Classroom of the Elite: After the Intel Refreshed, They All Want to Conquer Me! 14

"Damn it! I really want to join the Boxing Club too!" Yamauchi Haruki beat his chest and stomped his feet, "But the captain said the roster is already full!"

"Exactly," Ike Kanji chimed in, his eyes shimmering with longing, "Punching on the ring in such a cool way must be a great way to attract girls!"

The two of them huddled in a corner, whispering to each other.

In reality, the Boxing Club had fewer than twenty active members.

The exhibition matches, long performed by the same core group, had caused the audience to suffer from severe aesthetic fatigue.

It was precisely this sense of crisis that drove the captain to make up his mind to scout for some truly promising talent among the freshmen.

Of course, the selection criteria were extremely strict.

The primary requirement was a long-term foundation in sports—those whose punches were soft and weak, or who failed the physical fitness test, were all turned away by the captain under the pretext that they "didn't need anyone at the moment."

024 Could Karuizawa Kei be looking to hire me as a bodyguard?

At some point, the news of Shimizu Akira joining the Boxing Club had spread throughout the class.

He keenly noticed that the gazes cast by his classmates had undergone a subtle change.

The Boxing Club could indeed be considered a T0-tier club in this school.

Combat clubs like this, much like the gyaru in class, carried an inherent sense of intimidation—after all, no one wanted to end up being knocked out by a single punch over a momentary verbal dispute.

However, Shimizu Akira himself preferred to convince others with reason; if a problem could be solved through communication, he would never resort to violence easily.

"Shimizu-kun!" Karuizawa Kei approached his desk with a flower-like smile, "When is the Boxing Club holding its next match?"

Lately, this gyaru classmate of his had been finding excuses to strike up a conversation with him.

It wasn't hard to tell from her sparkling eyes that she seemed particularly interested in the sport of boxing.

"Two seniors are sparring next week," Shimizu Akira replied simply.

"Then how many ordinary people can Shimizu-kun take on at once right now?" Karuizawa Kei leaned her hands on his desk, her eyes flashing with excitement.

"..." Shimizu Akira didn't understand why she was so curious about such things, but he answered truthfully: "Three or five shouldn't be a problem."

Given his physique, even before he started boxing, subduing a few untrained ordinary people would have been more than enough.

"So cool!" Karuizawa Kei clapped her hands in excitement, "When you throw a straight punch, do you make that 'whoosh whoosh' sound like in the movies?"

"That's to coordinate breathing with force while maintaining rhythm. Beginners do tend to do that."

Shimizu Akira suddenly realized that Karuizawa Kei seemed more talkative than usual today.

The girl's delicate face was filled with a natural sense of admiration, and even though Shimizu Akira sensed the deliberate flattery in her words, he found it hard to feel any aversion.

After all, who could refuse the enthusiastic advances of a cute girl? This likely confirmed the truth: a man's tolerance for a woman is often directly proportional to her attractiveness.

However, he vaguely remembered that on the first day of school, Karuizawa Kei seemed to be very close to Hirata Yosuke in class?

Shimizu Akira cast his gaze toward the other end of the classroom without leaving a trace.

That sunny, handsome guy who had joined the Soccer Club was also surrounded by classmates like stars around the moon.

Seeming to sense his gaze, Hirata Yosuke turned his head and returned a bright, unreserved smile.

(Seeing Karuizawa Kei talking to me, he didn't react at all... It seems they aren't in that kind of relationship after all.)

Thinking of this, Shimizu Akira suddenly realized a detail—ever since that conversation at the beginning of the school year, Karuizawa Kei and Hirata Yosuke didn't seem to have had any interaction in class.

On the contrary, Karuizawa Kei had been gravitating toward him intentionally or unintentionally lately.

(Could it be... that she's looking to hire me as a bodyguard?)

This thought caused a subtle, complex feeling to stir in Shimizu Akira's heart.

Although being favored by a cute girl was indeed pleasant, it was a different matter entirely if he were being treated as a tool to be used. In this day and age, no one wanted to be that naive, gullible fool.

