Chapter 366: Three Consecutive KOs / The Fainting Sakayanagi Arisu
Since they were in the multimedia classroom, both of their phones had been confiscated. Shimizu Akira had not yet received the transfer of those 5 million private points.
However, with two homeroom teachers present and the entire process recorded by surveillance as evidence, Sakayanagi Arisu naturally couldn't back out of the debt. Besides, although this "mesugaki" usually put on superior airs and spoke with a sharp tongue, her credit had always been quite good in her dealings with Akira.
Therefore, Akira wasn't worried.
Hoshinomiya Chie walked up to the two with a beaming smile and asked, "Well then, before the event officially begins, Student Shimizu has chosen to exercise the Commander-in-Chief's privilege to personally take the field. Student Sakayanagi, what is your decision?"
Sakayanagi's expression instantly soured.
Her decision? With her frail body and cane, who was she supposed to fight on stage? Was she to be a moving target for her opponent? She practically gritted her teeth, giving a cold shake of her head.
"I will remain here. I'll leave it to my classmates to perform."
Akira said no more and turned to leave the cubicle. As he walked out the door, he faintly heard the "thud-thud" of a cane striking the ground heavily behind him, hurried and tinged with annoyance.
'Is there really a need to be that angry?' he thought.
Then again, Hoshinomiya-sensei had indeed looked out for Sakayanagi quite a bit during this exam. But that was hardly surprising; who told Sakayanagi to plot against Ichinose Honami so many times before?
He wondered how the battle between Class B and Class D was going...
Just as he stepped out of the multimedia classroom, a school staff member was already waiting outside.
It seemed his movements were still restricted until the exam was completely over. He followed the staff member silently down the hallway, but at the corner of the stairs, he came face-to-face with a middle-aged man who seemed to have been waiting for a long time.
The man had a gentle smile and a proper bearing—it was the Acting Chairman, Tsukishiro Tokinari.
"Alright, Mr. Staff Member, you may return now," Tsukishiro instructed.
"Understood, Acting Chairman," the staff member replied with a respectful bow before departing.
"Good afternoon, Student Shimizu," Tsukishiro said, falling into step beside him for some small talk.
"I watched your match through the monitors; it was truly splendid. Leading the weakest Class C and actually taking four victories from Class A. With this, your victory is almost set in stone, isn't it?"
"I'm also surprised," Akira shot back bluntly.
"That you didn't pull any stunts this time."
"Oh my, where is that coming from?" Tsukishiro's smile remained unchanged.
"After the lesson of the last Special Voting Exam, I've made sure to strictly follow school rules. I would never do anything underhanded again."
In his heart, however, he was calculating: of the six events between Class A and Class C, five were difficult to manipulate.
The only one he could have intervened in was Chess, but because Akira and Horikita Suzune were complete novices, they naturally lost to Sakayanagi without any interference from him. He even wondered if Akira had predicted this and intentionally arranged his lineup that way.
"So, now that my phone is gone, my classmates are confined to the classroom, and the surveillance might be controlled by you," Akira's tone was flat.
"This is indeed a good opportunity for you to move against me."
"Student Shimizu, you jest," Tsukishiro waved a hand.
"You left the multimedia classroom unharmed. If I were to take you elsewhere and an accident occurred, I couldn't bear the responsibility if the school investigated."
Akira gave him a deep look. This man was clever and considered everything thoroughly.
"If you aren't going to make a move, did you come all this way just for small talk?"
"Not at all, I just wanted to share a few quiet words and have a casual chat. Though you might not believe it, I actually quite like you, child."
Tsukishiro elegantly adjusted his tie and continued, "Despite not receiving systematic training at the White Room, your thinking ability, adaptability, and physical fitness are all outstanding. If those higher-ups saw you, I fear they would start to doubt whether a true genius is really a product of cultivation."
"What 'true genius' or 'fake genius'... why do you people from the White Room always get hung up on these points?"
Akira had wanted to complain about this for a while.
