Gaining Points

The chill of the late night had yet to fully dissipate from the corridor as Kazama In pushed open the door to the Class D dormitory. The room was shrouded in darkness, only the faint morning light filtering through the window barely outlining the furniture's contours. He closed the door behind him with his back against the cold panel, and in the brief stillness, the conversation with Sakayanagi Arisu at the café earlier, along with the heavier fragments of memory buried deeper, clung stubbornly to his mind like reefs exposed by a receding tide.

He shook his head, as if to momentarily dispel those invisible burdens. Pulling out his phone, the screen glowed faintly, clearly displaying his personal point balance: 82,360 points. In the current environment of Class D, where monthly points had been reset to zero and nearly everyone was destitute, this number was astronomical—accumulated through certain "special means" and his initial allocation. But Kazama In's gaze swept over the figure without a trace of pride, only cold assessment.

Student Council President Horikita Manabu's stern declaration and homeroom teacher Chabashira Sae's almost ruthless explanation of the point rules echoed in his mind like cold mechanical sounds: "Points are everything. They determine your quality of life, determine the survival of your class, and ultimately determine whether you can survive in this school." Survival... A faint, almost imperceptible mockery flickered in the depths of Kazama In's jet-black pupils. For him, the definition of survival was far more complex than what these points could measure. But undeniably, within the meticulously constructed "cage" of Advanced Nurturing High School, points were the core gear driving the rules—one of the "resources" he most needed to accumulate openly for now.

Using the loophole of a modified phone to contact the outside world for resources? That was certainly a trump card, but the risk was immense; if exposed, expulsion was almost certain. Kazama In wouldn't play that card lightly. He needed a more "legitimate" path, one that could rapidly accumulate points within the rules.

After yesterday's classes ended, instead of heading straight back to the dorm, he stepped into the club recruitment area with clear intent. The place was buzzing with noise, each club pulling out all the stops to attract new students. Kazama In's sharp gaze swept across, finally settling on the area exuding an aura of solemnity and sweat—the Kendo Club.

The club room was spacious and bright, the air thick with the unique blend of tung oil, sweat, and leather. The wooden floor gleamed like a mirror, reflecting the overhead lights. Club members in blue-and-white kendo uniforms were practicing basic swings, their synchronized shouts and the whistling of bamboo swords through the air brimming with power. Kazama In's appearance immediately drew everyone's attention.

His black hair, parted in a 3:7 ratio, stood out sharply under the dojo's bright lights. The few strands near his left temple, almost silver-white, mixed with streaks of dark red like dried blood, gave off an almost eerie mystique against his school uniform. His deep-set features were as if meticulously carved, his skin pale and cold. Standing there, he created a powerful visual impact—undeniable beauty tinged with an unreal coldness, an androgynous refinement concealing a blade-like sharpness.

The Kendo Club's captain, Takahashi Kengo, a third-year student with a burly build, a resolute face, and eyes as sharp as an eagle's, set down his bamboo sword and strode over, his voice booming: "You're a new student? Interested in kendo?" His gaze lingered on Kazama In's unusual appearance for a moment, appraising.

Kazama In gave a slight nod, his demeanor neither arrogant nor humble, as calm as a deep pool. "Kazama In, Class D." He stated his name, his voice low and clear, cutting straight to the point: "I'm not very interested in joining a club. But I am interested in points."

Takahashi Kengo and the gathered members were all taken aback. It was the first time someone had come so bluntly for points in the Kendo Club, which prided itself on martial spirit.

"Points?" Takahashi Kengo furrowed his thick brows. "The Kendo Club speaks through skill and love for the art, not as a tool to earn points!"

"Skill?" The corner of Kazama In's mouth curled into a faint, provocative arc. "Perfect timing then, Captain Takahashi. How about a match?" His jet-black pupils locked onto Takahashi Kengo as he clearly laid out his wager: "If I win, you pay me 50,000 personal points."

