Classroom of the Elite, After the Intel Refreshed, They Always Want to Conquer Me! Chapter 8

"Wait... could he be..."

013 The Sudden Concern of Chabashira Sae

(Are the people in Class A not all as clever as Sakayanagi?)

(Someone with a record of theft can get into Class A, while an honor student like Horikita ends up in Class D... I'm finding this school harder and harder to understand.)

Could it be that the people in charge of sorting classes don't care about a student's dark history at all?!

However, as things stand, it doesn't seem like a good thing that this Kamuro was placed in Class A.

Just now, when he parted ways with Sakayanagi Arisu, he caught a glimpse of the look she gave Kamuro Masumi.

That gaze was like seeing a piece of prey, filled with effortless playfulness and cold interest.

This meticulous beauty had already marked Kamuro Masumi as the perfect pawn.

Thinking about it, if he hadn't intervened in time, Kamuro Masumi would likely have already become a toy in the palm of Sakayanagi Arisu's hand due to the beer theft incident.

He had simply handed her the beer he'd just taken from the shelf and casually dropped a few hints.

He told her to be more careful and not to get tricked by any bad women.

She should understand what he meant.

After all, she is a student in Class A; her intelligence should be at a basic level.

Probably.

Shimizu Akira went to the office again in the morning for a private talk with Chabashira Sae.

Chabashira Sae explained the outcome of the previous report incident and transferred 50,000 private points into his account.

Although she didn't say it explicitly, the implication was clear—this was hush money.

Shimizu Akira accepted the arrangement readily.

After all, his original intention in reporting the incident was to test the school's bottom line regarding rules and regulations through Chabashira Sae.

Since the goal had been achieved, there was no need to dwell on the matter any further.

Shimizu Akira even transferred 15,000 points back to her.

This included the cost of the canned beer—less than 300 yen per can, totaling about 5,000 points.

The remaining 10,000 points were a reward for running the errand.

His net profit for this event was 85,000 points.

Combined with the 50,000 points as a reward and his original 100,000 points, Shimizu Akira currently had 235,000 points.

Chabashira Sae mentioned offhandedly, "Who is the opponent you lost the bet to?"

"Sakayanagi Arisu from Class A," Shimizu Akira answered casually.

Before he even finished speaking, he noticed that Chabashira Sae's expression was quite remarkable.

A strange light flashed in her eyes—a complex emotion mixed with surprise, anticipation, and even a faint sense of excitement.

She parted her lips slightly, as if she wanted to say something important, but in the end, she only muttered, "Let's... wait until a month has passed." This sentence sounded like it was meant for Shimizu Akira, yet also like a warning to herself.

As he was leaving, Chabashira Sae suddenly broke from her usual character and urged, "Use your... private points sparingly."

Her tone carried a rare hint of concern, a stark contrast to her usual cold demeanor.

Shimizu Akira sounded an alarm in his heart.

When someone who is usually cold suddenly shows you kindness, there must be a carefully calculated motive hidden behind that gentleness.

But for now, he couldn't see what kind of scheme was hidden behind that mild mask.

Shimizu Akira shook his head, deciding to set these doubts aside for the time being.

At the end of the day, Chabashira Sae was still the homeroom teacher for Class D.

Even if she had ulterior motives, she shouldn't do anything to harm her own students—at least on the surface, the interests of the teacher and the students were aligned.

The first check-in for new students was to complete the move-in procedures.

When Shimizu Akira followed the map to the freshman dormitory area, the building before him made him pause—what stood before him was a modern, high-end apartment complex.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, one could vaguely see the minimalist and comfortable interior, which perfectly confirmed the promise in the enrollment manual: all students would enjoy a private room.

In his memories of high school, the word "dormitory" was always associated with eight-person rooms, crowded iron bunk beds, and lockers that were never enough.

Growing up, this was the first time he would have a room of his own as a student.

He felt a little excited for no reason.

