Chapter 206: All-Out Battle Royale Mode, Activate!

"Huff... huff... huff..."

At the finish line of the 1200-meter mixed relay, Horikita Manabu bent forward slightly, both hands braced against his knees, struggling to steady the violent heaving of his chest.

Beads of sweat the size of soybeans slid down his forehead and dripped onto the rubber track, blooming into small, dark patches of moisture.

"Ahahaha—!" A wildly unrestrained, utterly brazen peal of laughter forcibly drilled into his mind.

There stood Fuyuji Mikage, the Red Team's headband in hand, both hands planted on his hips, laughing uproariously toward the sky.

"I told you your brother would be left drinking the foot-washing water of the two of us! A mere Horikita Manabu—not even worth worrying about!"

"Huff... huff..." Horikita Manabu fixed his gaze and swept it across every detail of Fuyuji's body. Just moments ago, this same person had been drenched in sweat, panting heavily, charging through the finish line right alongside him, one after the other. Yet now, after only a brief moment, he was already speaking with full, robust vigor, as though nothing had happened at all.

More importantly—he could swear with absolute certainty that, just one month ago during morning runs, Fuyuji absolutely did not possess that kind of speed. His physical ability back then did not reach the top tier of the entire school.

And yet, only a single month had passed...

[Such terrifying talent.]

"Tch... Senpai!"

A bottle of mineral water came hurtling through the air in a tumbling arc and was caught with pinpoint precision by Horikita Manabu.

"What a wretched, miserable sight—to actually be defeated by your own kouhai. How does it feel?"

Nagumo Miyabi, who had charged through the finish line right behind the two of them, wore a dark, stormy expression. Tilting his head back, he violently downed a huge gulp of mineral water, then crisply and decisively poured the rest over his own blond hair.

"A loss is a loss." Horikita Manabu twisted open his own bottle of mineral water and studied Nagumo with a look of astonishment. "As for you—to actually have this kind of reaction? I would have thought you'd be filled with bitter resentment at this result and refuse to acknowledge your defeat."

"That's right."

With a sharp crack, he crushed the mineral water bottle in his hand, deforming it. Nagumo drew a deep breath, his gaze locked dead onto Fuyuji. His voice squeezed out, word by word, from between clenched teeth.

"To actually lose to a kouhai who isn't even my own age... unforgivable! However—"

His tone shifted abruptly. In an instant, his voice turned light and breezy. "The moment I consider that even Horikita-senpai lost—it's not entirely unacceptable to me. Besides... this little contest was merely an appetizer. A pure competition of physical ability—it doesn't represent anything. If it were something else—for instance, the special event coming up in a moment—that would be an entirely different matter."

Hearing this, Horikita Manabu let out a breath of relief. Not because he was worried about Nagumo going to make trouble for Fuyuji—but because if these two utterly lawless, heaven-defying individuals ever clashed head-on, the entire school would probably suffer the collateral damage.

"So..." Nagumo fixed his burning, fiery gaze upon Horikita Manabu and spoke with urgent, impatient eagerness. "Senpai—your condition just now was a bit off. In a moment, during the cross-campus race—let's compete one more time. I absolutely will not lose."

Horikita Manabu's expression darkened. The worry from just moments ago—that Nagumo might go seeking a showdown with Fuyuji—had, in this very instant, evaporated into nothingness. He truly couldn't understand—why was Nagumo so singularly obsessed with him?

Tightening the cap of his bottle, Horikita Manabu turned and walked toward his own class, drink in hand.

"Since I've agreed to it, I will naturally follow through."

"Sasuga, Horikita-senpai."

Turning his head, he glanced at Fuyuji, still chatting with Horikita Suzune, then at Horikita Manabu's retreating figure. Nagumo, who had originally intended to stroll over and issue a couple of provocations, instantly made the choice that sprang purely from his bodily instincts—and strode with great, sweeping steps directly toward Horikita Manabu.

