Yamauchi’s confident declaration hit the room like a bombshell.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and slammed it onto the desk with a smug grin.
Akane Tachibana took a sharp breath, her eyes locking onto Kamiki.
Horikita Manabu, however, didn’t lose his composure for a second.
Slowly shifting his gaze from Yamauchi’s phone, he looked straight at Kamiki.
“Shirogane,” Manabu said, his voice bearing its usual detached coldness.
“What is your defense?” Kamiki took a subtle step to the side.
The flawless, smooth smile on his face didn’t falter even a millimeter.
He glanced at the phone on the desk out of the corner of his eye.
“President,” Kamiki began, his tone remarkably calm and relaxed.
“I believe this is nothing more than a provocation engineered by another mastermind behind the scenes.” Manabu’s eyebrows twitched upward slightly.
He placed his pen down on the desk.
“What do you mean by that?” Manabu asked directly.
Kamiki interlaced his hands behind his back, maintaining his perfect posture as he continued.
“Yesterday, I was at that convenience store with Kamuro,” Kamiki said, his voice dripping with absolute certainty.
“I am positive she didn’t steal a single thing.” Kamuro snapped her head up to look at Kamiki, a faint trace of surprise flickering in her eyes.
“Furthermore,” Kamiki continued, immediately locking eyes with Yamauchi.
“Yamauchi-kun wasn’t even at that store yesterday.” Yamauchi froze.
The triumphant look on his face cracked, his eyes widening in sudden panic.
“T-That…
How is that even possible?!” Yamauchi barked, his voice starting to tremble.
“I’m telling you, I caught it on video!
The proof is right there!” Kamiki took a step forward, closing the distance to intensify the psychological pressure, staring dead into Yamauchi’s eyes.
“In that case, Yamauchi-kun, could you tell us exactly which store we were at yesterday?” Kamiki asked, his lips curling into a mocking smirk.
“And please, include the exact time as well.” Yamauchi swallowed hard in panic.
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
He could feel everyone’s eyes in the room boring into him.
He scrambled to rack his brain.
“It…
It was in the afternoon!” Yamauchi blurted out.
“At the large convenience store right outside the school gates!” The moment Yamauchi gave his answer, a deathly silence fell over the room.
Horikita Manabu adjusted his glasses slightly.
He had already reviewed the official reports.
The data provided by the school administration and security regarding yesterday’s student movements was sitting right on his desk.
He knew with absolute certainty that this answer was wrong.
Kamiki took a deep breath, his smile widening.
“Unfortunate.
That is the wrong answer, Yamauchi-kun,” Kamiki said, his voice as clinical and definitive as a referee’s verdict.
Yamauchi was utterly shell-shocked.
“W-What do you mean, wrong?!” he stammered.
Kamiki glanced back at Kamuro.
“We never went to the store near the school gates yesterday.
After the opening ceremony, we visited the store near the park, right by the rear exit.” All color drained from Yamauchi’s face.
His hands began to shake violently.
“You…” Yamauchi choked out.
“You’re lying!” “I am not,” Kamiki countered smoothly, turning back to Manabu.
“I am certain President Horikita has already checked the security footage of that shop and verified our whereabouts at that hour.
Am I wrong, Manabu-san?” Manabu remained silent, but the validating look in his eyes spoke volumes.
Kamiki was right.
The paperwork confirmed Shirogane’s words.
Tachibana turned on Yamauchi in disbelief.
“Yamauchi!
Did you seriously lie to the Student Council?!” she snapped.
“No!
I…
I just…” Yamauchi was completely cornered.
Kamiki reached toward the phone on the desk.
“Then what is the deal with this video, Yamauchi-kun?” he mused.
“Most likely, someone handed this footage to you and sent you here.
All to stir up discord within our class.” Kamiki didn’t actually touch the phone; he merely hovered his index finger over the screen.
“Manabu-san,” Kamiki’s voice resonated through the room.
“As you know, this video has already been leaked across the school by Yamauchi-kun.
Because of that, I had the opportunity to analyze it early this morning.” “And because I watched it with the utmost care, I discovered that this supposed ‘evidence’ presented by our classmate Yamauchi contains some severe fabrications.
