COTE : Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

Just like the school dormitories, the cruise ship strictly separated male and female passengers, including the teachers. The third floor was for boys, the fourth for girls.

However, there were no specific restrictions on movement between the male and female areas. If one had to put a rule on it, it was simply that entering or staying there past midnight was prohibited.

It was now ten in the evening. Inside a girls' cabin on the luxury cruise ship.

Soft, warm lamplight cast its glow. Beyond the porthole lay the deep, boundless ink-blue sea. The faint glimmer of navigation lights flickered in the distance from time to time.

Three girls, plus Fuyuji, sat gathered around the low table at the center of the carpet, playing a game called Old Maid.

Only...

Kamuro Masumi gripped her cards in one hand, her eyes half-narrowed, and glared in exasperation at the two ridiculous figures beside her.

"Hmph hmph. Fuyuji Mikage, you're finished. I'm definitely winning this round."

Morishita sat before the table. With a flourish, she fanned out her cards in her hand, their backs facing Fuyuji with perfect uniformity. Her small chin was raised high, her chest slightly puffed out, speaking with absolute confidence.

"What's this one?" Fuyuji extended a hand and hovered over one of the cards, as if hesitating. "Is it the Joker?"

"Mm, mm! Yes, it is!" Morishita's head bobbed like a chick pecking at grain, the blue ponytail at her chest tracing cheerful arcs through the air.

"Really? Morishita-sama~" Fuyuji raised an eyebrow. His voice stretched out, carrying a note of teasing.

"The Morishita family never lies."

"Liar Morishita. The truth is... the Joker has been in my hand the whole time."

"As if! The card in my hand is the Joker! But I'm not giving it to you. The Joker has to stay with the strongest person."

"The one in my hand is the Joker!"

"Liar Fuyuji Mikage! The Joker is clearly with the great Morishita!"

In just a few exchanges, sparks were flying from the eyes of the two locked in confrontation. It was as if lightning and fire were intertwining between their gazes.

Yamamura and Kamuro, watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances, their eyes filled with nothing but helplessness.

Just one round ago, the Joker in Yamamura's hand had been drawn by Kamuro. Where exactly did these two find the nerve to claim, with their eyes wide open, that the Joker was in their own hands?!

"Hey, Fuyuji."

Finally, faced with these two squabbling geniuses, Kamuro propped her elbow on her knee. Her entire being radiated an air of utter resignation as she spoke in a bored tone.

"Tomorrow's the last day of the special exam. Katsuragi's completely out of ideas. Is it really okay for you to be this laid-back?"

Half an hour ago, Katsuragi had held one final round of discussion in the class group chat regarding the special exam.

Tomorrow evening at nine o'clock, after the final group discussion, each class would be forcibly separated with no opportunity for communication whatsoever. In that final hour, they would send their answers to the school and await the final results.

And up to this point, only two groups had concluded their exams early. As a result, the other Class A students all looked as if they were facing a formidable enemy.

"Daijoubu." Fuyuji caught Morishita's restless little hand as it reached over and flashed an OK sign. He wiggled the toes currently being trampled beneath Morishita's black-stockinged foot. "The progress right now is just about right. The other classes are probably waiting for us to make our move."

On Class D's side, Sakayanagi Arisu didn't have many people she could mobilize. Getting them to identify the VIPs of other classes was probably asking too much.

One of the only two people who had submitted answers so far was Class D's Koenji Rokusuke. Though he did whatever he pleased, his personality didn't seem the type to bother with lies. Sakayanagi would probably happily pay to buy the VIP name of that group from him.

As for Class B, Ichinose—true to her nature—would likely try her hardest to achieve Result One. Only if that failed would she attempt other possibilities.

And as for Class C...

With Ryuen's credit—worse than someone who couldn't even scan a power bank in a past life—even if he did discover the pattern among the VIPs, he wouldn't find any class willing to trade with him.

Add his paranoid personality to the mix—he trusted no one but himself.

A full combo of factors. Unless some kind soul handed him the exam answers, he was probably still stuck spinning his wheels in place.

...

At the very same time. On the other side of the luxury cruise ship, inside a KTV room.

Multicolored spotlights illuminated the dim space, casting human silhouettes against the soundproof-padded walls. The first year's most notorious figure, Ryuen Kakeru, had gathered his handful of underlings here. They, too, were discussing countermeasures for the special exam.

