Chapter 3: Lesson One: DESTROY YOUR ENEMY COMPLETELY!

The classroom was unnervingly silent as Arata paused at the chalkboard, a half-formed title hanging in mid-air.

Instead of writing it, he turned and strode deliberately to the teacher’s desk.

With a slow, almost theatrical motion, he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Leaning back, he exhaled deeply before speaking in a measured, calm tone.

“By now, you all must have figured out why you were really expelled,” he began, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. After a pregnant pause, he leaned forward, his gaze sweeping over the nervous faces before him.

“It wasn’t because you tried to help,” Arata continued, his voice low but intense. “It was because of what you didn’t do, your failure was in not confronting the real problem.”

A tense shiver ran through the group. The three students shifted in their seats as if trying to escape the scrutiny in his eyes.

“You dreamed of saving your school’s students and even the local businesses struggling to survive,” he said, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “And you were brilliant at it—until you hesitated. You let fear stop you from challenging the true source of the chaos. You chose comfort over the hard, necessary choices.”

Ren opened his mouth to protest but the words caught in his throat.

The silence was thick, broken only when Arata rose and slowly walked to the window, his figure outlined against the fading light.

“You embraced manipulation as a tool,” he said, his tone hardening, “but when it was time to confront those who sowed disorder, you froze.

Have you been dozing off during Doutoku classes?” His voice sharpened into a reproach. “Doutoku isn’t about sitting back—it’s about struggle, sacrifice, and yes, even the pain of hard choices. Sometimes that means confronting, and if need be, destroying those who breed injustice.”

A hand shot up.

Hiroto’s voice was steady yet edged with curiosity. “But what does that have to do with Doutoku?”

Arata’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Everything. Every act done for the benefit of others falls under its banner—even when it benefits you. Now, tell me honestly—did you pocket any money from your little schemes? No, you did not.”

Kaede’s voice wavered as she ventured, “But aren’t we about to learn something that goes against Doutoku’s teachings?”

“Consider this,” Arata said, his tone shifting to something more instructional. “What you’re about to learn is how to wield a sword. A sword is a tool of violence—it may spill innocent blood or protect the innocent, depending solely on the hand that wields it. And that responsibility… falls on you four.”

A heavy silence blanketed the room before Arata continued, softer but no less piercing. “Your actions—even your selfish desires—have already shown me that when you manipulate events, you can steer them toward a greater good. You caught my attention because of that.”

Yet, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the faces before him. “But you’re still amateurs. Your emotions are your weakness, and I’m not only talking about Hiroto.” Stepping closer to him, Arata’s voice dropped. “Hiroto, why did you lose your temper when I told you I was behind your expulsion? You shouldn’t have been surprised—you got my invitation right after the letter. It was clear who was pulling the strings.”

Hiroto’s hands clenched the desk in response, his discomfort palpable.

“And Ren,” Arata continued, shifting his focus, “you don't charge into battles with strangers, and you never let your guard down—especially when you’re protecting someone.”

A pause.

“Protecting someone? Didn’t you see, Hiroto? Ren was trying to shield Kaede when the situation overwhelmed her.”

Kaede’s eyes went wide as she glanced at Ren.

He sat back, arms crossed, his expression cool but a faint blush betrayed him.

Arata’s tone grew teasing. “When subtlety failed, he got closer. Not to show off—but because he cared.”

Hiroto murmured under his breath, “He did it for her…” while Kaede looked away, her face a mixture of disbelief and something else unspoken.

Softening his tone slightly, Arata addressed her next. “And you, Kaede—learn to read a situation quickly. I’ll teach you to analyze and adapt in the blink of an eye. Always be prepared. Always be on guard.”

A quiet inner murmur drifted from Sayuri as she observed, So I was wrong…
.

Then Arata’s tone snapped back to acerbity. “And Nakamura, your social skills are nearly non-existent. How do you expect anyone to risk their life for you if you can’t even hold a basic conversation?”

Nakamura’s response was a hesitant, “I—I’ll figure it out,” the uncertainty in his voice evident.

Before anyone could retreat into their thoughts, Arata clapped his hands sharply, drawing every eye back to him. “These lessons and tasks are designed to forge you into what you need to be.”

He strode to the chalkboard and, with deliberate strokes, wrote in bold letters:

  Lesson One: DESTROY YOUR ENEMY COMPLETELY!

Each time he struck the board with the chalk, it punctuated his point, a reminder of the lesson’s brutal importance.

"Before we go to other lessons that are a bit more complex, you must start with the weakness you all share. As I said before, if you delt with your enemies, the people you wanted to protect would not need your help anymore. I get it, it's because of all the mangas and anime and movies that at the end, the hero always lets the villain go. I know you want to be heroes, but those are stories, they let the hero go so the story will have a sequel when the villain will ultimately return."

They all acknowledged the fact that what he was saying was the truth, that was really their weakness.

"That's why I want you to destroy these four teachers." Said Arata as he gave each one of them a folder containing pictures of teachers along with their with their personal informations and family pictures with their kids living a happy life."

