May 1st, Morning.
Mamoru switched on his student terminal in the dormitory lobby and checked his deposited points.
"One hundred thousand points. No deductions."
The payout was the same as last month.
Apparently, skipping swimming class hadn't impacted his score.
(The number of cursed spirits inside the school has gone down, and I've got some points to spare. Maybe I can resume my outside work soon.)
Mamoru wasn't officially affiliated with Jujutsu Technical College. He took on missions arranged personally by his older brother, Gojo Satoru. For the time being, he'd been asked to focus on school security, but it was always meant to be temporary—just until things stabilized.
There was a constant shortage of sorcerers. The reason Mamoru had been entrusted with this job in the first place was because the school's ritual made it easy to come and go. He was expected to be able to handle missions outside while serving as a guard.
Even though his lifestyle had settled recently, Mamoru still saw himself as inexperienced and was frustrated by the lack of real combat experience in his current environment.
As he mulled this over, a 20cm-long centipede with human fingers scuttled across the floor in front of him.
(…I thought I'd already exorcised the dorm. Things were finally calming down, too.)
Feeling disheartened, he quickly exorcised the cursed spirit. Right then, the elevator in the lobby chimed, and Arisu stepped out.
"Good day, Mamoru."
"Ah, good morning."
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the two met up and left the dorm together.
There was no mention of the points from earlier. Both of them expected that the school would provide some sort of explanation today, so there was nothing pressing to discuss just yet.
"By the way, I went shopping with Masumi yesterday, and I suggested we go to karaoke to socialize. But she said, 'You can go to karaoke by yourself, right?' Don't you think that's awful?"
"I don't know if it's awful, but wait—Arisu-san, you like karaoke? That's surprising."
"It's not that I like it. I've just never been, so I was curious."
"Then why not invite some guys from other classes?"
"In that case, shouldn't I say, 'Let's go together'?"
"If you're treating me, I'll consider it."
Mamoru had become much more relaxed around Arisu over the past month.
"Oh come on, it's not very gentlemanly to let a woman pay."
"You don't have to be a gentleman."
"Well, then I guess I'll pay. But only if you sing a duet with Masumi—to the song I choose."
"You're just trying to mess with us. Is that really how you're supposed to enjoy karaoke?"
A duet between two people who weren't even that close was bound to be awkward. On top of that, Arisu's taste in songs was notoriously cursed.
And so, their idle chatter continued as they made their way to school.
When they arrived, the classroom was abuzz with noise.
"Hey, you two."
As soon as Mamoru sat down, Hashimoto came over and greeted him. After a quick exchange, he jumped right into the hot topic of the morning.
"Did you hear? Other classes got fewer points."
"Ah, so that's how it is."
Mamoru wasn't surprised. He had expected as much.
"You're pretty calm about it. Some people out there didn't get even a single point."
"What? Not even one?"
"That's... a bit surprising."
Both of them were naturally taken aback.
If, as Mashima had said at the entrance ceremony, points reflected a student's value, then zero points equated to being considered worthless.
And since it was confirmed that just observing a swim class wouldn't cause point deductions, the system clearly allowed for some leniency. So, what exactly had they done to deserve a zero?
"Yeah, when I saw my points this morning, I thought maybe I'd been wrong, but now I feel relieved. Seriously, Gojo saved us."
Following Hashimoto's comment, others chimed in:
"Yeah, same."
"Man, thank god I didn't do anything stupid."
"For real."
Some comments were harsher than others, but it was clear that everyone was genuinely relieved.
Just then, the bell rang. Students quickly took their seats, and a moment later, their homeroom teacher, Mashima, entered.
"Good morning. We've got a lot to go over today, and I'll leave time for questions at the end. First, take a look at this."
He posted a thick white sheet on the board. It listed each class, A through D, with numbers beside them:
Class A — 1000
Class B — 790
Class C — 540
Class D — 0
"I'm sure some of you have already guessed, but these numbers represent your class evaluations over the past month—commonly referred to as class points.
Some of you may have heard that other classes received fewer private points. Well, this is why.
Each class's point total determines the amount of private points each student receives."