Shimizu Akira stood in the line to complete the move-in procedures.

He suddenly realized that this apartment building was actually co-ed.

On the wall to the side, the Student Dormitory Regulations were neatly posted in black text on a white background.

Regarding the "Student Code of Conduct," the school neither explicitly forbade romantic relationships between students nor set any specific restrictions, merely stating in a single ambiguous line: "Relationships inconsistent with the status of a high school student are prohibited."

(This phrasing is practically a play on words...)

Shimizu Akira muttered to himself.

What exactly does "inconsistent with the status" mean? Is it implying a ban on teacher-student romances? Or does it mean anything goes as long as it doesn't interfere with academics?

When his peripheral vision swept over a vending machine in the corner, he saw it—the machine was prominently stocked with various types of condoms.

(I see... not forbidden, but one must be mindful of safety? Does it just mean as long as you don't get anyone pregnant?!)

The line moved quickly, and it was soon his turn to process the paperwork.

After confirming he had been assigned to Room 402, the meticulous Shimizu Akira specifically asked about utility bills and rent.

"All expenses incurred from accommodation are covered entirely by the school, student," the staff member explained kindly. "Just be careful not to be overly wasteful."

This answer made Shimizu Akira click his tongue—the dormitory conditions were almost suspiciously good.

On second thought, perhaps this was a carefully designed safeguard by the school: even if a student exhausted their monthly points, they would at least be guaranteed basic housing.

Shimizu Akira rubbed the key card in his hand thoughtfully, then asked as if something had just occurred to him: "Excuse me, is there only one key card? If it were to be lost..."

The staff member pushed up his glasses slightly and explained in a gentle tone: "The standard configuration is indeed only one primary card. However..." He paused deliberately, "as long as you provide the relevant documentation, a secondary card can be issued for a specific individual."

Noticing Shimizu Akira's slightly surprised expression, a knowing smile appeared on the staff member's face: "Whether it's a best friend or a lover, as long as both parties agree, you can apply for one." He added meaningfully, "Of course, all of this must be based on complete consent."

"I see, thank you for the explanation." Shimizu Akira nodded politely.

Although his current situation meant he had no use for this service for the time being, he was still quite surprised by the school's open-minded management style.

He wondered what the criteria for such recognition were; surely it couldn't be as simple as any girl claiming to be his girlfriend and walking away with a key card.

014 A Chance Encounter with the Reclusive Ayanokouji Kiyotaka

Just as Shimizu Akira was about to press his key card against the sensor for Room 402, the door to Room 401 next door slid open silently.

A boy with short brown hair stepped out, expressionless, and the two locked eyes in the narrow hallway.

Shimizu Akira immediately recognized him as his classmate, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

The boy who had been exceptionally awkward during self-introductions and was "so introverted it was worrying"—at least, that was how Ike Kanji had described him.

Ayanokouji's gaze was as calm as stagnant water; there was no surprise at encountering a classmate, nor any intention to initiate a greeting.

Shimizu Akira's hand, holding the key card, paused slightly.

The aura emanating from the boy before him wasn't so much introversion as it was an unfathomable reserve.

It was like an undercurrent flowing beneath a calm sea; the surface was undisturbed, yet one instinctively felt a sense of danger.

While introversion and reserve might sound similar, their meanings were entirely different.

Introversion is the fear of expressing oneself, while reserve is the choice not to.

The classmate before him was clearly the latter.

(This Ayanokouji... he doesn't seem that simple either. Could it be? Are all the other students in Class D actually hidden talents?)

In the moment he was lost in thought, Ayanokouji had already begun walking toward the elevator with steps as precise as a machine.

Shimizu Akira finally withdrew his gaze.

After all, they were classmates, with only Horikita Suzune separating them; there would be plenty of opportunities to talk in the future.

Shimizu Akira turned and gently pulled his door shut. With a soft "click," he officially stepped into what would soon become his private space.

