The Cost of Standing Too Far Out Front

Before the second round began, Gu Heng's terminal had already lit up three times.

The momentum Class D had built after winning the first round that afternoon was slowly draining away.

Some sat down and never got back up.

Some unscrewed their water pouches, then capped them again without taking a drink.

"Shouldn't we redistribute the water again?"

"That shaded route was too winding. My legs are already starting to feel heavy."

"Some of the girls want to change the rotation schedule at the last minute."

"Sudo's group says the front line wants to push the pace even harder."

One problem followed another.

"How should we adjust this?"

"Gu Heng, should we look over the route again?"

"Gu Heng, someone here is about to lose it."

"Gu Heng..."

Hirata had already taken on as much as he could.

Horikita was keeping discipline in check as well.

Kushida was still soothing the discomfort and complaints among the girls.

But whenever it came to "Should we change it?" "Who's taking responsibility?" or "What do we give up first?" those voices always circled back.

Face after face turned toward him.

Waiting for him to speak.

"Gu Heng." Hirata came over again, his voice already lowered. "People in the back are saying you might've pushed the pace too hard."

Gu Heng looked up.

"Who?"

"That isn't important." Hirata shook his head. "What matters is that the words are already spreading."

Someone in the back lowered their head to sort through their backpack, then quickly glanced this way.

They were not the first.

"They're not entirely wrong." Gu Heng glanced at the time on his terminal. "We really did push hard in the first round."

"But if we hadn't, we wouldn't have won it."

"I know," Hirata said. "The question isn't whether it was right."

"It's that if this keeps going, a lot of people will start following only one line of logic."

"What logic?"

"They're tired because Gu Heng made us run like this." Hirata looked at him. "Not because this exam was brutal to begin with."

Gu Heng's thumb pressed against the edge of the terminal, and the screen went dark in his palm for a moment.

"Then how do you want to handle it?" Gu Heng asked.

"Split up the responsibility first," Hirata said.

Gu Heng looked at him.

Hirata rarely spoke this firmly.

But this time, his voice was steady.

"I'm not saying we should pass the work off," he added. "I'm saying the explanations and decisions that different people should be carrying need to actually be divided between them."

"Otherwise, sooner or later, all of it will pile onto you."

Gu Heng's fingers paused at the terminal's edge.

Then a dull thud came from up ahead.

It was not a conflict.

Someone had simply collapsed into a sitting position.

Gu Heng and Horikita looked over almost at the same time.

It was Yamauchi.

His face was pale, sweat covered his forehead, and before he had even fully taken off his backpack, half his body had already gone limp.

"Damn it, no... My leg's cramping."

The two people beside him hurriedly tried to help him up.

The mood among those in the back was immediately stirred up.

"I told you we shouldn't have pushed so hard!"

"At this rate, who's going to be able to hold on later?"

"We're not freaks like Class A..."

Once the voices multiplied, even people at the front began turning back to look.

Sudo frowned, looking irritated too.

Not at Yamauchi.

At the fact that once this mood rose up, the whole team's rhythm would fall apart again.

Just as Gu Heng prepared to head over, Horikita got there first.

"Move aside." Her voice was cold and direct. "If he's cramping, straighten his leg first. Who's still making noise beside him?"

Her forceful words were enough to suppress the noise for the moment.

But they could not suppress the growing, all-too-real exhaustion underneath it.

"Gu Heng," Hirata called again.

This time, Gu Heng did not immediately go over to answer.

He stood where he was, looking at the mess in front of him.

Horikita had quieted the voices.

Hirata was supporting the fallen student.

Kushida was already leading two panicked girls aside.

Yet everyone was still waiting for him to speak.

"Hirata," he suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

"From now on, you make the calls on physical limits and morale." Gu Heng said. "You don't need to ask me every time."

The water pouch in Hirata's hand stopped in midair, his fingers tightening slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Gu Heng looked at him. "As long as it doesn't affect the overall route or external decisions, you decide first."

Hirata looked at him for two seconds, then nodded.

"Okay."

Gu Heng turned to Horikita.

"You don't need to wait for me every time on discipline either."

"If someone can't keep going, if someone wants to slack off, if someone tries to use the chaos to cause trouble, keep track of it yourself and handle it yourself."

Horikita raised her eyes toward him.

"You only just thought of delegating authority?"

"It's not too late yet," Gu Heng said.

"It'd better not be." Horikita replied coldly.

She tucked the clipboard under her arm and turned to sweep her gaze across the rear.

