---Notice---
Here's another chapter, as requested. (plotting my basement escape)
Powerstones?
My discord (Best server in the world): discord.gg/xFk7znZW
--------------------------------
"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." ~John Milton, Paradise Lost
After Ryuen's cavalry match, I participated in the 200-meter sprint.
Lining up for the next race, the setup remained the same as all previous events. The only real difference was the distance.
Lucky for me, the competition didn't look threatening. Well—aside from one exception. On my right stood the only person here capable of keeping up if he actually decided to try: Ayanokoji.
"So Ryuen has targeted Horikita?" Ayanokoji whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. His voice was low—perfectly masked under the conversations of the other students.
"It seems that way," I replied calmly, keeping my eyes ahead. "He's ambitious. And he seems intent on crushing Class D. Will you do something about it?"
"I told you," Ayanokoji said without pause, "I no longer have any interest in Class D."
"But that doesn't answer the question," I countered smoothly. "You might still have an interest in Horikita. Or maybe... this is an opportunity. A convenient way to start your offensive against Ryuen."
A moment passed. A flicker of thought crossed his face.
"I suppose I did say I'd deal with Ryuen," he murmured. "In exchange for your silence. Maybe it's time I start fulfilling my part of the deal."
There it was—a shift.
"Can you really stop him?" I asked, tone relaxed but analytical. "Prevent Horikita's expulsion, just like that?"
Ayanokoji's eyes drifted toward me, then back to the track. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer. But he did.
"Of course I can," he said, voice almost bored. "It wouldn't take more than a few minutes to bring down his plan."
That confidence... it wasn't arrogance. It was certainty.
"I see," I said. "Then I look forward to seeing what you have planned."
The starting whistle blew soon after. Whatever pressure lingered between us vanished in the rush of movement. I surged ahead, my body responding on instinct. Just like the previous race, I secured another first-place finish with ease.
The moment it ended, we were given another break.
"Are you coming with me to visit our poor classmate in the infirmary? You know, the one with the broken leg?" Ryuen asked, smirking as he referred to Kinoshita.
"Sure," I said, walking beside him. "I didn't know you were such a diagnostic genius. You can spot a fractured bone from across the field now, Ryuen?"
"I must've picked it up from all my years on the streets," he replied with a grin. "Broken legs, arms, ribs—I've seen it all. Honestly, I'm probably more qualified than your average doctor when it comes to these delicate matters."
"If I walked into a clinic with a broken arm and saw you standing there in a white coat," I replied dryly, "I'd jump out the nearest window and pray the fall realigns my bones before I let you touch me."
"No need to be so harsh," Ryuen chuckled. "Who knows—once we graduate from Class A, maybe I'll consider a career in medicine just to see if you follow through on that threat."
"I'd have no choice," I said with a faint smirk, before lowering my voice. "Anyway… who delivered the final blow to Kinoshita? I assume you made sure the injury wasn't just for show."
"Of course I did. Ibuki was the one who carried her to the infirmary. On the way there, she was supposed to finish the job," Ryuen said confidently.
"Unless Kinoshita backed out at the last second," I countered, watching his face for any doubt.
"I doubt it," Ryuen said, shaking his head. "She really wanted the points I was offering. She was in too deep to pull out."
I gave a small nod of understanding. Then, Ryuen shifted the conversation.
"Speaking of points—you told me you were working on a plan to accumulate more, didn't you? Any success?"
"Yeah, I've been successful," I said, voice calm. "Although success isn't about the plan itself. It's about timing. Opportunity."
"Opportunity, huh…" Ryuen echoed, thoughtful for once.
"I'll give you a hint," I offered, watching his expression. "The S/Point system. It's full of untapped potential, but no one's maximizing it. Why is that? Sure, some lower-ranked students might not understand the mechanics like you or I do—but even among the second-years, those with more experience, the system's still underused. Why?"
Ryuen thought for a second, then answered firmly. "It's inaccessible. The S-System offers amazing benefits, but everything costs an absurd amount. Just one point on a test is 100,000 private points—it's insane."
