After becoming Fūki Ran's "eyes" and "ears," Karuizawa Kei's life entered a twisted new normal. By day, she was still Karuizawa Kei, nestled against Hirata Yousuke and chatting cheerfully with her clique; it was just that keeping up this "normal" act now took several times as much effort. Every glance at Hirata, every conversation with a friend, came with a sharp stab of pain and guilt. She began to fear being alone, because the silence amplified the accusations of her conscience; yet she also feared crowds, worried she might let something slip without meaning to.
However, alongside this mental torment came a twisted sense of security she was unwilling to admit. Fūki did not demand too much of her right away. He simply used an encrypted communicator to ask seemingly ordinary questions at regular intervals: Who had Hirata been spending time with lately? What were the class's main complaints about the shortage of points? Were there any new developments or conflicts within the Girls' Cliques? These questions tormented her with a sense of betrayal, but at least her most devastating secret seemed safe for the time being. Fūki was like a silent judge holding her book of life and death, temporarily postponing the verdict. To her, even that brief reprieve was an immense blessing. She began to observe and remember things carefully, as if completing an assignment, then tremble as she entered the information into the cold communicator in the dead of night.
These seemingly trivial bits of information, once they passed through Fūki's skillful hands, revealed a picture far more valuable than they appeared. Through Karuizawa's perspective, he glimpsed the helplessness behind Hirata Yousuke's idealism. Hirata tried to unite the class but couldn't find an effective method, and could only wear himself out between Ken Sudō's impulsiveness, Yukimura Teruhiko's conservatism, and the shortsightedness of so many students. He also saw clearly that the girls' groups were far from united. Under the pressure of scarce resources, envy, jealousy, and petty scheming were taking root in the shadows over their meager Public Fund. These details gave him a deeper, more nuanced understanding of the fragile nature of Class D, that gathering of "defective products."
Meanwhile, the hidden thread involving Kushida Kikyo was also running smoothly. She continued to monitor the class's overall atmosphere and, following Fūki's instructions, began deliberately spreading carefully selected, dubious "inside information" among the girls. For example, "I heard the school might reevaluate how Class Points are allocated based on our performance in the Special Exam," or "It seems Class A has already gotten hold of some key information about the exam format." These rumors were a mix of truth and lies. Their purpose wasn't to provide accurate information, but to sow even more uncertainty among an already anxious group, throw their opponents off balance, and quietly drive up the value of "information," paving the way for Fūki to manipulate it later.
As for Horikita Suzune, Fūki adopted an entirely different strategy. Rather than rushing to make progress, he acted like a patient sculptor. When they occasionally "ran into each other" in the Library, he exchanged a few brief but incisive remarks with her, often about abstract topics such as the nature of the school's rules and the difficulties of collective action. He wasn't trying to persuade her at once; he was simply tossing pebbles into her closed-off world, again and again, to make her think. He keenly noticed that although Horikita still outwardly rejected the group, her insistence on "efficiency" and "results" was beginning to conflict subtly with her belief in looking after only herself. Especially after seeing Hirata's efforts yield little and the class remain in disarray, a faint glimmer of thought about a "more effective method" would occasionally cross her eyes. Fūki's task was to let that seed slowly take root in her mind.
The Special Exam hung overhead like a Sword of Damocles. As its official announcement drew closer, the pressure mounted exponentially. The atmosphere within Class D grew increasingly fraught and nervous. Even the slightest friction could spark a heated argument, and Hirata Yousuke's attempts to soothe everyone were becoming increasingly ineffectual. Chabashira Sae remained as indifferent as ever, as if coldly watching an experiment doomed to fail.
Fūki knew the storm was coming. He was like a player standing in the eye of the storm, surrounded by surging chaos and panic, yet inwardly possessed of icy clarity. He held several key cards:
Kushida Kikyo: This card was like an omnipresent web, covering the class's visible social ties and information flow. Skilled at creating and steering public opinion, she was a powerful tool for sowing disorder and obscuring the truth.
Karuizawa Kei: This card was deeply embedded in the class's core, at Hirata Yousuke's side. She could provide valuable inside information from the decision-making circle, making her a crucial source for gauging the opponent's movements.
Horikita Suzune: This card was still half hidden in its sheath. Her extraordinary individual ability and rationality made her a potential double-edged sword. If he could find a suitable goal for her, she could unleash astonishing destructive or constructive power.
What he needed to do now was strengthen his control over these pieces as much as possible before the Special Exam rules were officially revealed, and anticipate the various situations those rules might bring, running through countless possibilities in his mind. He had to ensure that no matter whether the exam involved teamwork, individual competition, a struggle for resources, or a battle of wits, he could effectively coordinate and direct the forces at his disposal—then, at the crucial moment, point them toward the greatest gains or deliver the most devastating blow to his rivals.
Late into the night, the lights in Dorm 129 often stayed on. Fūki Ran bent over his desk, writing furiously. His notebook was densely covered with strategic analyses, relationship charts, resource assessments, and all manner of contingency plans. Outside the window lay a campus rife with undercurrents, with a storm about to break; inside, a lone hunter carefully honed his weapons and checked his aim, waiting for his prey to appear—or for the perfect moment to bring the other hunters into his sights as well.
The game was already in motion, awaiting only the whistle that would announce its beginning.
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