Chapter 263: You Get Stronger After Completing the Training

The next morning at six, melodious music rang through the dormitory corridor. A while later, the speaker in the upper right corner of the room clicked on, and the music played inside as well.

At this hour, the sun had yet to rise. The room was dim. The playing cards scattered across the floor and the crooked, askew chairs all showed how fierce last night’s battle had been.

“Shit-Eater King, go smash that speaker so we don’t have to get up.” Fuyuji Mikage, on the top bunk, had completely forgotten his grand words from last night. He comfortably turned over.

“Dare to order me again and I’ll kill you right now!”

In the darkness, Ryuen Kakeru slowly propped himself up, frowning. A sore, aching feeling spread from every limb and bone. A whole day of intense activity yesterday had built up a massive amount of lactic acid in his body. Moving even an inch was agonizing.

The others weren’t much better off. They all lay in bed groaning, dawdling for a long while before finally crawling up.

“Hiss! So cold!” Hashimoto Masayoshi threw off the blanket, rubbed his arms with both hands, and let out a weary sigh. “This kind of life, and it’s supposed to last a whole week?”

“You get used to it. Anyway, hurry up and get up. If we can’t reach the school building within the designated time, we’ll probably lose points.” Hamaguchi Tetsuya put on his glasses and reminded them mildly.

No matter what, the people present still didn’t want their group to fall to last place and cause their own class to lose points.

Amid a rustle of sounds, the glasses-wearing, the blanket-folding, the jacket-putting-on… everyone slowly and orderly got themselves dressed. The three Class B students even found time to tidy up the messy room.

“Where’s Kouenji?” Shibata So looked around and asked, puzzled.

Fuyuji pushed his hand into his tracksuit sleeve and answered casually, “Probably off training. He left a little after five.”

“Didn’t expect him to be so considerate. He didn’t even wake us up when he left. Is that the upbringing of a conglomerate heir?”

“Heh heh, hearing others praise my beautiful character first thing in the morning really makes for a delightful day.”

Kouenji Rokusuke, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, pushed the door open and walked in, his hearty laughter echoing through the room, his face radiant.

Ten minutes later.

Ryuen, the nominal group leader, scanned the room. Most of the students were ready, standing in place and working the stiffness out of their bodies.

“Seems there’s a reason the good students of Class A and Class B only lost a few points at the start of the school year.”

He let out a scoff without any attempt at politeness, then abruptly turned his head and fixed his gaze on a figure still sprawled on the bed.

Amid faint snoring, a few barely audible sleep-murmurs emerged. The blanket over his chest rose and fell slightly. The group exchanged a glance, silently stepped forward, and collectively poked their heads over.

“Mmm, I-I can’t eat anymore, Tsugumi-chan, w-wait for me to catch my breath, hehe, one kiss…”

Looking at Yamauchi Haruki’s puckered lips, the few of them instantly had black lines all over their foreheads. Their stomachs suddenly churned. Their faces turned green, as if they’d eaten a dead cockroach.

Shirasaki Tsugumi, one of the heroines of the famous galge The Shepherd of the Great Library.

“I actually have the same taste as this guy.” Fuyuji clutched his chest, all strength to struggle draining from his body. He lowered his head in disbelief and muttered to himself, “A few days ago I was just playing it with my bro…”

Then, the next second.

“Mmm haha, Hashimoto, my bro, once I become Class A’s leader, I’ll make you my number one henchman. All you have to do is offer thirty thousand points a month. Everyone else has to pay fifty thousand.”

Fuck, asking for death! Fuyuji-san aside, what kind of goods are you!

Hashimoto, who had been grinning beside them, instantly stopped smiling. Rage surged from the bottom of his heart, and his expression darkened accordingly.

“Heh heh… Hashimoto,” Ryuen gloated, rubbing his chin and mocking, “I never imagined you had this kind of kink—”

“Hey!” Yamauchi’s tone shifted, his voice suddenly turning arrogant. “Great Shit-Eater King, how about being my underling? I’ll graciously take you in, you know. You should properly thank me for taking in a guy like you.”

The corners of Ryuen’s mouth, which had just curved upward, froze on his face in an instant. The smile slowly faded, then began to migrate onto the faces of the remaining members of the group.

“Let’s kill him, yeah?” Fuyuji stepped forward, face dark.

“In a deep mountain forest like this, one person going missing shouldn’t be strange.” Hashimoto smiled, cracking his knuckles until they popped.

