The name, however, triggered a spark of recognition in Jin's mind. Totsuka?
In this sprawling, interconnected mashup of worlds, Jin remembered a face, a voice, and a peculiar encounter.
He looked toward the loyal follower and spoke up. "Excuse me, that classmate—Do you happen to know someone named Totsuka Saika?"
Totsuka Yahiko blinked, his aggressive posture softening into pure bewilderment. "You know my sissy cousin?"
He seemed genuinely floored to meet an acquaintance of his family in this isolated, high-pressure environment.
Jin smiled, a genuine, small curve of the lips. "It's nothing big. I just happened to step in once when he was being mistaken for a girl and harassed by some goons in an alleyway. It was quite the misunderstanding."
Yahiko let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Even though Saika is... well, the way he is... thank you for saving him. You've got my gratitude. Umm...?"
"Jin. Arima Andras Jin."
"Thank you, Arima-san."
"You really are an interesting one, Arima-san," a melodic, playful voice drifted from the side. Sakayanagi Arisu, perched in her seat with her cane resting against her legs, leaned forward.
Her eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and predatory curiosity. "Saving damsels—or in this case, gentle cousins—in distress. You have a habit of being at the center of things, don't you?"
"You flatter me, Sakayanagi-san," Jin replied smoothly, offering a polite nod.
The brief moment of personal connection acted as a circuit breaker for the classroom's hostility. The "acquaintance phase" drew to a close, and the air shifted back to the cold reality of their situation.
Katsuragi Kohei, refocusing on the stalemate, turned his gaze toward Sakayanagi Arisu. He wasn't one for small talk, especially not when the leadership of Class A was at stake.
"Sakayanagi-san, what do you suggest we do about this tie? We cannot remain leaderless while the other classes begin their preparations."
Sakayanagi Arisu smiled gracefully, a look that never quite reached her eyes. "I have no particular opinion on the matter, Katsuragi-kun. If this is the result of my dear classmates' honest votes, then I shall simply accept it as the will of the collective."
Her words were polished to a mirror shine, yet the subtext was razor-sharp. She wasn't yielding an inch. She was essentially saying that unless the class moved in her direction, she was content to let the stalemate rot the room. It was a game of chicken played with polite smiles.
"You…" Katsuragi began, his patience visibly fraying.
"Excuse me."
Before the two titans of Class A could lock horns again, Jin stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the classroom's internal politics. He moved with a confidence that suggested he belonged there, despite being an outsider.
"How about we pause the election for now?"
He looked between Katsuragi and Sakayanagi, gauging their reactions.
"We didn't just come here to watch a deadlock. We have something critical to discuss. Once we've laid it out, you can resume your voting with a much clearer picture of what the future holds."
He paused, letting the weight of his presence sink in. "Depending on what we tell you—and based on your own judgment of the decisions required—your classmates might even change their minds about who they want leading them through the coming storm."
Katsuragi weighed the proposition. He was a pragmatist at heart. If Jin had information that could break the tie or redefine the class's needs, it was illogical to refuse. He glanced at Sakayanagi, who merely tilted her head like a curious cat.
"Fine," Katsuragi nodded. "I'll go along with a recess."
"In that case," Sakayanagi added, her voice a soft purr, "I suppose I'll agree as well. So, Arima-san, what exactly is it that you wish to discuss that is so much more important than our internal hierarchy?"
Ichinose Honami stepped forward, sensing the opening. "If I may... given the situation, perhaps a joint committee is the best way to ensure the security of Class A's points?"
Katsuragi Kohei, seeing no other way to save face, nodded slowly. "Agreed. We will review the terms as a temporary council."
As the four of them—Katsuragi Kohei, Sakayanagi Arisu, Ichinose Honami, and Jin—gathered around a central desk, the rest of the class watched in awe.
Jin leaned in, whispering just loud enough for Sakayanagi Arisu to hear. "You planned the tie, didn't you?"