"What about Kushida's side?" Hirata asked quietly.

"She keeps gathering information, but she doesn't make judgments." Gu Heng said. "You review it once, then she passes it on."

At that moment, Ayanokoji had already approached.

He glanced over at Yamauchi, who had just been helped up and was still panting, then turned to Gu Heng.

"You finally realized it?"

Gu Heng tilted his head toward him.

"What?"

"If you stand too far out front, it's not just the other classes that will watch you." Ayanokoji's tone remained flat. "People in your own class will also find it easier to dump all their fatigue, irritation, and fear onto you."

"Because you're standing in the position where it's easiest to assign blame."

"That isn't praise," Gu Heng said.

"It wasn't meant to be." Ayanokoji said lightly. "Just a reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

Ayanokoji did not answer right away.

He only glanced once toward Yamauchi.

Gu Heng did not argue.

"I understand," Gu Heng said.

Ayanokoji looked at him, said nothing further, and merely added softly:

"You're standing too far out front."

Then he left.

Gu Heng remained where he was, his fingers still pressed against the terminal's edge. Only after two seconds did he slowly release it.

When the second round lit up that evening, the designated area was on the western shallows.

The route was not particularly far.

The problem was that they had to cross a stretch of loose rocky slope.

If no one slowed down during the first round, they could still race along that path.

But Class D no longer had that kind of margin.

"We're not fighting for first," Gu Heng said. "Hold the middle ground. Don't break formation."

This time, he was not the first one to speak.

Hirata assigned Yamauchi and two other pale-faced students to the rear.

"You're not pushing up front."

"But won't having fewer people drag down our score?" someone asked anxiously.

"Losing points is better than breaking everyone," Hirata said, his voice low, but he did not look at Gu Heng. "Stay with the middle group. Rehydrate and carry the light packs."

Horikita opened her clipboard beside him.

"A temporary slowdown gets recorded once."

Yamauchi's face turned even paler.

"I've got a cramp and you're still recording it?"

"Physical discomfort can be adjusted for," Horikita said coldly. "But waiting until the entire team has to stop before saying anything is an execution problem."

Hirata looked up.

"Horikita, don't press so hard yet."

Horikita's pen stopped over the paper.

"If we don't record it, everyone will wait until they can't endure it anymore before saying something next round."

"If you press too hard now, the people in the back will be even more afraid to report early," Hirata said.

The water pouch in Hirata's hand stopped in midair.

Horikita's pen pressed against the paper without immediately coming down.

Neither of them looked at Gu Heng first.

But the air around the team instantly tightened.

Gu Heng stood half a step away and did not immediately intervene.

During the first two rounds, he would have given a direct conclusion.

But now, he merely folded the terminal into his palm.

"Hirata decides the adjustments first," Gu Heng said. "Horikita records the reasons."

Horikita looked at him.

"Separate them?"

"Separate them," Gu Heng said. "Slowing down physically isn't the same as slacking off. But failing to report it early can't be treated as if nothing happened."

Hirata fastened the cap on the water pouch and nodded.

"I'll explain it."

"I'll record it." Horikita pressed her pen down again.

In the second round, Class D did not earn an impressive score.

Class B claimed one side of the outer shallows first, while Class C circled in from the other side.

In the end, Class D only secured a position that was not bad.

When the terminal vibrated, the score on the screen rose with restraint.

No one cheered.

But no one collapsed either.

When they returned to camp, Yamauchi was assigned to the water supply line.

The other two students who had slowed down were also called aside by Hirata to rearrange their night shifts.

Meanwhile, Horikita divided "temporary slowdown," "failure to report in advance," and "voluntary adjustment" into three columns, writing each entry onto the clipboard one stroke at a time.

When Hirata saw those three columns, his brow still furrowed.

"Tomorrow, I'll ask about everyone's physical condition first."

"I'll keep recording." Horikita said.

"I'm not against you recording." Hirata's voice lowered. "I'm afraid they'll be even less willing to speak up later."

"I'm not against you comforting them either." Horikita closed her clipboard. "I'm afraid they'll only learn how to talk."

After those two remarks, neither of them continued.

Gu Heng stood at the edge of the camp, watching Hirata call the two people who had fallen behind over to the water bags, then watching Horikita tuck her clipboard back under her arm.

His shoulders relaxed slightly.

But Hirata could already handle a complaint on his own.

Horikita no longer turned back to wait for his cue, either.

It was just that, for the first time, the ways they caught people collided.

And this time, Gu Heng did not immediately nail down the answer for them.