[46] Limitless (5)
"Eh—Amy…?"
Shirone stared blankly, the image of her face filling his head. As a target-type specialist, her targeting speed was undeniably incredible.
But a score of 987—that was practically unbreakable.
"Amy shows amazing focus in actual combat. Well, that's the part she and you have in common. She never once lost first place before she entered the graduating class."
How many prodigies were there in the world? No—this was a magic school. It felt like the whole world was full of talented people.
"You don't have to break the top record, so don't stress. Before the 987, the high score was in the 700s. The teachers say it's probably going to stand for the next ten years."
The gap was huge. Shirone didn't let himself fall into despair; he set his first target at 700. Three weeks remained until the exam. He had to find a way to raise his score in that time.
'I won't lose. No matter what!'
He clenched his fists until his knuckles ached.
* * *
Whenever he had the chance, Shirone dived into the number sequences. If he couldn't count faster than Iruki's calculation speed, there was no point in trying.
At the moment he could modularize twenty numbers—meaning he could advance twenty numbers at once. But that wasn't nearly enough to keep up with the log's enormous unit-compression.
"Damn. What do I do?"
Shirone spent whole nights in the training hall casting photon output. His zero-to-burst speed had improved drastically, but the number of digits he could count per minute was still only in the ten-thousands.
"Iruki filled a million on the first day. I have to count faster."
Besides the sequence itself, he needed to understand the exam format. If targets poured out endlessly from the start, getting 1,000 points might not be hard—but the pattern was fixed.
Ten targets would spawn in the first step; only after clearing those would the second step present eleven. Over the course of a minute the steps climbed, and the number of targets increased.
So if you didn't push the steps up quickly at the beginning, no amount of frantic catching up later would yield a high score.
"In the end, it's still about the zero-to-burst. Whoever clears the steps first can end up hundreds of points ahead later."
Practice didn't end until dawn. Returning to the dorm to collapse for a few hours and then going back to the hall to practice sequences became his routine.
During the practical exam period, combined classes were suspended and each class used the training hall in turn, so the place was quiet.
Students shared tips, practiced sequences, and waited their turn in the Image Zone. Shirone, however, felt time spent in line was wasted and kept drilling sequences until his turn arrived.
When he finally entered the Image Zone, Shirone poured out everything he'd developed. Each time a target in the jagged, living-feeling Spirit Zone was struck, a flash of photon output flared.
As he adapted to active magic, he could use photon output without the full magical action, which let him hit targets without looking back.
His final score was 567. It beat Iruki's earlier demonstration, restoring Shirone's confidence. The other students, however, seemed deflated.
"You went up over two hundred points in a week. What the hell? That's basically cheating."
"You just got accustomed to an offensive Spirit Zone. Magical actions can boost power, but they mess with your rhythm, so chaining becomes hard. I think he's casting more than four times a second."
As the Image Zone emptied and students drifted away, Iruki finally showed himself. He'd been sitting idly in a corner the whole time.
"Now it's my turn, right?"
He smiled at Shirone and activated his device. His detached Spirit Zone had shrunk even more—now the size of a fist.
The dazzling Spirit Zone erased targets. Shirone's photon flashes were flashy, but Iruki's speed had its own breathless intensity.
A minute later, Iruki walked off without checking his score, hands clasped behind his back. Final score: 568. One point ahead of Shirone.
It could be brushed off as coincidence, but Shirone felt instinctively this was another calculation of a Servant ability.
As predicted, it kept happening. Shirone improved by leaps each session, but Iruki's demos always edged him out by a single point.
Stung, Shirone threw himself deeper into the sequences. He modularized over a hundred numbers. The zero-to-burst time became instantaneous and the Spirit Zone's performance rose dramatically. He realized that the shorter the burst, the shorter he could sustain the Spirit Zone—but with his endurance he could probably hold it for about a minute.
His scores climbed day by day. He blew past Class Five's average of 500 and pushed into the 600s.
But the winner was always Iruki. The one-point margin made everything dramatic, and the students got more excited by Iruki's performances than by Shirone's.
The last training session before the exam arrived.
Since scores from the final check often counted toward the real test, everyone was more focused than ever.
Shirone gritted his teeth and cleared targets. Light burst from him in every direction, as if his body had become a luminous substance.
When the dazzling light show ended, the students shouted.
Final score: 700. Aside from Amy's record, it was near the top of Class Five.
"I can't believe that score is possible. I never thought I'd see the 700s with my own eyes."
"You can't get into the 700s unless you pass the tenth step within ten seconds. How many are you popping a second?"
Shirone checked his score and clenched his fist. It was a seventy-point jump from the last session. He'd finally reached his target—the 700s.
As Shirone stepped down, Iruki brushed past and said,
"Congrats. Seven hundred is impressive. Your growth rate is scary."
"I'll never want to lose to you."
