CHAPTER 51: Negotiation
Berry let out a sharp sigh, breaking through the heavy, suffocating silence that had settled over the booth. "Look, let's just forget about the strategy for now," she suggested, waving a hand dismissively. "We're clearly not going to agree on that. Let's focus on the rules of this tournament instead and share our insights."
Victor gave a slow, approving nod from across the table. "Class A accepts."
"Fine by me," I added, leaning forward again. Anything was better than watching Ashley and Zack stare past each other in painful silence.
Adrian pulled out a digital tablet, scrolling through the official packet. "Alright, I'll start," he said, clearing his throat as he read aloud Rule One. "'All students ought to participate in at least one tournament event. No one is permitted to sit on the sidelines.'"
Ray nodded his head slowly, tracking the logic. "That means every single student in our ranks has to participate. Personally, I think there's no problem with that one. It's straightforward."
Murmurs of agreement went around the table. It was standard procedure for school-wide events.
"Moving on to Rule Two," Adrian continued, leaning over the screen. "'No students are allowed to participate in two separate tournaments—with the sole exception of the designated Class Leader, who holds the authority to participate in all tournament events. Furthermore, if a class's student count is too low to fulfill the roster requirements for a specific event, that class will be granted a special variance to allow repeat participation.'"
I tapped my chin, breaking it down for our side. "So, the baseline is that regular students can only participate in exactly one event. The leaders are the wildcard wildcards who can step into anything."
"Yes," Victor murmured, his dark eyes locking onto Luke and me, a sharp, dangerous glint reflecting in them. "But it looks like there is a distinct advantage granted to Class C here. After all, you guys only have 24 boys and 14 girls left... since Dayana was expelled."
A hot surge of fury spiked through me at the casual, mocking way he dropped her name. My hand clenched into a tight fist, grabbing a fistful of my own shirt as I glared across the table, trying to keep myself from leaping over it. He was intentionally poking at our open wounds.
Before I could snap, Isabelle Rin intervened, her voice smooth and clinical as she brought the focus back to the technicalities. "However, they do have a strict restriction tied to that variance. Look at Rule Seven: 'This repeat participation will only be triggered if every single student in the class who hasn't played an event yet has already been selected, and the roster still requires more students to fill the team. You cannot reuse players if you have eligible students sitting on the bench.'"
Isabelle looked up from her notes, her expression entirely neutral. "So that means you still have to force everyone to play at least once before you can even think about repeating your top assets."
Ashley shifted her gaze over to our end of the table, her eyes lingering on Luke before dodging Zack entirely. "So, Luke... based on that restriction, I think you might have to use Zack first to clear the bench properly."
Luke narrowed his eyes slightly, looking directly at Ashley. "Why? Is it because of your anger against him for not trusting you?"
The air at the table instantly turned icy. Ashley flinched as if she'd been struck, her expression tightening into a look of raw hurt.
"Luke," Zack's voice broke through, low, gravelly, and laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't talk about it."
Luke caught the warning in Zack's tone and held up his hands, backing off. He let out a quiet exhale. "Maybe you are right, Ashley. We'll have to see how the roster plays out."
Trying to shatter the suffocating tension, Adrian quickly jumped back into his tablet, reading out the next guideline. "Alright, moving on to Rule Three. 'All senior classes are strictly allowed to form an alliance only with the specific classes assigned to them by the administration. You do not get to choose your partners.'"
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand as I looked around the table. "Alright, let's break this down. Let's start this with everyone telling who their assigned alliances are. Why don't we start with Class A?"
Victor leaned back, his expression entirely detached. "Class A has been assigned an alliance with the 1st-year Class B and the 2nd-year Class C."
Ashley went next, her voice a bit stiffer than usual as she shook off the lingering tension with Zack. "We have an alliance with the 1st-year Class A and the 2nd-year Class B."
Luke checked his own digital packet. "For Class C, we have the alliance with the 1st-year Class C and the 2nd-year Class A."
"And that leaves us," Ray concluded with a small, wry smile. "Class D has the alliance with all years of Class D. It's a full vertical alignment for us."
Berry nodded, absorbing the information, but then her eyes flickered over to Luke as a thought struck her. "Wait, Luke... what actually happened to the 1st-year Class C after Melvin got arrested? Who is running things down there now?"
"Well, they have their leader now," Luke answered smoothly.
I whipped my head toward Luke, my eyes widening in genuine shock. "Wait, what?" I asked, my voice rising. "They have a leader? Since when?" I couldn't believe Luke hadn't mentioned this to me yet.
