"Senpaku, I am Sakamoto. What brings you here?"

He was completely immersed in a meditative state of high-speed writing, and his focused and effortless demeanor, in the eyes of others, exuded an indescribable, highly professional, and mysterious charm.

It was as if he wasn't in a classroom, but rather conducting a crucial and precise calculation.

An eerie silence fell over the classroom. Majima forgot to continue the Q&A session, her gaze fixed with a complicated expression on Sakamoto's notebook, which was mostly obscured by his left hand, with only the rapidly flying pen tip visible.

Sakayanagi Arisu's fingertips began to tap rhythmically and gently on the smooth tip of her cane again, her gaze deep and unfathomable.

This silent game of chess seemed to have introduced an unpredictable, elegant, and mysterious variable sooner than she had anticipated. And this variable, in every gesture, possessed a unique charm that was impossible to ignore.

Image: "Arisu Sakayanagi", Location: "Images/1754739113-100448215-113691271.jpg"

First Year Enrollment: Chapter 004: Sakamoto, Who Understands Everything

After a while, Majima Tomoya's deep voice finally fell, and the routine explanation of the "Key Points of Advanced Nurturing High Schools" came to an end.

His sharp gaze swept across the class one last time, lingering for half a second on the seat by the window—Sakamoto himself—before turning around and leaving the classroom with steady steps.

The door closed gently behind him, as if shutting off some invisible pressure valve.

Instantly, the tense air rippled outwards like a stone thrown into water.

The elites of Class A, while still maintaining a basic level of decorum, were visibly relaxed, and whispers began to drift between the desks and chairs. However, most of their gazes were drawn as if by a magnet, focusing unanimously on the seat at the back of the classroom by the window—Sakamoto.

He had stopped writing rapidly and dazzlingly at some point.

The pen rests quietly on the notebook, the right hand maintains an extremely relaxed yet tense posture—the thumb and forefinger gently pinch the end of the pen, the other three fingers are naturally extended, and the elbow rests elegantly on the table, as if what has just been completed is not a high-speed calculation, but an exquisite sketch.

His composed demeanor formed a striking contrast to his focused concentration while writing.

Katsuragi Kohei was the first to make a move.

His imposing figure strode steadily to Sakamoto's table, his hands habitually clasped behind his back, his posture upright, his bald head appearing serious and dignified in the sunlight.

His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes scrutinizing and puzzled, his voice low but not aggressive:

"Sakamoto-san, what were you writing just now? That question, you seem to have figured something out?"

His gaze fell on the notebook in Sakamoto's hand.

Immediately after, Hashimoto Masayoshi, with his signature sunny smile, joined in, nimbly squeezing next to Katsuragi, his eyes gleaming with undisguised curiosity:

"Wow! Sakamoto-kun, that was so cool! Interrupting the teacher and then saying 'I understand'! What exactly did you understand? Tell me! And that notebook, is it hiding the secret of the S system?"

He tried to peek into the notebook to see its contents.

Although Kamuro Masumi maintained her distance, her indifferent purple eyes also turned in this direction, and she unconsciously took a few steps closer.

Even the hunchbacked ghost in the corner quietly left his seat and stood like a shadow on the outer edge of the crowd. Under his thick curly hair, his gaze was fixed on Sakamoto and the notebook in his hand through the gaps in his hair.

Sakamoto became the center of the storm.

Despite Katsuragi's serious questioning, Hashimoto's enthusiastic inquiry, Kamuro's silent gaze, and Kito Hayato's silent observation, Sakamoto's expression remained unchanged.

He calmly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the group of people surrounding him from behind his black-rimmed glasses, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

He did not answer Katsuragi's question directly, nor did he pay attention to Hashimoto's follow-up questions.

Under everyone's gaze, he made an extremely smooth movement: his left hand remained firmly pressed on the notebook page, while his right hand elegantly picked up the pen that had just been put down.

Then, amidst the curious gazes of the crowd, Sakamoto's left hand moved.

With his left hand, he deftly and precisely tore the page full of writing off the notebook as if by magic!

The movements were gentle and swift, conveying an undeniable sense of control.