"Heh. Fair enough. But don't get complacent. The exam hasn't even started yet."
Shirone snorted and left the Image Zone. When he turned, Iruki had already started the speed run.
The students erupted.
"Whoa! Shrinking the zone that much is a skill in itself."
Iruki had reduced his Spirit Zone to the size of a bead. He moved so fast afterimages were barely visible.
Paf-paf-paf!
As if the targets were popping on their own, booming hits rang out one after another centered on Iruki at the Image Zone's center.
When Iruki finished, Shirone's face went pale. Final score: 701. Iruki had once again knocked Shirone's best—an over-seventy-point improvement—down by one point.
Iruki's showmanship sent the students into roars. Even with the exam looming, the rivals' duel stole everyone's attention.
"701? Another one-point gap?"
For the first time, anxiety gnawed at Shirone. Cold sweat formed on his palms and his mouth went dry. If Iruki had simply gone all-out for a maximum score, he might not be this tense.
But it was another one-point margin. That meant if Shirone gave his all, he could surpass it.
The exams were next week, but Class Five's schedule was first, leaving only three days. Could he close the gap in that time? Gripped by unease, Shirone trudged down from the training hall.
* * *
It was a student-favorite holiday. Normally young couples wandered the park, but with the exam imminent the central park was quiet.
Seriel, however, crossed the park humming as if it were the perfect day for a walk. She'd submitted her promotion petition for the graduating class, so the advanced class's exams were someone else's problem now.
"Amy! Over here—over here!"
Amy sat reading by the fountain. She was still pretty, but up close her eyes looked hollow and her already thin frame had become even thinner.
"Wow—you've lost weight since I last saw you. The graduating class must be brutal."
Amy snorted and handed over some papers.
"Welcome to hell. Here—those graduating-class files you asked for."
They were lists of grades and specialties for graduating students. It wasn't illicit—any graduating student could view them.
"Thanks. Sit down for a bit. Want something to drink?"
"Coffee. I feel like I've been living on coffee lately."
They went into a café, grabbed two coffees, and sat on a bench. Without much conversation, they watched birds fly by and idly killed time.
Amy wasn't a chatterbox like other girls. This quiet was the kind of rest she couldn't find in the graduating class.
Seriel kept silent because Amy gave off the weary scent of a veteran. Though gaunt, the graduating-class aura radiated from her.
They say a class shapes a person. For Amy, every day must be hell, but enduring it had already put a wide gap between her and the advanced class.
'I guess that has an effect. I need to get promoted quickly too.'
Sipping her iced coffee, Amy finally spoke.
"How's Shirone doing these days?"
"Why didn't you ask sooner? Haven't you seen him at all? Heard no rumors?"
"No time. Our graduating-class lessons are different from the advanced class. I heard Samuel went off as an assistant last time, though."
"I see. Actually, something interesting's been happening in Class Five lately."
Amy tilted her head. Seriel, like a fish finding water, launched into gossip. The gist was that ahead of the Speed Gun exam, Shirone and Iruki's rivalry had gotten fascinating.
"You say he used logs to reduce units? That's novel. Well, fits Iruki, I guess."
"Huh? You know Iruki?"
"Of course. He was a classmate. I didn't see him long since I promoted fast, but—he's one of those, right? Servant syndrome."
"Oh? You really know him? Talk to him? He seemed pretty unsociable."
"Yeah. When I first joined Class Five, he came over and talked to me."
Seriel's eyes went wide.
"What? He hit on you? How cute! Then this is a love-rival showdown over someone beloved! Front-page material!"
"Don't be ridiculous. He's weird. Sometimes what he says sounds right, but I don't feel any sympathy. I think he tried the same routine on me that he did to Shirone—picked a fight at first sight. I ignored him. Maybe he lost interest when he realized I was a girl."
"Hmm, so he's a genius-hunter? Shirone got unlucky then."
"Not unlucky—just a hurdle to clear. Still, it must be rough. It's a targeting test, and if Iruki uses logs he'll score pretty high."
Seriel scowled dramatically.
"What kind of talk is that? Your boyfriend's in danger. You can't help, but at least cheer for him. What if Shirone loses to Iruki?"
"You can lose in competition. Why make a fuss?"
Amy showed little reaction—probably because she fought so many bigger battles in the advanced class.
Seriel felt a twinge of disappointment.
"You've never lost! I want to see two undefeated legends together! So tell Shirone to hang in there. I'll deliver it personally."
"No thanks. You'll exaggerate it again, right? This isn't a promotion exam but a practical evaluation. Shirone's aiming for the graduating class too. It'll be good experience."
"Then at least tell me a high-score trick for the Speed Gun. You're the record holder—987."
"Hmm. But any advice I could give, Shirone probably already knows. It's not that I don't care—Shirone is genuinely excellent. He's already over 700. I just benefited from being specialized in the target type, that's all."