"Go on, then. This so-called 'deal' of yours."
Sitting rudely atop someone's desk—whoever it belonged to—Ryūen Kakeru crossed one leg over the other and spread his hands toward Asakusa Tōru. "If you can't come up with anything interesting, I'm not refunding that 'deposit.'"
A single recorder wasn't cheap. Even with a hundred thousand points deposited every month, it wasn't something you could just throw around casually.
Besides, from the very beginning, Ryūen Kakeru had never believed that the monthly hundred thousand points would remain stable forever.
"Free tuition, a 100% advancement and employment rate, a hundred thousand personal points every month…"
Asakusa Tōru didn't get straight to the point. Instead, he threw a question back at him.
"Ryūen, do you really think you deserve that?"
But before Ryūen Kakeru could answer, Asakusa Tōru answered for him.
"No. You don't."
"You don't deserve jack shit," he said.
"Someone like you, who only relies on lowlife tactics and violence to get things done—you don't deserve a damn thing."
"…Are you provoking me?" Ryūen Kakeru uncrossed his legs, a vicious glint appearing in his eyes.
Asakusa Tōru spread his hands. "I'm just stating facts. Forget you—there are barely any people in this school who can rightfully claim to deserve that kind of treatment."
"If you think about it even a little, you should be able to tell how wrong it feels."
"It's only because there's a 'government' backing it that most people's doubts turn into blind trust. 'Maybe the government saw some talent in me that I can't see myself,' or 'I don't think I'm that special, but hey, if something this good falls into my lap, I'll take it first and think later.'"
Ryūen Kakeru raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm here to tell you the truth about this school."
Asakusa Tōru grinned.
"And in exchange, you'll agree to two conditions."
Ryūen Kakeru: "Say them."
"First," Asakusa Tōru raised his index finger, then waved it casually, "I'm really sick of slimy snakes. Your tactics and strategies are your own business, but don't let them rub off on me."
"Exterminating pests isn't impossible, but when I thought about it, it sounded like a hassle. And honestly, aside from the slimy-snake part, you're actually not bad—just a shame you're a guy."
Otherwise, who knows—you might've even qualified for a heroine slot.
Though, judging by Ryūen's screen time in the original work, he almost felt more like a protagonist than the actual heroines.
"Don't disgust me," Ryūen Kakeru made a face like he was about to throw up. "I'll kill you."
Shrugging, Asakusa Tōru raised a second finger.
"Second. Pick one of three: pay up, let me bleed you dry, or be my tool."
"First option—two million points. Flat price. I don't care whether you squeeze it out of your classmates or get it some other way. I just want the money."
Ignoring the look on Ryūen Kakeru's face that screamed I'm about to curse you out, Asakusa Tōru continued.
"Second option—profit sharing. Not much. Just 25%. I'll keep bleeding you dry."
"Of course, you probably don't understand what that means yet, so I'll give you a piece of intel in advance."
"You've probably been wondering about the 'monthly' 'hundred thousand points,' right?"
Asakusa Tōru paused.
"You're right. That number isn't fixed."
"As for how it changes exactly, I'll explain later. What you need to know now is this—if you choose to let me bleed you dry, then from now on, 25% of all income earned by Class C goes to me."
"Are you insane?" Ryūen Kakeru finally couldn't hold back and cut him off.
"Relax," Asakusa Tōru smiled. "I'm not done with the conditions yet."
"Only 25% of the points changed through the intel I provide. When you think about it that way, doesn't it sound like a pretty good deal?"
He spread his hands.
"After all, without me, you wouldn't be able to change anything in the first place. Right?"
Truth be told, Asakusa Tōru had hesitated a bit over whether to even offer this option to Ryūen.
Not because the cut was too small—but because what counted as a "change" was actually very hard to define.
If the special exam on "basic student aptitude" that started the moment of enrollment had been an additive scoring system, it would've been easier. Unfortunately, it was a deduction-based system.
There was no precise standard to determine how many "class points" Class C could gain through his intel.
Even so, he still presented the option.
Because Asakusa Tōru knew very well—
Ryūen would never choose it.
"Rejected. Get to the last one already." Ryūen urged impatiently, without the slightest hesitation.
"See? There you go, getting impatient again."
Ryūen's reaction was exactly as expected. The predictable outcome lifted Asakusa Tōru's mood noticeably.
He glanced at the clock—it was almost time for the entrance ceremony.
"Third option," he said. "Be my tool. I tell you what to do, you follow orders. No asking why. No questioning."
"But only once."
"Pretty generous terms, don't you think?"
As he finished speaking, Asakusa Tōru glanced at Sakagami Kazuma, who had begun paying close attention to the time.
The timing of this negotiation with Ryūen was terrible—more precisely, it was terrible for Sakagami Kazuma, the homeroom teacher.
As students, Asakusa Tōru and Ryūen could skip the entrance ceremony if they wanted. Outside of students who hadn't yet entered society, almost no one actually cared whether you attended such things.
If they didn't go, it'd amount to a few scoldings at most, maybe a small deduction in class points.
But if Sakagami Kazuma, the homeroom teacher, skipped it—
The consequences would likely be much more severe.
At the very least, a harsh verbal dressing-down from his superiors was unavoidable.
That was why he kept checking the time so frequently.
And yet, he couldn't interrupt the negotiation between Asakusa Tōru and Ryūen, nor could he simply leave early for the ceremony.
The reason was simple.
Sakagami Kazuma judged that this deal would have an unimaginable impact on Class C's future. He had to be present.
If he could receive the school's rules in full from Asakusa Tōru, gain that knowledge from day one, and combine it with Ryūen's leadership—already established on the first day—
Class 1-C wasn't without a chance of climbing to Class A.
The only real concern left… was Asakusa Tōru's identity.
That, more than anything else, was what he couldn't figure out.
Class 1-B.
If this student truly understood the nature of the school, the truth behind classes and points—why was he doing something that looked so much like supporting Class C?
Wasn't he afraid that Class C would climb up and drag Class B down?
Sakagami Kazuma couldn't make sense of it.
"..."
Glancing at the time again, listening to the series of loophole-ridden—borderline non-conditions—that Asakusa Tōru had laid out, Sakagami Kazuma almost couldn't stop himself from speaking up to remind Ryūen.
Just don't pick the points option.
Honestly, any of the others would do.
After all—
He could always play favorites.