The rules of this special exam were practically designed to clash with his very existence!

Threatening or coercing others into handing over their phones was forbidden—punishable by expulsion.

All contracts signed regarding the special exam during these three days were null and void. The school would not enforce them.

Wasn't this just screwing him over?!

Without threats or coercion, how was he supposed to deploy his entire arsenal of underhanded tactics?

These rules only made things worse for Ryuen, who already had zero credibility in this school. Students from other classes avoided him like the plague.

"That Kobashi from Class B—I've always found her extremely suspicious. Ryuen-san, the VIP might be her!"

"No way! In that group, it's still Class A's Shimazaki who's more suspicious. Don't you think it's terrifying? For the past two days, he's been reading textbooks during group discussions! He actually brought his textbooks onto the cruise ship! How could a person like that even exist?! He must be faking it!"

"No, no, no! It's definitely Kobashi!"

"Shimazaki is the real suspect!"

...

Inside the room, the first two underlings Ryuen had ever recruited—Komiya and Yamawaki—were arguing across the glass tabletop, spit flying.

Ryuen had both legs propped up arrogantly, resting casually on the smooth table. His gaze skimmed past the shoulders of his two underlings and landed on the girl in the corner of the room, almost blending into the shadow of the sofa.

"At minimum, how many need to be identified before this so-called pattern can be conclusively confirmed?"

Ryuen's voice suddenly rang out, overpowering the pointless bickering in the room.

A slip of paper the size of a card, covered in scrawled handwriting, was flung like a dart onto the smooth tabletop. It spun, carrying a faint whistle of wind, and came to a precise, gradual stop right before Shiina Hiyori.

The arguing ceased abruptly. Every gaze converged.

Slender, pale fingers slowly closed the thick book in her hands, producing a faint, crisp thump. Shiina raised her head and met Ryuen's probing gaze without the slightest trace of fear.

"Haven't you already figured this out, Ryuen-kun?"

"I asked for your answer." Ryuen repeated, patience undiminished.

Toward those with talent, he had always been quite tolerant.

"Six."

"Why?" Ryuen raised an eyebrow.

Shiina bent down and picked up the paper before her with the names of each group's members written on it. Her fingers gently traced across it. Her gaze settled on one of the names.

"Six is precisely the number of VIPs from two classes combined. During the rules briefing, the teacher also specifically said—temporarily setting aside your class and acting as a member of your group is the shortcut to achieving the exam's outcome. I don't believe the teachers had any reason to lie on that point."

"And in terms of difficulty, six is just right. It tests the students' analytical abilities without requiring so many people that it becomes impossible to achieve."

Hearing this, Ibuki Mio, standing nearby, pressed a hand to her forehead in frustration and put on a mask of pure agony. "Forget six. Even if we dropped it by one, we still couldn't gather them all. Class A, just like us, has already deleted the VIP text messages. If we want to find more, we can only look to Class B and Class D."

Kaneda Satoru pushed up his glasses and supplemented the analysis. "Moreover, our class has had exceptionally bad luck this time. Ryuen-shi and Shiina-shi, the two most likely to identify the VIPs, have both been assigned to exceptionally strong groups."

"Same as what I thought."

A cruel grin spread across Ryuen's lips, like a venomous snake baring its fangs. He pulled out his phone, slid his finger across the screen, and spoke with deep, meaningful deliberation. "Six. I really have to thank him for that. Not too many, not too few. At this point, with that bastard Hashimoto's abilities, he should've been able to dig up at least one or two by now."

"Ryuen-kun." Shiina's airy voice rang out once more.

She lowered her head again. Both hands adjusted the book on her pressed-together legs, making it sit even more properly. Then, with a soft rustle, she gently flipped open a page.

"In this situation, if all the VIPs come from the same class, it might be playing right into the other side's hands."

"Of course I know that."

Ryuen toyed with his phone and leaned back, settling casually into the sofa. He dialed a number directly, and at the same time, swept his palm through the air, instantly silencing the noise around him.

Whether the list was real or fake, he had no intention of writing any names down.

Class C had made zero progress so far. The only breakthrough point he had in hand was Hashimoto Masayoshi.

Given Hashimoto's cunning nature, whether the intel was fabricated or genuine, he wouldn't casually toss out just any name to fool him.

If it were a trap, it would be disguised somewhat convincingly—meaning he'd pick someone from a group where Class A had the VIP and pass that name along instead.

