—

  —

  As the newly released rankings spread through the school, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The reactions were a chaotic blend, with some celebrating while others questioned how certain names climbed so high or fell so low.

  To most, Tomiko being ranked number one wasn’t exactly shocking. Seeing my own name right behind hers, though, caught me off guard. Not because I doubted myself, but because I hadn’t even gone all out yet. I had no complaints, though. She earned her place, and I genuinely respected her for it.

  What truly shocked me was Diya.

  Despite her average academics, she had landed in the top five. At first, it didn’t make sense until I remembered the system measured more than test scores. In that light, her brilliance was obvious.

  Certain students were very concerned, since anyone below fifty percent was now staring at expulsion if they didn’t improve fast.

  The past week had been a storm of chatter and speculation, and today, I had an appointment. At the campus pond, I spotted Yoko leaning against the old wooden fence, watching koi drift beneath lily pads. She didn’t turn when I approached, but I knew she heard me.

  I rested my arms on the fence beside her.

  “I need a favour,” I said.

  She shot me a sharp side-eye. “Figured as much.”

  “The festival committee and I are heading out tomorrow,” I continued.

  “Everyone knows that,” she replied flatly.

  “With the cultural festival coming up, things are getting... tight. Hazel’s buried in work, and the rest of the council are stretched thin. I need you to help them.”

  Yoko was quiet, then let out a long sigh.

  “I get it—you have the right to refuse,” I added. “But I’m asking.”

  She turned toward me, eyebrow raised. “I should get paid for this.”

  “How many points?”

  She blinked, caught off guard. “Am I really that indispensable? Even willing to pay?”

  “You proved yourself during the elections. I know what you’re capable of,” I said.

  She glanced back at the pond. “Just buy me snacks then.”

  “Done,” I replied instantly.

  “And answer my question.” Her eyes flicked back to me. “Do you regret it?”

  “Regret what?”

  “Running. Becoming president. I wanted the position too, so I’m wondering… was it worth it?”

  I hesitated, then admitted, “Some days, yeah—I do regret it.”

  Yoko stayed quiet.

  “The meetings, the paperwork, the pressure… it’s exhausting. And now with the cultural festival, it’s only worse,” I said. Then I drew a breath. “But I like the challenge. I want to make things better. So yeah, I complain a lot, but it’s been quite the experience.”

  She studied me, unreadable. “That’s quite the take.”

  “Well, maybe if you were in my shoes, you’d feel differently,” I said.

  “Maybe.” She pushed off the fence, stretching her arms above her head. “I’ll handle things while you’re gone. Don’t worry. Enjoy your trip.”

  I watched her silhouette fade into the night. Alone again, I turned back to the pond and exhaled.

  —

  —

  Tomorrow arrived in a flash—the day we had all been waiting for.

  The group was sizeable and carefully organised. In total, there were 52 of us: 30 participants, 4 medical staff, 8 support crew, 4 security personnel, 4 exam coordinators, a supervisor and me, the designated observer.

  We left the campus just after 9 a.m., boarding a bus that took us to the train station. The journey from Osaka to Takaoka in Toyama Prefecture took about seven hours with four line changes. The school had gone all out, ensuring the compartments were spacious and comfortable. I watched the landscape shift from urban sprawl to lush countryside as the hours ticked by.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  By the time we arrived at the Takaoka train station, the sky glowed with late afternoon light. Two large buses carried us deeper into the forest, the road winding between towering trees.

  One by one, we stepped off, shouldering our bags. Some stretched, others looked around in awe, and a few immediately started taking photos. I paused for a moment, looking up at the massive trees that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the sky.

  Ahead stood the main lodge, which was constructed entirely from polished dark wood and stone, giving off a rustic, almost shrine-like aesthetic, perfectly nestled among the roots of the forest. We were instructed to move our belongings inside.

  “Everyone, gather around,” called Mr Akihiko Sato, the exam supervisor. From a makeshift raised platform at the room’s centre, he addressed us once the group formed a circle. Diya stood close at my side.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” Sato-sensei began. “Over the next six days, you will be competing in teams in this special exam designed to test your teamwork, adaptability, and resourcefulness. The festival committee members are responsible for selecting six members to join their teams.”

  “Each team starts with 100 points, which can be used to purchase essential items and features. Throughout the exam, random blips will appear on the map for one hour each. Reaching them will earn your team points, and the faster you arrive, the more points you earn.”

  “Your campsite will serve as your team’s base. All members must return by 10 p.m. sharp. Failure to do so will result in penalties.”

