the door.
Within seconds, a deathly silence fell over the classroom.
The male students, in particular, grew visibly tense.
The guy who had been sitting with the school’s most popular girls at the cafe just yesterday was now walking in side-by-side with one of the most beautiful girls in their own class.
The boys began to grit their teeth in pure frustration.
The audible grinding of their jaws could be heard even from the back rows.
“Him again?” a boy in the back whispered venomously.
Yamamura was entirely unaccustomed to such intense, hostile stares.
Sensing the crushing pressure, she flinched.
She quickly cast her gaze downward and hurried through the rows of desks, practically shrinking into her seat.
Suddenly, a familiar voice drifted from the front row.
“Fufu…” Arisu Sakayanagi, her cane resting against her desk, fixed her purple eyes on Kamiki.
The mocking curl of her lips grew more pronounced.
“You really are quite the playboy, Kamiki-kun,” Sakayanagi said, her voice ringing clearly throughout the room.
“To think you even managed to draw out our invisible ghost.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sakayanagi-san,” Kamiki replied, his tone entirely flat.
He walked straight toward the teacher’s podium, taking a commanding position at the front of the class where everyone could see him.
He squared his shoulders.
“Everyone, look up here,” Kamiki ordered.
His voice wasn’t loud, but the command in it was absolute.
The whispering stopped instantly, cut off like a knife.
Angry as the boys were, they found themselves intimidated by his dominant aura.
“As of right now, we are establishing a study group,” Kamiki continued, his eyes sweeping across the room.
“Everyone will do everything in their power to raise their grades.” Baffled murmurs rippled through the class.
It was only the second day of school.
“Those with top marks, raise your hands,” Kamiki said.
A brief hesitation hung over the room.
Then, a large, serious-looking student in the front row raised his hand.
It was Kohei Katsuragi.
Immediately after, another hand went up from a nearby row.
The bespectacled, mild-mannered Kosei Sanada had raised his hand as well.
Kamiki looked at the two students and gave a slight shake of his head.
“Good,” Kamiki said.
“But we need more people.
We have to drag the entire class up together.” He shifted his gaze directly toward the middle and back rows, focusing on three specific individuals.
“Yamamura,” Kamiki called out first.
Hearing her name, Yamamura flinched slightly in her seat.
“Morishita,” Kamiki continued.
Ai Morishita kept staring back at him with her usual wide, expressionless eyes.
“And Hashimoto,” Kamiki concluded.
“The three of you will be joining them.
You will serve as group leaders.” The classroom froze.
Everyone was utterly stunned; nobody had expected these names.
The idea of making someone like Yamamura a leader was a complete shock.
Masayoshi Hashimoto leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.
His usual easygoing smirk played on his lips.
“Hey, Shirogane,” Hashimoto said in a casual tone.
“I don’t mind.
I’m fine with being a group leader.
Actually quite like it.” He shifted his gaze to Morishita, who sat a few rows ahead of him, and raised an eyebrow.
“But Morishita feels a bit out of place, don’t you think?” Hashimoto added, a clear note of skepticism in his voice.
“I mean…
I can’t even begin to picture how a group is supposed to study with her.
Isn’t it a bit weird?” Kamiki leaned forward slightly against the podium, placing both hands firmly on the desk.
He locked eyes with Hashimoto.
“Our goal isn’t just studying,” Kamiki said, his voice deep and resolute.
“We need to develop them socially as well.” Hashimoto raised an eyebrow.
“Social development?” he muttered.
“Yes,” Kamiki said, glancing briefly at Yamamura and Morishita.
“That’s why both of them will be group leaders.
Taking on responsibility helps a person grow.” No one in the room could find a counterargument to that logic.
Kamiki’s aura was far too intense to invite objections.
Just then, Arisu Sakayanagi intervened, lightly tapping the tip of her cane against the floor.
“Fufu…” Sakayanagi chuckled.
“What a noble thought, Shirogane-kun.” Kamiki turned his head toward her.
“Thank you, Sakayanagi-san.” Sakayanagi narrowed her eyes, asking in a teasing tone, “What about you?
Do you want to be a group leader?” Kamiki didn’t hesitate.
“I have other responsibilities,” he said.
“I am managing the overall order of the class.” Sakayanagi leaned back, her smile widening.
“Then I think I’ll pass as well, Shirogane-kun,” she said.
“I have absolutely no interest in that sort of work.” Kamiki nodded.
“Suit yourself,” he replied.
He then turned back to the entire class, raising his voice slightly.
