Delayed Repayment and Covert Investigation

Time flowed like fine sand through an hourglass, silently passing in the seemingly peaceful daily life of the campus, and in the blink of an eye, it was the cusp of the new month's point distribution. On this day, the air in the Class D classroom seemed to have solidified, filled with a palpable tension, a mixture of faint hope and deep anxiety. The midnight bell sounded like an invisible command, and almost all students, without exception, eagerly took out their Student Terminals. Their fingers, with a barely perceptible tremor, tapped open the account balance inquiry interface.

However, reality was often crueler than the worst-case scenario.

The numbers that popped up on the screen were like a cold iron hammer, striking heavily at everyone's heart—five thousand private points.

A brief, dead silence.

Immediately after, the classroom erupted like a pond into which a boulder had been thrown, exploding into chaos. Disbelieving gasps, despairing sighs, and suppressed complaints rose one after another, weaving into a lament of failure.

"Only five thousand points?! What a joke!"

"How is this even enough to get by! We'll have trouble affording food!"

"It's over... it's really over..."

Compared to the dazzling one hundred thousand points from the first month, which seemed capable of fulfilling every desire, these meager five thousand points were insultingly paltry, even carrying a sense of mockery. They ruthlessly declared Class D's bottom-tier status in the brutal evaluation system and utterly shattered the lingering fantasies of many who had hoped to return to their initial "affluent" lives. This amount, even if only considering the most basic three meals a day, while the free Mountain Vegetable Set Meal was available, occasional additional nutritional intake was still needed. Coupled with the indispensable expenses for daily necessities, it already felt stretched thin. Any form of extra spending—whether buying a long-awaited extracurricular book, a slightly better bottle of shampoo, or participating in even the most ordinary group activity—became an unattainable luxury. The invisible shackles of survival seemed to tighten another notch, further compressing the space for free activity, and a suffocating sense of oppression weighed heavily on the hearts of every Class D student.

Fūki Ran calmly looked at the enormous number displayed on his terminal screen, a balance so staggeringly large it would shock anyone, a stark contrast to the meager amounts around him. It was the spoils of his hunt in the Club Undercurrent, far surpassing the pitiful class allocation. His heart was like a deep, ancient well, undisturbed by any ripple. He had long seen through Chabashira Sae's languid, indifferent facade and understood the school's cold operating logic. Class D's comprehensive evaluation was like an insurmountable chasm, determining the lower limit of the resources they could obtain. The current situation was merely the most direct and undeniable proof of that "survival of the fittest" rule.

Amidst the clamor shrouded in disappointment and panic, his Student Terminal emitted a faint, pre-set notification sound. The screen lit up, displaying a new message from [Karuizawa Kei]. Fūki's gaze shifted slightly, and he opened the message. What appeared was not the expected transfer notification, but a message worded with extreme caution, so much so that one could clearly sense the recipient's current predicament, unease, and deep apology through the cold text:

[Classmate Fūki, good evening. I am very, very sorry to bother you at this hour. This month's points have been distributed, and I'm sure you've seen them... they're really too little, aren't they? (;ω;) I've calculated carefully, and this month I must set aside the basic living expenses and... and some necessary expenses that absolutely cannot be cut, so... so I really can't return the 3000 points I borrowed from you at Beech Shopping Center last time this month... I'm truly sorry! I know going back on my word like this is bad, and I understand it might cause you trouble, but I guarantee on my honor, next month! As soon as next month's points arrive, I will absolutely return them with interest immediately! I'm really sorry, can you please give me another month? Please! (´;ω;｀)]

At the end of the message, a carefully chosen, pitiful apology emoticon was attached, attempting to maximize the recipient's sympathy.

