Black Market (cont.) II

Saturday, 20th April, 8am.

The moment my alarm rang, the first thing I did was grab my tablet.

Barring being popular itself, the most important aspect of this Special Project was understanding the psychology of your class based on the vote and how it changed day to day. Like micro-microeconomics.

It was crucial that I absorbed this information and took it to heart.

[Popularity Contest: Forecasted Poll]

The first thing that struck me when I expanded the D-Goal was that I could only see the results of my class. Since I’d intended to check in on Class 1-B to gauge Watanabe’s threat level, it was mildly disappointing.

Thus, with not-so-bated breath, I scrolled past all the greyed out buttons for the other classes and tapped on my own.

The following popped up.

Class 1-F:

1st: Sakura Emi (+7)

2nd: Kagawa Ayase (+4)

3rd: Sugihara Junko (+3)

“......”

After realising the top 3 were literally just the 3 most attractive girls in my class ranked in order, I decided that studying every name from 1st to 40th would be a waste of time at the moment. Instead, I scrolled quickly to the bottom to find out what my score was.

38th: Okumura Daiichi (0)

39th: Ueda Yuji (0)

40th: Mizuhara Kohei (-4)

Notably, Mino Ruri was 22nd with (+2), and Yamada Junpei was 28th with a score of (+1).

Besides giving me a rundown from 1st to 40th position, I could also click on each student to get the details of who they voted for as well as who voted for them. In addition, there were two other features, Tally and Simulation.

The Tally feature allowed me to get the breakdown of how many votes were casted in total, as well as each type: For Day 1, there were 78 exemplary votes casted and 5 deplorable votes. 2 boys had opted not to use their male exemplary vote.

As for the Simulation feature, it allowed me to view the results of a hypothetical poll where I could control all 40 students—an incredibly shady tool that let you visualise how manipulation would affect the results of the poll.

Regardless, the most interesting takeaway from all of the data was this: Positions 5th to 39th were just a gradient of (+2), (+1), and (0) scores. On top of that, the only students who received more than (+2) were exclusively girls, and the majority of students who got (+1) scores were males.

As for the bottom 7, aside from me, all of them were boys who had a score of (0). I’d also been the recipient of all six deplorable votes.

“What the hell,” I muttered—despite the fact I felt dehydrated from a night of sleep.

I was just so disgusted by what I’d seen, I couldn’t help but speak to myself.

To make sure I wasn’t just being insane, I went over to the Simulation feature and started playing around with the possibilities. The first thing I did was forecast my own deplorable vote for Mino Ruri.

Just like that, her score changed to (+1), and then she slid 10 places to 32nd. A position where she’d get expelled thanks to the 20,000 point penalty.

Evidently, aside from Sakura Emi, no one understood the mechanics of the poll.

“This is ridiculous.”

With that, I got out of bed and opened my bedroom door intending to get a glass of water from the kitchen—which in hindsight probably wasn’t a good idea, because anyone else who’d just woken up would think of doing the same thing.

“Yo, Kohei.”

“......”

“You look so angry. Did something annoying happen to you?”

Face-to-face in the corridor again.

Watanabe Yousuke, holding a glass of water.

He had his usual smile plastered all over his face—a signature look that I now realised was an elaborate mask for pure venom.

“...Not really,” I said. “I’m just a bit thirsty.”

Perhaps if I hadn’t just woken up, I would’ve realised that avoiding this person was more important than water and acted accordingly. It wasn’t just a simple matter of getting annoyed by him, but also the fact that I needed to choose the timing of my confrontation wisely.

You want to negotiate with someone when you have a clear mind and a good grasp of what they’ll use as leverage. Not when you’re tired, thirsty, angsty and have zero sources of information about their class.

“What a coincidence, I’m thirsty too. Want to head to Kitazawa café for a drink?”

“No.”

He laughed in a manner that no longer felt strangely kind, just patronising. And applauded as well.

“Funny guy. If I were you, I’d be thinking of how to blow all my cash before it becomes worthless.”

Annoying bastard.

“...If that’s all, I’m going to go to the kitchen.”

Engaging with him now would be a waste of time.

Compared to Mari, Sakura, or even Yukimura—he was clearly cut from a different cloth.

By that, I mean that he was capable of malice, just like myself.

Not to mention the school had a Combat rating in place.

As I walked past him to get to the kitchen, he spoke up. “Now, now, Kohei. It’s not that I dislike you, it’s just that I’m annoyed by your existence.”

“You just repeated the same thing.”

“No. What I’m saying is you’re a sandbagging piece of shit. Class F students are all one-dimensional—they’re either smart, athletic, really good at just one thing, or simply too kind to cut it at this school. When I look at you, all I see is an average guy with no redeemable qualities. You can’t even act nice to your best friend.”

“So, Class F material?”

“Average people with no redeemable qualities don’t get enrolled here.”

“True.”

I agreed not because I was speechless, or angry, or impressed—but simply because I wanted him to get his lecture over and done with.

“So you see, I’m not expecting you to get expelled. I’m doing this to force your hand. Even on the off-chance you get thrown out, that'd be totally fine by me. I’d get this whole room to myself. And anyway, that’s the entire point of this school, isn’t it? They’re only keeping the lower half around as fodder for people like me to practice on—the entire design is meant to weed out genuine trash like those in Class F.”

But I can tell you’re not trash, so show me something fun instead, he finished.

“Thank you, but did I ask?”

“Heheh. I’ll see you around, my dear roommate. By the way, you’ll want to check your phone soon.”

Once he'd gotten the final word in, I heard his footsteps recede into his room.

An intrusive thought flashed into my head.

One dead, one injured.

Japanese school adventure.

‘Domestic dispute’.

By Mizuhara Kohei.

Just kidding, I wouldn’t kill Watanabe.

For now, I would be content with just staying enrolled at this school—so I could witness Watanabe Yousuke’s expulsion at my own hands.

In the meantime, I got some water, headed back to my room, and noticed I’d received a text message on my phone.

***

Hello, is this Mizuhara-kun? I got your contact from Yousuke-kun.

I am writing to inform you that we will be having a class meeting regarding the Special Project today at 10am. It will be held in Function Room 1, at the basement level of Kitazawa Library.

Since the Special Project will continue to take place over the weekend, I feel that it is necessary we continue to discuss this issue as a class.

I would appreciate it if you could attend.

Thank you!

Yours faithfully,
Sakura Emi
Class Representative

***

One thing that bugged me about the message was that if Sakura Emi really intended to get me expelled, she could easily have not informed me about the meeting. This was either an act of altruism or another scheme, just like the exemplary vote she'd casted on me for the poll.

Regardless, I didn’t have a choice as to whether I went or not. Not going would be the equivalent of cementing my spot in 40th place—and anyway, now that I had a concrete idea of what the class dynamics were, I knew how to approach the meeting in order to counteract whatever script Watanabe had prescribed to her.

That is, of course, if she hadn’t completely deviated from it already.

I replied Sakura Emi with the following:

[Sure. Let’s meet up 30 minutes before, I have something to discuss with you.]

Maybe she had been on the phone at the exact moment I texted her, because her reply came instantly.

[What is it about?]

[Mino Ruri.]

I considered typing ‘Watanabe Yousuke’ for a moment, but that would do nothing to fix my predicament.

I had to be able to prioritise my issue first, not hers.

[Okay.]

After putting on a black hoodie and jeans and eating cup udon for breakfast, I started making my way to Kitazawa Library at around 9.15am.

When I reached the entrance, I spotted a tall girl with blue hair that fell to the middle of her back.