Class 1-A had just concluded their homeroom meeting.
Mashima Takuya stood at the lectern, his calm gaze sweeping across the room as he spoke:
"To summarize... your class evaluation points this month are 950."
"As for academic performance, I won't belabor the point. You've done well overall—keep it up."
The classroom exuded an air of effortless superiority—this was, after all, Class A, the apex of the grade.
Yet Mashima's next words made several students lift their heads.
"Additionally, there's an undisclosed rule you should know: accumulating 20 million personal points allows a class transfer request."
A brief silence, then hushed murmurs rippled through the room.
"20 million to transfer?"
"But we're already Class A. This rule is meaningless to us, no?"
For most Class A students, the rule was irrelevant—they had no reason to leave the top class.
"Mashima-sensei, does this mean Class A can also use this rule to recruit talent from other classes and strengthen our position?"
All eyes turned toward the speaker—Katsuragi Kōhei, one of Class A's core figures, now regarding Mashima with sharp focus.
"Correct. Your insight is commendable."
Mashima's eyes gleamed with approval.
Not only had Katsuragi aced the entrance exams, but his strategic foresight was equally impressive.
What truly pleased Mashima, however, was Katsuragi's perspective—his first thought wasn't "What use is leaving our class?" but "How can we make Class A stronger?"
This collective-first mindset was Class A's essential ethos.
Mashima's gaze inadvertently drifted to the classroom's other side.
There, the silver-haired girl—Sakayanagi Arisu—rested her chin lazily on one hand, her fingertip tapping her cheek as if mildly intrigued by the discussion.
(Sakayanagi Arisu... demonstrated astonishing insight on opening day, immediately deciphering hidden rules.)
(And she's the chairman's daughter.)
Mashima had to admit—in pure intellect, Sakayanagi might surpass Katsuragi.
Yet the concept of "class" seemed absent from her worldview.
Sakayanagi was more like a lone chess player, treating her class as merely another piece on the board.
Her brilliance was undeniable, but like a double-edged sword—capable of securing victories for Class A just as easily as capriciously plunging them into peril.
By contrast, Katsuragi's steadfast reliability was invaluable.
He might lack Sakayanagi's dazzling genius, but his unwavering prioritization of class unity made him Class A's true pillar.
Thus, Mashima reached a straightforward conclusion:
Class A's true backbone wasn't Sakayanagi Arisu—it was Katsuragi Kōhei.
If the day came when Katsuragi wasn't in Class A, leaving Sakayanagi as sole leader... that would ironically be Class A's most precarious moment.
At lunch, Kamuro Masumi idly glanced at the class-points board at the back of the room.
"Class D: 530?" Her brow arched as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "So those idiots got 53,000 this month..."
She'd planned to seek out Shimizu Akira during lunch—to mock him a bit and "check in" on his progress.
Yet Class D's performance was unexpectedly... decent.
"Tch. Not complete trash, I guess."
Though still far behind Class A's 950, it at least proved they weren't utter failures.
Pulling out her phone, she quickly typed a message to Shimizu:
[Didn't expect you to scrape by. Thought you'd be at zero.]
The moment she hit send, her spine stiffened, her right leg jittering unconsciously.
(Wait... he won't think I'm collecting debts, will he?)
That 10,000-point loan from last month was still outstanding, but this message was purely... well, maybe slightly congratulatory.
(Ugh, why am I overthinking this...?)
Her fingers brushed her student ID—currently holding a 95,000-point balance.
Combined with last month's leftovers, she was practically a "little tycoon" with over 100,000 points.
(That's twice his amount! I'm way richer!)
Just as she gnawed her lip in irritation, a soft voice drifted from beside her:
"Kamuro-san... might I borrow a moment?"
Kamuro whipped her head around—to find Sakayanagi Arisu's perpetually enigmatic smile inches away.
The silver-haired girl leaned lightly on her cane, her tilted head radiating harmless curiosity.
(Sakayanagi?!)
Every nerve in Kamuro's body went taut.
Shimizu's warning echoed in her mind:
["With your personality, you'll get played by Sakayanagi like a fiddle."]
Worse, that bastard had also spread rumors that she'd hold an umbrella for this "frail young miss" in the future!
As if! The girl wasn't disabled. Why should Kamuro wait on her like some maid?
"No." Kamuro spat the refusal, deliberately turning toward the window.
She couldn't be bothered—if Shimizu saw this, he'd never let her hear the end of it.
Yet Sakayanagi's gaze lingered just too long on her unlocked phone screen.
Kamuro's entire body locked up as she slammed the phone face-down.
Too late. That woman had definitely seen it.
"My... Kamuro-san is quite close with Class D's Shimizu-kun?" Sakayanagi's honeyed voice prodded.
"None of your business!"
"Fufu... Did you know what happened between Shimizu-kun and me on opening day?"
"Who cares about—"
"We made a bet." Sakayanagi continued blithely, wiggling her index finger. "The wager? You. Specifically, whether you'd steal or not. And as you can see... I lost utterly."
"WHAT?!" Kamuro's entire body tensed, her fury igniting like a lit fuse.
So that bastard gave me beer because of this?!
Someone's not surviving tonight.