Accumulation

The surrounding gazes instantly converged.

Hoshino Kanade held his phone, the unlock screen glowing.

Without a moment's hesitation, he entered the lock screen password he had just "overheard" from Hoshinomiya.

The device unlocked successfully. His movements were swift and professional, and those around him watched with bated breath.

Soon, his pupils contracted sharply, and his expression darkened completely.

He flipped the screen around to face Hoshinomiya and the onlookers—the screen displayed not just one or two, but hundreds, perhaps thousands of photos of female students, all taken from hidden angles; it was clearly the result of voyeurism!

He then opened a hidden, private social app. The logged-in account was filled with explicit sexual harassment and personal safety threats directed at one of the school's female students (whose face was pixelated, but whose silhouette and features were recognizable enough to her classmates)!

"Tsk..." The sweet smile on Hoshinomiya's face vanished entirely, replaced by an unprecedented coldness and fury. "The evidence is irrefutable! This isn't just voyeurism; it's a serious crime!"

Hoshino Kanade did not hesitate, immediately using his own phone to dial the emergency contact number: "Hello! I am near the electronics store! Our school's teacher, Hoshinomiya, has been targeted by a store clerk here. We have discovered a large number of photos of our students and evidence of sexual harassment and threats on his phone! We request that school security and the police intervene immediately!"

The subsequent developments followed a natural course.

With Hoshinomiya decisively utilizing her teacher authority to cooperate, the police intervened, and Sakura Airi was privately and securely summoned to provide a key identification.

The eyewitness testimony, physical evidence, and chain of motive were complete.

The future of that sleazy clerk was already clearly visible: what awaited him would certainly not be a simple verbal warning or short-term detention.

With multiple crimes being prosecuted together, a prison sentence was a certainty—conservatively estimated, he wouldn't be stepping back into society for at least five years, let alone coming anywhere near this campus.

Hoshino Kanade watched as the clerk was led away, feeling a sense of calm within.

This disturbance had been extinguished into nothingness, and the potential threat to Sakura Airi had been completely eradicated.

At the same time, this was a perfect drill—how to utilize status, information asymmetry, and controllable "coincidences" to efficiently clear away the buds of danger within the rules.

For the sake of Kiyona, and for the sake of his own potential "future," he needed this kind of preparation.

The afternoon sun slanted into the Class D classroom, and the air was filled with a lingering, oppressive gloom.

The podium was empty, and the usual bustle between the desks was absent.

For three consecutive months—May, June, and now this sweltering July—the glaring "0" of the class points had been branded onto everyone's terminal screens, and onto everyone's hearts.

The days without personal points being deposited had pushed these boys and girls to the limits of their endurance.

The cheapest set meal in the cafeteria had become a luxury, the cold drinks in the vending machines were an unreachable longing, and even wanting to replace a pen refill required careful deliberation.

The low-quality toiletries and monotonous, bland food provided for free wore down their patience day after day, and suppressed sighs and the protest of rumbling stomachs could often be heard in the classroom.

Every time they checked their phone balances during breaks, that unchanging "0" felt like a bucket of cold water, and despair and irritability spread in silence.

During this period, there hadn't even been a single special exam that allowed everyone to catch their breath or gain even a few class points; even the final exams seemed a long way off.

Everyone was bottling up a fire inside, a near-paranoid craving—if, if there really were an opportunity ahead, no matter what kind of exam it was, as long as it could touch those tempting class points or personal points, this group in Class D would likely go to any lengths to fight for it, to grab that straw of salvation.

"Snap."

An open math workbook was gently placed on Ike Kanji's desk.

Ike was spinning his pen in boredom, his eyes unfocused.

"Ike-kun," Horikita Suzune's cold voice rang out beside him. She leaned over slightly, her finger tapping on a few problems circled in red ink in the workbook. "These types of problems are where you repeatedly made mistakes during last week's quiz."