"His name is David Samuel," Luke revealed.
The moment the name left Luke's mouth, Berry's entire demeanor changed. A soft, unmistakable blush crept up her cheeks, and she looked down at her hands, suddenly looking very invested in her lap. "Interesting..." she murmured softly.
Victor's sharp eyes immediately caught the sudden change in her expression. He tilted his head, his gaze boring into her. "What was that about, Berry?"
Berry quickly snapped her head up, her face turning an even brighter shade of pink as she waved her hands dismissively. "Oh! It's nothing! Nothing at all, just... just thinking about the brackets!"
Adrian cleared his throat, tapping his screen to highlight the next block of text. "Yeah, those are the only alliance rules that apply directly to us upperclassmen. But look at this part." He leaned forward, reading out Rule Four:
"Unlike the upperclassmen, all junior classes are permitted a special strategic advantage: they are allowed to form an alliance with any class they choose, regardless of the year."
"And just to clarify, that rule is for the other juniors, not our own specific class brackets," Adrian added.
Zack let out a low, cynical scoff, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah. Which means they'll probably just end up betraying us anyway."
"That is most likely to never happen," Isabelle countered smoothly, her posture remaining perfectly rigid.
I frowned, looking across the table at her. Something about the certainty in her voice caught me off guard. "Why is that, Isabelle? How can you be so sure?"
Before Isabelle could answer, Victor subtly raised a single finger, a tiny, almost imperceptible hand gesture that immediately caught his assistant's eye. Isabelle caught the cue instantly and closed her mouth.
"It is nothing," Isabelle amended, her voice dropping back into its standard, detached tone. "Just my intuition."
I stared at her, narrowing my eyes. I definitely didn't buy it. Victor had clearly signaled her to shut up, which meant Class A knew something about the junior classes that the rest of us didn't. But before I could push her on it, Adrian quickly moved things along to keep the peace.
"Moving on to the scoring system," Adrian said, scrolling down to Rule Five. "If a class wins an event, they will be awarded Class Star Points. The specific breakdown for overall placement is as follows: the class that secures first place will receive 3 Class Star Points, second place will receive 2, and third place will receive 1."
Ashley leaned back, twirling a pen between her fingers. "So getting fourth place gives you absolutely zero. Brutal."
"Yep," Ray agreed with a grim nod. "It completely cuts out the bottom class."
"But wait, there's more to it," Adrian explained, gesturing to the breakdown on his screen. "Individual effort is going to be heavily factored in this time. The specific student who leads the class to victory in that event will be awarded personal Player Star Points according to their exact finishing position. If you lead your team to 1st place, you will receive 50 Player Star Points. A 2nd place finish awards 30 points, and a 3rd place finish awards 20 points."
He scrolled down slightly further to read the final clause of the rule. "As a baseline incentive to ensure absolute effort across the board, all students who actively participate in an event will receive a flat rate of 5 Player Star Points, regardless of where their team finishes."
I tapped my chin, processing the numbers. "So there is a baseline reward just for stepping onto the field. At least everyone walks away with something."
Ray, however, was staring at the massive gaps between the top spots, his face pale. "What do you mean 'only that', Heather? Look at the sheer difference between 1st place and 2nd place. It's a 20-point difference for the MVP! That's massive."
"And the difference between 2nd and 3rd is only 10 points, which is a lot closer," Adrian pointed out, drawing a line between the numbers on his tablet.
Isabelle looked around the table, her gaze sharp and calculating. "Then it is absolutely imperative to secure 1st place in every single event. Second best isn't going to cut it if you want to pull ahead."
"Exactly," Victor said, his cold voice cutting through the chatter as his eyes locked directly onto Ray. A smug, superior smile played on his lips. "Which is exactly why we can never be equal under your little strategy, Ray. The point distribution is designed to reward absolute dominance, not a manufactured tie."
Ray looked directly at Victor, his low-energy demeanor entirely vanishing for a split second as his expression turned dead serious. "Well, Victor... tell me, what will you do if we all go up against you? B, C, and D combined. How is your dominance strategy going to hold up then?"
Victor didn't even blink. He just leaned back in his chair, his cold, superior smile widening slightly as he met Ray's gaze. "Why don't you give it a try?"
"Guys, stop arguing," Ashley interrupted sharply, slapping her hand lightly on the table to cut off the rising tension. "Let's move on and focus on sharing our insights like we planned."
Pulling the official rules packet toward her, Ashley cleared her throat and began to read aloud Rule Six:
"Certain specified events will allow students to participate more than once. These exceptions apply strictly to large-scale team games, such as football, basketball, and other high-roster sports."
