COTE :  Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

After returning to the classroom, Class A began discussing the arrangements for the Sports Festival.

Due to the large number of participants required and the significant amount of extra time needed for coordination, the school had generously handed the weekly two-hour homeroom period over to the students for free use. Naturally, how to utilize that time was a matter for each class to decide on their own.

As for Class A...

"No way, Boss. Give me a break." Hashimoto Masayoshi sidled up to Fuyuji Mikage with a pained expression, phone in hand, discreetly demonstrating his loyalty. "That Ryuen guy is way too slippery. Talking to him is pure torture."

With that, he handed his phone to Fuyuji. On it was the thrilling, intrigue-laden exchange between two scheming boys.

The gist of it was that Hashimoto had tried to gain Ryuen Kakeru's trust, while Ryuen had pretended to go along with it in order to lure Hashimoto out and beat him up. They'd kept trying to out-trap one another, layer after layer, until in the end neither could tell whether the other was being sincere or laying a trap.

"A failure, then." Fuyuji was not particularly surprised.

Ryuen's deeply suspicious nature all but guaranteed he would never trust anyone. The only reason they'd managed to trick him last time was because it had been Hashimoto's first deal with him, and there had been a contract involved.

It had only ever been an attempt—no harm done either way.

"So, do we continue with this approach?" Katsuragi Kohei, standing beside Fuyuji, asked in a deep voice.

Tampering with the entry form was currently the only method that allowed for any real maneuvering. If they abandoned it, what remained was purely a head-on clash of each class's physical abilities.

And against Class C—full of habitual brawlers and delinquents—Katsuragi privately believed Class A had no guaranteed chance of victory.

"Ah..."

Fuyuji let out a long, helpless sigh. He turned his head and swept his gaze back and forth between Katsuragi and Hashimoto, his eyes brimming with pity.

"Nothing for it, then. At this point, there's no choice but to call upon our secret weapon..."

"Secret weapon?"

Both Katsuragi and Hashimoto felt their hearts jolt simultaneously. An ominous premonition rose within them.

...

At dusk, the sun—like a red balloon leaking air—lazily sank behind the building. The sounds from the teaching building gradually grew sparse.

Classroom lights winked out one by one. The footsteps in the corridor first turned intermittent and scattered, then ceased altogether, leaving it utterly empty. One could see straight to the very end.

In the gradually darkening corridor, a chaotic flurry of footsteps suddenly sounded, drawing near from afar, then came to a halt.

A cowering, furtive shadow peeked out from the corner at the far end. After scouting left and right for a moment, it hung its head and scurried quickly up the stairs, pushing open the door to the teaching building's rooftop.

The lingering glow of the setting sun spilled down, illuminating the newcomer's face.

The undisputed alpha of Class D's sub-humans—Yamauchi Haruki!

On the rooftop, Katsuragi, Hashimoto, Kito, and several other Class A students who often moved together with Katsuragi stared with barely-restrained grimaces at the sleazy-looking figure before them—a person whose very presence made them feel their intelligence was being insulted.

God damn it, they should have known better than to come!

They finally understood why Fuyuji had bolted the moment he'd finished briefing Katsuragi on the relevant details. Who could have imagined they'd actually have to negotiate with this... this thing?!

"Wha—what do you want?!" Yamauchi was startled by the varied expressions greeting him. "I-I'm warning you—I'm a taekwondo black belt! I was scouted by the national team back in elementary school, you know!"

Katsuragi Kohei: "..."

Hashimoto Masayoshi: "..."

The assembled Class A students: "..."

They were in the clear. Everything was perfectly in hand. That familiar flavor was unmistakable!

"Now, now..." Hashimoto plastered on his usual businesslike, genial smile. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he walked over and slung an arm around Yamauchi's shoulders in a friendly manner. "We're just worried you might go all-out on us, Yamauchi-kun. We don't have skills like yours." As he spoke, he patted his own chest with a look of lingering trepidation.

The assembled Class A students: "..."

Hashimoto, how the hell can you even say that kind of thing? No wonder you're Fuyuji-san's number one bootlicker!

