The Answer the Day Before the Midterm Exam

She slowed her speech, no longer mentioning "making friends," but instead began chatting about books.

She asked Hiyori Shiina what kind of books she liked to read and if she had come across any interesting works lately.

The topic returned to Hiyori Shiina's comfort zone; although she still didn't speak much and her answers were brief, her eyes would brighten slightly whenever mystery novels were mentioned, and she would occasionally offer a few more insights into an author's style or a specific trick.

Kikyo Kushida was an excellent listener and conversation guide; even if she hadn't studied mystery deeply herself, she could always pick up on Hiyori Shiina's threads, ensuring the conversation never hit a lull.

The atmosphere gradually softened, even becoming somewhat harmonious.

Lin Mu sat opposite the two, the cafeteria's new eel rice set in front of him, with an extra portion of eel he had specifically ordered.

The rich, tender eel was grilled to perfection, coated in a thick, savory-sweet sauce and laid over individual grains of rice, accompanied by a silky chawanmushi and refreshing pickles.

(The eel rice is really delicious, but the sauce is a bit cloyingly sweet when there's too much.)

He picked up his chopsticks at a leisurely pace and popped a large piece of eel into his mouth, feeling the sweet aroma of the sauce and the richness of the fish melt on his taste buds, squinting in satisfaction.

Watching the two girls across from him transition from slight awkwardness to actually being able to chat, he felt an inexplicable sense of... relief at being excluded from the conversation?

Still, this wasn't bad; it allowed him to focus on enjoying his food without the mental effort of participating in the social interaction on the side.

He shrugged, pouring his full attention into the eel rice before him, occasionally picking up his miso soup for a sip.

He treated the soft whispers across from him as background music for his meal, eating with single-minded focus.

(Eat-eat-eat)

After lunch, the three parted ways at the cafeteria entrance.

Hiyori Shiina clutched her books and whispered, "I'm heading back to the library," before turning to leave, her silver hair fluttering gently in the afternoon breeze.

Kikyo Kushida waved at Lin Mu, her face once again filled with fighting spirit: "I'm going to go think of a way to keep the study group going! See you later, Lin Mu!"

Lin Mu nodded, watching them head in different directions before wandering back to his dorm to continue his unwavering afternoon nap (slacking off) time.

Days continued as usual; the quiet of the library, the food in the cafeteria, the occasional fortune-telling business, and his shallow but steady interactions with Hiyori Shiina and Kikyo Kushida formed the main melody of his school life.

It wasn't until the day before the midterm exams that this superficial calm was completely shattered, and the Class D classroom fell into an unprecedented, bizarre atmosphere mixed with ecstasy, anxiety, and illusory hope.

The Class D classroom was unusually quiet that day.

Gone were the usual noise, complaints, and requests for loans; everyone's gaze was drawn like a magnet to Kikyo Kushida, who had just returned from outside.

Kikyo was holding a stack of papers that weren't particularly thick but were clearly important, her face wearing an expression that mixed solemnity, nervousness, and a hint of relief.

She walked quickly to the podium and, without a word, began distributing the papers to the students nearest to her, urging them in a hurried tone:

"Everyone, put these away quickly! Go back and study them well, memorize them! We must get good grades this time and earn class points! This is our last chance!"

Her voice trembled slightly with excitement.

Those who received the papers took one look, and their faces were instantly replaced by incredulous ecstasy!

It was the answer key for this midterm exam!

Clear, complete, and categorized by subject!

"Is... is this real?!"

"Kikyo-chan! Thank you so much!"

"We're saved! We're actually saved!"

"Quick, quick, pass it over so I can see!"

The classroom instantly boiled over! It was like pouring a bucket of ice water into a pot of hot oil—it exploded!

Those who received the answers were ecstatic, thanking Kikyo Kushida repeatedly, acting as if she were some kind of savior.

The papers were passed around rapidly, and everyone clutched them tightly as if they were priceless treasures.

Their eyes were glued to the words, as if they wanted to carve every punctuation mark into their brains.

Having the answers meant they could pass the midterm exams!

It meant they wouldn't be expelled! It meant Class D might earn class points next month!

It meant the school would distribute personal points again!

They could finally escape the desperate plight of relying on free supplies and borrowing money everywhere!

The flame of hope was ignited by this thin piece of paper, burning fiercely, almost consuming all reason and doubt.

Lin Mu remained in his seat, watching the absurd yet understandable revelry before him with cold eyes.

He had a grape-flavored lollipop in his mouth, the sweet and sour taste spreading on his tongue, but there was no ripple in his eyes, only a hint of imperceptible mockery.

He felt that this was nothing more than a straw thrown by the school to a group of people about to drown—a straw that looked sturdy but might snap at the slightest pull.

He understood the operating rules of this school.

If the system really had such an obvious loophole where exam answers could be easily obtained, and it allowed students to collectively "pass" in this manner, then the so-called "Meritocracy" would become a massive joke.

If that were the case, everyone would just look for exploits and bugs; who would bother to study?

This so-called "answer key" felt more like a... safety net? Or perhaps a one-time act of "mercy"?

After all, having a class that had only just enrolled face mass expulsion due to a zero-point score and a single final exam would certainly do no favors for the school's reputation or stability.

Giving them one "chance" to seize for themselves—if they couldn't grasp it, then they had no one else to blame.

After distributing most of the answer keys, Kikyo Kushida walked over with one in hand, her face still flushed with lingering excitement.

She gently placed the answer key on the corner of Lin Mu's desk, her voice still trembling slightly, yet filled with concern:

"Lin Mu, here you go. Hurry and take a look, memorize it well. This time... this time our class really has a chance!"

Lin Mu lowered the hand supporting his chin, picked up the answer key, and flipped through it casually.

The questions on it were as simple as elementary school arithmetic to him; although he didn't consider himself a genius, possessing superpowers meant he also possessed a photographic memory.

Having glanced at it once, he had already memorized it completely, to the point where he didn't even have the interest to look at it a second time.

"Mm, got it."

He replied with a hum and casually folded the answer sheet—which everyone else viewed as a life-saving straw—a few times.

He shoved it into the deepest corner of his desk drawer, leaving it to gather dust in the darkness alongside a few textbooks he had never opened and some empty candy wrappers.

In the classroom, some were already impatiently racing against time to memorize the answers, muttering under their breath with expressions as devout as believers reciting scripture.

Others gathered in small groups of three or five, quizzing each other and checking facts, the atmosphere as heated as a pre-battle mobilization.

Of course, there were a few exceptions, such as Yosuke Hirata, who merely stared at the answer key with a grave expression and furrowed brows, seemingly contemplating something deeper.

Then there was Suzune Horikita, who gave the answer key a cold glance after receiving it before putting it away without a change in expression, her eyes even carrying a hint of disdain.

And then there was Kiyotaka Ayanokoji, who remained sitting quietly in his seat, as if what he held in his hand wasn't an answer key, but a common flyer.

The hope of Class D relying on this sudden "answer key" to pass the midterm exam.

Amidst this busy, fanatical, yet illusory sound of rote memorization, it was like a soap bubble under the sun, refracting a brilliant yet fragile light.

In the fragments of the future he could "see," this exam would likely not settle as simply as these people hoped.

But then again, so what?

He only needed to ensure he passed safely.

As for the rest, he would just wait and see.