  “For the duration of the exam,” Sato-sensei continued, “communication with anyone outside the grounds is strictly restricted. You are off-grid until we return to campus.”

  “At the end of the six days, your team’s total points will be multiplied by 100 and awarded to each member as personal points.” A ripple of gasps swept through the crowd; clearly, that was a huge incentive. “Furthermore, the team with the highest score will be declared the winner. Each member will receive an additional 10,000 points and a 5% share increase from their class pool.”

  A 5% share increase? That meant class points. If multiple students from the same class won, would those percentage increases stack?

  Before I could consider it further, Sato-sensei’s next words dropped like a stone.

  “However, the team with the lowest number of points will have all its members expelled.”

  The crowd erupted. I glanced at Diya, who had her eyes forward and hadn’t flinched. Like me, she’d already anticipated this possibility.

  Sato-sensei raised a hand for silence, and the noise ebbed.

  “In addition, a cypher has been shared to your phones. Decoding it will reveal the location of a special badge which grants single-use immunity from expulsion.”

  An immunity badge? The school introducing a mechanism like this would definitely shake things up. If someone on the lowest-ranked team found it, they’d be spared, even if their teammates weren’t.

  Of course, there was the issue of the cypher, and I doubted the school would make it simple.

  “You have one hour to form your teams,” Sato-sensei concluded. “Further details are in the exam manual on your phones. Welcome to the first special exam—”

  With that, he stepped down, and the crowd immediately fractured into huddles, pulling out their phones. Beside me, Diya tilted her head, eyes scanning the crowd.

  “Well,” she murmured, “this is something, isn’t it?”

  She sighed softly, brushing her fingers through her hair.

  “Do you know who to choose yet?” I asked, keeping my eyes on her.

  “At the moment, not—” she began, but her sentence faded, and I turned to see Miss Riko approaching.

  “Marcus, come with me,” she said, not slowing her pace as she walked past us.

  I gave Diya a quick nod and jogged after her, weaving through clusters of students. We made our way through the lounge, which buzzed with staff and support crew moving briskly, reviewing manifests and preparing supplies.

  Eventually, she stopped before a sliding door of frosted paper and light wood, sliding it open to reveal a washitsu: tatami floors, a low table, cushions, and faint incense lingering in the still air.

  Inside sat Akemi Ikeda-sensei, Mr Petr Bure?, and Miss Sarah Hagy, who were the other coordinators. Each looked up as I entered.

  I bowed and took a seat opposite them. “Good afternoon.”

  “Our student council president,” Mr Bure? said with a faint smile. “It is nice to finally work with you.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” I replied, glancing at each face as Miss Riko knelt beside Miss Sarah.

  “Let’s get into this,” Ikeda-sensei said as she picked up a folder from the table and slid it toward me. “The exam’s full breakdown is in here. Review it after we finish.”

  I rested my hands on the folder. “May I ask a question before we continue?”

  Ikeda-sensei gave me a silent nod.

  “Does this file explain my role here… why I’m on this trip?”

  “No,” Miss Riko answered flatly, before anyone else spoke. “That’s what we’re here to clarify. You are here solely as an observer. You will not participate in or influence the exam.”

  I nodded slowly. “Am I wrong to assume this was Mr Warren Mars’s idea?”

  That got a reaction as the coordinators exchanged glances.

  “Your suspicions are correct,” Miss Riko admitted. “So you understand the delicate position we’re in.”

  “I understand,” I said quietly.

  “To prevent you from assisting teams,” Miss Sarah added, “your access to sensitive data will be restricted. You’ll also wear a lapel microphone whenever you interact with them. All conversations will be monitored to ensure neutrality.”

  “Thorough. Well, I won’t argue. So I assume that means even the solution to the cypher won’t be available to me?”

  “Correct,” Miss Sarah confirmed.

  “But nothing stops me from trying to decode it myself?”

  “Nothing at all,” Miss Riko said. “In fact, we encourage it. Simulate how a team should approach each challenge. Your insights would be valuable.”

  “Ah, I see, so you want to pick my brain,” I murmured, tapping the table with my knuckles. Then I let out a breath. “Fine. I’ll play the role.”

  “Excellent.” Miss Riko stood, the others following. “We have other duties to attend to. You won’t rejoin the others until tonight, but feel free to explore the grounds in the meantime. Just notify a staff member first.”

  “Understood.”

  They gave me a final nod and left, the sliding door clicking shut behind them.

  Now alone, I opened the folder and flipped through the pages. The map, rules, and scoring rubrics were all there. This special exam was going to be more intricate than I’d expected.

  , huh?