Practical Classroom: Kaoru Hanayama's Classroom of Merit

By the time I left the judo club, the sun had completely set, and orange streetlights were equidistantly lit up on the artificial island.

Kaoru Hanayama walked slowly along the nighttime path leading from the Beechwood Shopping Center to her dormitory, her hands in her pockets.

In his mind, the pieces of the puzzle called intelligence that he had acquired throughout the day were coming together at an astonishing speed, gradually forming a huge panoramic picture.

That straightforward martial artist named Daiki, who was even somewhat clumsy.

Also, there's the kind-hearted senior I met in the tea ceremony club.

Their words made Huashan fully understand the true essence of the rules that the school was desperately trying to hide.

Huashan walked through the lobby on the first floor of the dormitory and stopped at the corner of the vending machine located at the back of the building.

I casually pressed the button on the short can of black coffee.

With a "clang," I picked up the cold, fallen can and flicked the pull tab away with my fingertip.

As he poured the intensely bitter liquid deep into his throat, Hanayama sat down on the bench.

The starting point for this reflection is about privilege.

The information revealed by the senior students in the tea ceremony club is that there are upper and lower ranks in the class.

The pyramid structure in the yakuza world is a strict hierarchy divided into the main family, direct lineage, and peripheral organizations.

The higher you climb, the more definite promises you receive in terms of money, power, and even the safety of your life.

So, what exactly are the privileges of Class A, which is at the top of this prestigious school?

Humans will not risk their lives for meaningless competition.

If the price of victory were merely honor or a certificate, smart people would have quit the game long ago.

However, if all students are bound to this harsh rule and bar their fangs in order to climb up, then it is only natural that there will be rewards.

hundred percent.

Whether it's a top-tier university, a key national position, or a leading company, any path one desires can be guaranteed by the power of the state – an absolute passport.

If this level of bait is offered, then it's only natural that young people would fight it with bloodshot eyes.

For students, there could be nothing more valuable than this.

Huashan let out a soft breath.

If this were a gangland shootout outside, things would be much simpler.

violence.

That is the most primitive and persuasive problem-solving method that humankind can master.

The matter is simple: if the rule is that only those who graduate from Class A can obtain privileges, then what is the fastest way to obtain those privileges?

Under the cover of darkness, attack the top students in Class A one by one, break their arm bones, shatter their kneecaps, and turn them into useless people who can't even hold a pen to take an exam.

If it's a struggle within the yakuza world, then it can even be considered common sense.

Physically eliminating the obstructive top-level obstacles is the fastest way to achieve success.

However, this is a school run by the state.

To prevent such barbaric violence from overturning the chessboard, the rules must be bound by the strongest chains.

The punishment for an individual is expulsion, which is the same in regular schools.

However, the deterrent power that surpasses that means that if a classmate causes a major violent incident, the class points of that class will likely be stripped away to the point that they can never recover.

The current situation has been grasped, and the full picture of the rules has been understood.

So, the next step is to decide how to proceed.

In the yakuza world, intelligence is lifeblood.

The opponent's weaknesses, the police's movements, the smell of business.

The freshest intelligence always gets traded at ridiculously high prices.

The intelligence that Huashan currently possesses is undoubtedly the most valuable diamond.

However, this diamond has an expiration date.

No matter how late, it will be May 1st of next month.

Once the system issues an assessment and presents the facts on the terminal at hand, this intelligence will plummet to the level of common sense, something known to all students in the school.

The only thing of value is the present moment, which no one knows about.

(If I keep this to myself until the end of the month, the diamond I'm holding will turn into trash. ...In that case...)

Those who follow the yakuza path will never miss an opportunity to make money.

"Tomorrow, let's go and make a deal with a certain class."

Those smart classes that have begun to realize the crisis in their position and have plenty of points.

Is it Class A? Is it Class B? Or Class C?

Although it is still unknown who reigns supreme, there are as many adversaries to whom information can be sold.

Huashan stared at the empty coffee can resting in his palm.

So, what should you do about your own class, D?

(If left unchecked, it will undoubtedly drop to zero by the beginning of next month.)

Looking back on the entire day of classes.

Sudo, who's dozing off; Ike, who's playing on his phone; and Yamauchi, who's all talk and no action.

And a large group of other unsuspecting rabble, completely oblivious to the danger.

Every snore they make during class is like an unseen blade slicing away points that should have become their flesh and blood next month.

(If they're underlings of the Hanayama group, I'll teach them a lesson even if I beat them half to death.)

The organization known as the Hanayama Group is the result of men who were captivated by Hanayama Kaoru's absolute strength and chivalry, and who voluntarily gathered together by exchanging drinks.

They are committed to the organization, and Huashan has the obligation to guide them, and sometimes even to protect them by shedding blood.

But what about Class D?

It's just a gathering place where schools randomly put together boys from different backgrounds and upbringings into the same class.

There was no exchanging of drinks, no loyalty, and most importantly, those guys didn't acknowledge Hanayama Kaoru as their leader at all.

But the faces of those guys from Class D flashed through his mind.

Hirata and Kushida desperately tried to put on a smile to make the situation look better.

And then there's Horikita, who, despite his prickly attitude, still helped Hanayama, who was gripped by fear of somen, choose reference books.

"The saying goes, 'Even a chance encounter is a predestined connection from a past life.'"

Huashan muttered something under his breath.

They were not brothers who had shared a toast.

However, in the world of the yokai, the concept of fate sometimes carries a heavier meaning than money.

(I'd be ruthless and demand exorbitant prices from other classes. But for the guys in my class, out of fate and because of the pretty good atmosphere, I'll go easy on them a little.)

We're not giving them intelligence for free; we'll make them pay a price no matter what.

Because without pain, an idiot absolutely cannot remember the rules.

But they won't become the kind of evil spirits who squeeze every last penny out of them.

That is, Kaoru Hanayama's expression of benevolence and righteousness towards Class D, her new home.

The evening breeze brought a slight chill.

Tomorrow, in this meritocratic school, a yakuza will drop a bomb called "business."

The huge figure slowly disappeared at the entrance of the dormitory.