In the early hours of the morning, a post appeared on the message board.
[Breaking News!
Seems like the rugby seniors aren't planning to go easy on the freshmen.
Rumor has it they took the selection match as a provocation, a declaration of war.
Word is, if they end up facing off, they won't hold back.
Since it all happens in a match anyway, rough physical clashes are a given, and they're even willing to commit dangerous fouls. ㄷㄷㄷ
Freshmen representing the team, take note.]
No one could tell whether the post was made by someone connected to the seniors or anonymously written by a second-year student.
However, the post soon triggered a significant stir as events unfolded.
"Bring it on!"
"Don't let them off easy!"
"Destroy them!"
That day, the second-years made a point of shouting at the top of their lungs during practice.
Freshmen moving from their dorms to the lecture halls couldn't help but glance their way.
Whoosh.
Crash—Snap! Roll.
"Aaagh!"
"Don't worry about the ball! Go for the player first!"
"Tackle him!"
"Push harder!"
It didn't matter who got knocked down.
Bang! Bam!
They went at each other as if trying to kill.
It was more of a brawl than a game.
'If I get picked as a freshman representative, do I have to fight like that too?'
Just the thought of it sent shivers down their spines.
Freshmen quickly shook their heads and hurried away.
But that wasn't the only problematic scene.
Not content with their day-and-night demonstrations of force disguised as training, they began to apply direct pressure on the freshmen.
One incident stood out.
It happened while Gary, a first-year, was sitting alone in the cafeteria, eating his meal.
Even though there were plenty of empty seats—
Thud.
A group of burly upperclassmen approached and deliberately took the seats on either side of Gary.
'What's going on?'
The situation was unbearably awkward.
Standing up to leave would make things even more uncomfortable.
So Gary had no choice but to keep his head down and focus on his food.
"...?"
Then, even more burly figures arrived, taking the seats directly across from him.
Now Gary was completely surrounded by these hulking figures.
As if that wasn't enough, the guys started blatantly talking about rugby.
They said things like how crashing into someone head-on was the best tactic.
Or how you had to hit them properly the first time to avoid any problems later.
They even shared stories about dangerous falls they'd had, adding that even if you got injured, a few weeks in the hospital would fix you up.
Although the conversation was clearly among themselves—
"..."
Gary, the innocent bystander, couldn't help but feel immense pressure.
Reporting them to the school? It would only backfire with something like, "Can't we have a conversation among ourselves? Are we responsible for what others misunderstand?"
Gary would end up looking like the unreasonable one.
Huff.
Better to eat quickly and get out of there.
Even as Gary hurriedly left his seat—
"He didn't even finish half his meal."
"Such a coward."
"Pfft."
Sharp jeers and mocking laughter followed him as he walked away.
Gary wasn't the only target.
"Are you James?"
Seniors approached another freshman, cutting him off mid-stride on the school grounds.
"W-Why are you asking?"
"Are you James or not?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Doesn't seem like it."
"W-What do you mean…?"
One of the seniors, a full head taller than James, glared down at him. His face carried the kind of menace that made it seem like a slap was just one wrong word away.
Naturally, James had no choice but to avert his gaze.
"You're that guy who got seriously hurt playing rugby, right?"
"H-Hurt?"
"Yeah, heard you busted your leg and spent ages in the hospital."
"..."
At this point, it was clear what was happening.
"Must've mistaken you for someone else."
"Y-Yes, I think so too."
"Strange. That shouldn't be the case. Weird, huh?"
The grin that followed was a blatant warning.
"I-I'll be going now."
Even as James quickly walked away, he could feel the malicious glares burning into the back of his head.
***
That afternoon, perhaps because rumors about the second-years had spread widely…
Even though it was a physical education class, most students who would normally jump at the chance to play rugby had disappeared.
And for good reason.
Even from afar, the sight of several hulking second-years perched on the benches, glaring daggers at the field, was enough to dissuade anyone.
It was common knowledge that getting on the second-years' bad side would make school life miserable.
So, not only did students avoid playing rugby, but they wouldn't even go near the rugby field.
In the end, it was just me, Jack, and Peter left standing.
Unable to hold back, Jack spoke up.
"Should I go chase those guys off?"
"Who?"
"The second-years over there."
Oh boy.
"Give me a minute, and they'll be gone."
"And risk getting called in front of the disciplinary committee again?"
"So what if I do?"
"Then you'll be banned from the rugby match."
"That can't happen!"
Jack shook his head vigorously, horrified at the thought.
In contrast, Peter coldly analyzed the situation.
"That post from yesterday—it was from the second-years' dorm IP, just as I thought."
"..."
"So it's clear they're deliberately trying to sabotage us."
Peter bit his lower lip before continuing.
"If they didn't want to compete, they could've just cleanly declined the selection match. Instead, they're going out of their way to threaten and obstruct us? They've got to have some kind of ulterior motive."
Ulterior motive, huh.
'Isn't it obvious?'
They were probably venting their frustration through petty revenge after everything they'd gone through.
"What should we do?"
At Peter's question, I replied calmly.
"Just leave them be."
"What?"
"This is all part of the story. It'll give us a good justification later."
"Story? Justification?"
Peter's expression made it clear he had no idea what I was talking about.
I smirked.
They'd all understand in a few days.
