"Huh?" Amasawa tugged at her twin ponytails and tilted her head cutely. "When you put it like that, senpai, we sound really dumb."
"Aren't you?" Yukio kept his eyes on the group below. This plan was just… ridiculously stupid.
It was like a calculus limit problem where the conditions clearly allow you to use L'Hôpital's Rule, yet the first-years insist on solving it with some other method anyway.
Not that it can't be solved—just a difference in efficiency, complexity, and unnecessary hassle.
It was weird.
Amasawa thought it over carefully, and figured it was probably tied to wanting to show off. "Maybe… everyone just wanted to prove their talent?"
"Like when the last page of homework has the worked solution, but whenever you write a different method and still get the right answer, you feel super accomplished."
"That kind of mindset is probably why everyone came up with this plan."
Yukio didn't comment.
Everyone had their own thoughts. He wasn't about to force his will and worldview onto others and demand they match his values—there was no way that would ever work.
While they were chatting, Housen had already clenched his fist.
"What the hell are you smug about? You're just a bunch of idiots!" he snarled. "I'll beat you all flat right here, then you'll hand over the points like good little dogs!"
He raised his fist, about to charge in and vent his violence—Horikita and Matsushita's faces changed instantly.
Housen actually dared to throw hands here?!
"Housen-kun!" At the critical moment, Nanase stopped him, her gaze unwavering. In her mind flashed Yukio's reminder during this morning's special training: Don't hurt anyone else.
"NANASE?" Housen's eyes narrowed. "You trying to betray us? Or are you planning to hog it all for yourself?"
If a traitor showed up among the first-years—someone who wanted to swallow the twenty million alone—that would be a problem.
They had already split up Tsukishiro's promised twenty million.
Amasawa—the one responsible for tricking Ayanokouji into buying the knife and then stealing it—would get six million.
Nanase, who handled the early-stage fake pleasantries, would get two million.
And the biggest cut—twelve million—would naturally go to him, Housen.
But with that kind of money on the table, if Nanase started pulling something right now and tried to take it all, Housen didn't mind beating his greedy teammate up.
"Don't misunderstand!" Nanase set a fighting stance and didn't retreat an inch. Her voice held no hesitation at all. "I just believe we shouldn't hurt innocent people."
"Hah?" Housen didn't give Nanase any face at all—he swung a slap right at her. "Get the hell out of my way! I don't have time for your justice game!"
Thanks to Yukio's special training—though the time had been short—Nanase didn't block or try to peel it away this time.
Instead, she sharply read Housen's range.
She stepped in—charging straight into his inner distance.
Her whole body formed a clean, beautiful diagonal line: feet braced, waist twisting, all her strength coiling into a single thread—and through her arm, she drove a punch straight into Housen's abdomen!
That sudden explosive impact sent Housen stumbling back two steps. His gut felt like a party had just started inside it—his face twisting bitterly as nausea and cramping pain surged up in waves.
Nanase didn't chase. She backed off to the side, making it clear she wasn't trying to hog anything—she simply didn't want Housen hurting innocent people.
It left Housen furious and frustrated.
But getting Ayanokouji expelled was the priority. There was no need to waste time on Nanase here—especially if she ran off.
Meanwhile, Horikita's group was completely dumbfounded.
What the hell was this now? First-years were this quick to start infighting? They'd straight-up start brawling right in front of them?
"What are you talking about?" Horikita snapped back to herself, immediately sensing something wrong in Housen and Nanase's exchange. "Hogging what? Innocent people?"
Housen didn't bother explaining anymore. He didn't even look at Horikita.
He pulled a small knife out of his pocket.
The blade—catching the faint moonlight that slipped through gaps in the leaves—reflected coldly enough to make your skin crawl.
"Housen! What are you trying to do?!" Horikita shouted.
"Are you really not worried about getting expelled?!"
A fistfight was still just a brawl.
Pulling a knife was different.
Horikita and Matsushita both realized this had gone bad and tried to stop him with their voices.
But did Housen care about their warnings?
He'd originally planned to beat them all down, but with Nanase blocking him, he could only go straight to the blade.
Without a word, he raised the knife and charged—planning to rush Ayanokouji first, beat him bloody, leave a few injuries on him.
Then later, he'd stab himself somewhere non-lethal and pin it on Ayanokouji—claim Ayanokouji pulled a knife during a counterattack and deliberately attacked him.
Perfect.
But the instant he rushed forward—a figure flickered across his vision.
His wrist locked up.
Someone had clamped down on it.
So fast—who?!
Only after his wrist was seized did Housen see it clearly. Yukio.
That terrifying senpai had appeared out of nowhere, gripping the wrist of the hand holding the knife!
"Yukio—!"
"Yukio-kun!" Matsushita and Horikita both cried out instinctively. They'd genuinely been frightened the moment Housen pulled the blade. Seeing Yukio step in to save the situation instantly calmed them.
Like as long as Yukio was here, nothing dangerous or troublesome could happen.
As if everything could be solved—bringing them an indescribable sense of security.
Even Ayanokouji—who'd deliberately come along—was stunned.
He'd been planning to deal with Housen and the others himself, but this sudden twist caught him off guard. He hadn't even noticed when Yukio arrived.
"Y-You… why are you here?!" The moment Housen saw Yukio, his nose seemed to throb with phantom pain. Some instinctive stress response kicked in—he couldn't even keep hold of the knife.
His fingers loosened on their own, and the blade fell into the grass.
"Why am I here? Why can't I be?" Yukio released him with amused ease, tossing out a teasing line. "What is this grove—your private property?"
Housen jerked back two steps in fear. Realizing how pathetic that looked, he forced himself forward one step again.
But that single step made it easy to misunderstand—like he was trying to move in and grab the knife.
Rustle—rustle—!
The bushes shook.
Ryuuen. Albert. Ishizaki. Nomura. Komiya.
More than ten guys from Yukio's class—boys who were good in a fight—stepped out from behind trees and from the grass all around.
A circle.
A full encirclement.
They boxed Housen in so hard he didn't dare take another step forward. With everyone now revealed, Yukio didn't bother hiding anything anymore.
"Housen. Just now, you were wondering how I ended up here, right?"
"What a coincidence."
"My class just happened to be playing hide-and-seek here."