Clues Everywhere

After Hoshinomiya Chie turned and left the classroom, the previously tense and silent class instantly relaxed, and scattered discussions rose once more. Everyone's thoughts revolved around the point system that had just been introduced. The boy who had publicly questioned whether the 100,000 points issued each month were guaranteed immediately pushed through the crowd and strode toward Ichinose Honami at its center.

The boy stood tall, his brows composed and steady. His bearing far surpassed the restlessness typical of ordinary freshmen, and he conducted himself with measured propriety. He took the initiative to nod at Ichinose Honami and said sincerely, "Hello, my name is Kanzaki Ryuji."

As one of the most mature and meticulous students in Class B, Kanzaki Ryuji had keenly sensed that something was wrong with the teacher's evasive answer. The enormous benefit of 100,000 points per month was far too unreal, while the school's deliberate avoidance of the core issue only confirmed his suspicions.

"Everyone must have understood the point of my question just now." Kanzaki Ryuji swept his gaze across the students gathered around them and said gravely, "There's no way the school can permanently hand out 100,000 points every month for free. The cost would be absurdly high. There must be rules we don't know about yet that affect the amount. I plan to ask some upperclassmen about the specifics later and figure out how the points fluctuate."

Upon hearing that, Ichinose Honami immediately nodded. Her gentle features carried a serious expression, fully displaying her usual warmth and sense of collective responsibility. "That's a great idea! If possible, leave it to me. I'll ask the upperclassmen and try to understand the rules as soon as possible, so everyone can have some peace of mind."

Their conversation clearly reached Bai Mu in the corner. He was still leaning back in his chair, languid and relaxed, watching his classmates help one another with an indifferent expression.

Just as everyone praised the two of them for being so thoughtful and responsible, Bai Mu, who had been silently observing, suddenly interjected in a calm voice. His tone was cool, yet it carried clearly through the room. "If the school deliberately avoided the question, they probably won't allow students to spread the answer privately. Even if the upperclassmen know the truth, school rules will likely prevent them from saying much. You probably won't get any useful information, but you can try."

That simple sentence instantly extinguished much of everyone's optimism.

The entire class froze for a moment and turned to look at the handsome, quiet foreign student in the corner. Only then did they realize that Advanced Nurturing High School's rules were already secretive and obscure. If the school refused to disclose a core mechanism, it would surely have strict measures in place to control it. How could it possibly allow upperclassmen to casually reveal it to freshmen?

Kanzaki Ryuji raised his brows slightly. His gaze toward Bai Mu gained a measure of acknowledgment and respect as he nodded. "You're right. I considered it too superficially."

Ichinose Honami also nodded softly. The anticipation in her eyes faded somewhat, replaced by greater caution. "That's true. The school's rules seem stricter than we imagined."

Bai Mu said nothing further. He withdrew his gaze and returned to his earlier indifferent demeanor. He had no intention of standing out, nor did he care to join the class discussion. He had merely offered a casual reminder.

Shortly afterward, an assembly order was issued. All the freshmen rose in an orderly manner, formed two neat lines, and headed toward the school field to attend the entrance ceremony.

Classes from every grade lined up in sequence. The first-year students stood at the front, with the second- and third-year students following behind. Bai Mu deliberately slowed his pace and inconspicuously fell to the last row of the first-year formation, where he had an excellent vantage point to clearly observe everything happening around him.

In accordance with the school's strict formation requirements, every class was arranged into two columns, with girls in front and boys behind. The classes were aligned horizontally and orderly vertically, creating an overall scene of impeccable discipline. As the first-year students finished taking their positions and prepared to align with the upperclassmen, Bai Mu's eyes suddenly narrowed as he caught an extremely unusual detail.

There were clearly large numbers of empty spaces in the second- and third-year formations.

The third-year formation in particular was sparse and scattered, with many positions completely vacant. Compared to the complete first-year formation, it had nearly one-third fewer students.

Freshmen entered at full capacity, with each class containing exactly forty students and no absences. But such a drastic decline in the number of upperclassmen could not possibly be explained by leaves of absence or suspended enrollment. There was only one reasonable answer: expulsion.

The empty spaces among the four upper-year classes had not been reduced evenly. Instead, they showed an extremely regular gradient.

Classes A, B, C, and D had never been simple parallel class divisions. They were real-time rankings.

A class's rank directly corresponded to its overall strength and annual standing. Class A was the elite group firmly at the top, receiving the greatest resource allocation and enjoying the highest margin for error, so it had the fewest expulsions. Below it, Classes B, C, and D fell successively in rank, while assessment pressure, point deductions, and the difficulty of survival increased layer by layer.