"There isn't much time left until the next exam. You don't want to be expelled for failing, do you?" Her tone was calm, devoid of threats, merely stating a cold fact, yet her gaze carried an unquestionable scrutiny as she looked straight into Ike's eyes.

Ike Kanji's body stiffened, and his pen-spinning stopped.

He looked up to meet Horikita's gaze; there was no mockery in it, only a near-formulaic seriousness.

That phrase, "You don't want to fail the exam and get expelled, do you?" was like a small thorn, precisely piercing the nerves he had been growing increasingly anxious about due to the zero points.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he just scratched his hair in frustration and muttered, "I know, I know... geez..." yet he still resignedly opened the workbook.

Horikita straightened up and scanned the "study corner" temporarily pieced together in the corner of the classroom.

Sitting there were a few classmates with weak foundations, just like Ike.

She was no longer the aloof girl who would only watch coldly, believing it was only natural for those who dragged the class down to be expelled.

She had begun to clumsily "manage" and "help" in her own way—organizing after-school study groups, analyzing everyone's weak points, and using the most direct (and sometimes seemingly blunt) words to wake them up to their potential crises.

Although she was still not good at offering words of encouragement, this "reminder" that went straight to the core was unexpectedly effective in the face of survival pressure.

Her gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Kushida Kikyo, who was chatting softly with a few girls, her smile so sweet it seemed capable of melting ice.

A subtle emotion flashed in the depths of Horikita's eyes, too fast to be captured.

Once upon a time, merely opening her mouth to ask this "angel" for assistance with class affairs would have filled Horikita with a sense of intense humiliation, as if she were bowing to rules she despised.

Horikita knew better than anyone the sharpness hidden beneath Kushida's impeccable social mask. But now... things seemed a bit different.

Horikita walked over and stopped a few steps away from Kushida.

"Kushida-san," her voice was not loud, but enough for the other to hear, "regarding the coordination of the study group for next week, could you please help me confirm the list and the time?" Her tone was businesslike and flat.

Kushida Kikyo turned her head, the smile on her face unchanged, still dazzlingly bright. "Of course, no problem, Horikita-san! Leave it to me!" She agreed readily, even proactively adding, "Do you want me to talk to those few classmates who aren't very proactive in advance? I guarantee I'll get them all to attend on time!" Her tone was enthusiastic, as if this were the thing she most enjoyed doing.

"Mm, sorry for the trouble." Horikita nodded, said nothing more, and turned to walk away.

Her heart... was unexpectedly calm.

There was no anticipated resistance, nor the feeling of being stung by that hypocritical smile.

Asking Kushida for help, it seemed, really... was nothing to be humiliated about anymore.

Horikita thought as she walked. Was it because she had grown accustomed to it? Or because she had clearly recognized their respective positions and boundaries? Or perhaps, she had come to understand that while struggling in the quagmire of Class D, Kushida's vast and efficient social network was indeed a weapon that she, Horikita Suzune, could never reach no matter how hard she tried.

Although she had been working hard to change, trying to understand what "socializing" was all about, and trying not to push people away, her innate sense of detachment and lack of approachability made her far inferior to the gentle, rain-like influence of Kushida Kikyo when it came to uniting people and disseminating information.

Since she had recognized this reality, then, in order for the class to hold on in this desperate situation and to seize that slim chance of rising, making rational use of all available resources at hand, including the power of Kushida Kikyo, became a matter-of-course choice.

Therefore, the number of times she asked Kushida for help had increased significantly.

Organizing activities, gathering information, mediating conflicts... these tasks that Horikita found clumsy and inefficient were always resolved quickly when left to Kushida.

Although a trace of imperceptible coldness still flickered in the depths of Horikita's heart every time she saw Kushida's perfect smile, this "convenience" was indeed helping the machine that was Class D, which was on the verge of falling apart, maintain a minimum level of operation while waiting for a turning point that no one knew when would arrive.

After all, in an abyss of zero points, any glimmer of light was worth grabbing, even if that light came from someone she did not trust.

