The next week, we received our project scores:
Group 5: 68 points (Below Average) Group 4: 72 points Group 3: 89 points (Our group) Group 2: 85 points Group 1: 91 points
Individual evaluation results were posted separately:
Kawasaki Yuchi - Individual: 95 points Bonus Credit Applied: +95 points Group Total Adjusted: 184 points
We'd scored the highest. Not because of merit. Because I'd correctly identified what Saito wanted to see: willingness to sacrifice, strategic thinking, and understanding of the real game.
But something else happened that morning. A girl from Block 5 didn't show up for breakfast.
"Expelled," Miyazono Rei said matter-of-factly, spreading jam on her toast. "Her group scored below average. Apparently she was trying to hide her test scores from the others, and Saito's cameras caught her."
"How do you know that?" Nomura asked.
"Because I have sources," Rei said. "Unlike you people, I actually pay attention to the staff. One of the cleaning ladies told me."
Or she's lying to establish herself as the information source, I thought. Testing if we'll trust her over official channels.
Over the next few days, I began noticing things. Small inconsistencies.
The Block 1 students—supposedly the elite—seemed unusually stressed. They had private study sessions that lasted until 2 AM. When I passed their dormitory, I could hear them arguing in low voices.
The Block 5 students were significantly fewer in number than Block 3. According to the official records, there should have been forty students per block. Block 5 had thirty-one.
And in the staff areas, I saw something that made me pause: a photograph on one of the administrator's desks. It showed MSN—but a different building. A different layout. Older.
That night, I asked Kaminari directly: "What did your sister tell you about her experience? Before she stopped talking about it?"
He was quiet for a long time.
"She said the program wasn't about education," he finally answered. "She said the Blocks weren't social divisions. They were... filtering mechanisms. They were sorting students by psychological profile."
"For what?"
"For whatever comes after graduation."
I pressed further. "Did she say anything about the previous location? The facility that got relocated?"
Kaminari's expression shifted. Just slightly. "There was an accident. One of the students died."
The room felt colder.
"How?" Nomura demanded.
"Psychological breakdown. She jumped from a dormitory window. The official story was suicide. But my sister implied there was more to it. She said the program pushed students too far, and someone broke."
Anuyen looked sick. "And they just... moved the program to a new location?"
"And got a new director," I said. "One who's more cautious. Or at least better at hiding what he's doing."
I thought about Chapter 4—about how Saito had observed our reactions to threat. How he'd asked us to nominate ourselves or others for individual evaluation. How he'd deliberately created scenarios where we'd have to choose between self-preservation and group loyalty.
He's identifying psychological breaking points.
"Kaminari," I said carefully, "your sister—after she got her employment, did she ever come back?"
"Once. For official business. She interviewed new students."
My blood ran cold. "She's working for MSN?"
"She's working for whatever's behind MSN," Kaminari corrected.