Luke waved his hand dismissively. "That's a pretty basic one. It just means the standard sports events allow multiple players from the same roster. Let's move on. Rule Seven was already explained by Isabelle earlier."
"Then that brings us to Rule Eight," Ashley continued, scanning down the page.
"In academic events—such as the advanced mathematics examination and the competitive trivia showcase—exactly three students from each class may participate. However, individual performance in these academic sectors will not affect the Class Star Points."
Ray frowned, looking over the text. "Wait, why wouldn't individual performance in academics affect the Class Star Points?"
"It is obvious why it doesn't affect the C.S.P," Victor voiced smoothly, breaking in before Ray could think it through. "Think about it. Each class must send exactly three students. If your proposed three-class alliance holds, that means there will be nine students working in full cooperation against our three. If the overall class points were affected by a combined alliance victory, it would inevitably create a draw in the global standings, completely breaking the system—not to mention the massive individual Player Star Point differences it would cause. The administration built this to prevent you from rigging the top spots."
Before anyone could counter him, Victor reached over and pulled the tablet toward himself, his eyes scanning the next clause. "Listen to this. Rule Nine:"
"With certain accrued Class Star Points, the Class Leader has the authority to purchase specific strategic items from the school administration database. These items are designed to allow the class to gain more leverage and power during the events—such as the 'Authority Card'."
Victor looked up, his dark eyes locking onto every leader at the table, his smile turning razor-sharp. "See? This is the problem. The tournament isn't just about winning events; it's an arms race. The moment one class pulls ahead and buys an item like the Authority Card, the balance of power shifts completely."
Victor's eyes stayed glued to the tablet as he continued reading aloud, his voice dropping into a low, calculating tone. "Rule Ten: However, only twenty percent of the item's cost will be permanently deducted from your final Class Star Point total once the tournament concludes."
He paused, letting the weight of that loop-hole sink in before reading the exact example provided in the packet:
"For example: if a class possesses one hundred Class Star Points and spends twenty-five on an Authority Card, the class will temporarily operate with seventy-five active points. However, only five points—the twenty percent deduction—will permanently count against the final score."
"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Move on," I cut in, waving my hand dismissively. My head was starting to throb from all the math and Victor's smug lecturing.
Ray sighed, shifting his weight. "Heather."
"What?" I snapped, glancing toward him.
"Look at the time," Ray said quietly, gesturing toward the digital clock on the wall.
I checked my phone. "It's 7:30 p.m. already." We had been sitting in this booth for hours, and the air was getting heavier by the second.
Before the conversation could stall, Luke reached across the table, grabbed the tablet right out from under Victor's fingers, and brought it over to our side. "Let's just finish the baseline rules," Luke said, his eyes scanning the final pages. He cleared his throat and read out Rule Eleven and Rule Twelve:
"The ultimate winner of the tournament will be determined solely by the total accumulated Class Star Points at the very end of all events."
"In the exact event of a draw or a statistical tie between two or more classes, the average Student Star Points of the entire whole class will be calculated down to the decimal. Whichever class has the higher individual student average will be declared the absolute winner."
Luke paused, glancing over at Ray. "So your tiebreaker idea from earlier was actually hardcoded into the system from the start, Ray. The school anticipated a deadlock."
Without waiting for a response, Luke scrolled down to the final two regulations, Rule Thirteen and Rule Fourteen, reading them off back-to-back:
"When the three classes form an alliance, they will compete collectively against other alliances to secure the highest overall positions. However, for individual Student Star Points (S.S.P), you will still be competing amongst yourselves. Furthermore, the overall Class Star Points will be distributed to each respective academic year independently."
"You are permitted to freely trade or exchange accumulated Class Star Points with the classes inside your own alliance to manage resources or purchase authority items. You are strictly prohibited from transferring points to any class outside your faction."
Luke set the tablet down flat on the wooden table, looking around at the face of every leader present.
"Alright, let me explain exactly what this means for us," Luke said, his voice sharp and analytical. "The administration just gave a massive buff to anyone who actually forms a functional alliance. Look at the mechanics. If B, C, and D team up, we can literally pool our Class Star Points together to buy high-tier database items like the Authority Card. We can trade points back and forth to bail out whichever class is struggling in a specific event, essentially playing the system as a single corporate entity."
He leaned forward, his eyes cutting right to Victor. "But there's a catch. Even inside the alliance, our students are still competing against each other for individual S.S.P. It's a forced paradox—we have to cooperate to win the overall class war, but our individual students still have to fight each other like wolves to secure their own personal rankings. It keeps everyone cutthroat, even among allies."
