In this white room, there was no one who could defeat him.
Unlike the other children of his generation, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka had lived the first fourteen years of his life with this unshakable belief.
Day after day, during the relentless mechanical training, the others gradually collapsed under the weight of fear and uncertainty for the future.
But not Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
Even as the number of classmates around him dwindled, the look in his eyes never changed.
In the end, most human fear and anxiety stem from unpredictability—just like how one wouldn't scream watching a horror movie they've seen dozens of times. Once the mechanisms are understood and enough experience is accumulated, the brain naturally forms a method of processing.
What actions would earn him first place today? What behaviors could prevent being overtaken by others? After contemplating the answers and putting them into action, Ayanokouji steadily rose above the rest.
Curiosity and competitiveness—
These were the only two emotions permitted in the White Room, and they became the foundation of Ayanokouji's personality, driving him toward the ideal success case.
Everything else was unnecessary.
All kinds of information and knowledge were stuffed into his brain.
Websites and message boards filled with venting and suicidal ideation—he read them but felt nothing.
Forums for exhibitionists and crossdressers—he didn't understand the appeal, but logged the information away.
Sites littered with bloody crime scene photos and corpses—he browsed them thoroughly, even taking time to identify the causes of death.
By the time all the other children had dropped out, leaving only him, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka knew he had become the final, successful product.
The data he produced not only surpassed all previous test subjects from the first three generations, but also set records that those in later batches would struggle to exceed.
His absolute confidence came from the education he received in the White Room.
No matter how many children were put through the same regimen, none reached his level.
But he was also painfully aware:
There are people in this world better than me. After all, there are over seven billion humans on this planet. But in the White Room...
No one is better than me.
That belief was shattered on one particular day.
A boy from outside the White Room—a peer named Kitagawa Ryo—had effortlessly defeated him in a game of chess.
Kiyotaka himself wasn't particularly discouraged by the result, but his father viewed it differently.
His father's reaction reminded him of a phrase he had read in a book as a child:
To prove a machine is not perfect, you don't need to examine every function. Just point out a single flaw.
Kitagawa Ryo didn't need to be better than Ayanokouji in every aspect. That one loss in chess was enough to prove Kiyotaka wasn't the flawless specimen.
After that incident, his daily training changed.
The lessons became more chaotic. The intensity of physical and skill training drastically increased.
Within just six months, Kiyotaka experienced a level of exhaustion he hadn't felt in over a decade.
"..."
He didn't know why the man in front of him had come. Nor did he intend to address him as "father," even though their blood relation and official records said otherwise.
Judging by the man's attire, it must be winter. It was difficult to tell the seasons inside the White Room, where the outside sky was never seen. Time and seasonal awareness faded with each repetitive day.
"Next week, you'll enter Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School during their cultural festival."
His father's gaze was sharp like a blade.
"Your objective is to gather every piece of information that might be useful before your formal enrollment one year from now."
Though he had already gathered extensive intel on the school through graduate interviews, his father wouldn't hand it to him.
For the sake of the wager a year later, he wanted to once more test Kiyotaka's capabilities.
"Understood."
Kiyotaka nodded, expressionless.
To him, this was just another slightly novel test—another challenge from the White Room in a new setting.
-------------------------------------
"It's snowing."
Kitagawa Ryo looked up, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. The sudden gust of northerly wind struck his face like a blade, slicing and stinging as it passed. The few withered leaves still clinging to the roadside trees were shredded by the same fierce wind.
Snowflakes began to fall from the heavy, gloomy sky.
Hotaru crawled from his hood and nestled into his scarf. Half a year had passed, but the little cat hadn't grown at all—still kitten-sized. It looked like his shoulder would remain its perch for a long while.
The pedestrian signal turned green. Ryo pressed Hotaru back gently into the folds of his scarf and headed home.
Not much stood out over the past six months. Other than the successful staging of the adapted version of Cats, rewritten by him and Karuizawa Kei, there wasn't much to mention.
Everyone was walking steadily down their chosen paths.
Sakura Airi's idol career continued to rise. Her popularity kept climbing, and the limited edition support shirts from half a year ago had already skyrocketed to 30,000 yen per piece. Even Ryo was surprised.
Karuizawa Kei expanded her acting range. After several performances, professional critics began praising her for stepping out from the shadow of a genius. She still visited Ryo's place frequently—Hotaru's room was practically hers now.
Ichinose Honami had finally reclaimed her position as student council president. With the theft incident behind her, she would spend her third year of junior high in full. She'd left behind that half-year of isolation. Her evaluation at Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School would no doubt improve. Assuming normal placement, she'd surely be sorted into Class A.
Horikita Suzune had also started expanding her social circle. Thanks to the Cats production, she began mingling with other drama club members. Though progress was slow, Ryo could see her growth. If she overcame this weakness, she too would be a Class A candidate without question.
But Ryo knew things wouldn't be so simple this time.
The news ticker on a nearby building played silently as snowflakes melted on his face.
The next cohort set to enter Advanced Nurturing High School in a year had essentially become a pre-built battlefield.
The supposed showdown was between him and Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, but the forces behind them were far more complicated.
In short, they both needed to defeat each other to prove their respective successes.