Looking around, sunlight streamed through the bright windows, the private bathroom was clean and tidy, and an air conditioner hung quietly on the wall.

The living conditions were far better than he had anticipated.

Shimizu Akira's gaze was drawn to the landline telephone on the small bedside table.

With a bit of curiosity, he flipped through the dormitory manual provided by the front desk.

His eyes scanned quickly over the trash sorting schedule and daily rules, finally stopping at a special note:

"The landline in each room can directly contact front desk services. In case of emergency, you may contact classmates."

This discovery made his eyes widen slightly.

In case of emergency? Did that mean if one didn't have enough points to pay for a phone bill, they couldn't make calls?

If every room was equipped with the same landline, and the front desk had all student information on file... this meant that, provided he had a valid reason, he could theoretically be connected to any student in his grade through the front desk.

However, given Shimizu Akira's current social circle, this service wouldn't be of much use—he could count the classmates he knew on one hand.

(I have a feeling I'll be able to use this someday...)

He kept this discovery in the back of his mind without showing it.

The April weather already carried the sweltering heat of early summer, and Shimizu Akira felt a thin layer of sweat on his back.

Although the dormitory was stiflingly hot, adhering to his principle of exercising like a One Punch Man and not using the air conditioner, he decided to take a cold shower.

Ten minutes later, after a quick rinse, Shimizu Akira stood in the mist of the bathroom and wiped the water droplets off the mirror.

In the swirling steam, his young body was faintly visible—his six-pack abs were clearly defined but not overly exaggerated, a typical physique for an Asian male.

Unlike the oppressive, blocky muscles of Western bodybuilders, his physique was closer to that of a streamlined cheetah, with every muscle fiber exuding a refined sense of aesthetic beauty.

The steam in the bathroom gradually dissipated as he wiped the water droplets from his body.

His morning workout was already complete, and having just showered, he had no intention of starting another training session today.

Shimizu Akira pulled on a loose T-shirt and tossed his discarded school uniform into the laundry basket.

After picking up a broom to give the floor a quick sweep, he noticed the sunlight outside the window had already become scorching.

The time on his phone pointed to 11:30, and his stomach let out a timely sound of protest.

"Time to go eat."

Shimizu Akira nimbly pulled on his uniform trousers, tied his shoelaces, and grabbed the dormitory door on his way out.

The early summer breeze, carrying the sound of cicadas, drifted in through the window at the end of the hallway.

He decided to check out the cafeteria for lunch today.

After all, it was the first day of school and his points were still plentiful, so there was no need to agonize over the choice between rice balls and bread in front of a convenience store refrigerated display.

As someone from China, Shimizu Akira had never been able to adapt to the Japanese dietary habit of gnawing on bread for breakfast and swallowing rice balls for lunch.

He wanted to eat steaming hot food whenever possible—whether it was a piping hot bowl of noodle soup or freshly stir-fried rice, only that familiar hot meal settling in his stomach could give him a genuine sense of satisfaction from "eating."

Pushing open the heavy glass doors of the cafeteria, Shimizu Akira paused for a moment as the incoming wave of noise washed over him.

This spacious area, with a ceiling nearly two stories high, was far larger than he had imagined—neatly arranged light-colored tables extended into the distance like a chessboard, and at a rough estimate, it could accommodate at least four or five hundred people.

He recalled the data from the enrollment handbook: four classes per grade, forty students per class, totaling 480 students across all three grades.

The lines for food were still quite long, and Shimizu Akira noticed a window in the corner offering free set meals.

There was no sign posted in front of this window stating "limit three per person"—after all, the school couldn't very well let students with zero points actually starve.

In stark contrast to the crowded paid windows, there were only a few scattered upperclassmen in front of the free window.

Shimizu Akira pondered to himself: those who had already been reduced to eating the free set meals on the very first day of school were likely seniors from Class D.