Ashley leaned back, a sharp, calculating glint returning to her eyes. "And since the points are distributed independently by academic year, a victory for us seniors doesn't automatically save our juniors. We're managing two entirely separate battlefronts."
The full scope of the tournament was finally laid bare on the table. The rules weren't just guidelines for sports and tests; they were blueprints for a massive, multi-layered war of attrition.
Victor let out a low, mocking laugh, the sound chillingly quiet in the tense atmosphere of the booth. He reached out, his long fingers tapping the glass screen of the tablet Luke had just laid down.
"You're misinterpreting the phrasing, Luke," Victor said smoothly, his eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction. "Look closely at the wording of Rule Fourteen. 'You are permitted to freely trade or exchange accumulated Class Star Points with the classes inside your own alliance.' Now, look back at Rule Three and the data we just established."
He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Luke, then shifting to Ashley and Ray.
"The administration assigned your alliances vertically across the academic years. Class C is allied with the first-year Class C and the second-year Class A. Those are the classes inside your faction. The rules do not state that the senior leaders of Classes B, C, and D can form an ad-hoc alliance here at this table and start trading points among themselves."
The realization hit the table like ice water.
"He's right," I muttered, my stomach dropping as I scanned the text again. "The 'alliance' the rule is talking about isn't a horizontal pact between us seniors. It's the pre-assigned vertical alliance with our juniors and sophomores."
"Exactly," Victor murmured, leaning back and steepled his fingers. "You can only exchange points with your own underclassman alliance blocks to manage resources or purchase authority items. You cannot pool points with each other to freeze Class A out. The system has completely barred you from forming a three-class superpower at the senior level."
Ashley's face fell, her strategic leverage evaporating in an instant. Ray looked down at his coffee cup, his expression deeply troubled as his entire tiebreaker strategy was rendered completely unviable.
"So," Victor concluded, his eyes sweeping across the fractured room, his sharp smile returning in full force. "The playing field remains entirely cutthroat among the seniors. You are isolated, trapped with your own rosters, and forced to rely on underclassmen you barely know. Now tell me, Ray—how does your little peace treaty look now?"
Isabelle glanced down at her watch, then turned her head slightly toward Victor, her voice returning to its usual quiet, efficient tone. "Victor, it's late. We should get dinner here."
Ray sighed, stretching his arms over his head as the immense weight of the rules and calculations finally caught up to him. "Yep. Let's have dinner here, shall we? No use walking back to the dorms on empty stomachs."
No one objected. The mental exhaustion in the booth was palpable. Luke slid the digital tablet to the edge of the table, effectively signaling an end to the strategic warfare—at least for the next hour.
A waiter arrived a few minutes later, taking their orders in an atmosphere that felt bizarrely heavy. Just moments ago, these six people were dissecting ways to systematically destroy each other's classes; now, they were deciding between pasta and burgers.
When the food finally arrived, the table split into distinct, isolated pockets of energy.
The Silent Rift
Zack and Ashley sat completely separated by the width of the booth, but the silence between them was deafening. Ashley picked at her food, her usual vibrant energy completely dimmed. She kept her eyes glued to her plate, occasionally casting a brief, pained glance toward Zack.
Zack, true to his word, didn't say a single thing. He ate aggressively, his massive frame hunched over his meal, projecting a heavy aura of absolute isolation. The childhood history Ashley had thrown in his face was clearly weighing on the room, but Zack had built a brick wall around himself that no one, not even Ashley, could break through right now.
The Calculating Quiet
Across from them, Victor and Isabelle ate with precise, near-robotic etiquette. Victor cut his steak with slow, deliberate movements, completely unbothered by the thick tension vibrating across the table. Every now and then, his dark eyes would track the movements of the other leaders, silently recording their frustrations, their weaknesses, and the fractures in their relationships. Isabelle sat perfectly poised beside him, occasionally leaning in to murmur a brief, administrative note into his ear, which he answered with a simple, knowing nod.
The Flustered Distraction
Meanwhile, Berry was doing everything she could to avoid Victor's sharp gaze. Her cheeks still carried a faint, lingering pink hue from the mention of the 1st-year Class C leader, David Samuel. She buried her face in her drink, deliberately striking up a loud, slightly forced conversation with Adrian about the cafe's menu just to keep anyone else from asking about her blushes.