“Alright then,” Kamiki announced.
“Everything is set.
Group up as you please.” The classroom stirred into motion as students began whispering to their neighbors.
Kamiki stepped away from the podium and turned to the serious-looking boy in the front row.
“Katsuragi,” Kamiki said.
Kohei Katsuragi instantly straightened up.
“Yes, Shirogane?” “The organization is on you,” Kamiki said, gesturing toward the class roster.
“You’ll be tracking this.
Work out who is in which group and what times they’ll be studying.” Katsuragi nodded solemnly.
“Understood,” he said.
“I’ll draft the necessary schedule tonight and present it to you.” “Excellent,” Kamiki said, his mask of leadership flawless.
“I’m counting on you.” From her desk, Yamamura stole a glance at Kamiki, her heart still pounding.
Thanks to him, she was now the leader of a group.
She felt terrified, yet oddly empowered.
Meanwhile, Ai Morishita just stared down at her own fingers.
“Leader…” she whispered to herself.
“Yet another title.” Kamiki pressed his hands against the podium again, leaning his upper body forward even more.
“Furthermore,” Kamiki said, his tone suddenly turning dead serious.
“From now on, everyone will undergo regular physical training.” A wave of shock rippled through the classroom.
The boys exchanged bewildered glances.
“What do you mean, training?” a student grumbled from the back.
Kamiki ignored the unrest.
He slowly panned his gaze across the front row until his eyes rested on Arisu Sakayanagi.
“With the exception of Sakayanagi-san,” Kamiki said, his voice entirely flat.
“Everyone will participate.” The tense atmosphere broke for a brief moment.
A few snickers escaped from the boys in the back, and some students couldn’t help but chuckle.
The relaxed smile on Sakayanagi’s face vanished instantly.
Her grip tightened on her cane, and a sharp, icy glint flared in her purple eyes.
“How incredibly rude, Kamiki-kun,” Sakayanagi said, her voice noticeably colder than usual.
“Bringing up my disability like that is in very poor taste.” “I’m just being realistic,” Kamiki said.
“It’s my duty to protect you.” Right at that moment, the screech of a chair echoed from the back of the room.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
Masumi Kamuro had straightened up in her seat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
The rest of the class stared daggers at her; the rumors about her shoplifting this morning had already spread everywhere.
Whispers began to break out in the back.
Kamuro completely ignored the pathetic whispering, tuning out the rest of the class entirely.
She looked directly into Kamiki’s eyes.
“Why are we training?” Kamuro demanded, her voice sharp and direct.
“This is a high school, not a military boot camp.” “An excellent question, Kamuro-san,” Kamiki said, taking a step out from behind the podium.
The classroom fell silent once more, everyone hanging on his response.
“Because this school,” Kamiki said, his voice echoing through the room, “will not just test us with our minds in the future.
It will force us to compete physically as well.” Hashimoto narrowed his eyes.
“Where are you getting that from, Shirogane?” Kamiki gripped both sides of the podium tightly, slowly scanning the room.
Everyone was captivated by his flawless delivery.
“Let me put it to you this way,” Kamiki said.
“In this school, being in Class A is everything.” The students held their breath.
“If you look at the upperclassmen,” Kamiki continued, “you’ll see a very strict hierarchy.
Classes A and B of the older years look down on the lower classes.” Hashimoto squinted.
“Couldn’t that just be a matter of seniority?” “No,” Kamiki stated firmly.
“Furthermore, if you look at our own year, the best students have been gathered in Class A.
Entrance exam results and aptitude maps prove it.” Katsuragi listened intently.
“So, the classes weren’t chosen at random.” “Exactly,” Kamiki nodded.
“This means the classes are in a constant state of competition with one of another.
Which brings us to a very vital conclusion.” He took a few steps forward, standing clear of the podium.
“The classes themselves have an overall score,” Kamiki said.
“Just like our individual points.” The classroom erupted into a sudden roar of murmurs.
Everyone looked at each other in sheer disbelief.
“A class score?” Kosei Sanada muttered.
“They didn’t say anything about that on the first day.” “They didn’t need to,” Kamiki said.
“Logic dictates it.
We will likely receive individual points based on our class score.” Arisu Sakayanagi twirled her cane between her fingers.
“Fufu…
An intriguing theory, Kamiki-kun,” she said.
“And what exactly are you basing this theory on?” Kamiki smiled faintly at Sakayanagi’s question.
He shifted his eyes up toward the black, dome-shaped objects resting in the corners of the ceiling, pointing at them.
