Chapter 543: Episode 543
A new club policy was established.
Having secured Jane’s approval, the student council moved without hesitation. Promoting the policy was just as important as creating it. The council’s direct subordinates delivered the printed announcements to each dormitory and posted them across campus. With so many hands, the work was done in a flash.
As evening fell, it was time for the selection of the booths to be used during Club Season.
Staring at the firmly shut doors of the student council building, Dick gave the signal.
"Open them!"
’Clank!’
The moment the doors swung open, the club presidents swarmed inside like a horde of zombies.
"Everyone! Please maintain order and form a line!"
"Please calm down and form a single file!"
The subordinates struggled to control the crowd. As the students waited in a long line, their eyes fell on a poster on the wall.
"Huh, what’s this?"
"A New Club Season: Here’s What’s Changing."
As they had discussed, the Student Council transparently disclosed the criteria for budget allocation to the entire student body. The most important factors were the ‘number of members’ and ‘member retention and management.’ To evaluate retention, they also announced that monthly performance reports would be required to receive funding.
"...We have to write a report?"
"Aren’t they getting carried away just because they’re the Student Council now? They should’ve just kept things the way they were."
A few club presidents grumbled.
"It’s not all bad."
"I figured the Student Council would skim some off the top, but this means we’ll get the full amount."
Writing a report was a nuisance, but many agreed it was better than being unknowingly shortchanged on the budget.
This was especially true for Noble, the quintessential privileged club. Despite having only a small, elite membership, they had always used their powerful influence to pressure the Student Council, securing a large budget to fund their lavish lifestyle.
But with this year’s policy change, a shift was inevitable.
"Look at this! It’s a total mess, President! What are we going to do?" a female Noble member cried, shaking her president’s shoulder frantically.
Last year’s Noble president had been Prince Andre, Princess Molly’s older brother, who was now expelled from Kizen. This year’s president was the second-year’s seventh-ranked student, Elisa Celine of the Ghost Ship.
Elisa averted her gaze.
"Well, if the Student Council President decided it, I suppose we have to follow..." another girl from the club muttered.
When she saw the girl’s eyes narrow, Elisa quickly raised her voice. "St-Still, we’re the Noble club! Of course he’ll give us a generous budget! I’ll make sure of it!"
"Right? That’s our Elisa!"
’Gods,’ Elisa sighed to herself.
In truth, she couldn’t care less about the club’s problems right now. The only reason she was trying to get on Simon’s good side was because of a large-scale project her family, the Celines, was planning. It was a collaboration with Kizen, and things would get complicated if a figure like the Student Council President decided to throw a wrench in the works. She was just trying to make a good impression in advance.
’If I can’t secure a budget, the third-years will tear me to shreds. But if I complain to Simon, my family’s business will be in jeopardy.’
She agonized, scratching her head furiously. ’I never should have taken this damn club president position!’
At Kizen, it was customary for second-years to serve as club presidents, since the third-years had demanding off-campus schedules. The second-years were the ones who truly ran the clubs. While Elisa was lost in her frantic calculations, the line shortened until it was finally her turn.
"You’re next. Please enter," a servant announced with a bow.
Elisa snorted and strode into the student council room with a deliberately confident gait.
’Scritch, scritch...’
Ahead, she saw Vice President Meirin Villenne sitting at a desk by herself, a club season booth layout and a list of names spread before her. At the larger desk behind her, Dick and Kamibarez were speaking with the club president who had been in front of them. And a little farther off, observing the entire scene while scribbling with a quill, was the boy himself: the Student Council President, Simon Polentia.
"Well, hello," Meirin greeted her, her expression anything but welcoming.
A vein throbbed on Elisa’s forehead. ’This insolent little brat.’
Meirin and Elisa had been rivals since their first year. But today, Elisa was the one in a bind, so she forced a smile and returned the greeting.
"Name," Meirin said flatly.
"Hehe, Vice President. Surely you know my name?" Elisa tried to charm her.
"I said, state your name."
"E-Elisa Celine."
Meirin gave a curt nod and wrote the name on her list. "Club name?"
’Bang!’
The girl who had come with Elisa slammed her hand on Meirin’s desk. "Cut the act! You know who we are! Don’t you know we’re the Noble club?"
Meirin shot Elisa a look as cold as ice, a silent, ’What is wrong with her?’
"Ahaha! She’s just a club member who came with me!" Elisa yelped, clapping a hand over her friend’s mouth in terror. Provoking Meirin right now was a terrible idea. "I’m the president of Noble, so I’ll handle it! Please, continue, Vice President!"
With a sullen expression, Meirin wrote ‘Noble’ on the document. "This year’s club season will be held in the first-year campus’s central plaza. You can choose your booth now."
"O-Of course, we’ll take—!"
Just as she had last year, Elisa reached for the largest, most prominent booth, but her hand froze. Another name was already written there.
[Hemomancy Research Society, Sadam.]
"Wh-What is this?!" ’Sadam took this spot?’
While Elisa stood there, dumbfounded, her friend lunged forward. "Wait a minute! This is our booth! Who chose this spot?!"
"Are you blind?" Meirin retorted, propping her chin on her hand. "It clearly says ‘Sadam’ right there."
"This has been Noble’s booth for over ten years! You should have had the sense to keep it open for us! Is this how the student council does its job? Half-assed?"
"And how is not catering to ’your’ every whim the same as us doing a half-assed job?" Meirin shot back.
The girl’s mouth fell open. "Wow. So that’s how you’re going to be? Do you have any idea who the third-year seniors in Noble are?"