"What?!" A wave of commotion erupted around them. 50,000 points! That was an astronomical sum for an ordinary student.

Takahashi Kengo's face darkened, feeling insulted: "Arrogant! Who do you think you are? And if you lose?"

"If I lose," Kazama In's voice remained steady, carrying an undeniable weight, "I will publicly apologize to all members of the Kendo Club in front of the entire school for today's offense, and..." He paused, then enunciated clearly, "transfer all points in my account to the Kendo Club."

"All points?!" Even Takahashi Kengo drew in a sharp breath. 82,360 points! The stakes were enormous!

"Captain! Accept it!"

"Teach this clueless Class D brat a lesson!"

"Let him know kendo isn't a game!"

"Yeah! Make him apologize! Cough up those points!"

The crowd was riled up. Kazama In's calm demeanor and massive wager instantly ignited the Kendo Club members' pride and competitive spirit. 50,000 personal points were no small sum, but split among them or partially covered by club funds, it wasn't entirely unaffordable. And if they won, they'd not only crush this arrogant newcomer's spirit but also gain a huge point windfall, greatly benefiting the club's development! Besides, Captain Takahashi Kengo's skill was top-tier across the entire school!

Takahashi Kengo looked at his members' angry yet eager eyes, then back at Kazama In's unfathomable, storm-laden jet-black pupils. He sensed the calm yet oppressive aura emanating from the other, no mere bluff. A long-dormant fighting spirit stirred within him.

"Fine!" Takahashi Kengo accepted the challenge in a deep voice that rang through the dojo. "I, Takahashi Kengo, on behalf of the Kendo Club, accept your challenge! But 50,000 points is too little!" He glanced around and declared loudly, "Every official member present! If Kazama-kun truly defeats me, each of you will voluntarily pay him 50,000 personal points! How about that?" He aimed to crush the opponent's psyche with an even larger collective bet.

"Agreed!"

"Captain's got guts!"

"Deal!"

The members chorused in unison, brimming with confidence. Nearly twenty official members, each paying 50,000 points—that was close to a million! The stakes were enough to drive anyone mad.

A faint, barely perceptible glint flashed in the depths of Kazama In's eyes. The provocation had worked, exceeding expectations. "It's a deal," he nodded calmly.

The center of the dojo was quickly cleared. Guided by a member, Kazama In changed into the spare protective gear and kendo uniform provided by the club. When he stood fully equipped at the starting line, bamboo sword in hand, his cold, sharp aura condensed further, as if he himself were an unsheathed blade. The jet-black eyes visible through the mask's slits were as still as an abyss.

Takahashi Kengo was also fully armored, his burly frame even more imposing in the protective gear. He stood opposite Kazama In, his gaze blazing.

A seasoned third-year member served as referee. Standing solemnly to the side, he announced the rules in a clear voice: "Three-point match! Valid striking areas: face, wrist, torso, throat! Bow!"

Both straightened, holding their swords before them, tips angled toward the ground.

"Crouch!"

Kazama In and Takahashi Kengo moved in unison, bending their knees and lowering into a crouch, their bamboo swords placed horizontally across their knees. This was a ritual showing respect to the opponent and the dojo, executed with steady, powerful movements, no half-measures.

"Stand!"

Both rose simultaneously, slowly raising their swords, tips pointing at each other from a distance.

"Begin!"

As the referee's command fell, the air in the dojo instantly solidified.

Takahashi Kengo, true to his rank as captain, was experienced and imposing. With a low roar like a tiger descending a mountain, he closed the distance with swift, solid footwork, launching a powerful overhead strike aimed straight at Kazama In's face! The bamboo sword cut through the air with a sharp whistle!

Facing this thunderous blow, Kazama In's reaction was surprisingly... simple. Instead of opting for a common block or dodge, his body tensed like a drawn bowstring. Just as the bamboo sword was about to land, he exploded forward from his stance, moving in rather than retreating! With an extremely subtle angle, he narrowly avoided the strongest point of impact, while his own bamboo sword shot out like a viper's tongue, striking Takahashi Kengo's right wrist guard with blinding speed and precision!