In other words, it is a meticulously edited, fraudulent video designed purely to frame Kamuro-san.” Hearing this, Yamauchi flinched in his seat, his eyes darting around frantically.
“You’re slandering me!” “Silence!” Manabu narrowed his eyes, leaning slightly closer to the phone on the desk.
“Please elaborate, Shirogane,” Manabu commanded.
Kamiki moved a step closer, bringing his finger near the screen without making contact.
“Please look closely at the footage,” Kamiki pointed out.
“In the opening seconds, Kamuro-san is standing in front of a shelf.
This part is genuine.” Tachibana and Manabu leaned in, focusing intensely on the screen.
Yamauchi, meanwhile, had begun to shudder.
“However, during the exact seconds where she supposedly slips the beer into her pocket,” Kamiki continued, his voice fluid and effortless, “the background lighting and audio layout change entirely.” “What do you mean?” Tachibana murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.
“It’s quite simple, Tachibana-senpai,” Kamiki explained.
“The ambient noise of the store abruptly cuts out during those seconds.
The angle of the light shifts from a top-down angle to a side angle.
Furthermore, they overlooked the most damning piece of evidence.” “Which is?” Manabu asked, his gaze sharpening.
“The shadow of the broom in the background,” Kamiki said, his lips twisting into a sinister smirk.
“In the first scene, the shadow of the broom next to the shelf is cast clearly against the wall.
Yet, the moment the alleged theft occurs, that shadow suddenly vanishes.” “Which means,” Kamiki turned his gaze back to Yamauchi, “this is a composite of two entirely different videos.
Kamuro-san was merely walking through the store.
The girl who actually put the beer in her pocket was of a completely different height and build.” Manabu picked up the phone and switched off the screen.
“Enough,” Manabu declared.
His voice instantly drained the warmth from the room.
“The matter is settled.” Tachibana whirled on Yamauchi in a fury.
“You dared to manipulate the Student Council with falsified evidence?!” she shouted.
“President, I swear, I was set up!” Yamauchi wailed, tears welling in his eyes.
He pointed a trembling finger at Kamiki, screaming frantically, “Shirogane was the one who gave me this video!” Everyone in the room caught their breath.
Akane Tachibana gasped, her eyes widening in utter shock as she stared at Kamiki.
“I don’t know why he’s doing any of this, but he’s framing me!” Yamauchi continued, his voice a pathetic mix of despair and desperation.
“He told me to use this video to threaten Kamuro-san and blackmail her!
Kamiki planned the whole thing!” Horikita Manabu’s gaze turned ice-cold.
Behind his glasses, his eyes locked dead onto Kamiki in response to the sudden accusation.
The silence in the room grew heavier and far more dangerous than before.
Yet, Kamiki didn’t even flinch under the weight of the accusation.
The seamless, serene smile remained perfectly intact on his face.
He let out a soft, amused sigh, looking down at Yamauchi as if pitying a child throwing a tantrum.
“My friend, Yamauchi,” Kamiki said, his voice incredibly soft yet carrying an immense weight.
“Levying false accusations is a severe offense.
Doing so right in front of the Student Council…
I must say, I admire your sheer recklessness.” “You’re lying!” Yamauchi sobbed, choking on his words.
“You’re the one who dragged me into this!” Completely ignoring Yamauchi’s desperate struggles, Kamiki slipped his hand into his blazer’s inner pocket and retrieved his own smartphone.
He walked straight up to Horikita Manabu’s desk.
“President,” Kamiki said, unlocking the device and placing it on the desk directly in front of Manabu.
“This is my personal phone.
Feel free to inspect all my call logs, message history, and data transfers right now.” Manabu stared down at the phone.
Kamiki’s absolute ease demonstrated just how flawless his position was.
And naturally, Kamiki had every reason to be confident.
Thanks to a specialized formatting tool he had acquired from a tech shop just yesterday, the device had already been scrubbed entirely clean.
Manabu cast a cold glance at the phone.
Witnessing Shirogane’s absolute confidence, Yamauchi’s trembling grew worse.
“Tachibana,” Manabu ordered, his eyes never leaving Kamiki.