The surrounding gazes instantly converged.

Hoshino Kanade held his phone, the unlocked interface glowing.

He input the lock screen password he had just "heard" from Hoshinomiya without hesitation.

The unlock was successful; his movements were agile and professional, and the people around held their breath as they watched.

Soon, his pupils contracted sharply, and his expression darkened completely.

He flipped the screen to face Hoshinomiya and the onlookers—the screen displayed not just one or two, but hundreds of photos of female students, taken from hidden angles; they were clearly candid shots!

He then opened a hidden, private social app, and the logged-in account was filled with explicit sexual harassment and personal safety threats directed at one of the school's female students (whose face was mosaicked, but whose silhouette and features were enough for classmates to recognize)!

"Tsk..." The sweet smile on Hoshinomiya's face vanished completely, replaced by an unprecedented coldness and anger. "The evidence is irrefutable! This is not just voyeurism; it is a serious crime!"

Hoshino Kanade did not hesitate and immediately dialed the emergency contact number on his own phone: "Hello! This is near the electronics store! A store clerk here has been caught taking candid photos of our school's teacher, Hoshinomiya, and we have discovered a large number of photos of female students from our school on his phone, along with evidence involving sexual harassment and threats against students! We request that school security and the police intervene immediately!"

The subsequent developments followed naturally.

With Hoshinomiya's decisive use of her teacher authority to cooperate, the police intervened, and Sakura Airi was privately and securely summoned to provide key identification.

The witness testimony, physical evidence, and chain of motive were complete.

The future of that lecherous clerk was already clearly visible: what awaited him would certainly not be a simple verbal warning or short-term detention.

With multiple crimes being punished together, a prison sentence was a foregone conclusion—conservatively estimated, he wouldn't be stepping back into society within five years, let alone coming anywhere near this campus.

Hoshino Kanade watched as the clerk was escorted away, his heart at peace.

This disturbance was extinguished into nothingness, and the potential threat to Sakura Airi was completely eradicated.

At the same time, this was also a perfect drill—how to use status, information asymmetry, and controllable "coincidences" to efficiently nip dangers in the bud within the rules.

For Kiyona, and for his own potential "future," he needed such preparations.

The afternoon sun shone obliquely into the Class D classroom, and the air was filled with a lingering sense of gloom.

The podium was empty, and the usual noise between the desks and chairs was rare.

For three consecutive months—May, June, and now this sweltering July—the glaring "0" of the class points was branded onto everyone's terminal screen, and also branded onto everyone's hearts.

Days without personal points being credited had pushed these boys and girls to the limit of their patience.

The cheapest set meal in the cafeteria had become a luxury, the cold drinks in the vending machines were an unreachable desire, and even wanting to replace a new pen refill required careful consideration.

The free, low-quality toiletries and monotonous, bland food wore down their patience day after day, and suppressed sighs and the protests of growling stomachs could often be heard in the classroom.

Every time they checked their balance on their phones during breaks, that unchanging "0" felt like a bucket of cold water being poured over them, and despair and irritability spread in silence.

During this period, there hadn't even been a single special exam that could let everyone catch their breath or gain even a little bit of class points, and even the final exams seemed far off.

Everyone was holding a fire in their hearts, a near-paranoid desire—if, if there really were an opportunity ahead, no matter what kind of exam it was, as long as it could touch those tempting class points or personal points, the people of Class D would likely go all out to fight for it, to grab that straw of salvation.

"Thwack."

An open math workbook was gently placed on Ike Kanji's desk.

Ike was spinning his pen in boredom, his eyes unfocused.

"Ike-kun," Horikita Suzune's cold voice sounded beside him. She leaned over slightly, her finger tapping on a few wrong answers circled in red ink in the workbook. "These types of problems are where you repeatedly made mistakes in last week's quiz."

"There isn't much time left until the next exam, and you don't want to be expelled for failing, do you?" Her tone was very calm, without threats, just stating a cold fact, but her gaze carried an unquestionable scrutiny as she looked straight into Ike's eyes.