"Smack—!"

A crisp, clear hit rang out!

"Right wrist! One point!" The referee's judgment was swift and decisive.

The entire dojo fell into dead silence! Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief. The captain's powerful frontal assault had been broken by a newcomer with such precise, lightning-fast counter? And it was a clean, effective strike!

Takahashi Kengo was also stunned, a clear vibration from the hit site on his arm. Too fast! The angle, speed, and precision of that counter were beyond any student's—more like a seasoned swordsman! Any trace of contempt in his heart vanished, replaced by sharp vigilance.

"Zanshin!" the referee reminded. After landing the blow, Kazama In didn't linger; he quickly retreated to create distance, his bamboo sword still steadily aimed at his opponent, his stance flawless, his gaze cold and calm, as if that lightning-fast strike had been a casual gesture.

"Begin!"

The second round started. Takahashi Kengo changed tactics, no longer charging recklessly. He moved cautiously, his bamboo sword held firmly in a middle stance, the tip aimed directly at Kazama In's throat. His powerful aura was like a boulder, trying to pressure his opponent into revealing an opening.

Kazama In also held a middle stance, his posture like a pine, his breathing steady. The two faced off in the center of the dojo, the air thickening. The tips of their bamboo swords quivered slightly, each breath tightening everyone's nerves.

Suddenly, Takahashi Kengo caught an almost imperceptible slackening in Kazama In's sword-wielding wrist! An opening! Without hesitation, he exploded forward, unleashing a fierce horizontal strike aimed at Kazama In's left ribs! This blow was meant to be decisive!

Yet the moment his bamboo sword swung, Kazama In moved! That brief lapse in focus had been a feint! Facing the sweeping strike, he neither blocked nor retreated, instead choosing the most dangerous and unexpected response—he dropped low and spun inward, slipping past the horizontal slash like a fish cutting through water, closing into Takahashi Kengo's inner circle! At the same time, his bamboo sword arced upward from below in a fierce, sharp line of light.

"Smack—!"

"Men! Ippon!" The referee's voice carried a hint of excitement.

Another instant kill! And this time, as his opponent launched a powerful attack, he precisely pierced the opening and struck him down in one blow! Kazama In's movements were fluid, concise, and efficient to the extreme, with no wasted flair—pure, cold, practical combat.

Takahashi Kengo's faceguard took a heavy hit, rattling his head with a dull ring. He stared in disbelief at Kazama In, so close before him, his eyes behind the guard filled with shock and defeat. Too fast! Too precise! That grasp of timing and near-instinctive combat reaction was beyond his understanding!

"Zanshin!" After completing the strike, Kazama In quickly stepped back, reopening the distance, his stance still flawless, his gaze as calm as still water.

Two ippon! Kazama In had already taken two! One more win, and the match was decided! The entire Kendo Club fell silent, everyone stunned speechless by the overwhelming gap in skill. Those who had come to watch the fun, hoping to split some points, now wore only shock and confusion on their faces.

Takahashi Kengo took a deep breath, forcing down the turmoil inside. He understood now—he had met a true master. Slowly adjusting his breathing, he raised his bamboo sword again, his eyes growing intensely serious. The third round would be a battle for dignity!

"Begin!"

The final round. Takahashi Kengo abandoned all offense, shifting to an extreme defense. He held his ground steadily, his footwork tight, his bamboo sword like an iron wall, offering Kazama In no obvious openings. He would use his wealth of experience and formidable defense to wear down his opponent, waiting for a chance to counter.

Kazama In remained calm. He circled Takahashi Kengo slowly, his bamboo sword like a viper's tongue, probing constantly, searching for the fleeting gaps. His steps were light and eerie, carrying a certain rhythm, each movement tightening Takahashi Kengo's nerves a notch further.

