Ike and Yamauchi were already at school when I arrived—which was strange in itself, considering those two usually strolled in just before the bell. They greeted each other with exaggerated cheer, clearly more excited than usual. I didn't even need to guess the reason. Today was the first swimming class, and just like in the light novel, they were hyped for all the wrong reasons.
"Swimsuits, man. Swimsuits," I heard Ike whisper like a pervert on the verge of nirvana.
Yamauchi nodded with an equally idiotic grin, both completely unashamed of the fact that they were practically drooling over the thought of girls in swimsuits. I stayed in my seat, watching silently as they roped in someone they called "Doctor"—a chubby guy whose real name was probably Sotomura. He was their go-to tech guy. Their plan? Rank breast sizes and, if possible, sneak pictures.
Yeah. Subtlety wasn't their strong suit.
Even Sudou looked uncomfortable, which said a lot.
Then, Ike called out to Ayanokoji, and Yamauchi—of course—turned his attention to me.
They wanted us to join in on some bet about which girl had the biggest chest. Ayanokoji agreed without much fuss, probably just to avoid standing out. I, on the other hand, refused. Politely but firmly.
Not that it mattered. The girls had already started glaring. Their disgust didn't differentiate between who joined and who didn't. Guilt by association, I guess.
Yamauchi, meanwhile, was bragging about confessing to a girl named Sakura. Claimed she looked ordinary at first, but apparently had some hidden "assets" under her clothes.
By the end of it, their betting game was in full swing, odds displayed on a literal spreadsheet.
.
.
The swimming event went about as expected.
Koenji won, as he should. Ayanokoji placed just ahead of me.
I used Jarvis to make sure I didn't go all out—holding back while swimming isn't easy, but with its help, I could control exactly how much strength to exert.
Though i didn't have much expectation from myself even if i gave it my all, It had only been a week since i was training afterall.
The rest of the month passed in much the same way. I kept up with my training and started branching out academically—spending more time in the library, consuming books on history, geography, advanced math, and the occasional novel.
With Jarvis, I could process them instantly, so it didn't take long to cover a lot.
My relationship with the class remained unchanged.
I occasionally chatted with the professor about anime, and sometimes exchanged words with the idiot trio—depending on their mood.
Strangely enough, I hadn't spoken to a single girl yet. Not that it meant anything....
;_;
Then came the end of the month—what I'd actually been waiting for.
.
.
Third period. History. Chiyabashira-sensei's class.
End of the month meant an evaluation test—nothing official, just a reference point for the school.
As expected, Sae-sensei walked in right on the bell.
"Everyone, be quiet—today's class will be a little more serious."
The usual back-row noise kicked in.
"What do you mean~ Sae-chan-sensei~?"
They'd already gotten comfortable enough to nickname her.
She passed the papers to the front row.
When it reached me, I glanced at the questions.
'Jarvis. Give me a total score of 73%. Make the answers look natural—some mistakes here and there. Don't make it look calculated.'
Immediately, my brain filtered through a realistic mix of correct and incorrect answers, mimicking human error. Wrong steps in some places—just enough to make it believable.
I began writing, pausing just enough between questions to match the rhythm of someone actually thinking.
Twenty questions. Five subjects. Four questions each. Five points per question. A perfect 100 wasn't what I wanted.
Above average, not enough to stand out.
.
.
After the test ended, most students started to discuss how there exam went.
I couldn't do that since i didn't really have a friend.
So i just left the classroom during the lunch break.
.
.
May began.
Chabashira walked in with a tube tucked under her arm.
This was the day the class found out how this school worked.
If I hadn't known the system beforehand, I might've wasted points recklessly too.
Ike started the period with a joke about menopause.
Then came the question.
"Why didn't we get any points this month?"
Exactly as expected. They hadn't figured it out.
Koenji had, of course. He played it up, legs on desk, pointing at the teacher.
He was right. The class had earned zero points.
Because they acted like children in a school built for something else.
Absences, tardies, talking in class, using phones.
And Class D had performed like Class D.
I watched as the realization finally hit them.
Hirata stepped up, trying to get more information.
They'd all been taught since grade school not to talk in class or show up late. She said there was no need to explain what they already should've known.
Most of them weren't prepared to face that kind of reasoning.
When she pinned the poster up, the numbers spoke for themselves.Class A – 940.Class B – 650.Class C – 490.Class D – 0.
So far behind the others that it almost looked intentional.
A few began to realize what kind of system they'd entered.
They were labeled defective.
That was how the world worked, and this school was simply following the same logic.
.
.
"All right, I have one more piece of bad news I have to tell you guys."
She pinned another sheet to the blackboard. A list of names. Each with a number beside it.
"As expected, this class is full of idiots."
She scanned the room as her heels clicked across the floor.
"These scores... Really makes me wonder what any of you were doing in middle school."
The average was around 65. A few were higher, most were lower. Sudou had 14. Ike, 24. The red line separating failing scores had seven names below it—Kikuchi at 31 was the cutoff.
My name wasn't near that line. 73. Exactly as requested.
"If this test had counted, seven of you would already be packing your bags. But lucky you, it didn't."
"D-drop out? What do you mean?"
"Did I not mention this before? A failing mark in any subject—on either the midterm or final—means expulsion. The limit is 32 points. Anything less, you're out."
Predictably, panic set in. A few students shouted. Voices overlapped, some in denial, some in disbelief.
Koenji continued polishing his nails, unfazed.
"As the teacher said, there do seem to be a lot of fools here."
Ike jumped at him. "What was that, Koenji!? You're down there with us too!"
"Look more carefully."
Sure enough, his name was tied at the top. 90.
Koenji hadn't just passed—he crushed it. Unbothered by the noise around him, he kept filing his nails like it was all beneath him.
"I never thought that Sudou would be a stupid character like me…!"
Ike mumbled, sarcasm covering embarrassment.
Chiyabashira-sensei spoke again.
"This school has the highest rates of college admissions and job placements in the country. That's not just a rumor. If you graduate from here, getting into Tokyo University is practically a formality."
But her next words cut through that idealism.
"That said—people at your level will probably never make it."
Hirata tried to shift the focus. "So if we want to reach that future… surpassing Class C is the first step."
"You're still not getting it, Hirata."
She adjusted the paper on the board.
"Class A. Only Class A receives the school's full support. Everyone else gets nothing. No guarantees. No future."
Yukimura stood up, clearly shaken.
"This is absurd! No one told us anything!"
Koenji didn't even look at him. Just gave his response, as if it were beneath him.
"How shameful. Men who shout and panic have no dignity."
"Don't you feel anything being placed in Class D?"
"Why should I? The school can sort me however it wants. I know who I am."
He continued without pause.
"My future is already decided. The Koenji Conglomerate doesn't care if I graduate from Class D or A. This school means nothing to me."
There was no rebuttal to that. Yukimura sat down, his voice quiet.
Sensei moved toward the door.
"Whether or not you survive here depends on your midterms. Three weeks. Try not to get yourselves expelled. That is… if any of you still want a future."
She left, shutting the door behind her.
Sudou didn't even lift his head. The others looked just as defeated.