"Seriously, no matter how you train them, you won't create geniuses like Einstein or Da Vinci who can change the world's landscape, right?"
In his eyes, even the supposedly omnipotent Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was absolutely not on the same level as those brilliant stars of history.
He never considered Ayanokouji a genius; he was more like a molded, all-purpose special forces soldier.
'Is he a genius just because he can do anything like an AI? That's not right.'
"Hahaha! Interesting!" Tsukishiro laughed loudly. Every child from the White Room hoped to be labeled a genius, yet the youth before him sneered at the title, even seeing it as a nuisance.
This made him find Akira even more intriguing.
"I originally came mainly for Student Ayanokouji, but I didn't expect... to discover a treasure." Tsukishiro stared at Akira.
"I think the children of the White Room will find it even more interesting when they meet you."
He was already looking forward to the situation after the second semester began. Akira, however, had no interest in continuing the topic.
"Are you done? Can you take me directly to the match venue? What if I'm late? I'm in the first match."
"Rest assured," Tsukishiro said with a chuckle.
"Since the seventh event was specially set by the school, there is ample preparation time—thirty minutes."
Seeing Akira's suspicious look, he added, "Aren't you going to ask why I suddenly inserted an event so favorable to you?"
He began to answer his own question. "It's simple, really. The Sakayanagi child was very disobedient during the last class voting exam and needed a small punishment. That's why I decided on boxing as the seventh event; in truth, it can be considered a stage created specifically for you."
"I don't believe you." Akira didn't believe a single word or punctuation mark.
The reason was too forced, no different from lying with his eyes wide open. Tsukishiro didn't explain, only smiling as he fell silent and led the way.
It wasn't until he brought Akira to the entrance of the specially arranged boxing arena that he stopped.
He gave Akira a friendly wave and, in a volume only the two of them could hear, whispered: "Whatever the case... I didn't come purely to make you and Ayanokouji Kiyotaka drop out, nor am I purely following Ayanokouji-sensei's arrangements."
With that, he turned and calmly disappeared at the other end of the corridor.
'Not purely targeting them for expulsion?' Akira stood there, ruminating on those words.
This time, he felt the other man might be telling the truth.
Regardless, the most important thing right now was the upcoming boxing match.
Akira stopped thinking about it and pushed open the door to the competition area. Before him was a small, standard-specification boxing ring with ropes and lights focused on the center.
To the side, the referee was Sato-senpai from the boxing club, who nodded slightly upon seeing Akira. In the left preparation area, Sudo Ken and Hirata Yousuke had already arrived.
Seeing Akira enter, both smiled.
"Shimizu! I'm here to follow your lead and box!" Sudo pumped his fist.
"Thank you for your hard work. Thanks to you, our class has secured victory," Hirata said with a gentle smile. Both were clearly in high spirits.
After all, even if they lost this boxing match, Class C had already clinched the overall win, guaranteeing 130 class points with no one facing expulsion.
However, Akira walked up to them and patted their shoulders.
"Listen, I made a bet with Sakayanagi. So, don't slack off just because you know the big picture is decided. When you go out there, I need you to give your all, understand?"
His gaze swept across Sudo's excited face and Hirata's resolute eyes.
Sudo blanked for a second, then grinned. "Don't worry! Even if you didn't say it, I wouldn't hold back! The opponents are Class A guys; just thinking about them makes me annoyed!"
Hirata nodded softly, his smile fading. "I understand, Shimizu-kun. I will do my best."
Akira nodded and looked across the ring.
The Class A contestants were also entering—Machida Koji, Kito Hayato, and Morishita Ai. The three had different expressions: Machida's eyes were sharp; Kito's gaze swept over the Class C trio, lingering on Sudo with undisguised hostility; and Morishita Ai... she looked like a viewer who had accidentally wandered in from a comedy set, even letting out a lazy yawn, completely unbothered by the tense atmosphere.
"No way?! There's a girl too?"
"What on earth is Sakayanagi thinking..."