"Exactly," I replied. "It's inaccessible. A luxury. A commodity. But that's what makes it powerful. It's convenient, desirable… yet just out of reach. That's why I'll monopolize it. I'll make it available—conditionally of course, but I'll sell the illusion of affordability. That unreachable object of desire? I'll bring it within reach. I'll make everyone feel like they need it. And when I do… I'll be the one they go through. I'll become the gatekeeper of the S-System."
I expected Ryuen to dismiss my words with a snide comment or laugh. But instead, he paused. He actually looked like he was thinking about what I said.
"…How?" he finally asked.
The answer was simple.
The same way Jesus showed the world he was a god.
I'll make the impossible seem possible.
I'll perform miracles. I'll defeat the enemies of this school. I'll become a savior. I'll make everyone need me. I'll even raise the dead if I have to. And when the dust settles, they'll see the system I created—when they realize they need it, that they need me—that's when I win.
"Don't worry about the how. Just trust I know what I'm doing; all this is why I aimed to become the head of finance when I joined the student council after all," I said, matter-of-fact. "You really think that was a coincidence? Just watch. You'll see how I make everything fall into place."
Ryuen gave a short laugh, shaking his head slightly. "You're the most confusing person to talk to. I honestly can't tell if you're an angel or a demon."
With that, we stepped into the nurse's office, the smell of medicine and silence greeting us.
Ryuen and I entered the infirmary, our eyes scanning the room. Three beds, two empty, one surrounded by curtains.
It was obvious where Kinoshita was.
"Can we come in?" I called out. "It's me and Ryuen."
"Ah—yes, please do," Kinoshita replied, her voice strained.
I slowly drew back the curtain.
There she lay—Kinoshita. Her face twisted with pain, and this time, it wasn't an act. The injury was real.
My eyes dropped to her leg. Specifically, her foot—propped slightly outside the blanket, wrapped tightly in a plastic brace the nurse had applied. The skin around it was swollen and discolored.
"Did the nurse give you anything for the pain?" I asked, watching her reaction.
"Yeah," she answered, wincing. "It's not as bad as when I first got here... but it still hurts like hell."
"Look on the bright side," I said casually. "You won't have to suffer through PE classes for a while."
Kinoshita let out a weak smile. "I guess you're right."
Ryuen cut straight to business. "Have the teachers come to question you yet?"
Kinoshita nodded. "Yeah. I gave them my statement—told them how Horikita intentionally injured me during the race."
"Good," Ryuen said, eyes narrowing. "Then the timing should work out. Now that we're on break, they'll all be showing up soon."
Almost on cue, the door opened. Horikita entered the infirmary, accompanied by Chabashira-sensei. The air in the room shifted immediately.
Kinoshita's eyes locked onto Horikita, her expression hardening into a glare. She was selling the role well.
"What's the meaning of this?" Horikita asked coldly, glancing over at Chabashira.
"It seems Kinoshita—and by extension, Class B—is claiming that you intentionally caused her injury," Chabashira said flatly. "As you can see, the damage is serious."
"That's a baseless accusation," Horikita replied calmly. "The collision during the obstacle race was exactly that—a collision. If anything, I'd argue it was a setup orchestrated by Class B."
"Oh?" Ryuen snapped, his voice sharp. "Funny, that sounds like a baseless accusation, Horikita. Got any proof?"
Horikita fell silent. Just for a moment. But long enough.
"Kinoshita claims that during the race, you repeatedly looked back at her," Chabashira continued. "Our review of the footage supports her version. During the log walk, you appeared unusually focused on her position. In fact, you turned around just seconds before the collision occurred."
"That's because she kept calling out to me," Horikita said quickly. "Of course I looked. It was a natural reaction."
"I see," Chabashira nodded. "That would be a logical response. So—what does Class B have to say?"
Kinoshita didn't miss a beat. "Let's say I did call out to her—so what? Doesn't that make it even worse? She turned around and slowed down intentionally. That's what caused the contact. And after that, she hit me. She finished the job."
"That's baseless," Horikita shot back. "I could argue your injury came from the fall itself, after the collision."
"Maybe so," Kinoshita replied coolly. "But I've got more evidence supporting my story than you do supporting yours."