At the very same time, the conversation between Fuyuji and Horikita Suzune was also drawing to a close.

"How does it feel—defeating your brother? Have you fallen in love with this sensation? How about simply changing your goal from now on to thoroughly taking your brother down, and bidding farewell to your weak, cowardly past?"

"Fuyuji-kun. You're acting a bit strange today." Horikita's cool, clear eyes fixed upon Fuyuji with deep suspicion. "Why are you constantly egging me on to do that sort of thing?"

"Am I?"

Fuyuji's gaze drifted elsewhere. Tilting his head, he began whistling a tuneless little melody. The slightly off-key, nameless tune radiated outward with the two of them at its center.

"..."

After continuing to stare at Fuyuji for a short while longer without discerning any particular reason, Horikita withdrew her gaze.

"Forget it. I can't make sense of your erratic, jumpy train of thought anyway."

Just then, all the competitors of the 1200-meter mixed relay had successively charged through the finish line. The sports field's broadcast timely rang out.

[All official competition events of this Sports Festival have now been successfully concluded. Twenty minutes from now, students interested in participating in the additional event—the Campus Orienteering Race—please proceed to the area beneath the speaker's platform to register.]

The moment this announcement was made, the atmosphere of the venue—which had just settled down following the conclusion of the 1200-meter mixed relay—once again erupted with fervent excitement.

Students who had been eagerly awaiting this very moment rose from the spectator stands one after another, gazing fervently toward the speaker's platform. Some, unable to wait any longer, had already begun striding briskly toward it.

After all, the extra event was different from the Sports Festival. They had toiled and suffered for an entire day—all for a maximum of fifty class points, most of which were deductions anyway.

This was five million personal points—one-quarter of a Class A graduation qualification. Even though there was only one winner, who could guarantee that person wouldn't be themselves?

Horikita still remembered that day in the gymnasium—the utterly face-smacking pose Fuyuji had struck.

"So... you're going, right? You money-grubber?"

"Of course! Who else but me deserves those five million!" Fuyuji straightened his back and spoke with heroic, soaring bravado. "If I win, I'll split five thousand points with you."

"..."

Horikita pressed a hand to her forehead and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Keep it for yourself. Still—if we run into each other later, don't expect me to surrender and admit defeat to you."

"Hm?" Fuyuji arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you say last time you weren't interested? Don't tell me you've finally realized that no matter what, you can't defeat our Class A, and are now preparing to jump ship and switch over to my side?"

Having spoken, Fuyuji was overjoyed beyond measure. He beckoned repeatedly toward Horikita.

"Come, come! This is excellent! Once you arrive in Class A, focus solely on assisting me. In the days to come, with you as my subject and I as your liege, joining hands—we shall surely dominate and reign supreme over Advanced Nurturing High, and leave behind, in the annals of this school's history, a glorious tale of sweeping aside the Crap-Eating King!"

"...Fuyuji-kun. Could you please wash out that filthy brain of yours? And also—" Horikita covered her lips with a look of profound distaste and fiercely gouged Fuyuji with a glare. "Don't say such disgusting things."

"You won't?" Fuyuji clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"In your dreams. Entering this competition is purely because I want to compete on the same stage as my brother one more time." Horikita's gaze swept past Fuyuji's shoulder. "I am, after all, still the leader of Class D. To directly abandon my own class—never mind my brother—I'm afraid even I myself would hold myself in contempt."

Not far away, several Class D students were excitedly jogging over in this direction.

Taking first place in the entire school in the 1200-meter mixed relay—for this Class D, which had been stuck at zero points since the very start of the school year—was still a tremendous boost to morale.

"I'll be going now. See you in a bit."

Horikita raised a hand and swept back her jet-black hair—lustrous as lead powder. A fragrance of mint shampoo, steeped deep into every strand, mingled with a trace of post-exercise perspiration, came wafting directly toward his face. Then, she strode off toward the direction of the Class D students.

"Tss—!"