Then, under the focused gaze of Katsuragi, the surprised Hashimoto, the bewildered Kamuro, and the even more intently gaze of Kito Hayato, Sakamoto began to fold the paper with both hands.

His fingers were long and nimble, and his movements were fluid and graceful, without the slightest hesitation or pause.

The paper flew between his fingers, folded, and creased... so fast that the specific steps were almost invisible, yet it carried a strange sense of rhythm and beauty.

A few seconds later, a simple, angular paper airplane lay quietly in Sakamoto's outstretched palm.

All eyes in the class were focused on the little paper airplane.

It was folded from that mysterious piece of paper, carrying the results of Sakamoto's furious writing and the biggest question in everyone's mind.

Sakamoto picked up the paper airplane, looked calmly at Katsuragi Kohei, and spoke in a clear and gentle voice:

"Katsura-kun, what's important isn't 'what I've understood'."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Hashimoto, Kamuro, and Kito Hayabusa, his voice steady and clear.

"But 'we' need to understand that although points are deposited into personal accounts, their value may not belong solely to the individual."

He gently weighed the paper airplane in his hand, his posture elegant:

"Ms. Mashima is right, the points are indeed available for personal use."

His words clearly reached everyone's ears.

"But please pay attention to the 'inseparable' aspect of his words—the individual's score is closely linked to the collective's honor and disgrace."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting towards the upper-level teaching building outside the window, as if pointing something out:

"Points are numbers, they are resources. They can buy anything, but perhaps,"

He turned his gaze to the paper airplane in his palm, his fingertips lightly brushing the edge of the wing, his tone carrying a hint of kind reminder.

"It is better able to measure the value of intangible things—such as the value of our 'Class A' itself."

Katsuragi's brows furrowed, and the confusion in his eyes gradually gave way to contemplation; Hashimoto's smile faded, replaced by serious thought; Kamuro's purple eyes seemed to hold even deeper bewilderment, but also a stronger sense of inquiry; Kito Hayato's gaze, hidden beneath his curly hair, seemed to flash for a moment.

"As for this,"

Sakamoto held up the paper airplane in his hand, pointing it at the light streaming in from the window. The paper airplane twirled slightly between his fingertips.

"It doesn't carry an answer, but rather a reminder."

He smiled slightly, a smile that was gentle yet carried a hint of profound meaning:

"Some things are clearer when you see them with your own eyes and verify them with your own hands than when you hear them."

As soon as he finished speaking, before anyone could fully grasp the meaning behind his words, Sakamoto flicked his wrist slightly—

The paper airplane, folded from the mysterious notebook, seemed to come alive, gliding lightly and swiftly from his fingertips!

It didn't fly towards anyone.

It drew a low, precise arc and flew straight toward the open window!

The paper airplane gracefully flew through the window frame, glided briefly in the afternoon sunlight, and then precisely adjusted its direction, heading towards the huge, clearly categorized trash can across from the teaching building—downstairs in the teaching building where the upper grades were located!

"Clap."

With a soft thud, the paper airplane landed steadily in the bin labeled "Recyclable"!

Sakamoto withdrew his gaze and calmly added:

"There are no trash cans in our new classroom right now, so this is the only way to solve the problem temporarily. Sorry."

This sudden action and explanation stunned everyone! Katsuragi opened his mouth, Hashimoto's eyes widened, Kamuro subconsciously took half a step forward, and Kito Hayabusa's gaze followed the disappearing trajectory of the paper airplane.

Sakamoto, however, had stopped paying attention to the paper airplane. He calmly stood up and smoothly adjusted the collar and cuffs of his burgundy school uniform, meticulously attending to every detail.

Then, he bowed slightly to the group gathered around the table—Katsuragi, Hashimoto, Kamuro, and Kito Hayato a little further away—his posture as elegant as a gentleman bidding farewell:

"Excuse me, everyone."

Having said that, Sakamoto started walking without waiting for anyone to react.

His steps remained steady and fluid, each step seemingly measured in distance, his arm swings perfectly controlled, his shoulders and back ramrod straight. He weaved through the gaps in the crowd that parted automatically, heading towards the classroom door.

Just as he was about to step out of the classroom, he seemed to remember something, paused slightly, and turned to the side.

The afternoon sun slanted in through the corridor window, gilding his tall figure with a golden edge.

He pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, the lenses reflecting a cold and dazzling glint of light that briefly illuminated the dark brown beauty mark under his left eye.

He addressed the students in the classroom, a fleeting yet mysteriously charming smile playing on his lips, his voice clear and gentle:

May all your points be used in a 'worthwhile' way.

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned around and disappeared into the sunlit corridor outside the classroom.

The classroom of Class 1A remained silent.

Katsuragi Kohei stood still, his brows still furrowed, but the seriousness in his eyes had been replaced by deep contemplation. He subconsciously looked out the window towards the direction of the upperclassmen's building.

Hashimoto Masayoshi scratched his head, a smile returning to his face, but now tinged with contemplation. He muttered to himself:

"What's so 'worth it' about? This guy is really interesting."

Kamuro Masumi stood still, her purple eyes fixed on the doorway where Sakamoto had disappeared, and for the first time, a clear expression of "curiosity" appeared on her usually indifferent face.

Kito Hayabusa silently walked to the window, looking at the trash can across the street. His thick curly hair framed a deep gaze.

Meanwhile, Sakayanagi Arisu remained seated, rhythmically tapping the smooth tip of her cane with her fingertips.

She looked in the direction where Sakamoto had disappeared, the playful smile on her lips deepening.

The paper airplane that flew towards the upperclassmen's building, the reminder about "worth it," and the elegant and mysterious figure disappearing into the sunlight... This variable named Sakamoto has placed an unpredictable piece on the chessboard of Class A, an elite group.

First Year Enrollment: Chapter 005: Sakamoto Outside the Window

Sunlight slanted through the connecting corridor of the teaching building, cutting out geometric patches of light and shadow on the clean window glass.

Sakamoto's figure moved through the corridor with a steady and elegant pace, like a precisely calibrated pendulum, the hem of his burgundy school uniform fluttering with each step.

He stopped outside the back window of Class 1B, like a silhouette blending into the background, with only his glasses flashing a cold light under the refraction of the light.

The air in Class B was thick and warm, like it was soaked in honey.

The young men and women, still carrying the shyness of first meeting, gathered in twos and threes after their self-introductions, exchanging their expectations for their new lives.

Beside the podium, a girl with long pink hair was bending over to organize the newly distributed "Key Points Handbook," her fingertips tracing the school badge, a carefree smile on her face—until she caught a glimpse of the still silhouette outside the window.

Honami Ichinose paused slightly.

That boy looks familiar? I think I saw him at the opening ceremony? He seems to be in Class A.

He stood tall and straight like a pine tree, one hand casually in his pocket, the other hanging naturally at his sides.

Behind his black-rimmed glasses, his gaze calmly swept over every face in the classroom, not scrutinizing, but rather with a gentle observation.

It's like getting to know potential future partners or competitors.

When his gaze swept over her, he nodded slightly, and a faint, polite smile seemed to curve at the corners of his mouth, as if he were giving a silent greeting. Then he looked away naturally, as if glancing over a detail worth appreciating in a landscape painting.

"What are you looking at, Ichinose-kun?"

The girl next to her turned her head in the direction of her gaze.

There was no one outside the window; only the dappled shadows of the trees swaying in the wind on the windowsill.

"nothing,"

Fanbo smiled and shook his head, but his fingertips unconsciously traced the cover of the manual.

"I just feel like... someone is measuring the world with a ruler."

She murmured to herself, curious about the boy's behavior, but only left with a calm and slightly benevolent impression of his profile.

A faint murmur hung in the air of Class C. The desks and chairs were arranged somewhat haphazardly, a few boys huddled together discussing something in hushed tones, and someone in the back row was taking a nap with their head resting on the desk.

Long Yuanxiang leaned against the window, twirling an eraser between his fingers, letting it roll and bounce between his knuckles, his gaze idly drifting out the window—until the eraser suddenly stopped.

A figure stopped outside the window.

He wore black-rimmed glasses, stood as straight as a javelin, and calmly surveyed the entire classroom.

That posture, that look in his eyes.

Long Yuan's lips curled into an undisguised sneer. He was just putting on an act.

Is this guy like a peacock inspecting its territory, checking each class in turn?