"Is Karuizawa-san so interested in the Boxing Club?" Kushida Kikyou, who had been silent for a long time, asked from the side.

"Ah~ actually, I'm not really interested in boxing itself!" Karuizawa Kei cupped her cheeks with both hands, her eyes sparkling, "I just think it's super cool when boys who box show off their upper body muscles!"

"That's not a very pure motive~" Kushida blinked.

"Hehe, what's wrong with liking boys with good figures!" Karuizawa Kei retorted defiantly, and even deliberately winked at Shimizu Akira.

Shimizu Akira's heart, however, remained as calm as a stagnant pool.

Because the enthusiasm Karuizawa Kei displayed felt more like a calculated approach to find a "protective umbrella" in his eyes.

"Well then, see you next time, Shimizu-kun!" As Karuizawa Kei left, her slender fingers "inadvertently" brushed against his abdominal muscles, and she widened her eyes dramatically, though the tips of her ears turned a faint crimson, "Wow! So firm!"

(Huh? This reaction... doesn't seem like something a seasoned gyaru would have.)

(Could it be... that she actually has no experience interacting with boys?)

(But then again, I just got blatantly molested, didn't I?)

The stirrings of puberty were never one-sided—girls were just as curious and desirous of a boy's body.

Girls are also very hormonal when it comes to men with muscles.

However, Shimizu Akira's gaze was suddenly drawn to a note on his desk.

The note appeared abruptly in his line of sight, as if it had materialized out of thin air.

--Who put this here?

The question flashed through his mind.

But this was clearly not the right time to investigate, as Kushida Kikyou was standing right next to his desk, watching him with those clear, limpid eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Kushida seemed to have sensed his anomaly.

"It's nothing." Shimizu Akira tucked the folded note into his pocket as if nothing had happened.

He decided to examine it carefully once he was alone.

Shimizu Akira changed the subject: "Speaking of which, Kushida-san, do you have any good ways to relieve stress?"

Kushida's eyes widened slightly, seemingly surprised by this sudden question: "...Eh? Why the sudden question?"

"No particular reason, I just wanted to hear your advice."

"I see... For me, just seeing my classmates happy makes me feel very happy. So... actually, I don't really need to go out of my way to relieve stress!"

The corner of Shimizu Akira's mouth twitched imperceptibly: "...Fine, as long as you're happy."

Just trying to think from Kushida's perspective made him feel a sense of mental fatigue.

It felt like the person was acting like a total phony.

Kushida Kikyou extended an invitation to Horikita Suzune as usual: "Horikita-san, would you like to go get some coffee together?"

"No need." Horikita's reply was crisp and decisive; she didn't even lift her head.

Kushida's smile didn't waver in the slightest, though she sighed softly: "What a pity~" She turned and walked toward the other girls, and soon the classroom was filled with their cheerful laughter and chatter, which gradually faded away along with their footsteps.

Just when Shimizu Akira thought this interlude had ended.

Horikita Suzune's gaze suddenly locked directly onto him, her tone calm to the point of being eerie: "What do you want to eat tonight?"

Shimizu Akira's fingers froze on the desk.

He slowly raised his head, doubting if he had misheard—the ever-solitary Horikita Suzune was actually asking him about his dinner preferences?

025 Horikita Suzune wants to buy information

Shimizu Akira narrowed his eyes slightly, his fingertips tapping lightly on the desk: "I see... So you mean you want to purchase information from me?"

Horikita Suzune's expression froze for a moment before returning to her signature cold demeanor: "...Yes."

--She had indeed thought a lot over the past two days.

The dense traces of thought in her notebook were proof of this.

Asking upperclassmen was undoubtedly the most direct route, but for Horikita Suzune, who hated socializing, that was an unsolvable problem.

(Rather than that...)

Her gaze refocused on Shimizu Akira.

(A direct transaction is more straightforward; at least this person is a desk-mate I know.)

Shimizu Akira stood before the ordering window, his eyes scanning the menu.