Sudo and Hirata both looked surprised. In a boxing match, weight and strength advantages are crucial.
Sending a girl—especially one who didn't look muscular and seemed distracted—meant the chances of winning were far too low.
"She's giving me this point on purpose," Akira said flatly, seeing through Sakayanagi's intention.
"Sakayanagi knows very well that no matter who she sends, it would be hard to beat me."
Another reason was likely that Morishita Ai had previously promised to be Sakayanagi's lackey for three days but went back on her word. Sakayanagi putting her in a guaranteed loss was a form of roundabout punishment and a way to settle the score.
Akira recalled this and felt a bit of annoyance himself.
Fine, he would use this match to give her a proper lesson.
Of course, she was a girl after all. He would pull his punches; giving her a lesson would be enough.
"First match: Shimizu Akira vs. Morishita Ai. Please enter the ring!" Sato-senpai's voice rang out.
Akira took off his jacket, revealing a form-fitting athletic tank top, and stepped steadily onto the ring. Morishita Ai slowly took off her school uniform; underneath was a loose T-shirt with a cartoon cat print, completely out of place in a boxing environment.
She scratched her messy short hair and walked onto the ring nonchalantly.
The two bumped gloves in the center.
Morishita lifted her eyelids, looking at Akira who was right in front of her, and said in a voice only they could hear: "Yo, friend!~ Go easy on me, okay? My thin arms and legs can't take your hits."
Akira remained expressionless, withdrew his gloves, stepped back, and took his stance.
"First match: Shimizu Akira vs. Morishita Ai. Three rounds, two minutes each. Ready—" Referee Sato raised his arm. "Start!"
The referee's arm dropped. Morishita's reaction caught everyone off guard. She didn't take any defensive stance. Instead, she shrunk her body like a startled rabbit, skipped backward several times, retreated directly to the corner ropes, and raised her hands high over her head in an exaggerated "surrender" pose.
"I surrender! I give up! Not fighting, not fighting!" she shouted loudly.
The entire venue was stunned. Referee Sato froze as well. In such an important year-end exam, wasn't she embarrassed?
"Contestant, the match has already started. You must undergo at least one round of—"
" Uncle Referee!" Morishita interrupted him, pointing at Akira with a look of terror.
"Look at his eyes! So fierce! He definitely wants to hit me! I'm so scared! Can't I just admit defeat? The rules didn't say I can't surrender at the start!"
Akira sighed. Down below, Sudo couldn't help but shout, "Hey! Class A! Can you be serious! This is a match!"
Machida's face darkened further as he cursed under his breath, "A disgrace."
In the Commander-in-Chief's cubicle, Sakayanagi watched Morishita's "drama queen" performance on the screen, her lip twitching.
"Contestant Morishita Ai, please return to the center of the ring and conduct the match normally. Otherwise, you will be disqualified for passive play," the referee said sternly.
"Disqualify me then! I'm going to lose anyway!" Morishita acted like a dead pig that didn't fear boiling water, but her eyes were darting around, quietly observing Akira's reaction.
Akira suddenly understood.
She didn't really want to surrender; she was testing his attitude—or rather, seeing if he would lose his cool because of her nonsense or drop his guard because she was a girl.
Childish tricks.
Akira lowered his boxing stance and said to the referee, "Referee, please start the count. If she doesn't return to the center within ten seconds, judge her for passive play."
Morishita blinked.
'Tch, he's not falling for it.'
The referee nodded and began counting loudly: "One! Two! Three!..."
When he reached "Five," Morishita suddenly dropped her raised hands. The exaggerated fear on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a mischievous smirk. "Now! Take this!"
"Hahaha! Behold my Wolf Fang Hurricane Fist!" Morishita shrieked, suddenly launching a surprise attack with a straight punch aimed at Akira's face.
She believed this move was as fast as a cheetah and full of momentum. However, to Akira—or anyone with even a modicum of boxing knowledge—her posture was loose and her path was straightforward; it was practically child's play.