Watching Horikita's slender figure gradually recede into the distance, Fuyuji sucked in a sharp breath of cold air.

Good heavens. Horikita-girl seems like she's not as easy to manipulate as before.

Then wouldn't Class D... No, no, no!

He shook his head and reconsidered.

Wasn't there still those sub-humans in Class D? Plus that scummy loli Sakayanagi who only threw her weight around within her own nest. And Cha-Cha, that treacherous spy whose love was unrequited. Unless some heaven-sent powerhouse descended to unify and consolidate them, Class D would remain a scattered heap of loose sand.

Having swiftly thought this through, Fuyuji also turned his body around and walked toward Shiraishi Asuka and Kamuro Masumi, who had long been waiting for him off to the side.

The moment they met—Kamuro, both arms folded, her fingers tapping impatiently against her arm in a rapid, rhythmic beat—flung a towel straight at him, instantly covering his face.

"Scheming some new underhanded plot, or sweet-talking and deceiving some girl again?"

His vision now a field of pure white, Fuyuji's expression faltered with embarrassment. "Cough, cough. I'm simply scouting and recruiting talent for the class ahead of time."

"That Horikita-san seems like she isn't easy to deal with. I heard she also knows Aikido. Fuyuji needs to be careful, okay." A voice as gentle and tender as water sounded beside his ear, carrying a trace of a smile.

Immediately after, a pair of soft, delicate little hands pressed down over the towel atop Fuyuji's hair, gently bending him forward at the waist as they meticulously, carefully wiped the sweat from his head.

"Don't worry!"

Beneath the towel, what met his eyes was a slender waist that could be encircled with a single arm. With each movement of her hands as she wiped him down, the hem of her pure white athletic shirt fluttered and swayed, revealing glimpses of her soft, supple belly—now visible, now hidden.

A soft, coquettish hum spilled from the girl's lips. Unable to restrain himself, Fuyuji wrapped one arm around that delicate, tender waist. His head instantly buried itself into the perfectly curved, lofty swell of the girl's bosom.

"Shiraishi-mama, I'm so tired. I want to eat your cooking." He closed his eyes and greedily breathed in every last scent upon the girl's body.

Mm... it should be a pure white design with a bit of lace patterning. It's just that it's a little... pokey.

"Then..." The motions of wiping his head instantly slowed, gently, tenderly stroking and caressing the strands of his hair. "How about this evening?"

"Alright."

Fuyuji blurted out the word—and immediately received a solid, well-aimed kick to the rear.

"Fuyuji Mikage! Let go of her this instant!"

Kamuro's face was instantly dyed a thin layer of crimson. Fuyuji, his face covered by the towel, couldn't see—but she, standing outside, could see it all with perfect, crystalline clarity.

Still out here on the sports field, wrapping his arm around a girl's waist—this utterly shameless bastard!

"Fine..."

Fuyuji reluctantly, lingeringly pulled away from that warm, soft sanctuary.

Clearly, Bro loved thrills—and yet, when it came to this sort of thing, she was so incredibly conservative. She even preferred wearing pants over skirts and stockings. Truly, what a pity.

Returning to the Class A camp, Katsuragi Kohei had already furrowed his brow and begun, without pause or rest, estimating and calculating the scores of each class.

In comparison, the remaining students were considerably more relaxed. Seated cross-legged on the ground, they excitedly discussed the additional event that was soon to begin.

The Campus Orienteering Race—even without competing for rankings, merely participating and experiencing the activities within it—was an immensely entertaining and enjoyable sport in its own right.

Regrettably, the on-site discussion lasted only until the very moment Fuyuji returned to the camp.

The instant he stepped into the tent, a group of boys led by Hashimoto Masayoshi, in the span of a lightning flash, converged their gazes upon Fuyuji.

In that very moment, cheers and whistles came cascading one after another, pelting toward him like a rainstorm...

Twenty minutes later.