Class D, especially, sat at the bottom of the rankings. Every special exam and every round of rule-based settlement was a high-risk elimination zone. Fail an exam, place last in class rankings, have your points reduced to zero—and enormous penalties and forced expulsion would follow.

The lower a class ranked, the more brutal the pressure it endured, the higher its chance of elimination, and the more expulsions it naturally suffered.

This elite school, which publicly boasted a 100% advancement rate and zero expulsions, had been continuously eliminating students behind the scenes.

Countless freshmen had been deceived by its glossy publicity, believing that once they enrolled, they could peacefully spend three years here and graduate without issue. They did not know that every year, students were forced to leave and withdraw in disgrace.

It seemed that the so-called 100% employment and advancement rates were not benefits available to everyone at all, but exclusive rewards for those who survived elimination.

With that thought, Bai Mu's expression remained unchanged. He silently took out his phone, opened the class group that had only just been created and was still quiet, moved his fingers, and sent a brief message: [There are many empty spaces in the upper-year formations. The school has a high-frequency expulsion system.]

The moment the message was sent, the previously dead-silent class group exploded.

The Class B freshmen, who had been full of anticipation and imagining a stable high school life, were all thrown into an uproar after seeing the message. If large-scale expulsions truly existed, then the school's cruelty far exceeded everyone's expectations. For the first time, the danger hidden beneath its beautiful exterior was laid bare before them.

The noise on the field gradually settled, and the entrance ceremony officially began.

On the neat and solemn podium, the student council president stepped up to give a speech. The young man stood tall, his presence calm and steady. His words were forceful, every sentence promoting Advanced Nurturing High School's educational philosophy. The entire speech was the same outward-facing rhetoric: elite cultivation, fair competition, and success for every student. There was not a single flaw, perfectly matching all the outside world's expectations of this prestigious school.

Then one passage reached his ears, causing Bai Mu, who had been absentmindedly surveying the entire field, to instantly gather all his scattered thoughts.

"Our school adheres to the core principle that strength comes first, cultivating exceptional talents proficient in both academics and martial pursuits. Knowledge establishes one's place, physical strength forms one's foundation, and only those possessing both virtue and talent can be called elites."

Proficient in both academics and martial pursuits.

Those four seemingly ordinary words deepened Bai Mu's doubts once again.

All the school's previous promotional materials, enrollment handbooks, and official introductions had focused solely on academic ability, grades, higher education, and employment. They had never mentioned physical fitness, combat, or assessments related to bodily ability. Yet the student council president had publicly emphasized being "proficient in both academics and martial pursuits," which meant the school's assessment system definitely involved more than written exams.

Besides academic competition, there were likely hidden tests involving physical confrontation, athletic assessment, or even close-range contests.

Bai Mu's gaze darkened slightly as he silently reviewed every clue. The deliberately vacant upper-year formations, the unpredictable point system, the hidden implications of the initial entrance test, and now the dual academic-and-martial assessment system coming to light... the puzzle of this school's rules was gradually becoming complete, and increasingly cold and cruel.

What appeared to be an ordinary entrance ceremony had, from beginning to end, been the school's way of subtly pressuring freshmen and hinting at its rules.

The lengthy ceremony slowly came to an end. Each class dispersed in an orderly manner for free time, leaving the freshmen time to familiarize themselves with the campus and organize their belongings.

Most of the students around him traveled in groups, visiting and photographing campus facilities or gathering to discuss the entrance ceremony and rumors of expulsion. Only Bai Mu remained alone. He left the crowd by himself and followed the signs straight toward the school cafeteria.

He had no interest in sightseeing. Compared with illusory campus scenery, he wanted to personally verify the resource gap at the bottom of the school and understand the true disparity created by the point system.

The spacious, spotless cafeteria was enormous, with clearly divided counters. There were exquisite and expensive premium set meals, Western-style light meals, and grilled meat sets, but there was also an extremely inconspicuous free counter tucked into a corner. Hardly anyone stood there, making it exceptionally deserted.

Bai Mu's gaze settled on the sign above the free counter—Wild Vegetable Set Meal.

The tray contained nothing but plain boiled wild vegetables and light white rice, with no meat or oil. The side dishes were excessively simple. A few stalks of bitter greens were dark in color and dry in texture, the sort of coarse wild vegetable he had only seen in some remote rural villages in his previous life.

