Nagumo Miyabi awkwardly averted his gaze, feeling his recent luck had hit rock bottom.
First, he'd been shut down by Horikita Suzune in the student council room. Because she was the president's sister, he'd had to swallow his anger.
But now, who was this silver-haired girl to dismiss him so completely?
(Just some girl with a cane... looks frail. I wouldn't touch a girl like that anyway.)
It was true Nagumo had a preference for beautiful girls, but he had his limits—he definitely wouldn't make a move on someone who seemed unwell.
Mostly, he was afraid of trouble—if the school caught him and issued a demerit, the loss would outweigh the gain.
He was, after all, the student council vice president. Once Horikita Manabu graduated, the presidency would be his. No need to risk a stain on his record over some girl with a cane.
His phone kept vibrating in his pocket, aggravating his already foul mood.
Nagumo impatiently pulled out his phone. The screen showed a message from the Class 2-C leader:
Class 2-C Leader:Vice President, how's it going with the exam papers?
Class 2-C Leader:Not trying to rush you, but getting them sooner would be better.
It wasn't just Class C. Other classes—including Class A—had sent similarly roundabout messages, all essentially reminding him to hurry up and secure the papers.
Nagumo's temper flared.
Nagumo Miyabi:What's the rush? Are the papers going to grow legs and run away?
Nagumo Miyabi:Do you people still want to get into Class A or not?
He was already in a bad mood, humiliated by his recent failed attempt at flirting. All this pent-up anger now found an outlet, squarely directed at these messengers.
As expected, the message senders instantly fell silent.
After all, Nagumo had long promised these classes that if they obeyed him, they'd all get a chance to rise to Class A—even if they didn't save up enough points to "buy" their way in, there was an extremely low probability they could get promoted via "lottery."
As for how random that lottery really was, or what the criteria were? Was it truly random, or was he rigging it?
The answer would only be revealed when all second-years became third-years.
But for Nagumo, all that mattered was keeping them compliant.
At the very least, this way, he could ensure a steady stream of "tributes" throughout the school year—that was the most important thing.
His reason for coming to the café was, in fact, to find some random third-year student and buy the papers from them.
But that was his plan. Someone else催促 him to do it was a different matter entirely.
(These people are so impatient. Fine, I'll just get the papers and hand them over.)
Thinking this, Nagumo glanced at his phone—7:00 PM sharp.
His eyes lazily scanned the other café seats, suddenly stopping on one: a third-year senpai sitting alone, her figure seeming somewhat lonely.
(Hm? Not bad looking.)
(Perfect. I'll buy the papers from her. Maybe ask for her contact info too—could get a date out of it later.)
Nagumo adjusted his uniform collar, putting on his usual cocky smile as he approached the third-year's table. He deliberately softened his footsteps, pausing by her table before speaking: "Senpai, are you alone? Mind if I join you? I'm Nagumo Miyabi, Student Council Vice President."
The senpai looked up, revealing a face that wasn't stunning but was pleasant and clean, her eyes holding a hint of wariness. "Can I help you?"
"Nothing major." Nagumo pulled out the chair and sat, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. "Senpai, do you have the second-year midterm exam papers? I'll buy them for 20,000 points. How's that?"
Twenty thousand was the standard price for the papers. He figured a senpai who looked this plain would be easily swayed by the offer.
"Sorry, Vice President." Her tone was flat. "I can't sell them to you."
"What?! Is my offer too low?" Nagumo was taken aback.
"It's not the price." The senpai looked directly at him, her voice devoid of inflection. "I'm from Class 3-A."
"...I see." Nagumo pondered for a moment, the confusion on his face clearing.
If she was from Class A, of course she wouldn't need the points.
Probably the pride of an honors student, looking down on such underhanded deals.
Seemed he'd have to target those actually short on points.
He changed tactics, smiling again. "...Senpai, how about exchanging contact info? If you're free on your day off, maybe we could hang out?"
"Are you paying the points?" The senpai suddenly looked up and asked, her tone unreadable.
"Of course!" Nagumo immediately agreed, inwardly pleased—points always worked.
"Points, huh..." The senpai drew out the words, then shook her head. "Actually, I'm not really short. Sorry."
"Also, could you leave this table?" The senpai spoke again, her tone carrying a note of undeniable distance. "I'm meeting a male classmate."
Before Nagumo could process this, a figure had already approached.
The newcomer had striking blond hair like him, but his languid, aristocratic air was completely different.
"Kōenji-kun, you're finally here." The previously indifferent senpai instantly brightened, standing up eagerly to greet him.
"I encountered several most enthusiastic senpais on the way here! They demanded my contact information! Being popular is truly a bother!" Kōenji's voice was much clearer and more refined than Nagumo had expected.
"So, who might you be? Why are you sitting in my seat? You don't seem to be lost." Kōenji's gaze fell on the other blond man, a teasing curl at his lips. "How amusing. So, you were attempting to woo my date?"
"Don't mind him," the senpai said, lightly touching Kōenji's arm and deftly changing the subject. "He's just the student council vice president. What use are points and power? Speaking of, after I graduate from university, can I get into your family's company, Kōenji-kun?"
"How delightfully straightforward, Senpai!" Kōenji laughed heartily. "But have you forgotten? This school seems to prohibit contact with the outside world."
"When I leave, I'll just take your personal recommendation letter! Your family will surely find me a position. I'm counting on you! I'll do anything, Kōenji-kun." The senpai looked up at him, her tone deliberately ingratiating.
Nagumo silently stood up and left the table, his expression stiff with embarrassment.
So, a rich young master? No wonder the third-year senpai was so eager.
His points and status were utterly useless to a third-year senpai about to graduate.
(What's with these people?! Why does nobody seem intimidated by me?!)
Nagumo later approached several other third-year students, only to be rejected repeatedly for the same reason as the first senpai—they all claimed not to need points. No matter how high he raised the price, they refused.
Even Nagumo himself began to sense something was wrong.
Just then, he received a long-awaited phone call.
It was President Horikita himself.
He answered without hesitation.
But the content of the call left him utterly stunned.
"Nagumo. I have informed all third-year students that they are forbidden from selling exam papers to you." Horikita Manabu's voice was flat, delivering a simple notification. "If you want the midterm exam papers, bring ten million points and buy them from me directly."