"Th-that's right!" Puffed up by Hashimoto's flattery, Yamauchi instantly inflated with pride. He puffed out his chest and gave Hashimoto an approving look. "At least you lot know your place. If I ever got serious, I could absolutely take every last one of you down, yep."

So saying, he gave Hashimoto's back a deliberately robust pat. "Uh... who were you again? I see a lot of potential in you. How about becoming my underling? You just need to pay me a tribute of ten thousand—twenty thousand—no, I misspoke—thirty thousand points a month, and I'll guarantee your safety."

Crack—!

Hashimoto wrenched his head to the side, his teeth practically grinding to dust, his fist clenching with an audible crunch.

Goddamn leech! For the sake of graduating from Class A—endure!

"Enough."

At that moment, Katsuragi spoke up at precisely the right moment, cutting off Yamauchi's words. He then pulled a contract from his pocket and handed it to Yamauchi.

"If there are no issues, sign it."

The content of the contract was very simple. Yamauchi was to secretly photograph the correct Class D entry form and hand it over to Class A. In exchange, Class A would give Yamauchi fifty thousand private points. Violation would mean expulsion.

Yamauchi snatched the contract from Katsuragi's hand. His eyes swept over the number "50,000 points" like twin searchlights.

Then, as if suddenly recalling something, his brow furrowed tightly.

"F-fifty thousand?"

Yamauchi's head shot up, dissatisfaction and scorn surfacing on his face. "Oi, oi, Katsuragi, you Class A guys are way too stingy! You get almost one hundred seventy thousand private points from the school every month, and you're only giving me a measly fifty thousand?! If that dead-faced Horikita finds out about this, they'll kill me, y'know!"

His arms—hardly muscular—flailed about exaggeratedly, flecks of spittle flying wildly in the sunset light.

Hashimoto leaned back ever so slightly without making it obvious, his businesslike smile nearly cracking.

"Danger to your life?" Katsuragi's robust frame stood as steady as a mountain. "As far as I'm aware, your standing in Class D was never good to begin with. Moreover, the Class D students do not currently know you are in contact with us. This risk exists solely in your own imagination. So long as you are careful, there is absolutely no chance of being discovered. Furthermore, this time we are partners. Obtaining your class's entry form is merely to prevent your class's seeded participants from clashing with ours."

"That's right."

At this moment, Hashimoto poked his head in at the opportune moment and added, with a touch of lament, "If we were in opposing groups, we might've paid two or three hundred thousand for this intel. Too bad we're in the same group this time."

"Th-that's still not enough!"

Yamauchi was momentarily choked up, then immediately stiffened his neck. Mimicking the tone he remembered Koenji Rokusuke using, he tossed his greasy short hair with feigned elegance, trying to bolster his presence.

"I'm Class D's ace! Without me, there's no way you'd ever learn about Class D's secret weapon! You think a measly fifty thousand points can send me packing? It's gotta be at least... at least two hundred thousand! No, five hundred thousand! Yeah, five hundred thousand is what a genius like me is worth!"

At these words, Kito Hayato's mouth twitched violently, as if he had witnessed something utterly contaminating to his vision. This demon-like man ultimately bowed his head in defeat.

Among the other Class A students, some pressed hands to their foreheads, while others simply turned their faces away, their shoulders trembling faintly.

Five hundred thousand?! He actually had the nerve to ask for that?! Last time he'd sold out the VIP for a mere five thousand points. Now he dared open his mouth and demand five hundred thousand?!

Hashimoto raised a hand to his forehead with a sigh.

Boss, I take it back. Let's go with Ryuen instead. At least he won't trample all over my brain cells.

"In that case, the deal is off. This ends here. Please leave!"

Having learned from last time, Katsuragi clearly now understood exactly how to handle people like Yamauchi. Without pausing a moment longer, he turned and began to walk away.

"W-wait, wait up! Don't go, don't go!"

Seeing his prize duck about to fly away, Yamauchi hurriedly stretched out his hand, desperately trying to keep them there.