He casually swiped his card and ordered one, then found an empty seat by the window. After taking a bite, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

The taste was bland and dry, the texture rough. It was barely edible and only just sufficient to fill one's stomach, let alone be called delicious. If anyone had enough points to choose otherwise, almost no one would voluntarily eat a meal like this.

He raised his eyes and surveyed the cafeteria, his gaze swiftly sweeping over the room.

The vast majority of students were enjoying refined paid meals with varied dishes and balanced portions of meat and vegetables. Only a scattered handful sat silently in corners, lowering their heads as they ate the same wild vegetable set meal. Their expressions were desolate, and they ate with great care.

It had only been half a day since enrollment. There had not yet been any formal assessments or deductions for rule violations, yet some students had already fallen to the point where they could only eat free coarse-grain meals.

Bai Mu instantly made an accurate judgment.

The initial 100,000 points were not a fixed benefit at all. Most likely, hidden deductions, minor violations, and daily evaluations had quietly begun from the moment they enrolled. Many people's points had probably already been secretly deducted, plunging from the standard monthly allowance of 100,000 to a meager ten or twenty thousand. They could no longer afford normal meals and had no choice but to survive on the free relief food.

After hastily finishing lunch, Bai Mu got up from the cafeteria and headed straight for the campus convenience store.

The store was fully stocked, offering everything from snacks and drinks, clothing and hats, to electronics and entertainment supplies. Prices varied, perfectly matching the campus point-spending system. In the innermost corner of the store, there was a separate distribution area for free daily necessities.

The existence of that area was even more alarming than the free wild-vegetable set meals.

The shelves held basic stationery, cheap toiletries, ordinary clothes, shoes, and socks. Their quality was barely usable—rough, plain, and utterly lacking in any sense of quality. They were genuine bare-minimum relief supplies.

Looking at the shelves before him, Bai Mu sighed inwardly.

How desperate would someone have to be, with all their points deducted, before they were forced to come collect these free supplies?

This also confirmed all his suspicions. There was a mechanism within the school that reduced students' living points.

Just as his gaze swept over the shelves and he pondered in silence, a cool, detached figure entered his sight.

Beside a shelf some distance away stood a girl with long, straight black hair. Her smooth hair fell over her shoulders, her skin was fair, and her features carried a cold, distant beauty. She looked indifferent and taciturn, exuding an icy aura that warned strangers to keep away. Slim and upright, she wore a neat school uniform along with a class tie in the same color scheme as Bai Mu's—without question, she was a first-year student.

The girl had lowered her eyes slightly as she carefully examined the daily necessities in the free distribution area, her gaze calm and composed.

She seemed to have understood the gap in resources at the bottom of the school hierarchy and seen through the cruel core of the point system.

It looked like the first-years had some formidable opponents.

Bai Mu gave her a faint glance but did not approach or make any effort to investigate her identity or thoughts. He withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked straight out of the store.

After leaving the store, Bai Mu's attention was once again drawn to his surroundings on the way to the dormitory area, and his vigilance steadily rose.

Above the entire campus road, lamp posts, building walls, and shaded corners were densely covered with surveillance cameras. They provided full coverage from every angle, without a single blind spot.

For a brief moment, Bai Mu thought he had returned home.

Such high-density surveillance was standard in public schools back in his previous life, but it was completely at odds with the style of Japanese campuses.

Japan had always valued personal privacy and exercised great restraint when installing public surveillance cameras. Ordinary campuses and public areas had very few cameras. Yet Advanced Nurturing High School had deliberately gone in the opposite direction.

Such dense, blind-spot-free surveillance was far more than the school's claimed purpose of "ensuring student safety."

The only truth was round-the-clock monitoring.

They were monitoring every student's words and actions, daily movements, interpersonal relationships, and emotional changes, capturing everyone's subtle traits for data records, personality evaluations, and potential screening. The information would provide precise data support for future class competitions, special exams, and talent elimination.

From the moment they stepped onto campus, every move they made was exposed beneath the school's watchful eyes. There was no privacy whatsoever.

Thinking as he walked, Bai Mu soon arrived at the student dormitory building.

The standalone apartment-style dormitory was luxurious and spotless, with private rooms and complete facilities. The living conditions far surpassed those of ordinary high school dorms, perfectly matching the school's top-tier promotional image. Yet beside the dormitory entrance, a glaring sight at a vending machine left Bai Mu speechless.

Inside the transparent vending machine display, adult accessories of every kind were openly arranged for sale, available to every high school student on campus.

Bai Mu frowned slightly, utterly speechless.