Unlike the version of Kiyotaka who ran away from the White Room in the second simulation—seeking refuge in the school—this time, it was a Kiyotaka who had come with an assignment.
Ryo wasn't sure whether a Kiyotaka unburdened by trauma would be stronger or not.
He was cautious but not pessimistic.
In Honami's third simulation, Ryo had experienced the White Room's training through text-based descriptions. Even that left a deep impression.
He also remembered how ruthless Kiyotaka had been in Kei's second simulation. Like Sakayanagi Arisu, Ryo instinctively disliked the idea behind the White Room.
But while Arisu aimed to crush the White Room to prove genius couldn't be manufactured, Ryo simply believed such a facility shouldn't exist. The idea of cultivating brilliance was fine—but not with such methods.
Looking at Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the so-called successful product, he seemed less a genius and more a high-performing machine.
"I'm home."
Before he realized it, Ryo had arrived. He pulled out his keys, opened the door, and spoke out of habit.
"Mm, welcome back."
Horikita Suzune glanced up from her script with a halfhearted reply. With the school festival just a week away, her confidence had turned into nervous repetition.
This was also why Ryo hadn't started the next simulation. He didn't want to risk upsetting reality before Suzune's event. If something went wrong in Sakayanagi's simulation, it might even bleed into the real world.
Speaking of changes to reality, his golden talent [Heir of Prestige]—unlocked after the last simulation—still hadn't triggered anything.
Unlike in the simulation, in reality Ryo hadn't been placed into the Sakayanagi family.
If he suddenly gained a sister named Sakayanagi Arisu, Hotaru definitely wouldn't be pleased.
But a thought struck him.
If [Heir of Prestige] did activate... wouldn't that mean he and Hotaru weren't biologically related?
As Ryo drifted into a tangle of thoughts, Suzune brought out the food she'd cooked.
Whenever she visited, she usually cooked a meal.
"How'd it go?"
"Fine. Caught it in time. I managed to stabilize them beforehand. If not, they'd be brain-dead."
"So your years at Massachusetts General weren't wasted."
"Just happened to be there. It was a life on the line."
Ryo pulled the tom yum soup closer. Winter called for hot, hearty stew.
Today he had only gone to another school's drama club for an exchange. But by coincidence, he came across a student about to jump. His purple talent [Physician] kicked in, and he managed to save them on the spot.
"Meow."
Hotaru purred lazily at his feet.
All in all, it hadn't been a bad day.
Watching the snow flutter outside, Ryo raised a spoonful of steaming broth to his lips.
To his relief, Suzune hadn't added cilantro to his portion.
A small but welcome victory.
-------------------------------------
"This is a gift of 5,000 personal points from Advanced Nurturing High School. One point equals one yen. You can use them to shop at the festival stalls. Since they can't be exchanged for cash afterward, do your best to spend it all."
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka recalled the school staff member's explanation as he looked at his phone. The mechanical-style display showed exactly [5000] in the center.
"One cotton candy, please."
He spoke to a nearby vendor. The man didn't seem fazed by Kiyotaka's indifferent tone and happily took a ready-made cotton candy from the stand, then offered the card reader.
With a beep, the screen changed: 5000 became 4820.
So these points really do have purchasing power in this school.
Kiyotaka pondered while eating.
From how smoothly students used their phones to pay, it was clear this wasn't new to them. Points must be their standard currency on campus. He'd also seen shops and convenience stores within the school grounds.
If points were equivalent to real-world money, then where did they come from?
Academics seemed like the first answer. He'd read about schools that awarded money based on class rankings.
He shelved the thought for now and continued investigating.
"Renting this prime spot really paid off. Look at all the kids swarming in."
"Yeah, yeah! If this keeps up, hitting the top four and scoring 100 class points should be no problem."
He overheard two nearby students.
"Class points"—another keyword.
Unlike personal points, these were earned collectively. Judging by their excitement, "100" must be a significant amount. If class points held the same monetary value, then the exchange rate was likely different. One to ten? One to a hundred?
Finishing his cotton candy, Kiyotaka decided to retrace his steps. The stalls inside the special building were too formal and harder to extract information from compared to the outdoor booths.
As he neared the school gate again, he spotted someone.
His pupils shrank. He stepped back and slipped behind a tree.
He'd seen that face in the files.
Kitagawa Ryo.
-------------------------------------
"Suzune's Speedrun: Festival Edition, go!"
"To stay authentic, I recommend not changing a single line."
Ryo stood beside Horikita Suzune, twirling his hair with one hand and dramatically quoting lines:
"Even I have things I want to choose for myself."
"I really do like who I am now."
Suzune tilted her head, shooting a sharp look from beneath her bangs before her expression softened.
"Quit it, Ryo."
"Fine."
He clapped his hands and dropped the act.
"Seriously though, no need to stress. That guy's just a messed-up siscon, and he's depending on you this time."
"I think you're a siscon too."
Suzune sighed, but his antics helped calm her nerves.
With renewed resolve, she walked up to the goldfish scooping booth.
The vendor, unaware of the storm coming, cheerfully handed her the paper scoops.
Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—
Today, I'll clear this in one go—
Splash!
A goldfish's tail sent water flying straight onto Suzune's face.