Faced with Kazuma's pressing question, Yamada Yōichi hesitated for several seconds before mumbling softly, "They think… you should apply to…"
"Louder! I can't hear you!" Kazuma cut him off sharply.
A girl from Yamada's little clique, Makino, shot back, "Why are you yelling like that?"
Kazuma glared at her. "You're asking me? You all grabbed a personal letter that was meant for me without my permission, read it aloud in front of the whole class, and now you've got the nerve to complain when I raise my voice?"
He let his anger flow freely—after all, he was clearly in the right this time.
As he advanced toward Yamada's group, Makino yelped and quickly ducked behind Yamada.
Ordinary students had never encountered the kind of sharp, intimidating aura Kazuma now exuded.
This was the Lone Dragon who'd taken down an entire yakuza group single-handedly!
Yamada's whole clique backed away instinctively—everyone except Yamada himself, who was stuck in place with Makino clinging to his shoulders, unable to retreat.
Kazuma stood right in front of Yamada and, without thinking, adopted a yakuza-style stance.
He had to admit—those ferocious expressions yakuza cultivated really were effective. Even though Kazuma had only mastered about half of it, Yamada looked ready to wet himself.
"Yamada-kun," Kazuma said coldly. "Do you know that tampering with someone else's private mail is a violation of the Constitution?"
"C-Constitution?" Yamada was completely thrown off by Kazuma suddenly tossing out that word. He had no idea how to respond.
"And according to the law," Kazuma continued smoothly, "when someone's personal rights or property are being infringed upon, I have the right to take action to stop the infringement from continuing."
This was actually something Kazuma had picked up in his past life from a certain Professor Luo.
Fortunately, both China and Japan followed the civil law tradition (or Roman law system), so much of the legal logic was similar.
Yamada clearly had zero understanding of this kind of legalese and looked completely lost.
Kazuma pressed on. "Which means that what I'm doing right now is perfectly justified self-defense!"
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Kazuma slapped Yamada hard across the face.
Finally! I've got a legitimate excuse to hit you!
The slap landed with a resounding smack, and Yamada's right cheek immediately started to swell—no need to wait, it puffed up on the spot.
Reflexively, Yamada turned toward the lectern. "Sensei!"
Tachibana-sensei shrugged. "You were the one who took his letter first. Kiryu-kun is correct—he was taking action to stop an ongoing violation. It's justified self-defense."
Clearly, the teacher wasn't about to wade into this mess.
Kazuma grabbed Yamada by the chin and forced his head back around to face him.
"Keep reading, you little punk," Kazuma said coldly. "Read it loud enough for me to hear you. If I can't hear it, you keep reading until I can!"
Looking utterly miserable, Yamada stared down at the letter and raised his voice.
"They think… you should apply to the National University of Tsukuba. If you change your application, they believe you could easily achieve an A rating for all departments at Tsukuba with focused effort, and your chances of admission would be very high."
The classroom immediately erupted in shock.
The University of Tokyo was the pinnacle of Japanese higher education—and it was a well-rounded university, strong in both the humanities and the sciences.
But when it came to Japan's top science and engineering school, that title unquestionably belonged to the National University of Tsukuba.
Though a relatively young university—this was 1980, and Tsukuba had only been founded in 1972—it had been established by merging 42 elite institutions, specifically to spearhead Japan's cutting-edge scientific development.
The Tsukuba Science City campus had been purpose-built by the government in Ibaraki Prefecture.
To make this university a reality, the government had even revised the National School Establishment Act to clear the way for its creation.
In his past life, Kazuma had read that the Academy City in the famous light novel A Certain Magical Index was modeled after Tsukuba Science City.
At this point in time, though the university was only eight years old, it had already gained a legendary reputation thanks to its brutally difficult entrance exams and world-class faculty.
And in both China and Japan, it was commonly accepted that science tracks were harder than humanities.
By that logic, getting into Tsukuba—focused on the sciences—was considered even tougher than Todai.
The only catch was that Tsukuba primarily produced scientists and engineers, which didn't necessarily lead to top social status.
And as a newer school, its alumni network wasn't as developed—unlike Todai, whose graduates enjoyed significant networking benefits in society.
That's why ambitious students still tended to target Todai and similar established universities.
Now, for the mock exam graders to collectively recommend Kazuma switch to Tsukuba—and saying he'd easily earn an A rating—was like dropping a bomb in the classroom.
After a brief stunned silence, the room burst into chatter.
"No way! The Tsukuba University?"
"Isn't the average deviation score for Tsukuba's affiliated high school over 77? And they're recommending someone with a 66 to apply and saying he'd get an A rating? Are they serious?"
"I've been to Tsukuba Science City. It looks super futuristic! I heard they're even scouting it as a filming location for Japan Sinks by Sakyo Komatsu."
At the lectern, Tachibana-sensei cleared his throat to quiet the room. Then he stepped down and walked over to Yamada, whose face was still swollen on one side, and took the letter from him.
"Hm? There's one more paragraph here," Tachibana-sensei remarked. He read aloud:
"'If you are willing to change your application, Asahi Education is prepared to provide you with a full set of supplementary courses free of charge, along with the necessary reference materials.'"
"Not a bad offer," Tachibana-sensei chuckled. "Looks like they'd love to have a student go to Tsukuba and boost their reputation."
Still smiling, he handed the letter back to Kazuma.
"There are many paths in life," he said. "Todai might be the most glamorous, but other paths have their own unique beauty too."
Kazuma thought to himself, You're right, Sensei. But I can't change paths.
If I do, I'll have to go take on the Kanto Union single-handedly.
But then again… a scientist swordsman does sound kind of cool…
Kazuma quickly reined in his galloping imagination and smiled at Tachibana-sensei.
"That may well be a good option," he said. "But once a man sets a goal, he sees it through. No turning back until the wall is broken."
And even if I hit that wall, I'll smash right through it.
Tachibana-sensei nodded. "Very well. That's your decision. You're weak in Japanese and history, right? I'll talk with Nakajō-sensei and arrange some extra lessons. You're okay with coming to school on Sundays?"
In Japan, schools typically stayed open on weekends—club activities were held on Saturdays and Sundays, and teachers used the time for research and skill development.
As for extra lessons—Kazuma was all for it. Free tutoring meant he could save a ton on cram school fees!
"Thank you, Sensei," Kazuma said earnestly.
Just then, Yamada muttered, "Sensei… I just get hit like this and that's it?"
Tachibana-sensei smacked him on the head with a hand chop. "What else? You reflect on your actions!"
In this era, corporal punishment from teachers was routine. Parents actually expected teachers to be strict with their kids.
Not like the later relaxed-education era, where even mild scolding could get teachers in trouble with parent committees.
Tachibana-sensei turned back to Kazuma.
"Kiryu-kun, the mock exam is over. You did well—especially considering you were at the bottom of the class not long ago. Your hard work hasn't gone unnoticed by me or the other teachers. We'll do everything we can to help you achieve your dream."
"Keep it up, Kiryu-kun!"
"Thank you, Sensei."
(End of Chapter)