"Ibuki-san?"
A soft voice pulled Ibuki Mio from her turbulent thoughts.
Unnoticed, a silver-haired girl had appeared beside her desk, concern lacing her tone: "Are you... feeling alright?"
Shiina Hiyori's gentle demeanor was as consistent as ever—yet it made Ibuki's spine stiffen instinctively.
"Hah! I'm fine!" She jerked upright, deliberately scraping her chair back with a loud squeak. "Don't forget, I've trained in martial arts."
She flexed her fist boastfully—only to tug at a half-healed wound, her lip twitching imperceptibly.
"You... still haven't handed over your points, have you?" Shiina's whisper was barely audible. "Even Ishizaki and Yamada, who resisted the most at first, now..."
Ibuki's head snapped up as she scanned the room.
Sure enough, the usual troublemakers were absent—following Ryūen Kakeru on another "errand."
Pathetic. Those two somehow became Ryūen's lackeys.
"What a joke..." Her fists clenched under the desk, knuckles whitening. "I'd never bow to that scum..."
Just three days into the semester, Ryūen had demanded 80,000 points from every classmate as "class funds."
Many resisted at first—until he beat them into submission, one by one.
Now, entering Week 2, even Yamada had caved. Only Ibuki held out.
"Absurd! The student council asked me for evidence? They won't even investigate!" She kicked her desk violently, the thud making nearby students flinch.
"You actually reported Ryūen to the student council..." Shiina's voice dipped lower. "If he finds out—"
BANG!
The rear door slammed open.
Ryūen Kakeru strode in like a predator marking territory, Ishizaki Daichi shadowing him like a guard dog.
"Tch... playing king now?" Ibuki deliberately raised her voice.
Ryūen halted at their desk. "King... not a bad title." His gaze sharpened, locking onto Ibuki. "And you? Quite the rebellious subject."
"You—!"
Ibuki's fists flew up, fury igniting in her eyes—but Shiina's hand gently caught her sleeve.
A subtle shake of the head. Stand down.
"...Hmph. Scram." Ryūen smirked, scanning them with disdain. "I'm feeling generous today. Don't waste it."
Lazily, he pulled out his phone and typed rapidly.
Ibuki's phone buzzed.
[Ryūen Kakeru]:"Everyone. Get your asses here in 10 minutes. Or I'll personally fetch you."
Her stomach dropped.
That man... must've uncovered something critical.
Gritting her teeth, she faced the bitter truth:
Ryūen's methods were despicable—coercion, lies, secret recordings—but undeniably effective.
(That's why... everyone but me coughed up those 80,000 points...)
In under two weeks, the class had learned to fear and resent Ryūen—yet respect his power.
Ibuki's eyes stayed fixed on the door.
Sure enough, within minutes, every seat was filled.
"From today onward—" Ryūen crossed his arms, his voice a hammer striking the room. "No tardies. No phones. No fights. No sleeping in class. Any rule-breaking? Cut it out."
Silence.
Every student gaped at the figure on the podium—this was the same delinquent who'd flouted every rule, now preaching like a model student.
"...I see." Shiina's eyes widened slightly.
"What?!" Ibuki blurted, disbelief plastered across her face.
(Has Ryūen lost his mind?! Since when does he care about rules?)
"Tch. Knew only Shiina would get it." Ryūen scoffed before snapping his fingers. "Ishizaki. Play it."
"On it!" Ishizaki whipped out a recorder.
Static crackled, then a crisp conversation unfolded:
"...At this rate, Class A will clinch first place next month."
"Right. Especially Classes C and D—their rule-breaking tanked their class points last week."
"How much do you think we'll get?"
"Sakayanagi estimates at least 950."
"That's over 90,000 personal points for us next month."
SLAM! Ryūen's fist smashed the podium, sending chalk dust flying.
He leaned forward, a dangerous grin spreading. "Now. Understood?"
One hand in his pocket, his very posture radiated impatience—as if mocking the class's slowness.
Murmurs erupted.
"What are class points?"
"They're tied to our personal points?!"
"Wait—so breaking rules docks them? Why didn't the school explain this?!"
Ryūen's fingers drummed the podium, his sneer deepening.
(Hopeless idiots...)
(They heard the proof and still don't get it?)
(Aside from me and Shiina, is everyone here brain-dead? Pathetic.)
(If we're this weak, Class D must be literal trash. Only A and B are worth my time.)
His mind flashed to the cafeteria days prior—that silver-haired cripple's condescending stare, like she was observing livestock.
That disgusting superiority had been the best clue.
A quick investigation revealed her identity: Sakayanagi Arisu, one of Class A's leaders.
So last night, he'd planted two bugs outside Class A's door.
And today? Goldmine.
His lips curled.
(Intel warfare isn't just about solving puzzles.)
(Even if I lack intel... stealing it from those who do is just as valid.)
(No spies? Bugs will do.)
Flipping his phone open, he pulled up a contact:
[Ryūen Kakeru]:"Save your breath, trash. You think your intel's worth 1 million points?"
[Ryūen Kakeru]:"I already knew those 'hidden rules.'"
The recipient? "Tsuki Ao."
When this "Tsuki Ao" had first friended him, he'd ignored them.
Yet shockingly, they'd countered with even juicier bait.
[Tsuki Ao]:"You already know? Good. Saves me the trouble."
[Tsuki Ao]:"Let's skip to the real deal."
Ryūen's brow furrowed.
[Ryūen Kakeru]:"Wait—you only sell intel, right?"
[Tsuki Ao]:"Who just sells intel these days?"
[Tsuki Ao]:"Ah, your whole class is here... perfect."
Ryūen's pulse spiked. His head jerked up—the door was still shut!
"You bugged me?" he muttered.
[Tsuki Ao]:"Not bugs. I'm watching you through your class's two cameras."
[Tsuki Ao]:"So, Ryūen-kun—how many millions will you pay to lease them?"