Time ticked by, second after second. The dojo was filled only with the faint scrape of bamboo swords and the heavy breathing of the two fighters. The atmosphere was suffocating.

Suddenly, Kazama In's bamboo sword seemed to feint downward! Takahashi Kengo, hyper-focused, instinctively shifted his defensive weight lower, preparing to block a possible strike to the torso! In that split-second shift of balance—

Kazama In moved! He exploded like a coiled spring, fully released! Not a slash, but a charge like an arrow loosed from a bow, slamming straight into Takahashi Kengo! At the same time, his right hand, gripping the sword, flicked upward at an extremely tricky angle!

"Smack—!"

"Men! Yuko!" The referee nearly shouted it.

Third ippon! The decisive blow!

In the moment of impact, Kazama In skillfully used his body to lock Takahashi Kengo's center of gravity, while that upward flick struck Takahashi Kengo's jaw with pinpoint accuracy! Both power and timing were perfect!

Takahashi Kengo stumbled from the collision, his faceguard hit, and he staggered back several steps before regaining his balance. Leaning on his bamboo sword, he panted heavily, his eyes behind the guard filled with unwillingness, but even more with shock and... a trace of respect. His opponent had not only surpassed him in technique but had completely dominated him in combat wisdom and psychological warfare.

"The match is decided! Kazama In wins, three ippon!" The referee announced loudly.

A dead silence fell over the dojo. Everyone stared blankly at the tall, slender figure in the center, slowly lowering his sword and standing still. The few strands of silver-white and dark red at his temples were slightly damp with sweat, glinting eerily under the lights. His handsome, cold face showed no joy in victory, only a calm indifference. As if that overwhelming triumph had been no more than brushing away a speck of dust.

Kazama In lowered his bamboo sword, walked before Takahashi Kengo, and, following kendo etiquette, slowly knelt and bowed. Takahashi Kengo took a deep breath, suppressing his churning emotions, and returned the bow solemnly.

Both rose. Kazama In removed his faceguard, revealing that delicate yet icy face. He looked at Takahashi Kengo and the surrounding kendo club members, his voice clear and calm, carrying a stark contrast to the fierce combat moments before—a nearly rigid politeness:

"Captain Takahashi, esteemed seniors, I have been presumptuous just now. Kazama offers his sincere apologies." He gave a slight bow. "To use a match as a pretext for a wager is not the conduct of a gentleman, nor does it align with the true purpose of kendo—cultivating the heart and spirit. It was improper. Please forgive me."

His apology came abruptly but earnestly, leaving the club members, who had been nursing their grievances, at a loss for how to respond.

Kazama In straightened, his gaze sweeping openly over the crowd. "As for the wager, it was indeed about points. Being in Class D, my points are limited—a matter of practical necessity, forcing me to seek other means." He paused, and something flickered deep in his jet-black pupils, too fast to catch. "Of course, points were not the sole objective. Witnessing the skill and spirit of the esteemed seniors of the Kendo Club, and experiencing the essence of kendo, was also a gain from this visit. The method was merely inappropriate. I apologize again."

His words were impeccably measured, acknowledging the utilitarian pursuit of points while expressing respect for the Kendo Club, and deftly sidestepping his deeper motives. The contrast between his humble demeanor and overwhelming strength made it impossible for the club members to fault him further. After all, a bet was a bet, and skill was lacking.

Takahashi Kengo also removed his faceguard, a complex, wry smile on his face, mixed mostly with respect for a stronger fighter: "Kazama-kun... your skill is extraordinary. I, Takahashi Kengo, accept defeat wholeheartedly. A bet is a bet, and the Kendo Club keeps its word!" He turned and announced loudly to the members: "Everyone! 50,000 personal points each. Transfer them to Kazama-kun now! No excuses!"

Though it stung, with the captain's decree and Kazama In's skill and apology laid out, the members had no choice but to accept. Soon, the dojo was filled with the sounds of phones buzzing with transaction alerts.

