"Well, this morning when I went to the supermarket to buy supplies, I found that my account balance was insufficient. Didn't we agree that the school would distribute individual points on the first of every month? I couldn't even buy a Coke—it was urgent!"
Hideo Sotomura's voice carried a hint of desperation.
It wasn't hard to tell—he really did love his Happy Water.
"Sotomura," Chabashira Sae said flatly, "as I mentioned before, individual points are deposited on the first of each month. To ensure there are no mistakes, the school sends a confirmation message to every student."
"But we didn't receive it this time!" Yamauchi Haruki protested, frowning. "Chabashira-sensei, you're not embezzling our points, are you?"
Another divine revelation from Yamauchi.
Chabashira's expression twisted in irritation, the kind that suggested she was moments away from developing a deep hatred for mankind.
If she answered every stupid question like this, she'd lose her sanity before long.
"I repeat," she said sharply, "the points have already been deposited into your personal accounts. That is a confirmed fact."
She crossed her arms. "Don't harbor any naive illusions."
At this point, Chabashira didn't even bother with subtlety—the truth was sitting right there on the table.
But of course, someone had to ask anyway. "So… why is that?"
Chabashira's lips twitched. She actually laughed—an angry, incredulous laugh. Then she exploded:
"You really are a bunch of unbelievably stupid students!!!"
The entire classroom froze, stunned by Chabashira's sudden outburst. Then, laughter erupted across Class D.
"Hahahaha~ What an amusing display," came a carefree voice from the back.
Of course, only one person in Class D could laugh so unrestrained—Kouenji Rokusuke, the self-proclaimed "blonde young master."
He always mixed in a few English words when he spoke, as if that somehow made him more elegant. To everyone else, it just made him sound ridiculous.
Hikigaya couldn't help but sigh internally.
"Kouenji," Chabashira said with a faint smirk, "you seem to already know the answer. Why don't you share it with the class?"
Her eyes gleamed, trying to coax him into speaking.
But Kouenji saw right through her. "I have no obligation to explain to mediocrity," he said arrogantly. Then, with a casual grin, he turned his attention elsewhere. "Fish-Eye Boy, aren't you going to say something?"
Eh?
Who on earth was "Fish-Eye Boy"? Was there someone like that in this class?
As Hikigaya looked around, pretending not to know who Kouenji was referring to, he realized everyone's gazes were suddenly fixed on him.
Wait—no way.
That ridiculous nickname wasn't even approved by him! Why was everyone acting like it was obvious?!
He would rather be called Penguin!
And Horikita Suzune, sitting beside him, was clearly trying to suppress her laughter. If she laughed any harder, he swore he'd start calling her "Hikigaya Suzune" and drag her down with him.
"Hey, Hikigaya, do you know something? Spit it out already!" Yamauchi urged impatiently.
That was the first time Yamauchi had used his actual name.
So the whole "Penguin" thing really was deliberate.
"Hmm… I'm not quite sure what you mean," Hikigaya said evasively, trying to play dumb.
"It doesn't matter if you understand," Kouenji said, propping his legs up on the desk like some arrogant CEO. "As long as I understand."
Was this guy seriously the heir to some conglomerate? Hikigaya couldn't tell—but it would explain a lot.
Still, how did he even know in the first place?
Wait.
Hikigaya suddenly remembered: on the first day of school, to get Kushida Kikyo off his back, he'd casually mentioned that "personal points have already been confirmed and distributed." His plan had been simple—say something interesting so that Kushida would draw the class's attention and stop bothering him.
Apparently, Kouenji had overheard that.
"I see now," Kushida said suddenly, her cheerful voice drawing everyone's attention. "Since Chabashira-sensei said the points have already been deposited, there's only one explanation—we received zero points this month."
The class fell silent.
Then—
"So it's really zero…" someone muttered.
"As expected of Kushida," another said. "You figured it out already!"
The praise poured in, and Kushida basked in it like sunlight. But when the follow-up questions came—
"Then why do we have zero points?"
"Didn't they say we'd get 100,000 every month?"
—she froze, smile tightening.
"Let's have Hikigaya explain that part," she said quickly, forcing a laugh.
Tch.
Brainless woman. Couldn't even finish what she started.
Under the weight of everyone's expectant gazes, Hikigaya sighed internally. There was no way he'd talk his way out of this now.
"I remember Chabashira-sensei said on the first day that the school evaluates students based on their abilities," he began. "The 100,000 points we got at the start were the school's initial evaluation of us."
He paused, then continued calmly. "Then, on the second day, Hirata received a message from an intelligence dealer—it mentioned the existence of class competition. If that's the case, there must be some kind of evaluation system. Judging by our performance this month, the school's assessment of us has dropped to zero."
Everyone's faces went pale with realization.
"T-That…"
"The info we got that day was so important!"
"If we'd known, we should've pooled our money to buy it!"
The class erupted in regret.
Hikigaya thought…Even if they were given another chance, Class D still wouldn't have been able to gather a million yen for intel.
Chabashira nodded curtly. "As Hikigaya said, new students are evaluated during their first month."
She flipped open her tablet. "Lateness and absences—98. Using phones in class—211. Littering—77."
Every figure was recorded precisely.
The students followed her gaze to the surveillance cameras mounted in every corner of the classroom.
Finally, it clicked.
"And because Yamauchi and Sudou broke a camera while playing basketball indoors," Chabashira added, glaring at the culprits, "an additional 100 points were deducted."
She turned to the blackboard and began writing:
Class A: 985 points
Class B: 940 points
Class C: 820 points
Class D: 0 points
"No way…" someone whispered.
"The difference is massive!"
Even Horikita Suzune, who had maintained her composure until now, couldn't hide her shock.
"Given that Classes A, B, and C all received information from the S System the next day," Chabashira said coldly, "each of them broke the all-time first-month record."
She clenched her teeth. "In contrast, Class D has earned the lowest score in the history of Advanced Nurturing High School."
Chabashira's tone dripped with frustration. She had predicted this outcome—had even allowed it. Her goal was to shock Class D into realizing how far behind they were, forcing them to claw their way upward through sheer desperation.
But she hadn't expected the sudden appearance of an "intelligence dealer" to give the other classes such an overwhelming advantage.
Now, with this enormous gap established from the very beginning, even she wasn't sure how Class D could ever catch up.