Chapter 22:

Black Market

Why I Write


On the walk back to school, I decided to revisit the current parameters that had been set for this special project.

First of all, I had 176,660 points, taking into account the 10,000 deduction and 600 I’d spent at the cafeteria.

That point value meant that no matter what, I had to achieve the following:

1. Get 39th place or higher.

2. If getting 40th place was unavoidable, I had to find a way to increase my point balance above 200,000.

3. Not get a score of (-39).

The third goal was practically impossible to fail.

Even if I accepted my fate and did nothing to improve my situation, I reckoned Sakura Emi’s objective was to make my expulsion look like a product of natural selection rather than manipulation—facade or not, her modus operandi was clearly that of innocence. She probably wouldn’t cast a deplorable vote on anyone given the persons you voted for were made public.

Furthermore, that assumption didn’t have to end at just Sakura Emi. Even for an average student, casting a deplorable vote in an exercise like this would have negative long term effects on your reputation—unless the person you'd voted for was openly despicable, most people wouldn't look kindly on trying to get another student expelled in such a transparent manner. Not to mention, open aggression would also be met by the risk of being targeted yourself.

Thus, based on social politics, you could surmise most people would opt to cast 2 exemplary votes as their way of fulfilling the minimum criteria.

Getting 39 deplorable votes would be an impossibility.

Sadly, you didn’t need anywhere close to that amount to get 40th place—even 1 or 2 could do it.

Only incompetent students would cast deplorable votes flippantly, which is precisely why those few random votes were key to deciding the bottom ranks.

After all, there were only 80 exemplary votes in total.

40 for the boys, 40 for the girls.

A maximum of 39 per student.

If we were going by averages, this meant each student would receive 2 exemplary votes in a complete vacuum. The financial state of Class F also meant we were more likely to try and avoid point penalties rather than aim for the top prizes, so most people would settle for vote swaps as a means of protection instead of lobbying others to vote them into the top 10. What this would accomplish would be pushing scores closer to the mean rather than having many outlier results.

Therefore, you could expect a huge clump of people around the (0) to (+2) range, depending on whether they managed to find vote swapping partners and how big their friend groups were.

For someone like me who would be at (-4) at the bare minimum based on how Sakura Emi had triggered every incompetent boy at once—this would be very inconvenient.

(-4) compared to people with baseline scores of (0).

A huge disadvantage.

And (-4) was the floor. Realistically, I could expect my score to go even lower. The 4 votes I’d singled out belonged to boys who’d outwardly shown themselves to have no hope of cutting it in Kitazawa High long-term—if it turned out there were also others who were ‘quietly incompetent’ and decided to randomly toss out deplorable votes as well, then my score could very well end up closer to (-10).

There were also a multitude of other factors that would turn this into a dissertation, which is not my intention. I understand this explanation has ran long enough. In the end, most of these unsaid factors are either very minor or completely out of my control.

And so.

With all that in mind.

I decided I’d consolidate information first before coming up with a plan of attack.

First and foremost, I needed to evaluate the other 39 students and sort them into three different baskets. This would affect my approach.

Basket A would contain potential scapegoats—male students who I could use to draw deplorable votes away from me, like the group of four idiots which included Yamada Junpei.

Basket B would be those willing to vote in my favour if I played my cards right, like Mino Ruri.

Basket C would be the dangerous students, like Sakura Emi.

The biggest and most important of these baskets would be Basket B. In order to survive, it would mostly depend on how well I could negotiate with those students—how many swaps I could promise, how many votes I could buy, how many people I could extort due to their finances, et cetera. 

Therefore, I had to focus carefully on my evaluations of those in that basket. I couldn't afford to generalise or assume, and figuring out what each individual wanted in order to cast a vote in my favour would be essential.

As for Baskets A and C, the evaluations didn't need to take so long. After all, I could find my answers by doing one simple thing—as well as figure out if getting my point balance above 200,000 was possible at the same time.

All I had to do call someone.

They picked up on the 2nd ring.

“Hello, this is the Yukimura residence,” she said.

“Yukimura. I need to ask you something.”

“...Yukimura? Have you forgotten your manners, Kouhai-kun?”

She was as snarky as usual. And to be honest, in normal circumstances, I would happily play along.

But my walk to school was only ten minutes long at the most.

Even if I strolled as leisurely as possible.

“Sorry, but I don’t have time for a ridiculous exchange.”

There was a long pause from the phone, before a lengthy sigh.

“That's incredibly rude. Kouhai-kun, it’s genuinely revolting that you’re—"

“Yukimura."

"......"

"Is there any way for me to get 30,000 points by next Thursday besides transfers from other students?”

“...No, there isn’t. If you managed to get onto the exco of a club, or perhaps made something that the school could retail… maybe. But the timeline is too short, and my club is totally staffed… and… um..."

I heard Yukimura swallow nervously.

“Kouhai-kun.”

“What?”

“...Actually, nothing. Please continue.”

I didn't bother expending any brainpower trying to figure out what she would've said.

If I was right, she would tell me when we hung up anyway.

“There’s something I need you to do for me," I told her. "Help me search up the names of a few first-years on the Student Search function.”

“Can’t you do that yourself?”

“No, it would be pointless. I need to know their Interpersonal ratings.”

I didn't have my tablet with me, either.

Perhaps detecting the seriousness in my request, Yukimura herself adopted a more businesslike tone.

“I can’t. I’ve told you this before.”

I’d expected her to say that.

“Then put it this way. I could get expelled if I don’t get my hands on that information, since I’m in the middle of a Special Project.”