Ike Kanji's body stiffened, and his pen-spinning stopped.

He looked up to meet Horikita's gaze, in which there was no mockery, only a near-formulaic seriousness.

That sentence, "You don't want to fail the exam and be expelled, do you?" was like a small thorn, precisely piercing the nerves he had been growing increasingly anxious about due to the zero points.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he just scratched his hair in frustration and muttered, "Got it, got it... geez..." yet he still resignedly opened the workbook.

Horikita straightened up and scanned the "study corner" temporarily pieced together in the corner of the classroom.

Sitting there were a few classmates with weak foundations like Ike.

The current her was no longer that aloof girl who would only watch coldly from the sidelines, believing that it was only natural for those who held the class back to be expelled.

She began to "manage" and "help" in her own clumsy way—organizing after-school study groups, analyzing everyone's weaknesses, and using the most direct (and sometimes even blunt) words to wake them up to their potential crises.

Although she was still not good at offering words of encouragement, this kind of "reminder" that struck straight to the core proved unexpectedly effective in the face of survival pressure.

Her gaze swept across the crowd and landed on Kushida Kikyo, who was chatting softly with a few girls, her smile so sweet it seemed capable of melting ice.

A trace of an extremely subtle emotion flashed through Horikita's eyes, too fast to be captured.

Once upon a time, even just opening her mouth to ask this "angel" for assistance with class affairs would have caused a strong sense of humiliation to well up inside Horikita, as if she were bowing to rules she detested.

Horikita knew better than anyone the sharpness hidden beneath Kushida's impeccable social mask. But now... things seemed a bit different.

Horikita walked over and stopped a few steps away from Kushida.

"Kushida-san," her voice was not loud, but it was enough for the other girl to hear, "regarding the coordination of the study group sessions for next week, could you please help me confirm the list and the times?" Her tone was businesslike and flat.

Kushida Kikyo turned her head, the smile on her face not changing in the slightest, still dazzlingly bright: "Of course, no problem, Horikita-san! Leave it to me!" She agreed readily, even proactively adding, "Do you need me to have a chat with those few students who aren't very proactive beforehand? I guarantee I'll get them all to attend on time!" Her tone was overflowing with enthusiasm, as if this were the thing she most enjoyed doing.

"Mm, thank you for the trouble." Horikita nodded, said nothing more, and turned to walk away.

Her heart... was unexpectedly calm.

There was no anticipated resistance, nor was there the feeling of being stung by that hypocritical smile.

Asking Kushida for help, it seemed... there really was nothing humiliating about it anymore.

Horikita thought as she walked. Was it because she had gotten used to it? Or because she had clearly seen their respective positions and boundaries? Or perhaps, it was because she understood that while struggling in the quagmire of Class D, Kushida's vast and efficient social network was a weapon that she, Horikita Suzune, could never reach no matter how hard she tried.

Although she was already trying hard to make changes, attempting to understand what "socializing" was all about, and trying not to push people away, her innate sense of detachment and lack of approachability meant that in terms of uniting people and conveying information, she was far inferior to Kushida Kikyo's gentle, rain-like methods.

Since she had recognized this reality, then, in order for the class to hold on in this desperate situation and to seize that slim chance of rising, rationally utilizing every available resource at hand, including the power of Kushida Kikyo, had become a matter-of-course choice.

Therefore, the number of times she asked Kushida for help had clearly increased.

Organizing activities, collecting information, mediating conflicts... things that Horikita did clumsily and inefficiently were always resolved quickly when handed over to Kushida.

Although a trace of imperceptible coldness still flickered in the depths of Horikita's heart every time she saw Kushida's perfect smile, this "convenience" was indeed helping the machine that was Class D, which was on the verge of falling apart, maintain a minimum level of operation while waiting for a turning point that no one knew when would arrive.

After all, in the abyss of zero points, any glimmer of light was worth grasping, even if that light came from someone she did not trust.