Kazama In's phone screen began flashing wildly, a cascade of point deposit notifications streaming down like a waterfall:

[Transfer from Takahashi Kengo: 50,000 points] [Transfer from Sato Ichiro: 50,000 points] [Transfer from Suzuki Hanako: 50,000 points]...

In just a few minutes, Kazama In's personal point balance rocketed upward, finally settling on a staggering number: 1,022,360 points! Breaking the million mark!

With a massive fortune suddenly in hand, Kazama In's face showed no trace of elation. He calmly put away his phone, gave a slight nod to Takahashi Kengo and the others, and said, "Thank you for your generosity, esteemed seniors. I take my leave."

Just as he turned to go, a crisp female voice called out: "Wait a moment, Kazama-kun!"

Kazama In stopped and looked back. The speaker was a tall, sharp-looking third-year senior, not wearing kendo gear but standing at the edge of the crowd, seemingly the club's manager or similar. She stepped forward quickly, her eyes blazing as she sized up Kazama In, filled with admiration and... a certain excitement at discovering something new.

"Kazama-kun, hello. I'm Hayakawa Mai, the manager of the Kendo Club." The senior extended her hand gracefully. "That match just now was breathtaking! But it seems you're in urgent need of points?" She gave a sly smile. "Relying on bets... well, on sparring to earn points, while efficient, is risky and can easily make enemies."

Kazama In looked at her outstretched hand, hesitated for a brief moment, then reached out and gave it a light, brief shake. "Hayakawa-senpai. What advice do you have?" His tone remained calm.

Hayakawa Mai withdrew her hand, unbothered by his coolness, and seemed even more intrigued. "Advice? Hardly. I just think... your appearance is exceptionally striking." Her gaze lingered on his handsome, cold face, especially the highly distinctive silver-white hair with dark red highlights. "Ever thought about modeling? Our school has a Modeling Club that often takes on commercial shoots or campus promotions. Payment is in points, and quite generous! With your looks, you'd definitely be a star!"

Modeling? Kazama In's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Being exposed in front of a camera, becoming a focal point—that went completely against his habit of keeping a low profile. But... the points were generous.

Hayakawa Mai, skilled at reading people, quickly added: "No need to decide right away! Here's my contact info." She pulled out her phone and brought up her QR code. "If you're interested, feel free to reach out. I can introduce you to the Modeling Club's president. Just some photos, easy points, much safer than fighting. Think about it?"

Kazama In looked at the phone screen offered to him, then at Hayakawa Mai's sincere (or rather, talent-scouting enthusiastic) eyes. He was silent for a few seconds, then finally took out his own phone and scanned the code.

A soft beep confirmed the addition.

"Thank you, senpai." Kazama In put away his phone and nodded politely.

"You're welcome! Looking forward to hearing from you!" Hayakawa Mai waved with a bright smile.

Kazama In didn't linger. He turned and left the Kendo Club dojo. Behind him were the complex gazes of the club members and Hayakawa Mai's excited muttering.

Stepping out of the dojo, the afternoon sun was a bit harsh. Kazama In squinted slightly, feeling the heavy weight of his phone in his pocket—the weight of the million points just deposited. This fortune would grant him considerable freedom of action and resources in this point-driven school.

Yet deep in his jet-black pupils, there was no trace of relief. Sakayanagi Arisu's probing words, his father's gentle face carrying a heavy burden, the bloodstained shadow behind his mother's warm smile... all coiled around him like invisible chains. Points were just a tool, a brick on the staircase. What truly mattered were the secrets hidden beneath this school's glossy surface, the vipers that might lurk in the shadows, connected to the tragedies of the past.

He raised a hand, his fingertips unconsciously brushing the few strands of silver-white and dark red at his temples. The cold touch seemed to remind him of something. The Modeling Club's invitation might open a new path, but he knew well that peaceful days would not last long. He took a step forward, his figure merging into the campus crowd like a stone sinking into the deep sea—ripples on the surface, but beneath, unseen currents churned.