Fūki read the message word by word, his face showing no expression, as if reading an experimental report unrelated to him. Kei's reply was both unexpected and, upon reflection, entirely logical. These mere five thousand points were undoubtedly a drop in the bucket for maintaining her usual glamorous appearance, participating in specific social activities, and potentially other unknown expenses. It might even be difficult to maintain her basic lifestyle. Her perpetually exquisite and proper makeup, and the occasional small accessories or clothing items that clearly couldn't be obtained from the school's free areas, all indicated that she was constantly striving to maintain a consumption image above average. These five thousand points could indeed have plunged her into a dire financial situation, struggling to make ends meet.

However, what truly concerned Fūki and led him to deep thought was not her financial predicament itself, but her choice of "priority" in handling this debt. Logically, repaying a debt, especially to a classmate who wasn't very familiar, who gave off an unfathomable aura, and who shouldn't be easily offended, should be a high priority. Clearing it quickly could avoid unnecessary trouble, potential deterioration of interpersonal relationships, and even leverage that could be used against him. Yet, almost immediately after the points were distributed, she chose to explicitly state "delayed repayment." This strongly implied that in her current financial planning, there were "matters" more urgent than repaying these three thousand points, requiring priority use of those precious points to address.

What was this mysterious "matter"? Was it her own inability to give up her high consumption habits and vanity? Or, as he had previously speculated, did it involve some unspeakable secret or relationship that required points to keep silent, or continuous investment of resources to barely maintain?

Fūki did not immediately reply to this message full of apologies and tentative probing. He needed the silence itself to become a form of invisible pressure. He closed the chat window with Kei and quickly swiped his finger across the screen, opening the encrypted chat interface with [Kushida Kikyo]. It was time to initiate a targeted, in-depth investigation into Karuizawa Kei and her surrounding network. This rabbit that had unexpectedly entered his field of vision might lead him to discover more hidden paths in the forest.

He did not mention the specific details of the loan to Kikyo; that would reveal his focus and information sources too early. He simply issued a new directive to this pawn he had meticulously placed, in his usual calm and irrefutable tone:

[Kikyo, starting tomorrow, shift a portion of your observation focus to Karuizawa Kei and the core members of her small circle. Pay attention to their recent consumption details, such as whether they have purchased new items clearly beyond their current financial capacity, subtle changes in their emotional state, any hidden anxiety or tension, and any abnormalities in their behavior patterns, such as frequent solo actions, avoiding Hirata Yousuke or other specific individuals, changes in communication patterns, etc. Note: Maintain absolute naturalness, blending into daily interactions, and do not arouse any suspicion.]

Kikyo's reply appeared almost instantly, her text conveying excitement and eagerness at being entrusted with a significant task: [Understood! Completely understood! Classmate Fūki, please rest assured! That little group of Kei's, I've always felt there was something... well, a bit off about them! I'll chat and play with them as usual, and I'll see everything clearly! (^▽^)]

Putting down his terminal, Fūki slowly stood up and walked to the window of his dormitory. His deep gaze was cast upon the campus shrouded in the heavy night. Sparse streetlights cast small circles of dim yellow light in the darkness. Further away were the blurry outlines of buildings, with countless unknowns lurking in the silence. Kei's unusual request for a loan and delayed repayment was like a stone dropped into a lake shrouded in mist. He clearly heard the "plop" and sensed the ripples spreading, but he had yet to see the truth at the center of the disturbance.

This delayed repayment was not just a simple extension of a small debt. It was more like a flashing warning signal, strongly indicating that beneath the seemingly simple, even foolish, collective facade of Class D, lay personal predicaments more intricate, secret networks more complex, and undercurrents more turbulent than he had initially anticipated.

He was not in a hurry to demand the three thousand points. The value of this insignificant price was negligible compared to the information he might uncover about Class D's internal power structure, interpersonal weaknesses, and even personal secrets. He possessed ample patience and composure, like the most experienced hunter, waiting for the trapped fox to reveal more of its tail in its anxiety, or waiting for Kushida Kikyo, the sparrow he had gradually tamed and who depended on him, to bring him crucial clues from the depths of the complex human jungle, enough to piece together the picture of the truth.