"What's wrong?"
Hachiman noticed that Ayanokōji's so-called "nemesis," the ever-smiling Arisu Sakayanagi, was looking at him strangely—her violet eyes shimmering with something that looked suspiciously like excitement.
Wait, no way.
She couldn't possibly be interested in him… right?
No. Absolutely not.
That's just one of the three great illusions of life.
"So, what are you really here for?" Hachiman asked, popping another sushi into his mouth.
"You didn't invite me here just to treat me to lunch, did you?"
"Although treating you to lunch sounds nice," Sakayanagi said with a graceful smile, leaning forward slightly, "I actually have a request. I'd like your help… in bringing down Class C."
"And if you succeed," she continued softly, "I'll make sure you're properly—"
"I'm leaving."
Hachiman stood up.
"Wait, Hachiman? I haven't even told you my offer yet!" she protested, her tone turning faintly irritated.
"I'm not interested in class wars," Hachiman replied flatly.
"Then maybe you'll be interested in this?"
Sakayanagi lifted her phone with a delicate hand, showing the balance on her screen: over two million private points.
Two months, and she'd already gathered that much? That meant she had at least ten loyal subordinates in Class A feeding her their points.
"Impressive," Hachiman admitted. "But your request sounds like a hassle."
To him, wasting time scheming for interclass dominance was pointless. Better to quietly study, improve himself, and graduate on his own terms. Whether he ended up in Class A or not didn't matter—he could always pass the national exams and get into a good university the normal way.
Sakayanagi seemed to read his thoughts and sighed softly. "I see… what a pity."
Then, with a few quick taps on her phone—ding!
A transfer notification popped up on Hachiman's device.
500,000 points.
"What's this supposed to mean?" he asked.
"Consider it a protection fee," she said, smiling sweetly. "If anyone from Class B or C comes to you, please refrain from targeting Class A."
"You don't need to do this. I told you, I'm not getting involved in class conflicts."
"Then think of it as a little gift," Sakayanagi replied smoothly. "Business isn't just about profit—it's about goodwill. Let this be a token of my sincerity for any future cooperation."
Her words were watertight. Not a single angle left open for rejection.
Hachiman sighed internally. This girl's seriously a handful.
But since she'd gone that far, refusing her would just make things more complicated. So he reluctantly accepted the five hundred thousand.
***
Lunch ended.
Afternoon classes passed.
After school, Hachiman was on his way to the Martial Arts Club when three large figures blocked his path.
"You Hachiman Hikigaya from Class D?"
"The guy Ibuki's got a crush on, huh? Looks pretty average to me."
The one in the lead was a red-haired delinquent type, flanked by a massive black guy nearly two meters tall and another dull-faced musclehead who looked like he'd lost a few too many brain cells.
"…"
Hachiman said nothing, dead fish eyes unblinking.
"Still calm even when surrounded, huh?" the redhead chuckled. "Not bad. You've got guts."
"I'm Ryūen Kakeru from Class C," he said, smirking. "I came to discuss a little business."
"Not interested."
Hachiman brushed past him.
"Hey!"
"Who said you could walk away?"
The square-faced one—Ishizaki Daichi—reached for his shoulder.
In an instant, Hachiman caught Ishizaki's wrist, twisted, and struck his abdomen with a quick palm thrust.
"Gah—?!"
Completely unprepared, Ishizaki doubled over, gagging and coughing up stomach acid.
"Oh-ho?" Ryūen's grin widened. "Didn't expect that. Guess the Martial Arts Club rumors were true."
"Albert."
The giant black student lunged forward.
Hachiman kicked hard, but Albert crossed his arms to block and used his strength to shove him backward. Hachiman braced against the floor, pushed off, and launched a twin-kick that hit Albert square in the chest, forcing the man to back off, wheezing.
"Ha!"
Ryūen dashed forward with a flying knee strike.
Hachiman caught it mid-air, pressing down with his palms to neutralize the hit. Ryūen swung wildly, his punches fast but sloppy—classic street brawling with no real form. Hachiman easily parried each one.
"Are you done yet?"
He found an opening and countered with a solid punch to Ryūen's mouth.
"Pfft—hah!" Ryūen wiped the blood from his lip and laughed. "You think that's enough to take me down?"
He wasn't backing off—in fact, his fighting spirit only grew.
"You bastard, you actually hit me!" Ishizaki snarled, clutching his stomach as he staggered back into position.
Albert exhaled deeply and straightened, ready for round two.
"Now it's three against one," Ryūen said, cracking his knuckles. "Still think you can win?"
"Yeah."
"In fact, I like my odds."
Ryūen's smirk faltered. "The hell did you just say?"
Ishizaki, enraged, was about to charge again when—
"Stop, Ishizaki!" Ryūen barked.
"B-but, boss—"
"I said stop!" Ryūen glared at him sharply.
Hachiman tilted his head slightly. "Huh. So you're not as brainless as you look."
"Tch! Don't get cocky, dead-fish eyes," Ryūen spat. "If I didn't care about losing points, I'd beat you into the pavement right now."
"And then what?" Hachiman shot back calmly. "You'd just camp outside my classroom every day until all your points are gone? Go ahead. My class barely has any to lose anyway. Let's see who breaks first."
His tone was light, almost casual—but the threat underneath it was unmistakable.
"…"
Ishizaki froze. After thinking about it, he realized—Hachiman was completely serious.
"Ha!" Ryūen burst into laughter. "Interesting. No wonder Sakayanagi tried to recruit you."
Then his grin turned sharp. "Fine, I'll cut to the chase. Whatever Sakayanagi's paying you, I'll double it."
Hachiman frowned slightly.
It made sense.
Class A had more total points, sure—but Sakayanagi didn't control them all yet. Ryūen, on the other hand, ruled Class C alone. That meant his wallet ran deeper than hers.