The Real Competition Has Just Begun

Yamada's face soured as he turned to exchange a glance with his companion behind him.

His companion, Saito, stepped forward: "Junior, you should know that the school won't deposit new points until the first of next month. If you lose everything this month, you'll be stuck eating the vegetable set meal (the school's free offering, just vegetables with no meat at all)."

"There's no need for Senior to worry about that. Or is it that Senior doesn't dare to bet?"

As a specially invited student to this school, even if Sakamoto lost every single point he had, he wouldn't need to worry about his living situation deteriorating. If he wanted, he could live more comfortably than anyone on campus except Sakayanagi—though he didn't actually do so.

"What a joke! You think I'm scared of a freshman like you? Bring it on!"

Yamada's anger flared up, and he finally couldn't hold back his impulsive urge to accept the bet against Sakamoto.

"In that case, to prevent Senior from reneging after losing, let's go find a teacher and sign an agreement." Sakamoto was acting entirely with the intent to provoke his opponent.

After all, as a mere appetizer before the real match, this caliber of opponent was truly mediocre. If this guy hadn't suddenly charged in, using him as a scapegoat to vent his anger, Sakamoto wouldn't have bothered with him at all—and naturally, he saw no need to give him any face.

"Hmph." Yamada let out a grunt from his nose in agreement.

His companion Saito, however, felt a bit uneasy. The other party clearly didn't take them seriously at all. Given this junior's behavior just now, there was no way he was the kind of person who would kindly give away all his points to a stranger. So there was only one possibility: he was also skilled at chess.

But who was better—him, or the two of them together?

That's right, it was Yamada and Saito, the two of them. Because of Yamada's personality, he had almost no close friends, and Saito was his only friend and rival. The two knew each other well. To deal with opponents in matches, they had specifically trained in tacit understanding. When playing chess, as long as one stood beside the other, they could communicate through gestures, eye movements, and lip movements without the opponent noticing—fighting two against one!

This was the real confidence behind Yamada daring to sign the agreement!

And also, because he didn't have enough points himself. Over the past year, Yamada had only managed to save up 130,000 personal points. Not only did he have to spend points on various exams, but he also had to hand over most of them to Nagumo Miyabi, who ruled over the entire second year. So having 130,000 left was already the result of his hard work.

Soon, Yamada found a teacher who served as a tool in the club office.

Under the teacher's witness, the two parties signed an agreement.

The general rule was that they would bet on a chess match, and the winner would take all of the loser's personal points.

"Hah~"

After writing his name, "Let's begin."

Yamada put down his pen heavily, propped his hands on the table, and stared straight at Sakamoto like a gorilla stranded on a deserted island who suddenly spotted a golden banana on the beach, eager to shove it into his mouth, peel and all.

Saito, who had naturally positioned himself behind Sakamoto, also signaled with his eyes.

Both of them began to fantasize about the look of anguish on their junior's face when he lost all his points.

Sakamoto sat down calmly, watching Yamada's constant little movements. Clearly, these two were highly tacit partners. This kind of two-person tactic—having to focus on the board while also keeping an eye on their communication—was indeed hard for an ordinary person to handle. But unfortunately, this match was decided before it even began.

From a very young age, Sakamoto had easily defeated Sakayanagi Arisu, who was then called a chess prodigy. At that time, Sakayanagi was already on par with an average adult in chess. The growth of a genius is always incomprehensible.

So just how good his chess was now—Sakamoto himself didn't have a clear concept. Because his opponents were all too weak.

Last time, some guy claiming to be the national high school chess champion of Japan came to play a friendly match with him. After just three games, the guy burst into tears and begged to become Sakamoto's disciple.

Beneath the specially swapped brown-tinted glasses, the two couldn't see Sakamoto's expression at all.

The match had already begun. As the sound of chess pieces falling rang out, it signaled the start of the three minds in motion.

But just a few moves in, Yamada found it extremely difficult to handle. He could barely see any openings in his opponent's formation, and the only weak point was an obvious trap.

That kind of trap—no one would fall for it, right? Only animals would walk straight into a trap, like some canine that sees a bear trap, steps on it without any caution, gets its body pierced by the cold iron spikes, and can't shake the trap off, limping along while dragging that bloodthirsty chunk of metal.

Saito, as the third party, felt it the most deeply. In this match, there was only the opponent at first, but the moment the piece fell, Sakamoto became the hunter, and he was treated as the prey—no, it felt like being treated as a toy.

He stared at Sakamoto's back. Though he couldn't see his face, he could fully imagine an expression of watching to see if an animal would fall into a trap.

Fourth move, fifth, sixth—this way, no, how the hell should he play!?

The two's communication grew more and more strained. Beads of cold sweat suddenly appeared on their foreheads.

Yet Sakamoto, sitting across from them, wore a calm, smiling expression that, to Yamada and Saito, seemed like that of an unfathomable schemer.

"Checkmate!"

Yamada slumped weakly into his chair, his eyes unfocused.

He had been cornered at every step, completely unable to find a way out. This feeling...

"I lost. I'll transfer all my points to you." Yamada accepted his defeat wholeheartedly and prepared to hand over all 130,000 points he had left.

"Wait! Me too!" Saito spoke up excitedly.

"Actually, the two of us played this match together. I thought that with me and Yamada, both chess experts, we wouldn't have any opponents.

But after playing against you, I realized what it means to find someone better. This despicable behavior of ours deserves to be scorned. So please take my points as well."

Frogs at the bottom of a well mock their companions for trying to climb out, but when they see an eagle in the sky, they only feel envy and admiration, aware of their own insignificance.

Saito and Yamada, those two frogs at the bottom of the well, now looked unusually solemn. For them, every second felt agonizingly slow.

Beneath the brown-tinted glasses, Sakamoto's eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts.

"No, I won't take a single point from either of you." He gently adjusted the brown-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Since the two of you have been playing this game together from the very beginning," Sakamoto said softly, picking up the contract bearing his own signature from the table.

Rip. He tore the paper in two.

"Then this contract is void." Sakamoto offered a gentle smile.

Chapter 7: The Real Match Has Only Just Begun