"Why the hell—" Meirin shot up from her seat, her voice laced with fury. "Are you bitching at me when you’re the ones who were late?"
The other girl flinched at the sudden force of her presence.
"Didn’t you know the booths were first-come, first-served? Or is your brain so fried you thought you’d get special treatment even if you were late? If your precious seniors have a problem, I’ll be happy to tell them myself. I’ll say their lazy juniors couldn’t be bothered to show up on time and lost the best spot. And if you have a complaint, take it up with Sadam. Why are you giving us shit when we’re just trying to be impartial?"
"You... you...! Do you know who I am?!"
"Are you seriously pulling the family card at Kizen like some first-year? If you’ve got a problem, go pick a fight with the Ivory Tower. You got the guts for that?"
The girl’s face turned beet red as she stammered, "B-b-buh..." It seemed she’d never been subjected to such humiliation before; her brain had simply shut down.
"Now, get lost," Meirin said, sitting back down and striking Noble’s name from the list with a flick of her quill. "Next."
"W-Wait!"
In the end, it was up to Elisa to clean up the mess. After ushering her sobbing friend out of the room, she scrambled back to the desk.
"S-Sorry, Vice President! We’ll take this spot here!" she said, pointing to the next-best location.
Meirin sighed, her bangs fluttering in the exhale. "If your seniors really give you a hard time, try talking to Sadam. You can switch booths if you both agree."
"Ah. Okay. Got it!" Elisa nodded quickly. Of course, that meant they’d have to pay Sadam a hefty price.
After writing Noble’s name in the new space, Meirin gestured behind her—a clear signal to leave now that she was registered.
’Sigh.’
Enduring a throbbing headache, Elisa moved to the next station.
"Welcome!" Kamibarez greeted her with a bright smile from her seat.
"That was fucking hilarious," Dick snickered beside her, clutching his stomach. "Why would she pick a fight with Meirin? She had to know she has a temper."
"...Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe she’s in a different class and had no idea," Elisa muttered, then looked at Kamibarez, urging her to get started.
Kamibarez picked up a document. "Will you be needing a budget for this club season?"
"Of course. We need to put up banners, print materials, and a bunch of other things."
"Ahem. My dear client, I’m afraid that won’t do," Dick interjected, instantly switching to business mode as he presented a quill with a flourish. "To get the budget approved, you need to specify exactly where, what, and how you plan to use it."
Elisa took the offered quill, a look of disbelief on her face. "Are you guys always this strict?"
"‘If you’re going to do something, do it right.’ That’s our president’s motto," Dick said, pointing behind him. Simon was visible in the president’s chair, signing documents. "But I can promise you this." Dick spread his arms, a wide grin on his face. "As long as you follow the rules, your club budget will be larger than last year’s. It definitely won’t be less."
"Hm..."
"We’re a student council that doesn’t skim off the top."
---
The new system was surprisingly well-received. In truth, Simon’s student council wasn’t the first to implement such a policy. Meirin had discovered that, while rare, other student councils had tried similar systems in the past. Using their records, they were able to prepare the changes in a short amount of time.
The school’s policies had always shifted with the disposition of the current Student Council President. The previous year, under Phantassos, the council had stuck to the old rules to crush the three major clubs that were attempting to manipulate things from behind the scenes. Now, with only Noble remaining, Simon had the freedom to forge a new path.
With the booths confirmed, a massive construction project erupted in the first-year central plaza. Students, servants, and even hired workers from off-campus swarmed the area, erecting booths and hanging banners. Some clubs were content with simple awnings, while others built elaborate sets or even installed full cooking stations. The air filled with the clamor of hammers and saws.
Being a necromancy school, the scene was punctuated by the bizarre sight of undead skeletons hauling lumber and steel beams. Colorful pennant flags fluttered above the booths while balloons and banners adorned the walls. First-years on their way to class could only gawk, their eyes wide with curiosity.
Time passed, and on the eve of the weekend, the club season officially began.
"WOOHOO!"
An enormous crowd flooded the plaza. First-year students swarmed everywhere, eagerly exploring the booths. It was the one time of year when seniors let their guard down. Second-years in mascot costumes handed out flyers, while others sported ridiculous makeup. Simon and Dick were also there, inspecting the grounds.
"Isn’t this... a little excessive?" Simon asked with a smile, scratching the side of his head. Instead of a simple booth, one club had constructed a massive artificial cave, like something out of an amusement park. A sign out front read <Dungeon Research Club>. Next to it, the athletics club was stoking the competitive spirit of the male students with a punching machine that echoed with loud ’thwacks’ and ’pows’.
"Somehow, it’s even more spectacular than last year."
"You’re the one who lit the fire, Simon," Dick chuckled. "With the budget now tied more closely to membership numbers, they’re all pulling out the stops."
"Hmm."
As Simon casually surveyed the scene, he realized a war had already broken out.
"Not interested in the flight club?"
"Join the transformation club!"
"Real men join the physique club!"
The competition to recruit new members was fierce. First-years looked utterly overwhelmed as swarms of seniors descended upon them.
’But for some reason...’ Simon crossed his arms, a dry laugh escaping his lips. ’It feels like there are more second-years here than first-years.’
"Hey, guys!"
Just then, Meirin and Kamibarez came running over, clutching stacks of files.
"We have a problem!" Meirin announced.
With a look that said, ’I knew it’, Dick tugged his student council armband higher on his sleeve. "Let’s go."