“Compared to Advanced Nurturing, this place has far too many blind spots.” Ryuen, the outlaw, said with full confidence.

“Wait, wait, it’s not that serious. Just wake him up now.” Watanabe Norihito hurriedly blocked the three of them, waving his hands repeatedly to mediate.

Ryuen twisted his head and silently glanced at the remaining two from Class D.

Yukimura Teruhiko pushed up his glasses. The lenses caught a glint of reflection under the light. His tone was calm, without a ripple. “This guy is even more universally disliked than Ryuen in Class D. Do whatever you want.”

Kouenji sat on the bed, took out his hand mirror, and busied himself with his messy hair, ignoring everyone.

“Heh…” Ryuen let out a cold laugh. “In that case, Albert!”

“Boss!” Yamada Albert put on his sunglasses.

“Give this dead pig a gentle wake-up call service.” Ryuen waved his hand casually, stuffed both hands in his pockets, and turned to leave.

As for his agreement with Hirata…

As everyone knew, Ryuen never kept his word. Besides, he hadn’t used any underhanded tricks. He was acting openly and aboveboard. Classes A, B, and C students could all bear witness. If Hirata had a problem, he could come out for another three-on-one.

Beside him, Shibata seemed to realize something. His pupils contracted instantly.

“Wait!”

“Relax. Albert has a sense of proportion.” Ryuen didn’t take it seriously.

The countless times he’d been hit by him, and all he ever ended up with were superficial injuries, proved it.

“Bad Boy!”

Yamada Albert rumbled as he raised his sandbag-sized fist and brought it down in a heavy punch, slamming into Yamauchi’s stomach through the blanket.

Yamauchi, who a second ago had been on a date with a beautiful girl in his dreams, was now clutching his stomach, his body curling up like a boiled shrimp. He belatedly opened his mouth, and a sharp pain hit him.

“Aaah!”

He struggled and twisted his body, tears and snot flowing out at the same time.

“It hurts… ah! It hurts so much, what’s going on, I should be on a sweet date with Tsugumi-chan right now!”

“Heh…” Ryuen’s mouth twisted into a venomous snake’s smile. “Where did this brat come from? Albert—”

“Wait, wait, wait, once is enough. He’s already up, isn’t he?”

The good students of Class B rushed in, hurriedly dragging and pulling Yamada Albert, whose fist was raised again, away.

“Hurry! Hurry, I need to find a doctor. My stomach hurts so much for some reason. Someone must have poisoned me.” Yamauchi, still not understanding the situation, lay on the bed yelling and screaming.

At this moment, Class A’s social peacock Hashimoto stepped forward at the right moment, patted Yamauchi on the shoulder, and reminded him with a face full of kindness:

“Yamauchi-kun, did you maybe bring the feeling from your dream into reality? Like Tsugumi-chan gave you a headbutt or something.”

“Huh?” Yamauchi stopped struggling. Thick confusion rose in his rat-like eyes. “Is that so? In the dream just now, Tsugumi-chan did seem really shy…”

Hashimoto continued to bluff him with a straight face. “See, it doesn’t hurt anymore now, does it? Didn’t you say you got bitten by a bullet ant before?”

“Ah! Yes, yes, yes!”

Yamauchi nodded repeatedly as if waking from a dream. Enduring the pain, he climbed up from the bed and stuck out a thumb at himself.

“Actually, I don’t hurt at all. Just now I was completely faking it. I was just testing whether you had any intention of poisoning me.”

The entire group room fell into a dead silence. Only the slightly noisy sounds of waking up from the surrounding rooms remained.

Ryuen, leaning against the wall watching the show, gaped in shock.

A guy like this actually got into Advanced Nurturing. Where on earth did the school find people like this? And more importantly, he had actually tangled with a Class D that had this guy in it for two whole semesters!

For the first time in his life, Ryuen doubted his own intelligence.

After a flurry of chaos, Ryuen’s group finally finished assembling and walked out of the room together to meet up with the large group. Then everyone was assigned to a classroom.

About a dozen or so minutes later, an unfamiliar teacher walked onto the podium.

“I’m Onodera, homeroom teacher of third-year Class B. Next, you need to go outside to the designated area to clean, followed by cleaning of the school building. If it rains, outdoor cleaning stops, but the school building cleaning time is doubled. After that, teachers in charge of each subject will come to instruct you. Only after completing zazen can you enter breakfast time. Please be sure to maintain proper courtesy toward all teachers. That is all!”