Chabashira gave a small nod. "That's true. And this school, like society, leans toward protecting the weaker party. If the evidence continues to suggest this was intentional... we may be forced to treat it as such."
Ryuen's voice dropped to a low, deliberate tone. "In that case, Class B might have no choice but to escalate this issue... to the student council."
"The student council?" Horikita whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her body stiffened. A slight twitch of her fingers. Just enough to betray the rising anxiety she was trying to suppress.
Ryuen had struck a nerve.
Dragging this incident into the student council would be more than just a problem—it would be personal. Horikita's connection to her brother meant every move she made under scrutiny could reflect on him. And with all the circumstantial evidence stacked in Class B's favor—and me on the council—the odds were suffocating her.
Ryuen's tone turned light, casual—mocking. "Well, of course. I'm a businessman. I'm sure I can convince Kinoshita to be more reasonable... if you're willing to negotiate."
Kinoshita nodded silently. She didn't even get to speak—this was the role she'd signed up for.
Horikita exhaled slowly. Her pride visibly wavered. "Just tell me… what is it that you want?"
She already knew this wasn't going to be small. But she asked anyway because there was no other path forward.
Ryuen gave a shark-like smile. "I'm quite reasonable. There are only three little things I want. First—grovel. Second—one million private points. And third…" he leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing, "I want the name of the one pulling your strings. Class D's mastermind."
"What?" Horikita asked. But the way her voice cracked—barely masking the disbelief—told us she'd heard every word.
"You heard me," Ryuen said, clearly enjoying himself now. "Shouldn't be that hard. Groveling should come easy. Maybe even easier than standing, considering that busted foot of yours."
His words were slow and calculated like he was savoring every second of control.
"And the one million points?" he continued. "That's nothing for someone like you. You won two games in the gambling exam, didn't you? Even if it takes time to gather the rest, I can wait. I'm patient."
Then his tone dropped.
"And finally... Class D's mastermind. You know who it is. But lately, they've gone quiet. Like you've lost their support. So come on... just spit out the name."
Silence followed.
I watched Horikita's expression tighten. She was thinking, calculating each possible response in her head. Her pride, her loyalty, her future—they were all clashing.
Finally, she responded. "What if I just give you a random name? You couldn't prove if it was the truth. Or even if I know the truth."
Ryuen's smile didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened.
"Ah? You're getting smart with me now, aren't you?" he said. "Fine. I'll entertain you. You're right—I can't prove anything."
He motioned subtly toward Chabashira.
"But we've got a teacher right here. I am sure she knows the true identity of Class D's mastermind. And as a witness to this little agreement, she'd have no choice but to make sure you stick to our contract."
His eyes locked onto Horikita's like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Plus," he added, his voice tightening just slightly, "I don't think you're the kind of person who'd lie to my face. And if someone is pulling your strings... I'm sure it's the real mastermind."
It was a direct shot.
Every word Ryuen spoke dragged the noose tighter around her.
If Chabashira were someone like Sakagami—a teacher willing to bend the rules for the sake of protecting their class—maybe Horikita could risk lying. But Chabashira didn't seem to be that kind of teacher. She played by the school's rules. It was unlikely she would stick her neck out for something like this, especially given Class D's streak of poor performances.
Horikita turned to me, desperation now breaking through the last of her composure.
"Are you really promoting this?"
I kept my voice even. "Believe it or not, I wasn't informed about any of this. If it really was Ryuen's plot, it's too late for me to stop it now. Obviously, I can't prevent what's already happened... so I have no choice but to support my class. I'm sorry."
Her shoulders sank just slightly. That was it. The last flicker of resistance... gone.
"Okay…" Horikita whispered, her voice quiet, broken. "I'll acc—"
"I was looking for you, Chabashira-sensei," a new voice cut in.
Ayanokoji.
Everyone turned toward the door.
He had arrived.
--------------------------------
What does everyone think Ayanokoji has plotted? And do you think Ayanokoji will succeed in saving Horikita from Ryuen? I'd love to hear your theories, although I'm not sure if anyone will get this one.
Lastly, I've been getting a couple of questions recently about my writing, so I wanted to say if you guys have anything you want to ask me or say (even if it isn't about writing or the story), do it here. I'll be getting to every comment.