"My analysis isn't some rumors, it's a fact. If you check this class schedule of upperclassmen, then you will understand easily" Jin didn't feel to persuade them. He just bare the facts.
The tension in Class 1-B was no longer the buzzing excitement of a first day; it had morphed into a heavy, suffocating blanket.
Jin stood at the front of the room, the whiteboard marker still in his hand, looking less like a student and more like a surgeon about to perform a necessary, albeit painful, operation.
Hoshinomiya Chie leaned against the teacher's podium, her playful smirk momentarily replaced by a look of sharp calculation.
She had expected Jin to be clever, but the way he had just extorted information from her for 200,000 points—and the way he had looked at her—suggested a level of ruthlessness she hadn't seen in a freshman in years.
Ichinose Honami took the phone from Jin's hand. Her fingers, usually steady and warm, felt a chill creep into them as she scrolled through the archived post on the school's private forum. The post was a simple celebratory thread from a Class 2-C student from the previous year, listing the names of their "warriors" after a sports festival.
"What is it, Ichinose-san?" Shibata So asked, leaning over her shoulder. Kanzaki Ryuji and Ando Sayo followed suit.
Ichinose Honami's breath hitched. "There are… forty names on this list."
"So? We have forty students too," Shibata So countered, confused.
"Look at the date, Shibata-kun," Jin said, his voice calm and clinical. "That post was from October of their first year. Now, look at the official school directory for the current second-year Class C."
Ichinose Honami quickly navigated to the public directory on her own phone. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two screens. Her face went pale.
"Thirty-seven," she whispered. "There are only thirty-seven students left in that class."
The silence that followed was absolute. The sound of a distant bird chirping outside the window seemed absurdly out of place against the gravity of the realization.
"Three people," Jin continued, turning back to the whiteboard. He drew three large 'X' marks.
"In less than a year, three students from a single class vanished. And if you check the other classes, the pattern holds. Class 2-D is down to thirty-four. Even Class 2-A has lost one."
"They... they dropped out?" Ando Sayo asked, her voice trembling. "But why? This school is a paradise! Why would anyone leave?"
"Because the 'S-System' isn't just about rewards," Jin said, tapping the board. "It's a filter. Hoshinomiya-sensei mentioned that points can be used to 'buy' anything, including a change in class or avoiding expulsion."
"But she didn't mention the inverse: what happens when you have zero points and fail a threshold? This school is designed to create a high-pressure environment where the weak are pruned so the 'elite' can thrive."
Jin wiped a section of the board and wrote a massive figure: 20,000,000.
"This is why I need this amount. Not for me. Not to abandon you all for Class A, hell I'm even ready to sign any contract mentioning 'I will never abandoned my class for others and only way I wernt to class A is along with whole class.'"
He looked directly at Ichinose Honami, whose eyes were still wide with a mix of fear and resolve. "So please trust me. I want to create a safety net. If the school creates a situation where someone is forced to leave because they lack the 'merit' or the points to stay, I want us to be able to buy their way back in."
"20 million..." Kanzaki Ryuji muttered, his analytical mind already crunching the numbers. "Even with our class fund of 50,000 per person per month... that's 2 million a month. It would take us ten months of perfect behavior and zero spending just to reach that. And that assumes we maintain our 1,000 Class Points."
"Which we won't," Jin interrupted. "The other classes—Class A and Class C—will likely lose points this month because they haven't figured out the 'no talking/no phones' rule in class. We have an advantage because we know the rules now. But 1,000 points is the ceiling. To get to 20 million quickly, we can't just rely on the monthly allowance."
"You mentioned betting," Ichinose said, regaining her composure. She stood up, her gaze hardening. "You won 1.5 million in one day. You want to use the clubs?"
"The clubs, the upperclassmen, and the special exams," Jin nodded. "I've spent the last twenty-four hours mapping the school's social hierarchy. There are 'underground' markets for everything here. Information, previous-year test papers. I intend to exploit them all."