"One hamburg steak curry rice." He spoke without hesitation.

Since the other party was treating him, he saw no need to be polite.

The tray was handed over quickly—golden curry sauce coating the rice, topped with a thick hamburg steak, the fats slightly seeping out and emitting an enticing aroma.

Shimizu Akira picked up the tray, and as he turned, he caught a glimpse of Horikita Suzune's actions.

After helping pay for his meal, she was already sitting quietly at a corner table, pulling a tuna rice ball from her uniform pocket with slow, restrained movements.

The rice ball looked shriveled and was clearly not some exquisite dish, yet her expression remained unchanged, as if she were long accustomed to it.

He raised an eyebrow, ordered two bowls of miso soup, and walked toward her with the tray.

Shimizu Akira pushed a steaming bowl of miso soup in front of Horikita Suzune, the bowl clinking softly against the table.

"For you." His tone was flat.

Horikita's gaze lingered on the soup bowl for a moment before she shook her head: "I'm the one treating this time."

"100 points, just transfer it." Shimizu Akira stated the price.

"Shimizu-kun... do you really want to add me as a friend that much?" Horikita suddenly looked up.

Shimizu Akira's mouth twitched. He pulled out his phone, and the moment the screen lit up, his contact list was laid bare.

"You're overthinking it. I just thought you should have something hot for dinner." His fingertips swiped across the screen, and the dense list of contacts scrolled by rapidly—the names of almost all his classmates were there, including Class A's Sakayanagi Arisu and Kamuro Masumi, and Class B's Ichinose Honami.

"See? Do I lack you as a friend?"

Horikita's gaze swept over those names, and the corners of her lips tightened imperceptibly for a moment.

Shimizu Akira ignored Horikita's reaction and picked up his spoon.

He skillfully tore open a packet of ketchup and squeezed a vibrant spiral pattern onto the hamburg steak—the deep red sauce slowly slid down the curve of the patty, seeping into the gaps of the curry.

He speared a piece of the sauce-covered patty and popped it into his mouth; the sweet and sour tomato flavor exploded on his tongue, perfectly neutralizing the greasiness of the meat.

Scooping up another spoonful of rice soaked in curry, the rich, spicy aroma mingled with the sweet, sticky grains, filling my mouth with steaming warmth.

(Not only delicious, but the nutrition is also impeccable.)

The food on my tray was disappearing at a visible rate, while Horikita, sitting across from me, continued to take small bites of that shriveled rice ball.

"Be careful, or you won't even be able to step into the ring next month."

"The amateur Boxing Club doesn't have weight classes."

"Speaking of which, what club did you join, Horikita?"

"Not interested."

"You didn't sign up for the Student Council either?"

"..." This time, she didn't answer.

"..." Shimizu Akira chose not to press further.

Shimizu Akira lowered his head to finish the last of his curry rice, then picked up his miso soup and downed it in one go.

When he looked up, he noticed Horikita Suzune had already finished that shriveled sandwich and was calmly crumpling the wrapper into a ball in her palm—a habit that was completely different from that elegant genius young lady in Class A.

His gaze swept over her untouched bowl of miso soup.

"Finish your soup," he said, tapping the rim of the bowl with his spoon to create a crisp sound, "so we can continue discussing our deal."

As he spoke, his eyes pointedly glanced at the "Waste is Shameful" warning sign on the wall.

After a moment of hesitation, Horikita Suzune finally reached out to pick up the soup bowl and began to sip it in small mouthfuls.

When she set the bowl down, a drop of light brown broth was still hanging from the corner of Horikita Suzune's mouth; she instinctively licked her lips, her gaze scanning the tabletop for a napkin.

A hand with distinct knuckles suddenly entered her field of vision—Shimizu Akira had pulled out a tissue at some point and was nonchalantly holding it out to her.

"Wipe your mouth." His fingertips remained steady in mid-air, waiting for her to take it.

The words of refusal were already on the tip of Horikita Suzune's tongue—"I don't want to rely on anyone," her usual line.