Turning to Jack, I said, "Let's just get back to training."
***
Two days later.
It was the day magazines were delivered to the school.
Perhaps because of that, students flocked to grab their copies, no one wanting to miss out.
After devouring issues of Dragon Ball and Capsulemon, they returned to the beginning of the magazine to read it more thoroughly.
For those who'd mastered speed reading, flipping through the pages quickly was a given.
One of them suddenly shouted as if he'd uncovered some monumental discovery.
"This is insane! Absolutely insane!"
"What is?"
"Page 41!"
His over-the-top reaction made everyone flip to the page in question.
If it turned out to be nothing, he'd deserve a tongue-lashing…
Though many wore skeptical expressions,
"...!"
the moment everyone flipped to page 41—
"Whoa—ah!"
They all reacted the same way, as if on cue.
The reason was simple.
The page revealed that Queensman had announced an in-depth feature on the freshman rugby team!
"They're running a series every week?"
"Where does it say that?"
"Look at the bottom. They'll be covering everything, from training to the actual matches. It's going to run for several weeks!"
"Where?"
"Down there! At the very bottom!"
"Wow, you're right!"
And that wasn't all.
It also mentioned that Ultimate would be providing custom uniforms for all the freshmen participating in the selection match!
"This is insane!"
The excitement spread like wildfire.
Their eyes moved eagerly to the next page, where the magazine declared that while Queensman was currently exclusive to the Royal School, future issues would be distributed to every school in the country!
"Ohhh!"
Up until now, being featured in the magazine meant being a local school celebrity at best.
But if it was distributed nationwide?
That would mean the chance to become a national sensation—a true celebrity.
Even those who rarely used their brains seemed to be calculating the possibilities quickly now.
"If they're distributing nationwide and doing a feature on the freshmen…"
"This is basically an invitation to become a star!"
Of course, there were voices of concern as well.
"Do you think the second-years are going to let that slide?"
"Exactly. They're already subtly threatening us. If we show off in the magazine, how are we supposed to deal with the aftermath…?"
A counterargument quickly shot back.
"You worry too much."
"...?"
"The reporters are going to visit the school, right? You think they'll stay quiet if they witness the second-years causing trouble?"
"You're saying they'd write about that too?"
"Obviously!"
"That would put pressure on the second-years."
"Yeah. They won't want their bad behavior immortalized in print. It's not going to be easy for them to act out now."
***
People are driven by two forces: desire and fear.
True masters inspire desire by making others aware of their inadequacies, while amateurs resort to intimidation, stoking fear openly.
Carl Bernstein was a textbook amateur.
I heard he also distributed a magazine around the school today, but—look at that.
Not a single person had bothered to bring a copy.
'Lacking confidence in being loved, he's resorted to wielding power to force compliance.'
Pathetic.
While I mulled over these thoughts—
"When's our next P.E. class?"
"Who do I talk to about joining the first-year team?"
"You think just talking is enough? You'll need to audition."
The freshmen continued chattering excitedly about the team.
***
At the same time, in the staff room.
Devon, flipping through the Queensman magazine, was excited in an entirely different way.
"Wow—oh!"
What caught his eye was a single line of text:
'They're re-releasing all their clothes in big sizes?'
Ohhh!
The launch was scheduled for this weekend.
Being single and with no other plans, it was perfect timing.
Devon grinned with happiness for a moment.
It felt as if the world outside the window was inexplicably more lovable, almost as if he'd had a drink.
In high spirits, he picked up another magazine.
He had grabbed it on his way over, as it was being distributed for free.
'I'm not expecting it to be as good as Queensman, but even half as good would be nice.'
With that thought, he started flipping through the pages.
He was optimistic that he could enjoy it regardless.
But for some reason—
Thunk.
Sleepiness started to overtake him.
Although it was a professional publication, with decent content and polished writing, that was all it had going for it.
It was the kind of magazine you'd find scattered on a shelf at any bookstore.
If Queensman focused all its content under a single, cohesive theme, this magazine felt like a haphazard collection of random topics thrown together to grab attention.
Why waste precious time on this?
Devon yawned and tossed the magazine aside.
That's when he heard an unfamiliar voice from behind him.
"Sir."
Turning around, he saw Carl Bernstein standing there, his face impassive.
"I came regarding the proposal made by Ji-hoon Park."
"Oh, that thing? It was in the magazine too."
"..."
"Are you on board with it?"
Carl responded with a cryptic smile.
"No."
"Huh? It's going to make headlines nationwide. Don't tell me you're scared?"
"Not at all."
"Then why not?"
"I fear it might distort the true value of rugby."
"...?"
"Dividing teams by grade and picking a winner goes against the spirit of rugby."
"The spirit of rugby?"
"Unity and integration are values far greater than victory."
Devon's expression seemed to ask if Carl had just come from the UN.
But no amount of skepticism altered Carl's stance.
"If advancing to the national competition is truly that important, we're willing to relinquish the entry rights to the first-years."
"This isn't about what was published in the magazine, is it?"
"Of course not. Not at all."
"But you do know about it, don't you? Otherwise, why respond?"
Carl hesitated briefly, his expression contemplative.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"What?"
"You look pale."
"..."
"Anyway, you can go now. I've got it."
At Devon's words, Carl simply pressed his lips together tightly and said nothing more.