Thunderous applause, cheers everywhere—between the clapping, the shouting, and all the "I'm buying you lunch!" promises flying around, Ishizaki got so hyped he practically lit up.
He hadn't expected his one action to earn that much praise. His whole face was glowing red—not from embarrassment, but from sheer excitement.
Truth was, Ishizaki didn't even understand just how difficult the final question of this exam could be for some people.
Under normal circumstances, "sacrifice one person to gain Class Points" was something certain self-proclaimed elites could accept without blinking.
Because if you see yourself as elite, you assume you won't be the one sacrificed.
If it won't hurt you personally, then it's zero risk, high reward.
And in real life, if something really looked like zero risk but high reward, plenty of people couldn't stop themselves from being tempted.
But for students who didn't see themselves as exceptional… it was terrifying.
Because they could easily be the one the class throws away.
And if you're the one expelled, then it doesn't matter how many Class Points the class gains afterward.
You're gone. Even if the class gained ten thousand, a hundred thousand, or a million Class Points tomorrow—none of it benefits you anymore.
For them, it's high risk, zero reward.
Who wouldn't be scared?
Yukio's class had both kinds of people.
Even Kaneda—the top student—couldn't help feeling a tug of temptation at a zero-risk, high-reward option like that.
Meanwhile, students who weren't outstanding academically or physically were sweating bullets, terrified of being the one cut loose.
That's why, with an interrogate human nature question like this, the best clear is exactly what they did: first-round unanimity, no discussion, a clean unanimous Disagree.
Because it's better not to test human nature in the first place.
That was why everyone had been praising Ishizaki so hard: his vote helped them avoid that moral torture entirely and reach the best outcome instantly.
Even Kaneda let out a breath of relief, staring at Ishizaki like he'd just discovered a new species.
"Damn… what were you thinking?"
"I almost thought you were still going to vote differently from Yukio-bro."
"Ishizaki… I guess I really underestimated you. After a year, you've grown into someone impressive."
"Huh?" Ishizaki, riding pure adrenaline, blinked stupidly. "What are you talking about, Kaneda?"
"I was going to vote differently from Yukio-bro."
"I told you—I'm voting Disagree every time. Doesn't matter what the question is."
The classroom—still roaring with applause just moments ago—instantly fell dead silent.
Even Sakagami, who'd been looking so proud he was practically ready to jump and cheer, froze. The proctor beside him also stiffened, eyes wide.
The whole room looked like a video buffering mid-frame.
"…Huh?" Kaneda's face twitched. "Wait—are you saying you didn't think about that question at all?"
"You just voted Disagree because you promised Yukio-bro yesterday?"
"Yeah. What else?" Ishizaki asked, utterly sincere, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
That single innocent question almost choked Kaneda.
Holy hell… so I just praised you for nothing.
Kaneda replayed his own words—I underestimated you, you've grown into someone impressive—and his face cycled between purple and green.
He looked like he'd swallowed something poisonous.
The rest of the class felt like something got lodged in their chest too—like a roaring flood had been building, only for a giant dam to drop from the sky and block it mid-rush.
That stuck, suffocating frustration turned the whole room into low pressure.
"I knew it! Ishizaki isn't that smart! There's no way he thought that far!"
"Ishizaki—your luxury seafood set is canceled!"
"Hahaha, I can't believe we got fooled… but this is the Ishizaki I know!"
"Huh?! Why?!" Ishizaki still didn't get it. How did a cooked duck—no, wait—how did a reserved luxury seafood set fly away?!
And why did the class's attitude flip on him so violently?!
"Pfft—" Yukio finally understood and laughed out loud. "It's fine, Ishizaki. Lunch is on me today."
"Yes!" Ishizaki instantly brightened again. He didn't care what anyone else said—if his boss was paying, then he was eating big.
That made everyone crack up again, and the earlier stuck low-pressure mood warmed back up into laughter.
Even the proctor couldn't help sighing with envy.
"Sakagami-sensei… your class is incredible. I'm honestly jealous."
It wasn't flattery. It was genuine.
Sakagami could tell, too. His grin never stopped—because seriously, what teacher wouldn't want a class like this?
Still, habit and humility made him wave it off.
"Ah, you're exaggerating. These brats still have weaknesses. They've got plenty left to learn."
After a couple more words, Sakagami finally addressed the whole room.
"Alright. Our class's Unanimous special exam is officially over!"
"The five questions you voted unanimously Agree on will be recorded by the school and implemented."
"And now—you're dismissed early!"
That line alone triggered another tidal wave of cheering.
"Amazing! Sakagami-sensei, I love you!"
"Hahaha! I thought it'd be brutal, but it ended in under an hour! It's only 10 a.m. and we're already out—today's gonna be awesome!"
"Let's go! Back to the dorms—queue up, we're gaming!"
Of course.
For students, the most beautiful word in the world might be dismissed.
Peak happiness. The holy sound you hear in the middle of drowning in schoolwork—and you can't help smiling the moment it hits your ears.
Ishizaki was already bouncing.
He leaned in close. "Yukio-bro! Going to the cafeteria now—too early, right? Wanna go mess around somewhere first?"
"No." Yukio shook his head. His expression slowly turned complicated. "I want to go check the other classes."
Unanimous—especially that last question, the one that tested human nature…
His class was lucky enough to clear it cleanly.
But for the other three classes, it could easily become a nightmare.
If he didn't go look, he wouldn't be able to relax.