“That doesn’t change a thing. Rules are rules.”

I'd also expected her to say that.

But since I understood what made her tick, I also knew what to say to force her hand.

“No, Yukimura. I think you misunderstand. What I’m saying is that I desperately need that information, and you need a reason to show the school that you aren’t just giving me a free handout. Those two things aren't mutually exclusive—since I could pay you for the information.”

“...Hmm.”

“And I don’t mean a token sum, either. For every student that I ask you to search up, I’ll pay you 5,000 points. I can transfer them to you after my Special Project ends on the 26th.”

Yukimura took a few seconds to contemplate before giving me a reply.

“...Sure, that would be acceptable. But I’m only going to give you their Interpersonal rating, nothing else.”

Money talks.

Not that Yukimura needed the money at all—but based on how Kitazawa seemed to operate and the clues she’d so nicely given to me, Yukimura was allowed to break the rule regarding an information embargo so long as I provided an exchange of equivalent value.

Because in the end, she was the one who imposed the rule on herself.

She just lied to me so I wouldn’t assume it was out of self-interest.

As long as she didn’t come up with the structure of the deal or drop massive hints for free, it wouldn’t incur any penalties on her ratings for being prone to personal biases—for someone who wanted to stay in Class A for whatever reason, keeping her ratings high was necessary.

And Kitazawa High obviously didn't value kindness in their students.

I could surmise as much.

“That works,” I said. “Can you search the names up now?”

“...Yeah."

“First name, Sakura Emi from Class 1-F. I need you to be quick, because depending on how this goes, there may be a lot of names.”

There was a brief silence on Yukimura's end.

Like she felt guilty for having to charge me for something that took her 5 seconds of effort.

“...Kouhai-kun. Are you sure you want to buy information that might be completely useless? You have no idea what Interpersonal even measures.”

“It’s fine. I think I've figured it out.”

Not exactly—but it would be obvious once I got the data of a few individuals.

And either way, I couldn't afford to spend points paying her for a breakdown where my intuition might suffice.

If I reached 0 points, it was game over. 5,000 was my limit for a question.

“...Sakura Emi. 53 rating, D grade, ranked 113 out of 240 students.”

"What percentile does that correlate to nationally?"

"55th."

Interesting.

So, this proved to me that Sakura didn't come up with her plan by herself—and neither did she target me by accident. 

She wasn't a manipulative genius or a social airhead. 

Just an average person.

Depending on this next person's rating, that could either be very surprising or very worrying.

“Next. Watanabe Yousuke from Class 1-B.”

“He isn’t even from Class F… why would you need his information?”

Yukimura had just given away the fact she roughly knew what my Special Project entailed.

Perhaps she had a source, or something similar had happened when she was a first-year—if it were the second, then I'd have to consult her during our unofficial club session next Wednesday.

I made a mental note about this before replying with an explanation.

"Sakura Emi planted a target on my back, yet somehow managed to do it in a way that seemed completely innocuous. In fact, I'd pegged her as a complete airhead before this—someone average at social manipulation couldn't possibly have managed that by themselves. She and Watanabe are quite close, so I'm trying to verify my hypothesis."

“...I see. That makes sense."

“Also, I would appreciate it if you stopped questioning my requests. I’m paying you for them.”

“...Nkk."

It was a very weird sound—like a mix between a moan and a groan.

“...Fine. Watanabe Yousuke. 81 rating, B+ grade, ranked 41 out of 240 students.”

“Hmm.”

Sakura Emi’s score wasn't surprising at all, then.

This was also circumstantial evidence that she'd sourced ideas from Watanabe. I suspected as much, since the flirting plan did have a very ‘male’ feel to it. And if my roommate really were trying to help her kick me out of school, that was an issue I'd have to address.

But that investigation could take place on the weekend.

For now, I had to confirm what I was going to do on Day 1 of the Special Project.

“Last name, because I have to go soon,” I said. “Yamada Junpei, my class.”

“Yamada Junpei. 37 rating, E grade, ranked 221st out of 240.”

An idiot.

A person worthy of Basket A.

With those 15,000 points I'd spent, I'd managed to carve out a rough plan that focused on getting 39th place or better.

Firstly, I would use 'Junpei-kun' as a scapegoat.

Secondly, I didn't have to worry about Sakura Emi too much—assuming she wasn't taking orders from Watanabe, then she wouldn't cause much more damage to me in the future. And if Sakura Emi were my biggest competition despite having such a low Interpersonal score, I could assume the rest of Basket C would be pushovers to beat.

I'd be set after evaluating which students I could toss into Basket B.

Those that I could manipulate.

“By the way, last one?" Yukimura asked. "Aren’t you going to search up Tsujimoto-san’s score? Or your own?”

"Not interested."

Why would I ask a question I already knew the answer to?

I'd already spent myself down to 161,660 points, if you included debt.

"...Alright."

I didn’t need a system to tell me about someone I’d known for ten years—and I especially didn’t need a system to tell me that I was better than everyone else.

“That’s all from me,” I said. “I’m hanging up.”

“...Kouhai-kun.”

“Hmm?”

"It's like you're a completely different person."

"No, I'm Mizuhara Kohei."

Yukimura sighed, then stayed silent, as if struggling to find the correct words for her message.

"...I think... I'm honestly quite glad you aren’t in my year.”

I smiled to myself.

“Goodbye, Yukimura.”

I hung up without waiting for her response.

Walking into the entrance of the school building, I made my way to my classroom to look for a bespectacled girl named Mino Ruri.