Sakayanagi Arisu's eyes glinted with a mischievous, cold light. She didn't answer, but the way she adjusted her cane told him everything he needed to know. She hadn't just won the election; she had paralyzed her opponent and forced a collaboration on her own terms.
"Now then," Sakayanagi Arisu said, looking at the contract. "Let's see just how much Class B thinks our future is worth."
She turned her full attention to Jin and Ichinose Honami, who had been standing by with a composed, professional air.
"Take a look at this first," Jin signaled. Ichinose Honami reached into her bag and pulled out two sets of documents—official contracts, crisp and smelling of fresh ink. She handed one to Katsuragi Kohei and the other to Sakayanagi Arisu.
As they began to read, the atmosphere in the room changed. Katsuragi Kohei's expression shifted dramatically; his eyes narrowed, his posture tensed, and a look of genuine shock crossed his face. He was seeing the skeletal structure of the school's true nature for the first time.
Sakayanagi Arisu, conversely, simply kept smiling. Her reaction was less about shock and more about confirmation. As the daughter of the Chairman, she moved through this school with a different set of lenses, and Jin's move seemed to satisfy a private hypothesis she had held.
"So... this is what you wanted to negotiate," Katsuragi Kohei muttered, his voice dropping an octave. "You're offering to sell us the school's hidden rules, bound by a legalistic contract preventing us from reselling the data?"
"That's right, Katsuragi-kun," Jin confirmed. He then turned to address the entire class, raising his voice so even the students in the back rows were forced to listen.
"Today is only the first academic day. But the school has already revealed its teeth. Haven't any of you noticed something strange about the 'generosity' of this place? The lack of restrictions? The sudden influx of points?"
"What are you implying?" a student asked, though the bravado was gone, replaced by a creeping dread.
"It means that while most are still celebrating their admission, our class has already solved the puzzle," Jin replied, his gaze sweeping the room.
"The school isn't just a place of learning; it's a system of evaluation. And right now, Class A is flying blind. We are here to sell you the radar."
Sakayanagi Arisu stood up, her cane clicking rhythmically against the floor—tap, tap, tap—as she walked toward Jin. As she stopped just a foot away, a faint, elegant fragrance drifted from her, contrasting with the clinical nature of their talk.
"You're saying you've already found the 'answer key' to the S-System," she said, her piercing violet eyes locking onto his. "And you've come to the elite Class A to see if we're smart enough to buy it."
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Jin didn't flinch. He met her gaze with an intensity that matched her own. "We paid a steep price in Private Points to secure this information through official channels. We aren't here to give handouts."
Ichinose Honami stepped forward, her voice warm but firm. "This contract, as you can see, bears the official school seal. It's the same stamp found on your acceptance letters. It proves that the information we hold is legitimate and recognized by the administration. This isn't a rumor; it's the law of the school."
"I see," Katsuragi said, looking down at the paper again. "I noticed the irregularities in the handbook... the vague wording regarding the monthly allowance... but I hadn't considered the school would allow the purchase of the 'rules' themselves."
He looked at Jin with a newfound respect. He wasn't too arrogant to admit he had been outmaneuvered in the first hour of the first day. "So, what's your price?"
Jin held up a single finger. The room went silent.
"One million Private Points. Non-negotiable." The number hit the room like a physical blow. Gasps erupted in an instant.
"One million?! Are you insane?"
"That's nearly our entire collective budget for the month!"
Jin's gaze turned icy as he looked at the protestors. "We paid two million to unlock these truths. We are taking the risk. We are providing the shortcut. By selling to you and the other classes, we are effectively subsidizing the cost for everyone."
He looked back at the two leaders. "We are offering this to all four classes. Well, perhaps not Class D, depending on how they behave.
By signing this, you ensure your class isn't the only one left in the dark when the first 'evaluation' hits. It's a bargain for survival."
He let the silence stretch. "Now, the only question is: Does Class 1-A have the vision to invest in its own future, or would you rather spend that million on snacks and games while your standing in the school withers away?"