Classroom of the Mediocre Supremacist

Karuizawa Kei said this, clearly hiding something.

However, as friends, they weren't low enough to pry into the couple's private affairs.

Since Karuizawa Kei currently looked very happy, all they could do was silently wish her well.

High school romances often die off with graduation—hopefully her feelings with Hoshino would last!

First Semester of First Year:

Chapter 26 | 025.5 Karuizawa Chapter: Karuizawa Kei Wants to Dedicate Herself

I've been cute for as long as I can remember.

That's not me bragging. Most boys who approached me had a crush on me, and even teachers would cut me some slack because of my adorable appearance.

But I knew that wasn't enough. Favor gained solely through looks wasn't genuine goodwill. Their "goodwill" always came with their own agendas: undisguised curiosity in the eyes of peers, hidden tests behind seniors' concern, and certain teachers' partiality that felt more like an attempt to trade "special treatment" for an invisible dependency...

To be honest, I used to be smug about being liked by most boys. But when I realized the truth behind that "liking," all I felt was deep disgust and fear.

So I wanted to become stronger—not relying on my looks to be favored, but on something deeper: academic ability, insight, physical strength, wisdom, and social skills...

And so, I began to study hard.

And so, I became a dazzling presence among the crowd.

Boys my age no longer pulled childish stunts to catch my eye, because they knew I understood more than they did—their clowning would only make them a laughingstock.

Older seniors no longer used tired tricks to stir my emotions, because they understood I could see through many things—stupid schemes would only make them lose face in front of their peers.

Teachers with ulterior motives stopped giving me extra attention, because they knew I had caught on to their intentions—continued favoritism would only invite criticism.

And so, they began to truly like me—not just for my looks—they genuinely respected me for my abilities.

Because of this genuine "liking," I lived a relatively brief "perfect life."

However, what I didn't expect was how severe the malice from my own gender would be.

The earliest was in third grade of elementary school. They hid my indoor shoes. I tried to find help, but the boys refused to lend a hand because of their threats, and the teachers were afraid of getting dragged into trouble.

I was completely alone. Their "coordination" exceeded my imagination.

Because the first "prank" succeeded, they escalated: graffiti on my desk, small gestures to disturb me, inciting classmates to isolate me, even vandalizing my belongings...

I reported it to teachers and parents, but the teachers just hemmed and hawed, and my parents shifted the blame with things like, "Why do they bully you and not someone else?"

I tried to fight back, but how could one person stand against so many?

And so, the rest of my elementary school life trickled to an end. Under the bullying of my peers, I entered middle school.

I deliberately chose a remote middle school, hoping to start a new life there.

Looking back, I understood why I was resented—I was too dazzling. Under the light, darkness and filth had nowhere to hide, making it hard for both the wicked stained by sin and ordinary people tainted by it to bear themselves.

That's why they all targeted me.

So, I learned from elementary school and prepared to keep a low profile to survive the three years of middle school.

But what I didn't expect was that the malice from these adolescent peers would be even worse than in elementary school.

After a brief period of calm, I fell into the vortex of bullying again.

I had planned to be a nobody, to drift meaninglessly through middle school, but they still pushed further—just because I, as an outsider, had a more beautiful face than those "living at the center of the group," they had to bully me?

Knowing that classmates, teachers, and parents were all useless, I fought back, trying to stop their bullying with violence.

But the result... was far from satisfactory. They still overwhelmed me with numbers.

And their actions were far worse than those in elementary school: they not only hurt my body but also tormented my spirit.

Passing classmates didn't reach out—they were afraid of becoming the next me. Teachers turned a deaf ear, because it was a school scandal they didn't want to get involved in. My parents still had the same attitude, blaming everything on me.

Because of the bullying, my grades plummeted, my social skills faded, and even my thinking became numb and sluggish.

I stopped believing in "happiness" and "liking," stopped believing in the existence of "kindness," and even stopped believing in "humanity"—yes, humans are exactly that kind of creature, holding up the hypocrisy called "helplessness" while making compromises that are actually "hurting others," secretly pleased with themselves for surviving another day.

Heh... no hope in sight. Everywhere I looked was pain. My life seemed to have an end in sight...

That day, I truly saw my end: they pulled a sharp blade from their bag and gestured it around my body.

Was it finally coming?

I thought.

Then I wouldn't have to suffer anymore, right?

A hint of joy even surfaced in my heart.