Arata was not surprised when all of them reacted the same way.

They pushed the folder that was given to each one of them to edge and refused.

It was as Arata expected, and he handed them another folder of the same teachers.

The one that was handed to Ren contained photos of the teacher humiliating and bullying students.

The folder that was handed to Kaede contained photos of the same teacher touching and behaving innapropritsly towards many female students.

The folder that was handed to Hiroto contained photos of the teacher hitting students on the fieldtrack when they performed badly.

The folder that was handed to Nakamura showed teachers tempering with students grade so they would fail if they did not gave him money.

In order to ignite their respective emotions in incite them to do what he wanted them to do, Arata carefully selected which teachers each one of them would get.

"Now, what are you going to do? The teachers have families and kids and they live a happy life, can you destroy them? Or are you gonna save other students from these teachers, so it would never happen to them?"

Arata knew that it was going to be the most important of it all, he knew to destory someone completly wasn't an easy thing to do for people, and that was the part the previous students he recruited failed at.

As he left, the room fell into a charged silence.

The students stared down at the images of happiness tainted by cruelty, each forced to confront the impossible choice ahead—a choice that would define not only their future as warriors of justice but the very nature of who they were.

A long silence hung in the air until Ren broke it with a wry smile. “So, what now? I suppose it would’ve been easier if I hadn’t caught a glimpse of his family,” he joked, his tone light as if trying to defuse the tension.

Kaede’s eyes narrowed. “The answer is right there—but it’s maddeningly elusive.”

Hiroto leaned forward, his voice edged with disbelief. “Why would he ask us to do something like this? And… why did you call him Arata-sama? Do you know something about him?”

Ren’s smile broadened as he leaned back in his chair. “Believe it or not, Arata isn’t just anyone. He’s the new head of the Shinkai family—the same people behind the massive financial networks that bankroll most military weapons and high-tech manufacturing. They’re the ones who dole out loans to nearly every business in the country. If they pulled the plug, everything would collapse.”

Hiroto’s eyes widened. “How did you learn all that? I tried looking him up online, but there was nothing.”

Ren shrugged nonchalantly. “I had a friend hack into the school’s donation records. His name kept popping up, over and over. One lead led to another, and suddenly the whole picture was staring me in the face.”

Kaede, who’d already suspected Arata was a major player, but her curiosity took a sudden, personal turn. “Then why did you try to protect me?” she demanded.

Ren blinked, caught off guard. “What? I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb!” Kaede’s frustration bubbled over. “Why on earth did you move your desk next to mine last week?”

Ren’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “I really don’t remember doing that.”

Kaede’s voice rose, her anger slicing through the room. “All you’re saying is ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I don’t remember.’ Answer me, Ren!”

In a flash, Kaede sprang from her seat and swung her hand toward him like a hammer. Instinctively, Ren ducked and raised his hand to shield her from the sharp edge of the desk. As Kaede paused, realization flickered in her eyes when she noticed his protective gesture.

With a teasing lilt in his voice, Ren remarked, “Arata said not to show too much emotion.”

Her anger momentarily defused, Kaede crossed her arms. “Then explain yourself, please.”

Sighing, Ren relented. “Fine. It’s probably as dumb as it sounds, but when I saw you, I couldn’t help but think of someone I used to know. I’m sorry if that made things awkward.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Kaede replied, her tone softening even as she glared.

Ren gathered his things abruptly. “I’m starving. I’m off to grab something to eat.” Without waiting for a response, he slipped out the door.

With Ren gone, the tension morphed into something heavier.

They all knew that more students would suffer if they did nothing about the teachers, yet no one wanted to bring harm to the families involved.

Moments later, Ren returned. “So, have you made a decision?”

Hiroto’s voice was thick with resignation. “I can’t do it, Ren. I just can’t.”

Kaede’s tone was firm, her conviction clear. “If we destroy these teachers, their innocent kids will pay the price—and they deserve none of it.”

Ren frowned. “But why must we destroy them? Isn’t there another way?”

Hiroto shrugged, defeated. “Like what? I don’t know.”

Ren’s eyes hardened as he reflected. “I’ve come to realize that sparing our enemies is truly a weakness. I couldn’t have taken this step alone before, but now I feel like this is the push I needed. This test is about eradicating the hatred that’s poisoned our country, isn't it?”

Kaede’s gaze was steady. “So you’re really going to do it?”

Lowering his voice, Ren added, “Arata insists that we must root out hatred to heal our land. I truly believe that destroying our enemies is the only way forward.”

At that moment, Nakamura, who had been silently listening, suddenly stood. “This is all stupid,” he snapped before storming out, leaving the folder on his desk.

Hiroto and Kaede exchanged troubled glances.

Reluctantly, they left the folders and followed Nakamura out, each step heavy with the knowledge that, though they didn’t want to become executioners, refusing might cost them everything—even their place at school under Arata’s watchful eye.

Ren remained behind, staring out the window.

As he watched the world pass by, memories of his troubled past whispered in his mind.