A New Variable in Class D

When the first phase of the special exam was settled, Class D was obviously not Class A yet.

It was not enough to leave everyone stunned, either.

But the moment the results panel lit up, Ike Kanji's hand, which had been braced on his knee, froze in place, while Yamauchi swallowed the complaint that had been about to leave his mouth.

Their ranking on the screen had not fallen to the bottom.

"So... that's it?" Ike Kanji stared blankly at the results on his terminal.

"Obviously." Sudo stood beside him, his tone still as aggressive as ever. "Did you want to live on this island until graduation?"

But even as he said it, his breathing still carried a trace of unspent intensity.

Yet his feet no longer pressed forward.

Hirata let out a long breath, his shoulders loosening slightly.

"At least we didn't fall to last place," he said.

"It's more than that." Yukimura adjusted his glasses, his voice still quiet. "Our decline in pace over these rounds was much smaller than estimated on the first day. The later supply arrangements and rotation changes were also more stable than the original plan."

"If we hadn't adjusted our rhythm in time earlier, the numbers wouldn't look like this."

Gu Heng did not immediately respond.

He simply stood where he was, looking at the people around him.

Some were too exhausted to do anything but sit down.

Some were still quietly reviewing which round had nearly trapped them again.

Others stared at the rankings for several seconds before finally lowering their shoulders and backs, which had been tense the whole time.

The results panel was still lit, with Class D's name sitting slightly below the middle.

No one cheered.

And no one slammed their terminal onto the ground anymore.

"Gu Heng."

Horikita called to him from a short distance away.

When Gu Heng walked over, she was still holding the record board that had already been filled with several pages of notes.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." Horikita looked at him, paused for two seconds, then slowly spoke. "I just wanted to confirm something."

"Confirm what?"

"That you really aren't the kind of person who only knows how to talk nicely in a classroom."

At those words, Gu Heng's fingers tightened around the side of his terminal, its edge pressing into his fingertips.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Half of one," Horikita said. "The other half is that I still don't like a lot of the ways you speak."

"That's normal."

Horikita looked at Gu Heng, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment before dropping back to her record board.

"There's something I won't deny."

She tucked the board more tightly into the crook of her arm.

"These pages really weren't something I could have written alone."

Gu Heng's gaze fell on the record board in her arms, and his fingertips moved slightly away from the side of his terminal.

His hand did not immediately reach for the assignment sheet.

"So?" Gu Heng asked.

Horikita did not answer right away.

She flipped to the last page of the board, tore off a blank assignment sheet, and held it out to him.

"This sheet is yours."

"For the work ahead—assignments, resources, and contact with other classes—write up a plan first."

Gu Heng looked at the sheet without taking it immediately.

Horikita did not withdraw her hand. Her tone remained cold, still carrying her usual refusal to yield.

"On the surface, I'll continue to take charge."

"But from now on, you'll write on this sheet too."

"This doesn't mean I'm stepping aside."

"I know." Gu Heng nodded. "It's called division of labor."

"That was a decent thing for you to say for once."

The two looked at each other for a second.

Horikita was the first to look away, and the record board lightly tapped against her arm.

On the other side, Hirata walked over as well.

"I just finished calming down the people who were still anxious," he said. "They're tired now, but at least they no longer think they're definitely going to drag the whole class down at the slightest thing like they did at the beginning."

"That's good," Gu Heng said.

Hirata looked at him, his shoulders relaxing a little before the corners of his eyes curved as well.

"But there's something else I understand now."

"What?"

"You'd better stop trying to handle everything yourself from now on," Hirata said. "There were two times just now when they still instinctively came to you first. If you don't take a step back, it'll be hard for us to really take over."

Gu Heng gave a quiet grunt.

"I'll remember that."

"That doesn't sound like you really mean it."

"This time, I do."

Hirata shook his head, though his shoulders were looser than before.

"Fine. Then I'll believe you halfway for now."

Not far away, Sudo was already arguing with Ike Kanji and the others about another round of pointless nonsense.

It was nothing more than who had almost slowed everyone down, who snored too loudly at night, or whose face looked more ghostly during the day.

They argued, sure.

But after Sudo finished cursing, he only shoved the rope into Ike Kanji's hands instead of stepping forward to pressure him again.

Ike Kanji protested with his mouth, but his hands had already carried the shared water bag back to the middle.

Another boy sat down while grumbling, yet still handed the record board to Yukimura.

When the sky darkened, Gu Heng walked alone to the edge of the camp and stood at the windward side for a while.

The sea breeze was not gentle.

Horikita was still checking consumption with Yukimura over the record board.

The sounds of Hirata comforting people were kept low.

Sudo cursed twice, then tightened the section of rope around the perimeter again.

Kushida stood beside the girls' line, her smile as steady as ever.

Gu Heng swept his gaze across the different groups one by one, his fingers lightly curling at his side.

"What are you thinking about?"

The voice was calm.

And familiar.

Gu Heng turned around. As expected, it was Ayanokoji.

"I'm thinking that the first phase finally didn't drag our ranking back to last place," Gu Heng said.

Ayanokoji looked at him for two seconds.

"You really talk strangely sometimes."

"Likewise."

Ayanokoji stood beside him and looked out over the distant sea.

A few seconds passed before he spoke in an indifferent tone.

"Are you satisfied now?"

"With what?"

"When Horikita handed you the sheet just now, you didn't take it immediately," Ayanokoji said.

Gu Heng gripped the assignment sheet tighter, leaving a faint crease at the corner beneath his fingers.

Only then did he answer.

"Because if I took it, I'd have to keep writing."

Ayanokoji nodded.

"So you still took it."

"You seem pretty eager to comment today."

"Because this is obvious." Ayanokoji looked ahead, his tone remaining flat. "You'll keep going from here."

The corner of Gu Heng's mouth lifted briefly before flattening again.

"That sounds like an invitation."

"It isn't," Ayanokoji said. "It's a judgment."

"Then what's your judgment?"

The wind swept over, lightly lifting the stray hair on Ayanokoji's forehead.

He switched the coffee can from his left hand to his right, its bottom lightly tapping against his knuckles.

Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"What comes next will be more troublesome than today."

"This isn't a matter of whether I want to or not." Gu Heng looked at the sea in the night. "From the first day I entered this school, it was already impossible for me to just quietly survive."

"Now, more people have simply seen it."

Ayanokoji gave a quiet hum.

Gu Heng stood in place, drawing his gaze back from the sea.

His fingertips pressed against the edge of his terminal, while the assignment sheet Horikita had just torn off remained tucked in his other hand.

This was only the first phase.

Just then, his terminal vibrated.

It was not a private message.

It was a school-wide notification.

Gu Heng lowered his head. Several lines of text appeared on the screen.

Second Phase Preview.

Beginning at 06:00 tomorrow, each class's camp coordinates will enter dynamic evaluation.

Supply consumption, participant condition, and control of designated areas will all be included in the subsequent total score.

Each class should confirm for itself whether it still has the ability to maintain its current arrangements.

The sea breeze brushed past the back of his neck, its chill slipping in through his collar.

Gu Heng looked at those lines, and the shoulders and back that had only just relaxed slowly tensed again.

The first phase had only kept Class D's name in the middle of the results panel.

The real uninhabited island exam was only beginning now.