He simply took a calm half-step back, letting the "finishing move" miss completely. Then, at the moment Morishita's body stuttered from overextending, Akira delivered a plain right straight.
Using less than ten percent of his power, he accurately landed it on her abdomen.
"Ugh—! It hurts! Ow ow ow! Shimizu Akira, you hit a woman! You have no mercy at all!" Morishita's expression distorted instantly. She clutched her stomach, curled up on the floor in pain, and wailed exaggeratedly.
The referee stepped in to count. By ten, Morishita was still lounging on the ground, looking like she was "seriously injured."
"Match over! Shimizu Akira, victory by KO!"
Only then did Morishita sluggishly crawl up. As she walked off the ring, she purposely looked back, staring at Akira with teary eyes as if accusing him, and dropped a line: "I'm telling you, that thing... I'm not giving it back to you!"
Akira was speechless.
He had held back as much as possible; otherwise, with the punching power that had broken Yamada Albert's ribs, this woman would be heading to the infirmary right now.
But what was she babbling about? All he gave her were a few "small umbrellas" (condoms). You can get those from vending machines anywhere... just keep them for yourself.
He shook his head, ignored the interlude, and turned his attention to the second match.
.
.
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Second Match: Sudo Ken vs. Kito Hayato
The atmosphere on the ring was entirely different from the first. Kito glared death at Sudo. Having just witnessed Morishita's nonsense and defeat, all his pent-up anger was locked onto Sudo.
Sudo didn't back down, grinning as he slammed his gloves together.
For him, he had wanted to use force legitimately for a long time!
"Second match: Sudo Ken vs. Kito Hayato. Three rounds, two minutes each. Ready—Start!"
The moment the referee's arm dropped, Kito let out a low roar and charged out like a cannonball. He completely abandoned defense, swinging both fists directly at Sudo! His style was chaotic, but he pushed ferocity and speed to the limit.
This was his specialty—street brawling. He used maximum speed and dense attacks to crush his opponent before they could react.
Sudo was initially caught off guard by this sudden onslaught. He retreated repeatedly, tanking several hits with his sturdy arms and abdominal muscles.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The dull sounds of impact were incessant. Sudo's defense wasn't particularly tight; soon, his cheek and ribs took heavy hits, sending burning pain through him.
"Hahaha! I heard you fought 1-on-3 during the first semester midterms. Is this all you've got?!" Kito pressed his advantage, his offensive growing even more violent.
Below the ring, Class A's Machida frowned slightly.
Kito's style was too risky—a complete gamble. If the first wave of attack failed, his stamina would drop sharply and he would expose massive openings.
On Class C's side, Hirata looked up with concern. Akira remained calm.
On the ring, after enduring the first few seconds of the blitz, Sudo's eyes burned even brighter. The pain didn't make him shrink; instead, it ignited the raw ferocity in his bones.
"You bastard... that actually hurts!" he growled, no longer just retreating and blocking.
Spotting a tiny pause in Kito's breathing after a round of frantic output, Sudo's core snapped with power as his right foot stomped the ground! Borrowing the reaction force, Sudo delivered a no-frills right hook that condensed his entire body's strength, swinging upward toward the side of Kito's head, which was slightly exposed during his attack.
This punch might not have been as fast as Kito's flurry, but the sense of power and explosiveness was on a completely different level.
The sneer on Kito's face froze; he sensed extreme danger and instinctively tried to duck, but his momentum prevented him from making an effective defense. He could only barely raise his left arm to shield his face.
BOOM—!!
Fist met arm with a heavy thud. Kito felt an irresistible, massive force.
His left arm felt as if it had been struck by an iron rod; sharp pain instantly flooded his nerves. He staggered uncontrollably to the right, nearly falling.
His left arm hung limp, having lost almost all sensation.
One punch! With just one punch, Sudo had nearly dismantled Kito's offense! Sudo didn't let up, stepping forward.
