Practical Classroom: Kaoru Hanayama's Classroom of Merit

Beech Tree Shopping Center is a huge commercial complex that stands on campus.

This place is so large that it doesn't look like a high school's auxiliary facility at all. It has a coffee shop, karaoke, a movie theater, an electronics store, and everything from supermarkets to convenience stores, providing everything that can satisfy students' desires.

"This is amazing! They really have everything!"

"Alright, let's go buy some food first. We have way more points than we can use!"

The students passing by all had flushed faces from excitement and walked with unsteady steps.

That's understandable. This morning, their terminals were just credited with 100,000 points—equivalent to 100,000 yen, which is an unusually large sum for a high school student's allowance.

Leaving the noise behind, Kaoru Hanayama, alone, swayed her massive body and stepped into the convenience store on the first floor of the shopping mall.

I picked up a shopping basket that was piled up at the entrance. It was a sturdy shopping basket that could be seen everywhere, with thick metal wires threaded through the plastic mesh.

But in Hanayama's enormous hands, it looked like a child's toy.

On the display shelves, there are products that are no different from those outside, ranging from instant noodles to high-end bento boxes and toiletries from well-known manufacturers.

I glanced at the price tags: a regular drink was 150 points, and a rice ball was around 300 points. Without a doubt, one point was equivalent to one yen.

(...First, should we replenish daily necessities?)

Huashan strolled slowly through the store, browsing the various items. After looking at shampoo, toothbrushes, razors, and other goods, he suddenly stopped in front of a particular shelf.

Free Items Area - Limited to three items per person per month

Huashan squinted. There were toothbrushes, small bars of soap, and a large quantity of dried noodles, including plain-colored ones, haphazardly piled up in plain packaging without any decoration.

Naturally, there's no price tag. It really is "free".

"..."

If it were an ordinary student, they would probably just laugh and say, "What is this? It looks really poor," and then walk away, or think, "Since it's free, I'm really lucky," and casually toss it into the basket.

However, in Kaoru Hanayama's mind, the previously scattered information was connected into a thick line.

As the ruler at the pinnacle of the underworld known as the Gokudo, he has a very simple understanding of the truths of the world.

There's no such thing as a free lunch, and there's always something fishy going on behind money that's not worth its value.

Huashan took a quiet breath. During the morning class meeting, their homeroom teacher, Chazhu, coldly told them, "This school is meritocratic" and "You have corresponding value."

And, for these freshmen who haven't done anything yet, the huge sum of 100,000 points was casually deposited.

For the leader of the Hanayama Group, 100,000 yen was not even enough to give the lower-ranking underlings pocket money; it was literally just a drop in the ocean.

However, this is not the world of yakuza; he is just an ordinary high school student.

An ordinary high school student could never possibly earn 100,000 yen a month.

Try to think about it from the perspective of the yakuza world.

(If it were me, what would be the reason for suddenly paying a settlement fee far exceeding the market rate to a low-level subordinate who I don't even know if he'll be of any use?)

The answer is obvious. It's to demand that the other party hand over the "results" beyond that.

Giving money is itself a signal that you are required to pay a price equivalent to that amount.

You either have to risk your life to become a scapegoat, or successfully obtain the bribes, or seize territory from other gangs.

The strong take everything from the weak. In the extreme world, strength reigns supreme, and power is determined by violence, money, and the size of territory.

For Huashan, this is a rule as natural as breathing.

However, this is a high school, a state-established educational institution, and a gang fight is impossible here.

Given this, what price does this school demand from its new students?

It won't be money, and it certainly won't be violence.

The school's strength, the thing the school values ​​most, is undoubtedly—

(About studies, grades...)

A bead of cold sweat trickled down Hua Shan's thick face.

His ability to reign supreme as the absolute king in the underworld was entirely due to his innate physical strength, which even the gods feared, and his steely mental fortitude.

However, on the arena called "academics," where one holds a pencil, stares at a textbook, and competes for scores in paper-and-pencil exams, he is a complete loser.

He knew better than anyone how terrible his grades were during junior high school.

What if this huge sum of 100,000 yuan per month is an advance payment for the learning outcomes?

What if you slip up in the next exam and the school deems you worthless?

In the yakuza world, the consequences are either cutting off your fingers or being thrown into the sea. But in this school, it seems the point system will simply stop issuing points.

When your funds run out, all that awaits you is this pile of seemingly worthless, free plain noodles in this corner.

Terrifying visions surfaced in Huashan's mind.

Every night, I would curl up my huge body, lie on my small desk, staring at math formulas I couldn't understand at all, while slurping up free plain noodles without any side dishes.

For Huashan, that future was far more daunting than single-handedly storming the headquarters of an enemy organization.

(Does this mean... I'll end up having to study so hard just to keep up with my studies?)

Unconsciously, an unusually large amount of power was injected into Huashan's right hand.

The first to cry out was the thick, hard plastic.

The moment Huashan's thick fingers sank in, the plastic was crushed and cracked like a damp wafer.

Crunch, crunch...!

Hidden inside the plastic is a thick metal wire frame that supports the shopping basket. It twists and deforms with a squelching sound, as if it were being squeezed from both sides by a giant pair of pliers.

Coming to his senses, Huashan looked down at the horribly mangled piece of metal and plastic in his hand and clicked his tongue softly.

He picked up the fallen items and the completely tattered basket with both hands and slowly walked towards the cashier.

"Shampoo and toothpaste. And... I'll pay for this basket too. Sorry, please pay with this."

After silently receiving the terminal from the trembling clerk, Hanayama didn't look back at the free section and left the convenience store with slow, heavy steps.

(Studying, huh...)

Walking in the sunlight at the Beech Tree Shopping Center, Huashan covered his scarred face with his huge hands.

For him, this was the beginning of a new life that was far more painful and even stomach-churning than the bloodshed and conflict in the yakuza world.