Chapter 4: The Truth in the Trash
"Um, excuse me."
Before the fourth round began, I raised my hand, doing my best to put on an expression of suppressed pain.
"That... I'd like to use the restroom... I was too nervous just now, my stomach is a bit..."
Looking at my pathetic state, Mary Saotome let out a sneer. She was in a state of high excitement from her winning streak and didn't suspect my motives in the slightest.
"Ha? How useless. Go on, go on. Don't think about taking the chance to run away, okay? Your bag is still here with me."
"Of course."
Clutching my stomach, I walked out of the classroom with a staggering gait.
The moment the classroom door closed, the air in the hallway felt slightly fresher.
I straightened my back. That expression from moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by my usual indifference.
I didn't go to the restroom because of nerves; I went to confirm the final "insurance."
Even though I had already seen through the fact that the box was mostly filled with "Rock," it didn't mean I had a guaranteed victory.
If Mary changed her strategy on a whim, or if those followers suddenly decided to betray her, my calculations would deviate.
To eliminate deviation, one needs concrete physical evidence.
In truth, back during lunch—the moment I returned to the classroom after buying my bread—I had already completed my intelligence gathering.
At that time, the classroom was empty. I had walked straight to the trash can at the back of the room.
To an ordinary student, a trash can is a dirty place to be avoided. But for someone wanting to understand the ecology of a class, it is a treasure trove.
At the bottom, beneath a pile of waste paper and snack wrappers, I found several crumpled pages torn from a notebook.
Flattening them out revealed scrawled handwriting:
『First Game: Everyone plays Rock.』
『I'll kill anyone who dares to play anything else.』
『Reward: One-week debt extension.』
This was Mary's method of controlling the class. Simple, crude, but effective. She utilized debt and intimidation to turn these students into machines that only produced "Rock."
With this concrete evidence, I could precisely filter out the people I was looking for.
I didn't go to the restroom; instead, I turned into a blind spot in the hallway—the only path leading to the vending machines.
If my calculations were correct, those two individuals should have been sent out by Mary to buy drinks.
Sure enough.
Two girls were walking toward me with their heads down. Their uniforms were a bit disheveled, and their expressions were somber.
Earlier in the classroom, when I lost to Mary, the whole class cheered. Although these two had followed along with the clapping, a nearly imperceptible flash of resentment had crossed their eyes.
It was the gaze unique to those who have been bullied long-term—fearing the abuser, yet longing for the abuser's destruction.
I blocked their path.
"Ah!" One of the girls jumped, instinctively wanting to apologize. "S-sorry..."
"I'm Ayanokoji," I interrupted. "Time is limited, so I'll be brief."
The two girls exchanged looks, watching me warily.
"You hate Mary Saotome, don't you?"
Without any preamble, I cut straight to the core.
The girls' faces turned pale instantly. "W-what are you talking about... we're friends with Saotome-san..."
"Spare me the pleasantries."
I pulled out my phone, lit up the screen, and displayed my account balance.
Though I had bought bread and milk, a significant amount of the points initially deposited by the school (or the transfer funds provided by my family) remained.
To a child of a wealthy family, this might just be pocket change, but to these two "livestock" burdened with debt at the bottom of the food chain, it was a fortune.
"In the next round, you must only play Rock."
I looked into their eyes, my tone as steady as if I were discussing tomorrow's weather.
"Draw 'Rock' on your cards. If you do that, I will transfer 50,000 yen to each of you."
The two froze.
I didn't use any soul-stirring, passionate speeches, nor did I promise empty slogans like "let's defeat evil together."
In this school, money is the only universal language.
"F-fifty thousand..." One of the girls swallowed, her gaze beginning to waver. "But, if Saotome-san finds out..."
"She won't." I put my phone away. "There are thirty cards in the box; she can't possibly know who played 'Paper.' Besides, if she loses badly this round, her dominance will decline. The debt pressure on you will also lighten."
I paused, throwing out the final chip.
"If you help me win this round, in addition to the current fifty thousand, I promise to help you clear a portion of your debt with Mary. I'm a transfer student; I have the financial capability."
This was a lie.
Although I have money, I have no intention of playing the philanthropist. However, at the negotiating table, it is enough to make the other party believe you have the capability.
The two girls exchanged a glance.
Fear still existed, but in the face of the lure of money and the pleasure of revenge, fear was receding.
"...Will you really give the money?"
"I can pay half the deposit right now."
I operated my phone and quickly completed the transfer.
Seeing the notification pop up on their phones, the hesitation in their eyes vanished completely.
"Deal."
Watching their backs as they hurried back to the classroom, I put my phone back in my pocket.
In a specific environment, the so-called human heart has a price tag. Mary rules them with terror; I buy them with interest.
It's only fair.
Straightening my collar, I prepared to return to the classroom to claim my victory.
The moment I turned around, I sensed a gaze.
Standing quietly in the shadows at the end of the hallway was a person.
She wore the same uniform as me, but her face was covered by a white mask painted with an eerie smiling face.
She was like a ghost, standing there soundlessly. She must have seen the entire transaction between me and those two girls.
She didn't speak, nor did she stop me; she just watched me quietly.
I merely gave her a faint glance before withdrawing my gaze.
Whether she was an onlooker or a monitor, as long as she didn't interfere with my actions, she was merely part of the background.
Now, it's time for the show to end.