Jin turned his attention back to the class. "But I can't do this alone. If I'm the only one 'working,' I'll be targeted by the school administration or other classes. I need Class 1-B to be a fortress. That's why the 'Safekeeping' plan I mentioned is vital."
He pointed to the markers on the board. "Step one: The Confidentiality Agreement. If a single person tells Class A or C that we know about the S-System's point deductions, our advantage evaporates. We need them to fail while we stay perfect. Every point they lose is a gap we don't have to climb."
"I'll handle the signatures," Ichinose Honami said, her voice regaining its characteristic warmth, now tempered with a newfound steel. "I'll make sure everyone understands that a betrayal of the class is a betrayal of their own future."
"Good," Jin said. "Step two: The Treasurer. Ichinose-san, you will hold the earlier collected private points and each month everyone should contribute 50,000 private point monthly tax. This isn't just for emergencies; it's for 'investment. We save the points and pool 20 million private points as soon as possible.
Hoshinomiya Chie watched the scene unfold with a mixture of fascination and a slight, hidden dread.
She had seen "monsters" before in this school—students with genius-level intellects or terrifying physical prowess. But Jin was doing something different. He wasn't just leading; he was architecting a society within the classroom.
He's taking the 'nurturing' aspect of Class B and weaponizing it, she thought, shifting her weight. Most leaders in this school rule through fear or charisma. He's ruling through 'insurance.' He's promising them a world where no one gets left behind, but the price of that world is absolute discipline.
"You know, Arima-kun," Hoshinomiya Chie piped up, her voice playful again but her eyes sharp.
"The school doesn't usually like it when students 'bet' large sums of points. It's... against the spirit of the 'merit' system."
Jin didn't blink. "Then the school shouldn't have made the points equivalent to legal tender. If they have value, they can be traded. If they can be traded, they can be won. Unless you're saying the school rules are flexible based on how much the faculty likes the outcome?"
Hoshinomiya Chie laughed, a genuine, bell-like sound. "My, my! You really are a handful. I think I'm going to enjoy this year after all."
As the bell for the end of homeroom rang, the atmosphere in the room shifted once more. The fear of expulsion was still there, a cold shadow in the corner of the room, but it was now countered by a sense of purpose.
Jin began erasing the board, but Ichinose Honami walked up to him before he could finish.
"Arima-kun," she said softly, so only he could hear.
"The 1.5 million points. You're keeping them for yourself for now, aren't you?"
"I need capital to make more, Honami," he replied, using her given name for the first time. He didn't look at her, focusing on the whiteboard. "If I give it all to the class fund now, it sits idle. In my hands, it grows. Can you trust me with that?"
Ichinose Honami looked at his profile—the calm, almost detached expression. She thought about the list of names on the phone. The three students who had disappeared.
"I'll trust you," she said, her voice firm. "But on one condition. If you ever find yourself in a position where you have to choose between those 20 million points and a classmate... you choose the classmate."
Jin stopped erasing. He turned to look at her, his dark eyes meeting her determined blue ones.
"That's the whole point of the 20 million, Honami. So I never have to make that choice."
As the students began to filter out, talking in hushed, urgent tones about their new "tax" and the secrets they now held, Jin felt the weight of his own gambit. He had successfully unified Class B by giving them a common enemy: the fear of vanishing.
But he had also painted a target on his back. By declaring his intent to amass 20 million points, he had challenged the very foundation of the school's "merit" system.
Let's raise our class to the peak—For Class 1-B!" Jin lifted his fist, brimming with determination.
"For Class 1-B!!!"
"For Class 1-B!!!"
Everyone was infected by Jin's passionate energy, standing together in unison and chanting after him.
Many challenges lies in the path ahead. Gathering allies in this adversity shouldn't hurt right?
The sound of cheering echoed through the classroom. Ichinose Honami watched the boy at the center of it all. Despite having just met yesterday, she felt an inexplicable trust in him.
He shared her ideals, He had the same determination to help others. And most importantly he was intelligent. He was steadfast.
If Jin was by her side for the next three years… maybe she would never feel lonely again. A soft, barely noticeable smile touched her lips.
