Undercurrents and the Chessboard's First Move

After becoming Fūki Ran's "eyes" and "ears," Karuizawa Kei's life entered a distorted new normal. By day, she remained the Karuizawa Kei who nestled by Hirata Yousuke's side, chatting and laughing within their small group. However, this "normalcy" now required several times the mental effort to perform. Every glance at Hirata, every conversation with friends, was accompanied by a sharp pang of guilt and self-recrimination. She began to fear being alone, as silence amplified the accusations of her conscience; yet she also dreaded crowds, fearing she might inadvertently reveal a clue.

However, accompanying this mental torment was a distorted sense of security she was unwilling to admit. Fūki Ran did not immediately demand too much. He only periodically asked seemingly ordinary questions via encrypted communicator—who had Hirata been close to lately? What aspects of the point shortage were causing the most complaints in the class? Were there any new developments or conflicts within the girls' cliques? While these questions caused her the agony of betrayal, at least the most fatal secret seemed temporarily contained. Fūki was like a silent judge holding her death certificate, temporarily postponing the verdict, and this brief reprieve was a great gift to her. She began to observe and remember meticulously, like completing homework, and then, late at night when all was quiet, she would tremblingly input the information into the cold communicator.

These seemingly fragmented pieces of information, through Fūki's meticulous hands, pieced together a picture far exceeding their surface value. Through Karuizawa's perspective, he gained insight into the powerlessness behind Hirata Yousuke's idealism—he tried to unite the class but struggled to find effective methods, constantly running ragged between Sudo Ken's impulsiveness, Yukimura Teruhiko's conservatism, and the shortsightedness of many students. He also clearly saw that the girls' groups were not monolithic; under the pressure of resource scarcity, envy, jealousy, and petty calculations were brewing in the shadows around the meager Public Fund. These details gave him a deeper, more three-dimensional understanding of the fragile nature of Class D, a collection of "flawed products."

Meanwhile, this hidden line of Kushida Kikyo was also operating efficiently. She not only continued to monitor the overall atmosphere of the class but, as per Fūki's instructions, began to consciously spread carefully selected, ambiguous "insider information" within the girls' circles. For example, "I heard the school might re-evaluate the class point distribution based on Special Exam performance," or "Class A seems to have grasped some key information about the exam format." These rumors, true and false, were not intended to convey accurate intelligence but to create greater uncertainty in an already anxious group, disrupt the opponents' judgment, and simultaneously, invisibly, increase the value of "information," paving the way for Fūki's potential information manipulation in the future.

Regarding Horikita Suzune, Fūki adopted a completely different strategy. He did not rush for immediate results but, like a patient sculptor, occasionally engaged her in brief yet incisive conversations during "chance" encounters at the library, often revolving around abstract topics like the essence of school rules and the difficulties of collective action. He did not seek to persuade her immediately but merely dropped stones that sparked thought into her closed mental world. He keenly sensed that although Horikita outwardly still rejected the collective, her dedication to "efficiency" and "results" was creating a subtle conflict with her principle of self-preservation. Especially after seeing Hirata's efforts yield little result and the class remain in chaos, a barely perceptible hint of contemplation for "more effective methods" would occasionally flash in her eyes. Fūki's goal was to let this seed slowly sprout in her heart.

The Special Exam, like a Sword of Damocles hanging overhead, approached with its official announcement date drawing ever nearer, increasing the pressure exponentially. The atmosphere within Class D became more anxious and neurotic. A small friction could easily ignite a heated argument, and Hirata Yousuke's attempts at appeasement seemed increasingly pale and ineffective. Chabashira Sae maintained her indifferent detachment, as if coldly observing an experiment destined to fail.

Fūki knew the storm was coming. He felt like a chess player standing in the eye of the hurricane, surrounded by surging chaos and panic, yet with a cold clarity within. He held several key cards:

Kushida Kikyo: This card was like an omnipresent spiderweb, covering the surface-level interpersonal relationships and information flow of the class. Skilled at creating and guiding public opinion, she was a powerful tool for disruption and spreading confusion.

Karuizawa Kei: This card was deeply embedded within the class's core—by Hirata Yousuke's side. She could provide valuable insider information from the decision-making circle, serving as a crucial informant for observing the opponent's movements.

Horikita Suzune: This card was currently half-sheathed. Her extreme personal ability and rationality represented a potential double-edged sword; if a suitable target could be found for her, she could unleash astonishing destructive or constructive power.

What he needed to do now was to consolidate his control over these pieces as much as possible before the Special Exam rules were officially revealed, anticipate various scenarios the rules might bring, and mentally simulate countless possibilities. He needed to ensure that, regardless of whether the exam format involved teamwork, individual competition, resource competition, or intellectual games, the forces in his hand could be effectively integrated and guided, directed towards the most profitable direction at the most critical moment, or, to deliver the most fatal blow to his competitors.

Late at night, the lights in Dorm 129 were often on until the early hours. Fūki Ran hunched over his desk, his notebook densely filled with strategy analyses, relationship charts, resource assessments, and various contingency plans. Outside the window, the campus was a swirl of undercurrents, the calm before the storm; inside, a lone hunter was meticulously sharpening his weapons, calibrating his sights, waiting for the prey to appear, or waiting for the opportune moment to bring other hunters into his hunting grounds as well.

The chessboard was set; all that remained was the whistle announcing the start of the game.