“What did Mashima-sensei say yesterday?” Kamiki asked.
“When he was distributing our individual points, he said one specific phrase: ‘These points represent your worth.'” The students all looked up at the security cameras on the ceiling.
“Worth is not a fixed metric,” Kamiki continued.
“Our worth is constantly fluctuating.
And those cameras are there for exactly that reason.” A sudden wave of frantic whispering swept the room.
Everyone began to panic over the minor behavioral infractions they had committed during class yesterday.
“Now, let’s use some basic logic,” Kamiki said.
“Think about it.
How could Class D—a class less talented than us—ever hope to overtake us?” The classroom remained silent.
Nobody had an answer.
“If this school only tested us academically,” Kamiki said, “there would be absolutely no way for Class D to beat a Class A like us.
Academic-wise, it’s an impossibility.” Arisu Sakayanagi lightly tapped her cane against the floor, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Kamiki.
“Fufu…” Sakayanagi agreed.
“A correct assessment.
There is absolutely no feasibility of that happening.
In which case, the school will open up other avenues for them.” “Other avenues?” Hashimoto asked curiously.
“Like what?” “Special exams,” Kamiki said.
“Exams where we won’t just be sitting at desks solving tests.
Mind games, strategies, and the physical competitions I just mentioned.” Yamamura hung on Kamiki’s every word, completely spellbound by his foresight.
“The school will give the lower classes a chance to climb up,” Kamiki said.
“And it will place the burden of defending our position on us.
That’s why nobody has the luxury of making mistakes.” He walked away from the podium and began heading back toward his desk.
“That’s why the training and study groups are vital,” Kamiki said, casting one final look at the class.
“We will not let those below us drag us down.” Kamiki reached his desk and pulled his chair out slightly.
However, before sitting down, he paused.
He turned his gaze to the very back of the room, where a tall boy sat in an intimidating, dead silence.
Hayato Kito sat with his leather-gloved hands folded on his desk, his face completely devoid of expression.
His dark, harsh aura was enough to make everyone around him incredibly tense.
“Kito,” Kamiki said, his voice sharper this time.
Kito slowly lifted his head, locking his blue eyes onto Kamiki.
He gave a slight nod just to signal that he was listening.
“The physical training program will be run under your leadership,” Kamiki instructed.
Kito’s expression didn’t waver.
He simply cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing all the way to the front rows.
“If anyone tries to slack off during training,” Kamiki continued, his lips curving upward into a perfectly warm, smooth smile, “or if anyone thinks about running away…” The entire class watched him with bated breath.
“You have my permission to break their legs,” Kamiki said, still smiling.
The threat slipped from his flawless, handsome face so casually that cold sweat poured down the spines of everyone in the room.
It was impossible to tell if he was joking.
Beneath that reassuring smile lay a terrifying, chilling coldness.
“With pleasure,” Kito replied, his voice thick and deep.
The male students swallowed hard.
The mere thought of a titan like Kito looming over them during training completely obliterated any ideas of skipping out.
“Excellent,” Kamiki said, finally sitting down in his chair.
“Then the plan is finalized.
Everyone knows their duty.” When the final bell of the afternoon rang through the classroom, the heavy atmosphere instantly dissipated.
Students took deep breaths and began stuffing their books into their bags.
Kamiki rose slowly from his seat and slung his bag over one shoulder.
He turned his gaze to Masumi Kamuro, who was reluctantly getting up from her desk next to him.
Neither said a word.
A brief moment of eye contact was all it took.
Under the curious and intense glares of their classmates, they walked side-by-side toward the door.
The envious grumbles of the boys followed them out, but Kamiki ignored them entirely, as usual.
They stepped out of the classroom and into the main hallway, which was crowded with students pouring out of other rooms.
“Everyone’s staring at us,” Kamuro said, her voice carrying its usual grumpy, detached edge.
“Especially after that speech of yours.
You look like a total dictator in there.” Kamiki smiled faintly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.
“It’s not dictatorship, Kamuro-san,” Kamiki said.
“It’s just survival instinct.
If you don’t steer people toward a goal, they’ll end up destroying themselves.” “Whatever,” Kamuro muttered.
“Let’s just get this council business over with.
Just the thought of going there annoys me.” “President Horikita is expecting us,” Kamiki said.
“Securing a spot in the school’s student government will allow us to spot the system’s flaws much faster.” They walked up the stairs in silence, arriving at the top floor of the school building in front of a door bearing a heavy brass plaque: **Student Council Office.** Kamiki paused, adjusted his uniform slightly, and knocked twice.
