"Then I'll get straight to the point. Why was I assigned to Class D? My entrance exam scores should've been excellent! Shouldn't I have been placed in Class A?"
"Why do you think so highly of yourself? Where does your confidence come from? Based on social skills alone, you're the worst in Class D! The class assignment result isn't wrong at all—because your ability only qualifies you to stay in Class D, a defective product!"
Horikita took half a step back and said coldly, "Regarding whether I'm suitable... I'll verify it with the school authorities myself."
"Go ahead." Chabashira scoffed, casually flipping open the roster on her desk. "But before that—" Her fingertip tapped heavily on a name. "Why not ask your impressive older brother? Horikita Manabu."
Chabashira's voice suddenly softened, yet it cut through the air like a dull blade. "In his first year, he gained the support of the vast majority of his classmates, becoming the first Student Council President in history to be elected as a first-year student." She suddenly slammed the roster in front of Horikita. "Now, you can't even touch the shadow of who he was back then."
The page that opened showed exactly the group photo of the Student Council executives, and Horikita Manabu stood in the center.
Akira noticed Horikita's breathing halt for a moment—her gaze at the photo seemed to want to burn a hole through that badge.
Chabashira suddenly relaxed her tense shoulders, a hint of disinterest in her tone. "But... you're not entirely without a chance to move up to Class A. As for the specific details—"
Her finger suddenly pointed at Akira, who had already reached the door. "Go ask him. After all, the rest of you thirty-nine people have genuinely paid for the information."
She waved her hand as if shooing away flies.
Akira had already stepped one foot out of the office—one million points had been securely pocketed, and he left decisively.
Urgent footsteps came from behind, and Horikita's figure quickly walked alongside him.
"You..."
"Let's talk as we walk."
The S-System's operational logic wasn't actually that complicated—when he first heard about this rule, the setting of "Baka and Test" immediately came to mind.
A similar class grading system, also allowing a competitive mechanism where lower ranks could overthrow higher ones.
But the key difference was that this school's criteria for evaluating students clearly weren't as simple as academic performance.
'What standards are used for class assignment?'
This question still lingered in his mind.
But from Chabashira's reprimand of Horikita just now, at least one thing could be confirmed—social skills held considerable weight in the school's evaluation system.
The phrase "the one with the worst social skills" was somewhat cruel.
Yet it unexpectedly revealed the operating principles of this school.
Here, a genius who excelled in one area but was a lone wolf might be judged as a "defective product" by the system.
'Come to think of it, maybe Class D isn't the class with the worst overall strength.'
"..."
After listening to Akira's information, Horikita's expression was grim, and she turned and left in silence.
She didn't even ask any questions—such as the crucial question of whether Class D still had a chance to be promoted to Class A through subsequent performance.
However, Akira completely understood her feelings—when she learned that her older brother, at the same age, had already led Class A to the top of the Student Council, such a disparity indeed required time to process.
'Yukinoshita Yukino also had an older sister she always wanted to catch up to.'
Still too similar.
'But then...'
His thoughts turned to the task Chabashira had given him.
Akira took out his phone, scrolled through his chat contacts, and finally paused between two names—Kushida Kikyo and Hirata Yosuke.
He'd already accepted the one million points, and since he'd accepted it, he had to do the job. This was equivalent exchange.
"Homeroom teacher, you're quite good at judging people..." Akira muttered to himself.
Chabashira saw very clearly that Class D was essentially maintained by these two people.
Kushida garnered popularity with her astonishing charisma, while Hirata united the class with his innate leadership abilities.
As long as the information flowed into their hands, it would spread throughout Class D within half a day.
Akira locked his phone, his knuckles gently stroking his chin.
Judging by the number of times she spoke, Kushida was undoubtedly the more suitable candidate.
The girl who always wore a sweet smile often proactively sought him out to discuss Horikita's matters.
She'd "check in" with him at least two or three times a day.
But deep down, she was a girl with a dual personality, and her way of de-stressing was to kick doors and curse people.
'In contrast...'
Hirata was almost dazzlingly upright.
As a guy, Akira certainly appreciated this kind of consistent character more.
But the way his expression instantly stiffened when he saw those two messages still made him frown as he recalled it.
A model student like Hirata, who excelled in both academics and character, shouldn't logically be in Class D—unless his file contained some unknown shadows, some fatal flaws that even his perfect facade couldn't hide.
After all, Chabashira had once said that all of Class D were defective products.
However, the most urgent thing at hand was to create an anonymous account.
He had to proceed cautiously—if the jealous classmates in Class D discovered his true identity, it would inevitably lead to unnecessary trouble.
Although Akira wasn't afraid of direct confrontation, it was better to avoid trouble.
What's more, with this account, he'd be able to conduct transactions with other classes without anyone knowing.
After much thought, establishing this behind-the-scenes alias account was absolutely imperative.
However, Akira quickly realized a problem—all student accounts were strictly tied to personal identity information.
That meant to be completely anonymous, he had to find a way to obtain another legal identity.
He directly contacted his homeroom teacher, Chabashira. "Sensei, does the school have any unlisted transaction accounts?"
Chabashira's reply was clear and concise. "No. All point transactions are monitored by the school authorities."
"As long as other students don't know, it doesn't matter if the school authorities know," Akira insisted.
Chabashira was silent for a moment, then sent a message. "You can open a second sub-account with your real ID. The fee is ten thousand points."
"Deal." Akira completed the transfer without hesitation.
Almost instantly, brand new account information was sent to his terminal.
Although still tied to his ID, this new account showed a zero balance—like a blank canvas, waiting for him to plan and execute.
So, to whom should he relay this information?