Chapter 16: Brilliant Stupidity【P2】

Jiro

“Right, teaching. Yes, I am a teacher. Choosing. Great!”

She pivots before walking. The mechanical arm glides the chamber toward the screen as text appears on the display.

“These three days will be relatively relaxed. Each elective subject will host an orientation thingy.”

The next slide appears.

“Each has a small introductory test for you to get a feel for the subject, and—”

Slides filled with text flash in rapid succession across the screen.

“—yada yada, you get the drift. What is important is that at the end of the week, you fill in your selection. Otherwise, you will be placed into a random combination. And I don’t want to hear your whining about it, so do your lessons so you can choose what you want.”

A boy raises his hand. Her expression sours instantly.

“Yes. So that—” she points at him “—will not be tolerated!”

The chamber dives toward the boy, stopping so close he can almost touch it.

“But during homeroom classes, that rule doesn’t count, unfortunately.” She leans over the railing toward him expectantly.

The boy flinches back in his chair. “Oh. Um. I didn’t know...”

“Yeah, you kind of have to be in possession of a question point card before daring to ask.”

She clicks her tongue, tracing fingers back and forth along the railing. “But sadly, that rule does not apply to these classes.”

“R-rule?”

“Was that your question? Thank you!” She shifts back toward the screen to address us all.

“Simple answers like that can be found on your phone. Now stop interrupting my—”

Another hand rises. From… that girl.

I am surprised she is not holding an opened umbrella during class.

Nene glares at her from above, keeping the chamber suspended in front of the screen. “What?”

The light bar in front of the girl’s desk console glows green.

From a distance, her voice makes it just to me across the room. “How much do—”

“Louder!” Nene starts typing on the console before her.

On a blank canvas, the words ‘How much’ appear on the screen.

The girl barely raises her voice. “Exactly how much do the teachers make for each student they bring under their subjugation?”

The rest of her question prints onto the display.

Nene pats the railing of her chamber. “Excellent question, student! Transparency fosters a trusting and reliable relationship after all. And what is trust but the empty void of unknowing. Let me fill it.”

A slide filled with charts and lists of numbers appears. She aims a laser pointer at a column. “A thousand yen per student. But don’t worry, taxes take most of the fun out of it anyway...” She sniffles at the numbers.

The slide disappears as the screen turns blank.

“Enough homeroom. For my class—”

“But barely fifteen minutes of this class have passed!?” a boy calls out to her.

“Nobody cares!” She shakes her palms beside her head. “The fancy rules don’t list how long homeroom classes should be. And I don’t see how your silly little questions are my problem. Now. Political Science! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

Nene

Nobody budges. Painful.

“What is politics to start with?”

I shake an upheld finger at a girl below raising her hand. “No, no. This is my class. Not a Q&A.”

“Is it that loud person trying to force a flyer on you in the street? The news headline about corrupt politicians scheming under our noses? It is none of those.”

I sniff. “Well. Not canonically of course. Everyone is free to have their own interpretation. But that means I am also free to convince you of what I believe it to be. Change.”

Their simple minds just look at me blankly. So peaceful when they are ignorant.

“Your vision against another. Who will prevail? How will your actions and words change the world?

Let’s go over an illustrative example that always explains it best.

Long ago, a fortified city prospered from its fertile soil. The people made a fortune harvesting the sought-after grounds, building up a massive gold storage that made them a dominant power in the otherwise barren region. They were—”

“Um,” a girl dares to speak. “What does this have to do with political—”

“Silence, villager!” I glare down at her. “History is about what changed. Otherwise, I’d still be throwing rocks at you.”

She opens her mouth, ready to retort, but my menacing palm swirling down is enough to silence her.

“But power naturally draws in the powerless to fill the void.

Mercenaries, armed to the teeth, threatened the town with a relentless siege for days. The king of the region refused to help if not for a hefty payment. But going down like that was not considered an option for the hardworking people of this town.

Instead, they negotiated with the mercenaries at the gate.

‘Have mercy,’ the town’s leader pleaded with them. ‘For we will leave this place in peace. We request only to escape with our lives and our copper coins.’

Considering these coins were the lowest denomination in the financial system—just enough to buy a loaf of bread—the raiders agreed.

What followed was a peaceful but pitiful march as the townspeople fled the city with nothing but their clothing, lives, and sacks filled with copper.

A feasting parade takes their place, marching through the gates with fanfare. But when they check the vault, it stands empty except for a single gold coin.

Now. What happened?

Politics.

The townspeople change their own fates, not by having more muscle, but through words.

See, these stinky-rich farmers constructed a cunning plan against a bigger foe. In the days running up to the deal, they painted all their gold and silver pieces brown to make them look like copper.

Easy, and effective.”

A boy raises a hand but speaks regardless. “But why did the raiders not check the coins for—”

I mimic his voice, pitch-shifting to match his small stature. “’Why did they not check the coins?’”

Why do they always ask the same predictable question? Ironically, its nature provides the answer.

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Discover what happens next in: Chapter 16: Brilliant Stupidity【P3】

Written by Limited_Infinity. Extras, official publishing platforms and updates are publicly available only on the Patreon page “_Limited_Infinity_”

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