I took a bite of my dinner, the food tasting like cardboard under the sheer pressure of the room. I looked over at Luke, who was chewing thoughtfully, his mind clearly still spinning with numbers, point distributions, and the harsh reality of Rule Fourteen.
We were all sitting at the same table, sharing the same space, but as the silverware clinked against the plates, it was clearer than ever: the tournament hadn't just started. We were already drowning in it.
The Last Two
The dinner dissolved the way it always did—gradually, then all at once.
Ray was the first to go, tossing a casual wave over his shoulder as he disappeared through the café door with the easy, unbothered gait of someone who had already compartmentalized the entire evening. Berry followed shortly after, still flushed, still chattering loudly at Adrian about nothing in particular as they pushed out into the corridor together. Ashley lingered the longest, her chair scraping back slowly, her eyes making one final sweep toward Zack's direction—but he didn't look up. She left without a word, the door swinging shut behind her with a quiet finality that felt heavier than it should have.
Luke stood last among the departing group, sliding the digital tablet under his arm and pausing briefly at the edge of the table. His eyes moved between Victor and Zack with the careful, measured quality of someone running a silent calculation. Whatever conclusion he reached, he kept it to himself.
"Good night," he said simply, and walked out.
And then there were two.
The café had thinned considerably. A few other students occupied distant booths, their conversations a low, indistinct murmur beneath the soft ambient lighting. The waiter had already cleared most of the plates, leaving behind only half-finished glasses and the lingering ghost of a meal that no one had truly tasted.
Victor remained exactly as he had been throughout dinner—composed, unhurried, one hand resting lightly on the table beside his glass. He didn't look at Zack immediately. He looked at the door Luke had just walked through, and something faint and unreadable moved across his expression.
"I didn't expect him," Victor said at last, his voice low and conversational, as though commenting on the weather. "Luke, as the leader. I genuinely didn't see that coming."
It wasn't directed at anyone in particular. But there was only one person left to hear it.
Zack's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He hadn't moved from his seat, his massive frame still occupying the booth with that same coiled, dangerous stillness he'd worn all evening. He turned his head slowly and looked at Victor—really looked at him—for the first time since the plans had been laid out on the table.
"I know what you're doing," Zack said. His voice was quiet. Controlled. But there was something underneath it, something dense and molten, like heat rising from asphalt in summer. "Hurting Jane. Using her to get to me." His dark eyes didn't waver. "I know that's you."
Victor finally turned to meet his gaze. There was no flicker of guilt there, no discomfort. Only that same clean, almost academic calm that made him so profoundly difficult to read.
"Jane made her own choice," Victor said evenly. "She accepted Melvin's deal. I didn't put a pen in her hand."
The words landed with the precise, surgical weight that Victor always seemed to achieve without apparent effort. Technically true. Irrefutably hollow.
The silence that followed was taut enough to snap.
When Zack spoke again, his voice had dropped even further—not softer, but denser, each word deliberate and unhurried, the way a person speaks when they want to make absolutely certain they are understood.
"You will pay for this." He held Victor's gaze without blinking. "Dearly."
Something shifted in Victor's expression then. Not fear—never that. But a kind of heightened attention, the way a chess player leans forward slightly when the board becomes genuinely interesting.
"That's a great deal of weight," Victor said, "coming from someone in your current position, Zack."
He let that sit for exactly a moment.
"But since you seem determined to frame this as a matter of justice—" Victor tilted his head almost imperceptibly, his voice acquiring the faintest edge, like a blade turning in light— "then I will give justice upon you. Ten times what you're owed."
The promise didn't rise. It didn't shout. It simply settled, the way cold does—quietly, completely, leaving no room for warmth.
Zack stared at him for a long, unbroken moment. Then he rose from the booth. His full height in the low café light was considerable, and for just a fraction of a second the geometry of the room shifted—Victor was, for once, the smaller figure in the space.
But Zack didn't lunge. Didn't threaten further. He had already said everything he needed to say.
He turned and walked toward the door, each footstep measured and deliberate on the café floor. He pushed through it without looking back, and the door swung shut behind him with the same quiet finality as all the others before it.
Victor watched the door for a moment after it closed.
Then he reached for his glass, took a calm, unhurried sip, and set it back down.
The café hummed softly around him. Somewhere across the room, a fork clinked against ceramic. The ambient light cast long, even shadows across the empty booth where six leaders had sat not an hour ago, dividing a tournament between them like a continent on a map.
Victor reached into his coat, withdrew his own small notebook—separate from the tablet, separate from anything the others had seen—and uncapped a pen.
He wrote one name.
Then he closed it.