No one seemed especially surprised.
Although Mashima said "some of you," most of the class already had this level of understanding.
"The points each student receives are called private points. One class point equals 100 private points. So, for example, Class B has 790 class points, meaning each student gets 79,000 points.
Any questions so far?"
He scanned the room.
(He's staring at me again...)
Though Mashima addressed the class as a whole, his eyes lingered on Mamoru.
Perhaps due to the incident on the first day of school, there was still a sense of tension.
Suddenly, Katsuragi raised his hand.
"Can you explain the criteria used to evaluate us?"
"Unfortunately, no. We don't disclose detailed evaluation metrics. This is true in society as well—most companies don't give a breakdown of performance reviews."
"I see. That's all."
"What I can say is this: your class's results are the best since the founding of the school.
To my knowledge, no class has ever maintained full points in their first month."
The students beamed with pride.
"Now, let's talk about what class points actually affect.
It's not just your pocket money. Class points determine your rankings."
The cheerful atmosphere vanished. Everyone had suspected as much.
The real question was—what were the penalties?
"Our school boasts some of the highest rates of advancement and employment in the country. But those benefits are reserved only for students who graduate from Class A."
Gasps, widened eyes, and hands over mouths rippled through the room.
(That's it?)
Mamoru was surprised, but for a different reason.
He'd expected something more extreme—like expulsion. For him, this was almost underwhelming.
"If the rankings were reversed and you were no longer Class A, you'd lose that benefit. Any questions?"
Mamoru no longer cared much. Without severe penalties, the competition lost its sting.
(Still, that doesn't mean expulsion is off the table...)
After all, the chairman had hinted at it. Even if dropping in rank didn't mean expulsion, it could be part of a larger process that led to it.
At that moment, Arisu raised her hand.
"Earlier, you said you couldn't disclose evaluation details. Does that also apply to how we can increase our points?"
"Good question. I can't reveal everything, since society expects people to think independently.
But there are a few things I can share."
Mashima paused to scan the class.
"First, many of you will join clubs. Outstanding achievements—like tournament results—can earn you both private and class points.
Second, for the upcoming midterm exams only, we'll award up to 100 class points based on your scores."
"So that's a one-time deal?"
"Correct. It's a reward for clearing the first major hurdle."
Mamoru frowned. Mashima's tone suggested there was more behind that "reward."
"Let's move on to explaining the midterms. Take a look at this."
He posted another sheet—this time listing Class A's quiz results.
"This is from the quiz we did recently. The average score was 82. Impressive work."
Mamoru had scored 85. The top score—100—belonged to Arisu Sakayanagi.
"If this quiz were the midterm, the failing score would be 41—half the average.
This time, no one failed, but if anyone does fail the actual midterm, they will be immediately expelled."
(There it is—expulsion.)
Mamoru was almost relieved to finally hear it.
Most students, however, were clearly shaken. Even those who had done well broke into cold sweat at the idea of making one mistake.
"It may sound harsh, but your education is publicly funded. We can't invest in students who produce no results.
On the flip side, those who do produce results will be rewarded. If you're afraid of punishment, then prove you're worth the investment."
It sounded cold, but Mamoru sensed that Mashima meant it as encouragement.
The mood in the room shifted slightly—tension giving way to renewed focus.
"That concludes the explanation. Any final questions?"
Once again, Mashima's gaze landed on Mamoru—not with suspicion this time, but with an almost expectant expression.
(Ah… Is this the right time to ask?)
Mamoru raised his hand.
"Gojo?"
"Yes. If a student is expelled, can that decision be reversed with points?"
Mashima nodded.
"Yes, it's possible—if the student hasn't engaged in serious misconduct like violence or bullying.
To revoke expulsion, you'd need 300 class points and 20 million private points."
"Thank you."
Mamoru gave a polite reply, but inwardly he clicked his tongue.
(There's no way I can count on that—not when class-level decisions are required.)
Convincing classmates to give up that many points for one person would be next to impossible.
In practice, if you're expelled, you're done.
"If there are no further questions, that concludes homeroom."
And so, the first homeroom of May came to a close.