Once everyone realized Yukio's entire class had already disembarked and headed straight for their movement zones, the other classes went absolutely feral—like someone lit a match inside their chest and let it burn.
Every minute, someone ran to ask the ship workers if the gangways were fixed yet, how much longer, when they could get off… and every answer was the same:
"Wait a bit more."
Which nearly drove people insane.
"How's it looking?! How much longer are you gonna take fixing this crap?! Don't tell me we're stuck up here all day! If that happens, doesn't that mean all three of today's movement instructions count as 'failed to arrive'?!"
"It… it shouldn't, right? I asked the workers like six times. One guy—nice older dude—said it's not really repairable. A hinge section snapped, so they have to replace the hinges entirely."
"Then how long does that take?! It's been over an hour! Why isn't it done yet?!"
"Damn it—no, I can't wait anymore! Why don't we just do what they did and drop a lifeboat too?! If Yukio's class can pull it off, we can too!"
"Not happening. The workers and the homeroom teachers are watching now. Yukio's class got to call it an 'accident.' If we try it now, it's obviously intentional."
"…Today, the two words I hate most are by accident."
No matter how furious they got, it didn't change reality. They could only wait—so long, in fact, that noon rolled around and the cruise ship started serving lunch.
Thank god this special exam included a two-hour lunch break with no movement instructions, because otherwise people might've genuinely snapped.
Then, right in the middle of lunch, word spread:
The gangways were fixed. Students could finally disembark.
Instantly, the crowd surged like a tidal wave. People didn't even bother finishing their food—everyone just wanted off the ship now, before something accidentally went wrong again.
Because look… you don't have to be paranoid to understand this: If they waited too long, what if some other class copied Yukio's stunt and sabotaged the gangways again?
Being nice is optional. Being cautious isn't.
So the moment they were allowed, everyone rushed down.
The harbor facilities were surprisingly well-equipped—there were storage areas for food and water, repair materials and equipment, and even rows of small shower rooms and toilets.
It wasn't hard to imagine the intended trap here: if your exchanged water ran out, you could return to the starting point and refill for free… but that round trip would burn so much time you might miss the next movement instruction—or even two.
So students had to manage water carefully and decide what mattered more: staying stocked, or staying on pace.
Some people planned to just refill at the start if needed.
Others were already thinking about hunting for tasks that rewarded water in the field.
Right by the harbor was a bright golden beach. The school had even set up two neat rows of parasols and reclining chairs—if this weren't an exam, it'd honestly be a pretty decent vacation spot.
But nobody was in the mood to appreciate any of that.
Most students had one thought. Catch up to Yukio's class before they snowball the lead.
So a ton of them skipped resting and eating entirely. They figured they'd already been forced to "rest" on the ship anyway, so they might as well push out immediately—even under the brutal midday sun.
Only a small number of sharper students stayed at the harbor, lying down and conserving energy. They knew the school wouldn't issue the day's second movement instruction until the lunch break ended.
Before that, running around was just a pointless way to drain stamina—and precious water.
Soon enough, the time hit 1:00 PM, and a new instruction dropped.
This time, all three grades exploded into motion.
Teams scattered in every direction based on their assigned zones. The nine-grid area near the starting point turned chaotic—everywhere you looked, there was a team or two moving through.
Second-years and third-years had island experience, so they adapted… sort of.
But for first-years?
This exam was miserable.
The island jungle was thick and uneven—every step could be mud, swamp, or some nasty patch of marsh. Bugs were everywhere, and any first-year who hadn't exchanged for repellent or bug spray was immediately regretting their entire life.
Of course, the island was huge. You didn't have to enter the forest.
There were also open dirt roads outside the jungle—flatter, easier footing, none of the swampy nonsense… but holy hell, it was hot.
No shade. No cover. Just sunlight blasting straight down at 1:00 PM. If you stayed out too long, not getting heatstroke felt like a miracle.
While people struggled through their routes, one second-year team suddenly stopped and glanced back toward the dirt road outside the trees.
"Did you guys hear that?"
"Hear what?"
They'd chosen a path between the forest and the open road—less mud, less bugs, and at least some shade.
"Like… an engine?"
"An engine? Is the school doing safety patrols? Or—wait—did we run into a task instructor?"
The moment task was mentioned, everyone's eyes lit up.
This second island exam wasn't only about movement points. Tasks were the other major scoring source.
"Hurry—check the mini tablet! It shows task info, right?"
"Yeah, yeah—hold on… huh? Wait. There's no task near us. The closest one is still over a kilometer away."
"Then what's that sound?"
They all turned.
And then they saw it.
A beat-up old off-road vehicle came rattling down the path, wobbling like it might fall apart at any moment.
That thing was ancient—so dusty you couldn't even describe its original color anymore.
But it ran.
And its engine was loud as hell.
"Wait—Is that… Ryuuen from Yukio's class?!"
"What?! How is Ryuuen driving a car?!"
"Did Yukio's class steal an off-road vehicle from the luxury cruise ship?!"
"No way. The cruise ship wouldn't have some junky off-road car like that. And we're all second-years—Ryuuen's definitely underage, right? He shouldn't even have a license! How is he driving?!"
"This is an uninhabited island, not downtown. Who's gonna pull him over? The real question is—how did they get a car in the first place?! This is cheating!"
And honestly… they weren't wrong.
With the heat, most teams avoided the open road. If one class had vehicles, their movement instructions were basically guaranteed first place almost every time.
You can't outrun a car on foot—especially not in this weather.
And then came the real gut punch. It wasn't just one team seeing one vehicle.
Teams from all three grades started reporting the same thing—different drivers, different plates, different locations.
Which meant Yukio's class hadn't gotten one off-road vehicle.
They'd gotten a bunch.
"Cheating! This is absolutely cheating, right?! We're doing survival on an island, and they're out here racing!"
"I'm reporting this to the school! Screw moving—we're going back to the starting point right now! Yukio's class is 100% cheating!"