But when I saw that gleaming blade slowly approaching me, I was still afraid.

I wasn't as calm as I thought—even though reality was worse than death, I still feared the day of my end.

I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!

Whoever it is, just save me... save me, and I'll give anything!

My prayer seemed to work—the knife never landed on me. A boy rushed in and stopped them.

No, he didn't come to stop them from bullying me—he came to "bully" them!

I watched him take them down in an instant, but he didn't spare me a single glance. Instead, he busied himself with his own affairs: standing in that private, quiet women's restroom, using the blades they had brought to realize their original plan, bit by bit.

The ones who had always occupied the position of [bullies] had never imagined that [violence] could be such a terrifying thing. They wore expressions that had once only appeared on my face.

He fully demonstrated what true [violence] was, yet he turned a deaf ear to me, who had witnessed it all.

But I saw no trace of satisfaction or pleasure on his face as a [bully]. When they tormented me, they often wore such expressions, yet he had none of that emotion at all.

His [bullying] didn't seem to stem from the same reasons as theirs.

Afterward, as always, I cleaned the traces of the bullying from my body and returned home safely. He didn't pay me any mind.

The next day, when I came to school again, I heard news that they were [severely injured] and [mentally broken].

It was said that the cleaning staff who arrived first in the morning had discovered them. Out of fear, they chose to call the police, and the incident came to light—the bullying could no longer be hidden.

As the person with the greatest suspicion, I was summoned by the police for questioning. But I gave my testimony as [I was bullied until I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, they were already gone, so I took the chance to leave]. Considering my long history of being bullied and my inability to fight back, they had no choice but to release me.

However, as compensation, they explained to me why this incident had been linked to me:

That afternoon, all the surveillance cameras in the school had inexplicably been replaced by a looped video, recording no useful clues. The security guard watching the monitors before that hadn't spotted any suspicious individuals either;

The school's security personnel had all been attacked and knocked unconscious, with no one witnessing the specifics;

That night, a heavy rain fell, washing away all traces around the playground, leaving them unable to investigate any useful evidence;

Thus, the police ultimately came to me, the one who had friction with them.

But since I had [passed out] at the time, they couldn't get any useful information from me either, and the case became a cold case.

Not only that, but because the school bullying had come to light, the school was directly inspected by the National Education Committee. A large number of high-ranking officials were disciplined, and even many teachers were replaced.

Yet I still didn't understand why that person had [bullied] them that day, and with such severity.

I didn't even know who he was. Aside from the school uniform that told me he was a student, and those purple starry eyes hidden beneath his violet-black hair, I knew nothing else about him.

But because of the bullies' miserable fate, a rumor suddenly spread through the school that [the killer had taken a liking to me and thus taught them a lesson], completely insulating me from [school bullying].

It seemed that the goddess of luck had finally decided to bestow her favor upon me. Not long after I bid farewell to [school bullying], during the class reassignment in the third year of middle school, I met him.

"My name is Hoshino En. I enjoy playing various board games, I like reading, and I exercise regularly. I look forward to your guidance from now on."

During the self-introductions after the third-year class reassignment, I learned his name.

His name was Hoshino En, a boy with a very cute appearance.

For some reason, when I couldn't see him before, I hadn't felt much; but now that I could see him every day, I found myself thinking about him involuntarily.

But his reaction that day had truly frightened me. I didn't know how to face him.

Would he comfort me, the [victim of bullying]? Or would he eliminate me, the [witness to the bullying]?

I didn't know.

But one thing was clear to me: because of his actions, the remaining year and a half of my middle school life was no longer dark and hopeless. Although no one approached me (my classmates saw me as that killer's exclusive property and were too afraid to get close), no one hurt me either. Even the faint, almost imperceptible ignoring from before had vanished (because they feared becoming the next [bully]).

He brought light into my life.

When everyone ignored me, hurt me, and destroyed me, he stepped in to protect me.

Even though I knew this wasn't his intention, and he wouldn't expect my gratitude, the fact remained undeniable: he had saved me.

So then... what could I use to repay him?

I didn't know.

He had excellent academic ability, ranking among the top in exams; he had formidable physical fitness—otherwise, he couldn't have taken on four girls of the same age at once; he possessed thinking skills far beyond the ordinary—I didn't believe the lack of clues in that incident was a coincidence; he even didn't neglect financial matters, as his every move revealed a certain extravagance and ease.