His left fist followed, driving into Kito's abdomen, which was wide open due to the staggering. Kito managed to twist his body, blocking with his right arm.
Thud!
Another heavy impact. Kito was sent sliding back again, his breathing instantly thrown into disarray. The situation had reversed! The aggressive Kito of moments ago had turned into a punching bag under Sudo's absolute power suppression.
Kito tried to counter, but his punches landed on Sudo's thick muscle and hard bone with little effect. Meanwhile, every one of Sudo's counters dealt substantial damage.
The bell ending the first round finally rang. Kito retreated to his corner gasping for air, his left arm still trembling.
His cheeks and abdomen were swollen, and the ferocity in his eyes had been replaced by exhaustion and a trace of hidden fear.
In contrast, Sudo—though he had taken quite a few hits and was sweating—was high-spirited and battle-ready, as if he had only just finished warming up.
In the multi-purpose classroom, Sakayanagi stared wide-eyed at the screen, her heart twitching.
'Why is Sudo Ken stronger than Kito Hayato?'
She clearly remembered checking the student files at the start of school; both had an A-rating for physical ability. An A represented the top tier of physical fitness for a first-year. Was there a gap even between A-ranks?
The second round began.
Kito changed his strategy, trying to move around and harass with jabs, looking for an opening. But Sudo's pressure was too strong. He closed in step by step, giving Kito no room to maneuver comfortably.
Furthermore, Sudo seemed to have gotten smarter; his defense was tighter than in the first round, focusing on protecting his head and gut.
The match became a war of attrition. But clearly, Sudo, with better stamina and durability, held the absolute advantage.
Finally, about a minute and a half into the second round, Sudo caught Kito being a split-second slow on a backstep. A precise left uppercut tore through Kito's tired guard and landed squarely on his chin!
Kito's body stiffened. His eyes lost focus instantly as he fell straight back, hitting the mat with a heavy thud.
"Counting!" The referee rushed over, crouching beside Kito.
"One! Two! Three!..."
Kito lay on the ring, his body twitching slightly. His gaze was vacant, and his limbs felt as if they didn't belong to him, refusing to move.
"...Eight! Nine! Ten!"
The referee stood up and raised his arm toward Sudo.
"Match over! Victory by KO! Class C's Sudo Ken wins the second match!"
Class C 2:0 Class A. The team result was decided! Class C had won!
"OHHHH!" Below the ring, Sudo raised both fists with a roar of triumph. In the preparation area, Hirata showed a relieved smile.
Akira nodded slightly; Sudo had won this one cleanly and decisively.
On Class A's side, Sakayanagi watched as staff carried the unconscious Kito off the ring toward the infirmary.
Her heart began to pound violently, and she felt a strange difficulty in breathing. Lost. This time, she had lost completely and without suspense.
"Wait..." Her eyes locked onto the screen, a final sliver of hope flickering like a weak flame. "Hirata Yousuke... he's just a 'smile salesman.' He can't be that strong, can he?"
Even if the team defeat was irreversible, if they could win this last individual bout, they could at least salvage some dignity and prove Class A hadn't been routed across the board.
She was unwilling to give up this final chance.
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Third Match: Hirata Yousuke vs. Machida Koji
Hirata stepped onto the ring and even gave a polite nod. Machida's face was solemn. Both knew this match no longer affected the class outcome, but was a battle for their respective dignity.
"Third match: Hirata Yousuke vs. Machida Koji. Three rounds, two minutes each. Ready—Start!"
Machida initiated the attack. His style was steady and solid, much like his personality—methodical and powerful.
He tried to control the rhythm and pressure Hirata with continuous mid-range jabs and powerful rear-hand straights.
Hirata's response was a revelation.
His defensive stance was textbook: parrying, slapping, and slipping with no wasted motion. When Machida tried to intensify the pressure, Hirata would land precise jabs to the face or tricky hooks to the ribs at just the right moments.
"Hirata-kun is actually this good?"