“Contact the technical department on behalf of the Student Council and have them analyze this phone.” “Right away, President,” Akane Tachibana replied.
She stepped forward immediately, snatched the device from the desk, and marched out of the room, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
The ensuing silence in the room was suffocating.
Yamauchi was biting his nails raw, constantly stealing panicked glances at Kamiki.
Kamiki, on the other hand, stood there as relaxed as someone waiting for a cup of coffee at a cafe.
Exactly ten minutes later, the ringing of the landline phone on Manabu’s desk broke the tension.
Manabu reached out and picked up the receiver.
Tachibana’s agitated voice came through from the other end.
Manabu simply listened, the rigid expression on his face never softening for a second.
“Understood,” Manabu said flatly before placing the receiver back down.
Adjusting his glasses, he looked first at Yamauchi, then at Kamiki.
“The phone is entirely clean,” Manabu announced, his voice echoing coldly through the room.
“There are no signs of deleted data streams or hidden transfers.
Within the last 48 hours, there has been zero direct or indirect interaction with Yamauchi.” In that single moment, Yamauchi’s world imploded.
His eyes bulged as he tried to push himself up from his chair, using the armrests for support.
“That’s impossible!
He did it!
I’m telling you, he set me up!” he shrieked.
“That is enough, Yamauchi,” Manabu interrupted, his voice dropping like an executioner’s axe.
“Presenting fraudulent evidence, misleading the Council, and fabricating malicious slander against a fellow classmate.
In accordance with school regulations, you will be expelled, and this incident will be permanently recorded on your personal file.
Do you have anything else to say in your defense?” Yamauchi’s knees buckled completely.
He no longer possessed the strength to sit upright, slumping down into his chair as if melting into the seat.
The final spark of desperation in his eyes dissolved into absolute despair and terror.
“This can’t be happening…
This can’t be happening…” Yamauchi whimpered, his voice fading to a barely audible whisper.
“He set me up…
He gave me the video…” Manabu paid no mind to Yamauchi’s pathetic whimpering or the way he shrank into his seat.
Disregarding the broken boy entirely, he turned his gaze to Kamuro.
“Kamuro-san,” Manabu said, his tone smooth and level.
“The Student Council apologizes for the inconvenience caused to you.
Your innocence has been proven.
You are dismissed.” Kamuro let out a deep breath and stood up from her chair, her shoulders relaxing as the invisible pressure finally lifted.
“So, Masumi-chan?” Kamiki murmured, his eyes scanning over her.
“Fabulous defense attorney, wouldn’t you say?” Knowing that the heavy atmosphere of the room and Horikita Manabu’s sharp gaze were still fixed on them, Kamuro fought down the urge to roll her eyes at Kamiki’s casual behavior.
She hurried toward the exit, muttering under her breath so only he could hear.
“Yeah, yeah…
You’re amazing,” she whispered.
Kamiki let out a soft chuckle at her aloof response.
He then turned back toward the authoritative figure behind the desk, straightening his spine into a poised, respectful posture.
“Thank you for your impartial judgment and justice, President,” Kamiki said.
The brilliant, sharp glint in his eyes threw a silent challenge at Manabu from beneath his respectful mask.
Horikita Manabu narrowed his eyes slightly as he gathered the documents on his desk.
Shirogane Kamiki’s immaculate execution—leaving absolutely zero evidence behind while effortlessly expelling a classmate with a single move—aroused immense suspicion.
This boy was far more dangerous than he let on.
“I am merely executing my duties, Shirogane,” Manabu replied, his voice deepening.
“In this school, the rules apply to everyone.
Evidence talks, not intentions.” “Indubitably,” Kamiki agreed smoothly.
Just then, the heavy wooden door of the office swung open.
Akane Tachibana stepped back inside, clutching a stack of files tightly against her chest, the remnants of shock still painted on her face.
Horikita Manabu looked up, his gaze locking onto her instantly.
His voice cut through the air like ice.
“Tachibana,” Manabu commanded.
“Initiate the expulsion protocols for Haruki Yamauchi.” Tachibana straightened up immediately.
“Understood, President,” she replied.
Hearing those words, Yamauchi let out a ragged sob.