The only thing he seemed to lack, to be missing, was [social interaction]—he had few friends, and in class, there wasn't even anyone he could talk to.

But I lacked that too, so I couldn't help him at all.

Was there really nothing I could offer him in return?

Looking at the classmates around me enjoying their youth, I suddenly realized: there seemed to be no opposite sex by his side.

So, could I offer [myself] as my repayment to him?

I knew that someone like me could never be worthy of someone as outstanding as him. His future wife should be a [genius] as brilliant as he was.

But he had saved me when I was on the verge of collapse, giving me a second life when I was heading toward ruin. So as repayment, what was wrong with me taking on his future?

Once this thought took root, it became entrenched in my mind, impossible to shake.

I knew this way of thinking was pathological. He hadn't subjectively intended to help me, so I didn't need to go to such lengths to repay him. But I couldn't resist the temptation this idea offered.

If I couldn't become someone useful to him, then what meaning did this second [life] I had gained hold?

My original dreams had long been forgotten amidst the repeated bullying. Now, I had found a new reason to live—to become a better person, someone who could be of use to him.

So, to keep up with him, I searched for and retrieved my past—academic ability, insight, physical fitness, wisdom, and social skills... I tried to become an excellent [me] once more.

But just as my plan was beginning, something happened to him.

Nine months after that incident, the police-appointed psychologist used deep hypnosis to extract the remaining impressions the girls had of that day. Piecing them together, they reconstructed the likely appearance of the perpetrator—though the cost was that the girls would never recover, as the secondary stimulation had too great an impact on their minds.

Based on those descriptions, the police conducted a sweep of the area around the school, eventually pinpointing him and taking him in for questioning.

Although he was ultimately released due to having an alibi, the news that he was a [suspect] spread throughout the entire school.

Even so, because of fear, no one at school dared to bully him. He simply lived more isolated than before, and none of this seemed to affect him much.

But this dashed my plan to confess everything to him at that moment.

If I, as a "victim of bullying," got too close to him, the one who "crushed the bullies," it would only solidify his status as a "criminal." The benefits it would bring him would be far outweighed by the damage to his reputation.

So I kept my distance from him for the time being and focused on improving myself.

After I become a much more impressive adult in the future, I'll explain everything to him then!

Thus, I accepted the principal's nomination and chose Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing School as my high school.

Even though I felt he was trying to send me, a "nuisance," away and wasn't really helping me, I was still grateful for his "assistance"—because of the bullying I experienced in elementary and middle school, I lacked many individual abilities. If I had to advance to higher education or find a job based on my own merits, it would be extremely difficult.

That's why I wanted to go there, to use the "100% advancement and employment" benefit as a shortcut to improve myself.

First Semester of First Year : Q

Chapter 27: The Next Day's Settlement and Review

After leaving Karuizawa Kei's room, Hoshino En returned to his own.

Because of her, there wasn't much time left before his appointment with Kushida Kikyo. To avoid getting caught in another unexpected situation, he decided to just wait in his room until that little angel, whose stress was about to burst, came knocking.

But while waiting, Hoshino En reviewed today's "gains" once more.

First, he had obtained and monopolized the privilege of "exchanging points for yen in advance." This way, even if he ultimately couldn't graduate as a third-year student, he could still convert his points into yen and take them out of school.

When Chairman Sakayanagi mentioned the exchange rate, he deliberately brought up "upon graduation in the third year." This indicated that the privilege of "exchanging points for yen" was only available to third-year students at graduation, and no other student had it. If someone were eliminated before that, all their work would be for nothing.

Moreover, Hoshino En was certain that this school must have an expulsion mechanism—after all, the benefits of Class A were so tempting that everyone would be reluctant to leave. If an inevitable expulsion penalty existed, then how the class representative coordinated the class and guided others to make choices... these were definitely things this school, which advocated "meritocracy," wanted to see.

Of course, this kind of "certain death" mechanism would also have remedial measures, such as spending points to nullify the "expulsion" result. The cost would probably be the same as the price for changing classes: 20 million points.

If a random expulsion occurred, then "whether to spend points for that student" would also be a test.

Then came the news about the Student Council. Although Hoshino En was confident in his judgment, the two consecutive mistakes afterward made him a little less confident.

But regardless, the situation with the Student Council was definitely a pitfall on par with the "special nature of Class A." To avoid trouble, it would be best for him not to get involved.