Below the ring, it wasn't just Sudo; all the students from Class C and Class A watching the broadcast showed expressions of disbelief.
Their impression of Hirata Yousuke was someone elegant and refined, always wearing a gentle smile—the recognized "nice guy" of the class.
Who would have thought that on the boxing ring, his effortless poise clearly marked him as an experienced veteran!
By the end of the first round, Machida's effective hits were clearly trailing. His breathing was ragged, and several red marks had appeared on his forehead.
Hirata's breathing remained steady. This time, he was fighting for the honor of the class.
Especially knowing that Akira was watching him from not far away—that gaze felt like it carried trust and support, turning into a warm, solid power flowing into his body.
Hirata felt he was in peak condition.
In the second round, Machida tried to change tactics, focusing more on body shots to drain Hirata's stamina. But Hirata's defense held firm.
Occasionally, he fired off fluid combinations; though not aiming for a KO, they effectively scored points and stifled Machida's momentum.
Sweating profusely, Machida glanced at the scoreboard. At this rate, he had almost no chance of winning. Even if the team lost, he didn't want to lose every single individual match and end things so miserably.
Wait—he remembered that what Hirata cared about most was class unity and the bonds between classmates.
During a close-range clinch, Machida lowered his voice and spoke quickly: "Hey, Hirata! You remember Yamauchi Haruki, don't you? When he was expelled, didn't you just stand by and watch him leave? Do you really feel nothing in your heart? You're a class of 39 now... you haven't been a whole for a long time!"
He expected to see hesitation, pain, or confusion on Hirata's face.
Even a moment would be his chance to counterattack.
However, instead of wavering, Hirata's eyes suddenly became exceptionally resolute, burning with a sharpness Machida had never seen before.
"Who told you... that 39 people aren't a whole?"
In that instant, Hirata's fists became heavier and faster!
THUD!
A solid hit. Machida felt as if his left cheek had been slammed by a block of iron.
The massive impact sent his head snapping to the right. His vision went black, and his ears rang. He staggered, unable to maintain his balance.
THUMP!
His body slammed heavily onto the mat. Sharp pain spread from his cheek, mixed with dizziness and nausea, leaving him momentarily unable to comprehend where he was or what had happened.
The referee rushed over and began the count: "One! Two! Three!..."
Machida tried to push himself up, but his arms were limp and useless.
"...Seven! Eight! Nine!..."
Everything in his vision was shaking and spinning; he could only vaguely see the referee's shoes and the floor of the ring.
"...Ten!"
The referee stood up and decisively pointed toward Hirata.
"Match over! Victory by KO! Third match, Class C's Hirata Yousuke wins!"
The count ended; Machida never made it back up.
Hirata stood in the center of the ring, panting slightly, watching Machida being surrounded by the referee and staff.
There was no wild joy on his face, only a calm look at his own fists. Unlike in middle school, this time he was also protecting his classmates, but the person his fists struck was an "enemy" rather than a friend.
Machida was helped into a sitting position. As his consciousness returned, his left cheek swelled at a visible rate.
He looked up at Hirata, his eyes complex.
He had intended to use words to break the other's will, only to find that Hirata's conviction to protect his comrades had been tempered into something far more indestructible than he imagined—strong enough to become a powerful strike.
"Three matches... all KOs? Even with the list and order in advance... we still couldn't win?"
Sakayanagi Arisu stared fixedly at the screen.
The images of her players falling one after another repeatedly slashed at her nerves. A blinding dizziness suddenly hit her; her vision began to blur and spin.
She couldn't catch her breath, and her heart felt like it was being pricked by needles.
In the final moment before her consciousness was completely swallowed by darkness, she only faintly heard the slightly panicked voice of that annoying teacher (Hoshinomiya Chie):
"Quick! Quick! Go get the nurse from the infirmary!"
Final Boxing Score: Class C 3:0 Class A.
Event Selection Special Exam Total Score: Class C 5:2 Class A.
A total victory for Class C!