“President…
Please…” he begged, his voice completely broken.
Kamiki took a step back from the desk.
The flawless, pristine smile remained etched on his face.
He shifted his gaze toward Tachibana standing by the door, tilting his head slightly.
“Thanks for the assistance, Loli-senpai,” Kamiki said, his tone incredibly smooth and laced with a teasing mockery.
Tachibana’s eyes snapped wide open, her cheeks flushing crimson with rage.
“W-Who are you calling a loli?!” she shrieked, nearly dropping the files in her arms.
“What an incredibly rude kohai!” “Calm down, senpai,” Kamiki chuckled softly.
“I was merely jesting.” “President!
Say something to him!” Tachibana snapped, turning to Manabu while practically vibrating with anger.
Manabu, however, remained silent.
He narrowed his sharp eyes behind his glasses, merely observing Kamiki.
The boy’s reckless, nonchalant demeanor failed to hide the terrifying intellect lurking beneath.
Without delaying any further, Kamiki abruptly turned toward Kamuro.
In an unexpected move, he reached out and firmly grasped her cold hand.
Kamuro flinched, her eyes widening in shock.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she hissed sharply, trying to yank her hand away.
But Kamiki’s grip was unyielding.
“Our business here is concluded, Masumi-chan,” he said smoothly.
Dragging Kamuro along behind him, he swiftly exited the room, pulling the door shut with a solid thud.
The Student Council Room fell into a sudden, heavy silence.
Tachibana stared at the closed door, gritting her teeth.
“That kid…
President, why did you let him off like that?” she muttered.
Manabu placed his pen back down on the desk.
“Because he was right, Tachibana,” he answered, his voice incredibly deep.
“We have absolutely no evidence.” “But what Yamauchi said…” “Yamauchi was a mere pawn,” Manabu said, turning his gaze toward the window.
“The real threat is Shirogane Kamiki, who leaves no trace behind.
He possesses the power to completely shatter the balance of power in this school.” Tachibana swallowed hard.
It was the first time she had ever heard the President speak so gravely about a first-year student.
Meanwhile, the two were walking briskly down the wide, empty corridor.
Kamiki still hadn’t let go of Kamuro’s hand.
“Let go of me!” Kamuro hissed.
With a sharp tug, she finally managed to wrench her hand free.
She stopped in her tracks, glaring daggers at Kamiki.
“What the hell are you trying to pull?” Kamiki stopped as well.
He turned around, leaning his back against the corridor wall and slipping his hands into his pockets.
“I just rescued you from that suffocating room,” Kamiki said, the corners of his lips curling upward.
“Don’t I deserve a thank you?” “I’m not thanking you for anything,” Kamuro retorted, her voice cold and irritable, though her heart was still hammering against her ribs.
Kamiki shook his head lightly, the infuriatingly smooth smile on his lips widening.
“Fine, fine,” Kamiki conceded, intentionally softening his tone.
“No need to thank me.
Come on, let’s head back to the dorms.” Kamiki turned on his heel and began walking with long, easy strides.
Kamuro hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Taking a deep breath, she hurried to catch up with him, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls.
Once she drew level with him, she couldn’t suppress the question burning in her mind any longer.
“Why did you tell me your entire plan from the very beginning?” Kamuro demanded, her voice still thick with suspicion.
“Why did you approach me this morning under the guise of that chore and explain everything step by step?” Early that morning, Kamiki had approached Kamuro to inform her about the video that was beginning to circulate around the school.
He had given her a singular instruction: *”When Yamauchi comes to threaten you with that video, look down on him as much as possible.
Treat him like absolute filth.”* Kamuro kept her pace, continuing her interrogation.
“You didn’t even need to tell me that.
Even if you hadn’t, if a loser like Yamauchi tried to corner and threaten me, I would have made his life a living hell anyway.
So why did you dictate it to me like it was some kind of ‘mission’?
It makes no sense.” Kamiki stopped.
They had reached the top of the stairs at the end of the corridor.
He slowly turned his face toward Kamuro.
“You overthink things, Masumi-chan,” Kamiki murmured, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“I already told you before.
In the future, you are going to be my right hand.