"How about just three hundred thousand..."

Katsuragi continued walking without looking back.

"Two hundred thousand! One hundred thousand! One hundred thousand! Our class's participation order has got to be worth at least a hundred thousand, right?!" Yamauchi's voice grew more and more frantic, his tone clearly laced with panic.

"Goodbye." Katsuragi replied coldly.

"Alright, alright! F-fifty thousand! Fifty thousand it is!"

Yamauchi immediately snatched the pen Hashimoto had extended at just the right moment. Without even looking carefully, he scrawled his crooked, twisted signature onto the contract, his movements so quick it was as if he were afraid they might change their minds.

"The points! When do I get the points?! Now! Right now! I want to see those points deposited!" The moment he finished signing, he stuffed the contract back into Hashimoto's hands, then urgently fished out his own phone. His fingers trembled as he tapped the screen awake.

Expressionless, Katsuragi put away the contract and shot Hashimoto a look.

Hashimoto immediately operated his phone to make the transfer.

A few seconds later, a soft "ding" rang out.

Yamauchi stared at the notification that popped up on his phone screen—"50,000 Private Points Received." A grin of ecstatic, utterly blissful satisfaction instantly bloomed across his face. The haggling desperation from moments ago was swept completely away, leaving only pure, unadulterated fanaticism for money.

"A reminder: this transaction with our class absolutely must not be exposed. Otherwise, what awaits you is the punishment of expulsion."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. So naggy." Yamauchi kept his gaze locked dead on his phone, a snickering laugh spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Following the principle of "out of sight, out of mind," Katsuragi coldly tossed out a final "Remember what you said," then led the Class A group away without a backward glance, striding briskly off the rooftop.

...

A dozen or so minutes later.

Having returned to the rooftop, the Class A group watched from afar as Yamauchi bolted at a near-sprint toward Keyaki Mall.

"Do you think... with an IQ like his, he'll figure out he can also sell Class D's entry form to Class C?"

Gazing out at the figure that had already shrunk into a black dot, one of the boys let out a sigh and voiced his question.

"Probably. Fifty thousand points—the way he burns through them, they won't last long. He'll come up with the idea on his own soon enough."

Hashimoto added with a cheerful laugh, "At worst, I can always drop him a subtle hint when the time comes."

Class A's plan was exceedingly simple. Having already confirmed that the Red group—with Horikita Manabu and Nagumo Miyabi in its ranks—was certain to achieve victory, cooperation within the first-year Red group had lost all meaning.

And Class D's current class points sat at zero. Aside from taking first place among the first-years, none of the remaining outcomes would add to their class points.

In other words, Class D was, in truth, just as much a competitor to Class A.

Since Ryuen from Class C was far too wary to take the bait, switching to a different class was no different.

The principle was similar to horse racing strategy. If Ryuen's Class C learned that Class D was sending an inferior horse to a particular event, he would most likely send a middling horse to compete. Then Class A, following behind based on the entry form, would send a superior horse to devour that middling horse.

There were naturally risks involved, but even if they were exposed, they could still promptly obtain information by pumping Yamauchi for it. What remained after that was simply a matter of who could stack their layers of deception higher—or whether they'd simply stop caring about their opponents altogether and leave Arisu to keep battling wits with the empty air. After all, the only loss at stake was a mere fifty thousand points.

The point deductions in this competition weren't severe, so even failure wouldn't truly injure them. Class A could afford to loosen the reins just a little.

Once Yamauchi completed this transaction, he would naturally realize there was profit to be made. Class B's goody-two-shoes students were obviously not viable trading partners. That left only Class C.

As for whether Ryuen would take the bait—that was nothing to worry about.

They still had some confidence in Yamauchi's abilities on that front.

Last time, even someone as shrewd as Hashimoto had proactively approached them for a deal, and Ryuen had still tried to bite back. Let alone someone like Yamauchi, who started floating to the ceiling after just the slightest bit of flattery.

Meat delivered right to his doorstep—would a sneaky, underhanded bastard like Ryuen really pass it up?

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50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!