The sudden food-poisoning incident cast a dark cloud over the entire training-camp Special Exam; many students became anxious and fearful, choosing to stay hungry rather than eat.
Those who truly could not endure the hunger simply went back to the dorm, grabbed the little crackers they had brought, and washed them down with extra water.
At such a time, members of Yukio's class—still calmly eating and drinking—naturally drew every gaze.
"Those guys aren't afraid of dying?"
"Hold on, something feels off. They're eating so happily—as if they aren't worried about poisoning at all."
"Could it be… related to their class?"
Everyone set down their utensils; only Class Yukio kept going, hard not to raise suspicion.
…
Third-year side.
Tachibana had already asked Horikita Manabu.
"President, Yukio's class must be behind this. Doesn't it look like them?"
Even though the student-council posts had rotated, Tachibana still reflexively called him President.
Horikita Manabu actually picked his chopsticks up again.
"And if they are? The school has rules. Without proof, mere conjecture is useless."
Having served two years as president, he knew better than anyone: when students brawled, the council relied on evidence, not subjective doubt.
If there was no proof, accusing Yukio's class achieved nothing; for all you knew, Yukio would counter-report that third-years were harassing first-years.
"By the way—text Fujimaki. Tell him to watch himself and not get caught."
Fujimaki was the third-year A-Class pick for the personal-ability project—their best athlete and a top student; otherwise he'd never have been placed in A Class.
…
Second-year side.
Kiriyama's face was dark; the 2-B student had been eliminated, and the homeroom call had not only told them to stop eating breakfast but delivered that blow. He was furious: two consecutive exams lost now, when he'd been ready to drive the class back to A.
Kiryuin, by contrast, was positively interested. After Kiriyama hung up she even phoned their homeroom, chatting leisurely and eating at the same time, asking for details—she thought: My junior is getting more and more lawless… and I like him all the more.
…
First-years.
Sakayanagi's class reacted fastest; seeing Yukio's class continue to eat, Sakayanagi herself resumed chewing at a slow, refined pace.
The frailest body in the grade, yet she seemed utterly unworried about poisoning.
Kamuro beside her was nervous. "Your appetite's always tiny—should I fetch crackers from the dorm?"
"Thank you, Masumi-san, no need." Sakayanagi politely declined and urged her classmates to eat; no nutrients, no brains for class.
Hashimoto reclined with both hands behind his head, drawling. "Even though Katsuragi-kun's in the infirmary, Her Highness is this relaxed—impressive mindset."
Sakayanagi smiled faintly, as if to say it's Katsuragi's own problem.
A handful of students who cared about Katsuragi felt sour at her coldness, yet because she really did bring the class benefits, they held their tongues—deciding instead to visit him later alone.
Ichinose's class, on the other hand, was tense. After confirming by phone that Kanzaki was unharmed, she told her class: "If you're in the same club as those upperclassmen and know them, please go visit."
…
Class D.
Matsushita was secretly relieved; Horikita left her solitary seat and walked over:
"Matsushita, you did very well. If you hadn't persuaded Koenji to go, someone else might've been hit."
Matsushita, used to Horikita's blunt tone, had no complaint.
"Thankfully Koenji-kun agreed. Otherwise we might truly have been on the back foot."
But some classmates were displeased:
"Tch, that selfish Koenji—what's there to praise?"
"Exactly! Athletic monster, yet in the sports festival he refused to help. Only Horikita treats him like treasure."
"And Matsushita too—can't figure her out."
"Matsushita? Seems fine to me?"
"Eh, you don't know—let me tell you…"
Horikita and Matsushita could hear the undercurrent of discontent toward Koenji—and toward themselves. They sighed; the road to Class A was long indeed.
Still, seeing so many tables resume breakfast let everyone breathe easier. Hunger pains gone, people digged in again.
Yet the old carefree atmosphere—first-year boys joking about size battles a few days ago—vanished.
Every class watched the others warily. In the first five days, members of the same club but different classes still ate together; now that sight was completely gone. Classes huddled, unwilling to let food leave their sight even for a second.
Under such mutual vigilance, the camp exam soon reached the final day—the eighth-day assessment.
But another message arrived: late last night, two students in the personal-ability project were assaulted and rushed to the infirmary. The news only became known to every class this morning.
Along with it came the victims' testimony: the culprit was Ryuen of Yukio's class. Ryuen had been vicious—no fair fight, only ambushes!
One student, half-asleep going to the toilet at night, had a bucket slammed over his head by Ryuen and was beaten blind.
The other was worse: squatting over the pit when Ryuen straddled the partition above, wielding a giant outdoor leaf-broom, raining blows till the boy was dazed— stand and fight? stay squatting? impossible either way.
Because of that, infirmary nurse Hoshinomiya had grumbled all night.
"Damn Yukio! Making my workload explode, forcing me into overtime!"
The two injured heard her curse him multiple times.
Anger simmered in many hearts. Several classes swore to crush Yukio's scores in this exam—to avenge their poisoned or battered comrades.
Still, Ryuen's deeds made him famous in one stroke: across all three years he became the last person anyone wanted to provoke.
Students even dubbed him The Toilet God of War, scarier than Yukio himself…
...
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