With that, Onodera handed out the schedule for the next few days, said a few more general words, and then left directly.

Forest school, inside the school building.

Swish… swish… swish…

Fuyuji was holding an ancient broom like the kind monks used in anime, standing by the window gazing at the distant scenery, occasionally sweeping the floor, bored out of his mind, slacking off.

Sharing the same corridor with him was Class B’s Shibata So, currently holding a rag, sticking out his butt, running back and forth across the floor.

Fuyuji sighed inwardly, then continued standing in place, slacking off.

The teacher earlier had said that subject teachers would come to instruct them next. In other words, there were no teachers nearby at this moment. There were no cameras here either. This was probably just the school being bored, coming up with these methods to temper the students’ will, with no point gains or losses involved.

At the very worst, whether this group won or lost wouldn’t affect Class A much. Since each class had the same number of people, the class point gains and losses were the same too. It wouldn’t widen or narrow the gap.

At this thought, Fuyuji turned his head and looked at Ryuen at the end of the corridor, who, contrary to his usual behavior, was holding a rag and wiping the window glass.

Except for Ryuen!

Clearly, the doubled bonus for a top-three finish still held considerable allure for Ryuen, so much so that he was actually seriously cleaning. It didn’t fit his delinquent persona at all.

White clouds drifted lazily outside the window. The weather was nice today. Looking up, you could see blue sky.

Having finally slogged through the cleaning, the next thing to appear was “zazen”!

Fuyuji and the others were led to a place resembling a dojo. The floor was covered with tatami mats. The scent of rush grass filled the air.

“Starting today, you will sit in zazen here every morning and evening.”

A stern middle-aged instructor in dojo attire spoke in a severe tone.

“Find a place that feels comfortable and sit down. In the first class, I will explain to you what the Way of the Spirit is. Once you master this skill proficiently, it will significantly improve your concentration. Whether for your academic ability, work efficiency, or sleep quality, it will be of considerable help.”

Fuyuji, in the crowd, nodded repeatedly as he listened.

No one… understands mental power better than me! Accordion pose.jpg

According to this teacher, this place was called a zazen hall. Whether standing or walking, you had to clench your fist and cup it with your other hand. This was the salute both sides performed when meeting in wuxia movies, called baoquan.

“Zazen is a form of meditation. It’s not sitting there emptying your mind. You have to close your eyes and visualize.”

As he spoke, the teacher closed his eyes and demonstrated the sitting posture for everyone. After sitting cross-legged, he placed both feet on top of his thighs.

“This is the lotus position. On the final day’s exam, the standard of this posture will affect your exam results. So please learn it as best you can.”

Imitating the teacher, the students all bent their legs into position. The next second.

“Hiss! Aaah! Why does it hurt so much?!”

“Ow ow ow, seriously? I can only get one leg up. And if I put the other leg up too, won’t it break?”

“This kind of thing, obviously it’s no trouble for—ah! I-it must be because I got up too early today, it affected my performance.”

…

Watching from the side, Fuyuji’s mouth curved into his confident smile.

Hmph! This was his strong suit!

A mere meditation. He’d mastered it on his very first day in this world. Watch me enter samadhi in one second!

He skillfully sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and didn’t visualize the Ten Ox Herding Pictures the instructor had provided, but chose something broader.

Sky… earth… ocean… forest… and the world…

The northern cold wind blew through the woods. Branches swayed. Snow fell. A few fledgling birds chirped in their nest. Below, a squirrel with a stash of nuts darted past like the wind, leaving only a dark blur…

“Hm?”

The stern, old-fashioned Showa-era instructor, who had been so serious a moment ago, now widened his eyes and looked at Kouenji Rokusuke and Fuyuji, both of whom had gone completely still in the crowd.

“They’ve already entered a meditative state so quickly? These two students must have learned similar skills long ago. But…”

The Showa-era instructor’s tone began to grow a little puzzled. He shifted a few steps and leaned closer to Fuyuji.

“Why is this student’s meditative state a bit different from the usual? Is it a different meditation method?”

But the next second, his puzzled expression froze.

There, sitting on the tatami in a standard zazen posture, was Fuyuji. Long, steady breaths came from his nostrils. His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm. His body was now completely relaxed. A final, barely audible snore lingered around him.

From the once-silent zazen hall, a middle-aged man’s gunpowder-explosion of a roar suddenly burst out.

“Aho ga!!”