"Arima-kun! Ichinose-san!" Hoshinomiya Chie called out, waving them toward the door where a stack of heavy textbooks and equipment sat. "Don't think I forgot! You promised to help me move these to the faculty office."
Jin sighed, the "Devil" of the classroom suddenly replaced by a tired teenager. "Right. The 'manual labor' clause."
Ichinose Honami giggled, the tension finally breaking. "Come on, Arima-kun. It's a small price to pay for the future of the class."
As they walked down the hallway, carrying the heavy loads, Jin noticed several students from Class 1-D—including a somber-looking boy with sharp eyes and a beautiful, aloof girl—watching them.
Ayanokoji klKiyotaka. Horikita Suzune, Jin thought, recognizing them from the entrance ceremony. They haven't moved yet. They're still observing. But once they realize the tap has been turned off and their points are at zero... that's when the real war begins.
He adjusted his grip on the boxes. Twenty million points. It was an impossible mountain to climb. But as he looked at Ichinose Honami, who was already chatting warmly with a passing student, he knew he had the perfect "face" for his revolution.
He would be the shadow, the gambler, and the enforcer. She would be the heart and together, Class 1-B would become something this school had never seen before: a class that refused to lose a single soul.
Walking side by side behind Hoshinomiya Chie, Jin and Ichinose Honami made their way toward the office to retrieve teaching materials.
But more importantly, they had another task—printing the contract prohibiting the resale of the school's hidden rules.
The contract template was stored in the school's internal system, accessible only through faculty computers. Having an officially sanctioned contract was a crucial step in their plan.
The faculty office was a vast, quiet space that smelled faintly of old paper and expensive coffee.
Most teachers were focused on their screens, but as Jin, Ichinose Honami, and Hoshinomiya Chie entered, the air seemed to grow a fraction colder.
Sitting at a desk near the back, her sharp eyes framed by a curtain of straight black hair, was Chabashira Sae. She didn't look up immediately, but the moment they approached, she closed her laptop with a deliberate click.
Chabashira Sae is the homeroom teacher of Class 1-D, known for her apathetic and cold demeanor toward her own "defective" class.
"Ara, Sae-chan! Still working so hard? You should smile more, or you'll get wrinkles," Hoshinomiya Chie chirped, her tone deliberately provocative.
Chabashira Sae's gaze flickered to her colleague, then settled on Jin and Ichinose Honami.
"I see you're already dragging your students into your pace, Chie. And students from Class B, no less. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We're just here to print some... very important documents," Hoshinomiya Chie replied, leaning against a desk.
Jin stepped forward, maintaining his calm expression. "Actually, Chabashira-sensei, we were hoping to use the official contract template for a private student agreement. Hoshinomiya-sensei mentioned it was standard procedure for binding transactions."
Chabashira Sae's eyes narrowed. She was highly perceptive and likely sensed that something more than a simple textbook run was happening.
"A contract on your second day? You Class B students certainly move fast. Most students don't even realize Private Points can be used as a legal basis for school-sanctioned agreements this early."
"We just want to ensure our class's future is secure," Ichinose Honami added, her voice steady despite the intimidating aura Chabashira Sae projected.
Chabashira Sae leaned back, her fingers interlaced. "Security is a luxury in this school. But if you have the points to back your claims, the school will honor any contract you draft."
"Just remember—once it's signed and registered in the S-System, there is no turning back."
She turned her gaze back to Jin, a hint of curiosity finally breaking through her stoic mask.
"What is your name, student?" Chabashira Sae asked Jin.
"It's Arima Andras Jin, Sensei."
"Arima, was it? You seem to have a different air about you than the other freshmen. Don't let Class B's 'idealism' blind you to the reality of the Special Exams ahead."
With a short nod, she returned to her work, effectively ending the conversation. As Jin and Ichinose Honami moved toward the printer, the weight of her warning lingered.
Chabashira Sae knew the brutality of the school better than anyone, having lived a life of regrets from her own time as a student.