“Enter,” a crisp voice called out from within.
Kamiki pushed the door open smoothly, and he and Kamuro stepped inside.
The student council office was spacious and immaculately organized.
Sitting behind a massive desk in the center of the room was Manabu Horikita.
He maintained his usual stern, cold, and authoritative posture, his sharp eyes locking onto the newcomers from behind his glasses.
Standing immediately to his left was the student council vice president, Akane Tachibana, clutching a stack of documents against her chest.
Sitting in a chair to the right of the desk, rather out of place, was Haruki Yamauchi.
Yamauchi looked incredibly nervous under the oppressive atmosphere of the room, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Manabu Horikita tore his gaze away from Kamiki and shifted it to the girl beside him, his face utterly devoid of emotion.
“Kamuro-san,” Manabu said, his voice echoing coldly through the room.
“Who is this with you?” Kamiki took a step forward.
A relaxed, almost mocking smile played on his face as he tilted his head slightly.
“Manabu,” Kamiki said, his tone that of a peer rather than a subordinate.
“I’m Masumi-chan’s lawyer.” The air in the room grew instantly heavier.
Yamauchi’s eyes widened in sheer shock.
Akane Tachibana’s brow furrowed instantly, practically shaking with rage.
She slammed her folder down on the desk and stepped forward.
“What an insolent underclassman!” Tachibana shouted, her voice trembling with anger.
“You are addressing the student council president!
Mind your tongue!” Kamiki didn’t even flinch.
His smile only widened as he turned his eyes to Tachibana.
“Please calm down, Tachibana-senpai,” Kamiki said.
“You…” Tachibana fumed, her temper flaring even more.
“He’s still talking!” “That’s enough, Tachibana,” Manabu said evenly.
Tachibana went silent immediately.
She stepped back, though she continued to glare at Kamiki as if she wanted to tear him apart.
Yamauchi straightened up angrily in his seat, slamming his hands on the desk.
“Kamiki, you’re a traitor!” Yamauchi yelled, his voice echoing in the room.
“How can you defend her?
You saw her too!” Kamiki remained perfectly composed, his expression unchanging.
“You should be defending me as an eyewitness!” Yamauchi continued, puffing out his chest.
“I’m on the side of justice!” Kamiki let out a quiet sigh to himself.
*This guy is a complete idiot,* he thought.
*He doesn’t even realize he’s digging his own grave.* The moment Yamauchi uttered those words, the mood in the room shifted.
Manabu Horikita’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he slowly turned his gaze toward Yamauchi.
“So, you were there as well,” Manabu said quietly.
“In that case, please take a seat,” Manabu added, gesturing to an empty chair.
“It seems we have a lot to discuss.” “What is your name?” Manabu asked, looking directly at Kamiki.
Kamiki smiled faintly and squared his shoulders, radiating absolute self-confidence.
“I am Kamiki Shirogane, Manabu-san,” Kamiki said, maintaining that relaxed, defiant edge to his voice.
Tachibana hissed sharply from the side.
“He’s still calling him ‘Manabu’…” she muttered through gritted teeth.
Manabu, however, raised a hand to silence Tachibana, his eyes never leaving Kamiki.
“Kamiki Shirogane,” Manabu repeated flatly.
“So, you’re the new leader candidate for Class A.” “Calling me a leader is an exaggeration.
I’m just protecting my class,” Kamiki replied, taking a step closer to Kamuro.
“And keeping my classmates safe from baseless accusations.” “Baseless?!” Yamauchi bellowed in outrage, looking as though he might leap out of his chair.
Manabu calmly raised his hand again, signaling for silence.
That single gesture was enough to choke the words right out of Yamauchi’s mouth.
The balance of authority in the room was instantly restored.
“Now,” Manabu said, his eyes shifting between Kamiki and Yamauchi.
“You may present your claims and evidence.” “Yes, President!” His classmate, Haruki Yamauchi, practically leaped out of his seat.
Puffing his chest out, he deliberately adopted an upright, stern demeanor, trying his best to look like a righteous champion of justice.
Yamauchi leaned forward eagerly over the desk, his words tumbling out in excitement.
“President, it’s completely open-and-shut.
Yesterday after school, I was at the convenience store.
This girl, Kamuro, was loitering between the aisles.
She thought nobody was watching her and she was moving fast, but I saw everything perfectly clear!
To make sure she couldn’t deny it later, I even caught it all on video with my phone!
All the incriminating evidence is right here on my phone!”