Otherwise, if it just so happened to collide with a group where Class C had the VIP, the deception would be exposed on the spot.

At this thought, Ryuen's languid posture vanished in an instant.

He abruptly straightened his back. A sense of power surged back into his body. His finger pressed the speakerphone button on the screen.

"Sa~ Let me see exactly what kind of scheme your Class A is cooking up!"

The entire KTV room fell into silence in that very instant. The crowd of Class C students stood rooted to their spots, staring fixedly at the phone on the table.

The very air seemed to solidify. The ringing tone echoed through the KTV room.

Then—

"Click!" A short, crisp disconnect tone rang out clearly.

The confidence on Ryuen's face froze solid. The spotlight's beams spun and danced across his rigid profile.

Ibuki: "..."

Shiina: "..."

The crowd of Class C students: "..."

A long moment passed. Ryuen's throat bobbed. He let out a scoff. "As expected of Class A's model students. Turning in this early."

Having said this, his finger pressed down hard and dialed again.

And then, with another sharp click, the call was disconnected once more—clean and decisive, before the busy tone could even begin.

"..."

Ryuen gripped his phone. Veins bulged across the back of his hand one by one. A grin—twisted to the point of savagery—slowly surfaced on his face. He dialed again.

"Gyahaha! That bastard—too scared to even pick up the phone now, is he?"

This time, the call finally connected.

"Oi. Don't tell me you've forgotten I still have leverage over y—"

"Stop calling me. I've already dumped you. I'm afraid he'll get the wrong idea."

"Smack—!"

"Du... du... du..." The busy tone surged in like a tide, echoing through the KTV room. The entire space sank into a deathly silence.

Ryuen maintained the posture of answering the phone. His big toe, hidden deep within his shoe, twitched faintly. The cold light of the phone screen illuminated his face—first flushing crimson in an instant, then turning an iron, livid blue.

Ibuki: "..."

Shiina: "..."

The rest of Class C: "..."

The Class C students slowly raised their heads and, in unspoken unison, stared at Ryuen, whose blood was visibly surging. Then they silently pressed their lips together and lowered their heads once more, as if to cover up, pretending to study the patterns on the carpet or the wear on the table's edges.

Holding the slip of paper before her, Shiina's fine brows slowly furrowed. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the edge of the paper.

What was going on? Whether Hashimoto Masayoshi's betrayal was genuine or a trap, the plan should have been carried out regardless. Why, at the very final step, had he abandoned it?

There was only one day left until the exam ended. What exactly had all his previous actions been for?

"Well played, Hashimoto, you bastard!" Ryuen forced these words out from between clenched teeth. His chest began to heave violently, beyond his control. "My leverage was in your hands, so you cut ties first, preemptively?!"

"So I've really been underestimated!!"

Ryuen let out a cold laugh and swiftly slid his finger across the screen, pulling up Katsuragi Kohei's number and dialing.

Unexpectedly, the call connected smoothly. Katsuragi's steady voice came through.

"Hello, Ryuen. What business do you have with me at this hour?"

"Katsuragi. Seeing as we're on such good terms, let me give you some good news. Someone told me a method—collect all the students' phones, then have them uniformly deleted before the school's text messages arrive. Want to know who that someone is?" Ryuen cut straight to the point, coming right out with it.

A moment of silence passed on the other end. When the voice came again, it had turned serious.

"I hold one hundred percent trust in my classmates. Your clumsy attempt at sowing discord won't work."

"What a dutiful class leader you are. Pity. When that bastard betrayed you back then, that wasn't what he said at all. Hashimoto Masayoshi—ring any bells? If you don't believe me, I've got the relevant recording right here. Of course, that recording will require—"

"I understand. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. It's late. Get some good rest tonight. See you tomorrow."

"Smack... Du... du... du..."

The smile of assured victory that had just surfaced on Ryuen's face froze solid in an instant.

...

Late at night. The cruise ship cut through the ink-dark seawater as it sailed on. The low, rhythmic crash of waves drifted in.

Inside a pitch-black Class C cabin.

Surrounded by the sound of snoring and the rush of the waves, on the bed by the window, a pair of bloodshot eyes suddenly snapped open in the darkness.

Ryuen flung aside the covers and propped up his upper body. His fist slammed viciously into the mattress beneath him.

"Your mom, Hashimoto Masayoshi—what the hell?!"

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