Amidst the fervent, heated atmosphere of the entire class, Fuyuji—having once again been thoroughly steamed—reluctantly set down the cards in his hand and, together with Morishita Ai and the others, made his way toward the speaker's platform.

The result was utterly unsurprising. Fuyuji once again, yet again, spotted that familiar figure upon the speaker's platform.

There stood Class A's homeroom teacher, Mashima Tomonari—still ramrod straight as ever upon the speaker's platform, gazing down at the students below with a stern, solemn expression.

Fuyuji pressed a hand to his face with immense, strained difficulty.

Why is it always you? Is there really no one else in this school? Following the glorious tradition of the British Empire—if something works, use it till it's worked to death, is that it?

And if he remembered correctly—didn't you also seem to want to participate in this competition? Acting as both referee and competitor?

However, this time, Mashima did not receive Fuyuji's telepathic communication. Amidst the clamorous, buzzing noise, he once again confirmed the time and formally began the rules briefing.

"Before the competition begins, I will explain the rules in detail. Please be sure to listen carefully. Any questions are to be raised after the rules briefing has concluded." Mashima's voice, amplified through the microphone, rang out clearly across the entire field.

As he spoke, he pulled his phone from his pocket and cast its screen onto the large display behind him, ensuring all students could see.

"For this Campus Orienteering Race, navigation and check-in records will be conducted entirely through a dedicated app developed by the school. The rules are very simple..."

He paused briefly. His fingers slid across the screen and tapped open an app bearing the Advanced Nurturing High school emblem as its icon. The main display was a clear, detailed, comprehensive map of the entire Advanced Nurturing High campus.

On the map, the location of the sports field was marked with an obvious starting point icon. And across every corner of the campus—the teaching building, the library, Keyaki Mall, the special teaching building, even extending to the wooded areas at the campus perimeter and near the artificial lake—nearly twenty points of light flickered and pulsed in different colors.

"As you can see," Mashima zoomed in and out of the map, demonstrating the app's functions, "the map marks the locations of all possible check-in points. There are twenty in total."

"The core of the competition rules lies in the completion of the check-in points." Mashima's voice turned clear and forceful. "You are required to complete two categories of check-in points..."

"First category: Five Mandatory Checkpoints." On the map, five points of light instantly transformed into a striking, vivid red, evenly distributed across different directions of the campus. "These five points marked in red are locations that all competitors must visit in any order and successfully complete the challenge to check in. Missing the check-in record for any single mandatory checkpoint will render your final result invalid."

"Second category: Ten Optional Challenges." As he spoke, the remaining dozen or so points of light on the map shifted into a soft, gentle blue. "On the basis of completing the five mandatory checkpoints, you must freely select and successfully complete ten from among these blue optional checkpoints. In other words, you are required to complete fifteen check-in points in total."

"The difficulty of the optional challenges may vary. Completion time will also affect your total elapsed time. Assessing your own abilities and selecting the optimal route and challenge combination is the key strategy of this competition." Mashima emphasized. "The app will record, in real time, the type and number of check-in points you have completed and display them on the map. The first competitor to complete all check-ins and return to the Advanced Nurturing High speaker's platform will claim victory in this competition."

Having spoken, he turned his head and looked at the crowd of students below the platform.

"Are there any questions?"

The entire body of students shook their heads in perfect, uniform unison.

This kind of check-in activity—even an elementary schooler could understand it. Five mandatory + ten optional. No matter how godlike Advanced Nurturing High was, surely they wouldn't go so far as to admit a few mentally deficient students... right?

"Then, in that case..."

Mashima drew a deep breath and swept his gaze across the entire field of students. Then, he formally announced to the entire assembly:

"In a moment, after registration is complete—at four o'clock in the afternoon—the competition will officially begin!"

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If you want to Support me, you can Read Extra Chapters on : [email protected]/Yuni_TL

50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!

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If you want to Support me, you can Read Extra Chapters on : [email protected]/Yuni_TL

50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!