This morning’s little task…
was merely a brief internship for you.” Kamuro’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
“An internship?!” she hissed.
“Are you mocking me?” Kamiki took a step back, angling his head slightly as he placed a foot on the top step.
His lips curved into a grin, blending a thoroughly fluid, teasingly flirtatious undertone into his voice.
“Besides…” Kamiki added, his eyes slowly tracing over her form.
“Keeping secrets from beautiful girls isn’t really my style.
Especially when that girl happens to be quite precious to me.” For a moment, Kamuro was utterly at a loss for words.
*’Beautiful girl…?’* she echoed internally.
A sudden wave of heat rushed to her face, painting her cheeks and ears a brilliant crimson.
Faced with Kamiki’s effortless, disarming compliments, her defensive walls crumbled entirely.
Frustrated, she whirled away, quickened her pace, and brushed past him to storm off toward the dorms.
“Idiot,” Kamuro muttered, trying to hide her cracking composure.
“You’re nothing but a smooth talker.” Kamiki let out a genuine laugh as he watched her fluster.
As Kamuro strode ahead of him, an abstract status panel—invisible to anyone else—manifested before Kamiki’s eyes.
He swiftly scanned the system data, pulling up Kamuro Masumi’s profile and focusing directly on a specific parameter: > [ Affection Gauge – Kamuro Masumi: 48 ] Matching his strides to her pace from behind, Kamiki made a brief mental evaluation.
*Compared to yesterday’s -5 points, a jump to 48 is quite an impressive leap,* he thought to himself.
“Hey, Masumi-chan!” Kamiki called out cheerfully from behind her.
“Don’t walk so fast.
We need to discuss what we’re having for dinner.” Kamuro accelerated even further.
“I am not having dinner with you, Shirogane,” she barked, her voice echoing sharply down the hall.
Kamiki caught up effortlessly, falling perfectly into step beside her.
The pristine, boyish smile was right back on his face.
“How can that be?” he asked, throwing his hands out in mock astonishment.
“You promised me you would cook a delicious dinner tonight, Masumi-chan.” Kamuro halted abruptly, spinning around to face him.
She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him intensely.
“I don’t recall making any such promise,” she snapped.
“Stop fabricating scenarios in your head.” Kamiki stopped too.
He closed the remaining distance between them in a single step, halting just inches away from her.
He tilted his head downward slightly.
“Are you certain?” Kamiki whispered.
His voice instantly shed its cheerful demeanor, shifting into a deep, velvety cadence.
Before Kamuro could process the sudden shift, Kamiki leaned down slowly toward her ear.
His warm breath brushed against her skin as he murmured: “The original video is still sitting on the computer in my room, Masumi-chan.
You know, the genuine, unedited footage of you actually shoplifting…” Kamuro’s entire body froze instantly.
Her eyes stretched wide in absolute shock, her teeth grinding together so hard they rattled.
He had obliterated Yamauchi’s sloppy edit, but the actual, damning evidence was held in the hands of the very boy who had just rescued her.
She was being blatantly blackmailed by this absolute monster.
Yamauchi was gone, but in his place stood an incomparably larger, far more ruthless predator.
“You…” Kamuro hissed, her voice vibrating with pure rage.
“You are an absolute piece of trash.” Kamiki pulled back, the diabolical yet pristine smile resting flawlessly on his face.
“I am waiting for your answer, Masumi-chan,” he prompted gently.
Kamuro inhaled deeply.
She had no choice.
Averting her gaze, she forced the words out.
“Fine,” she whispered, her voice tighter and quieter than ever before.
“Fine, I’ll cook for you.” Kamiki’s eyes instantly lit up with childlike glee, acting as though the dark, manipulative mind that had just threatened her a second ago didn’t even exist.
“Really?
Thank you so much!” he cheered happily.
Before Kamuro could even blink, Kamiki reached out again and tightly grasped her slender hand.
“Then we must hurry and pick out the ingredients!” he exclaimed.
“Let go of my hand, I can walk by myself!” Kamuro protested, struggling against him, but Kamiki completely tuned out her objections.
With a firm, unbreakable grip, he dragged her along behind him, moving rapidly down the corridor and up the dormitory stairs, leading her straight toward his room.