Day Six.
The sky was shrouded in heavy, leaden clouds. Large raindrops began to fall, quickly forming a continuous curtain of rain that enveloped the entire uninhabited island. Rainwater washed over the leaves, gathering into rivulets that snaked through the forest. The once-dry ground became muddy and treacherous.
Yet amidst this downpour, the plateau camp of Class A presented a sight entirely its own.
Thanks to Sakamoto's initial site selection and the continuously improved drainage system, the ground inside the camp—though damp—remained free of standing water. More importantly, every shelter roof had been meticulously waterproofed. Multiple layers of broad, thick banana leaves and other waterproof giant leaves overlapped seamlessly, their crucial seams sealed with melted resin. Rainwater flowed smoothly down the sloping roofs, forming shimmering curtains of water around each shelter, while the interiors remained astonishingly dry and comfortable.
Beneath the largest communal shelter, students gathered. A small fire crackled in the hearth, dispelling the rainy day's dampness. A handmade pottery pot hung over the flames, boiling herbal tea whose faint, refreshing aroma filled the air. No one seemed flustered or anxious because of the sudden storm.
At the camp entrance, Katsuragi Kohei watched several figures quickly disappear into the rain-shrouded depths of the jungle—a few students from Class B, who had just concluded a brief visit. He turned and returned under the shelter, wiping water droplets from his bald head before approaching Sakamoto, who sat on a flat stone, quietly observing the rain outside.
"Sakamoto-kun." Katsuragi's tone carried a hint of confusion and caution. "Those Class B students just now were clearly using the rain as an excuse to scout. Aren't we being... too accommodating?"
Sakamoto didn't immediately turn. His gaze remained fixed on the falling rain, like a curtain of pearls. He adjusted his glasses and replied calmly, "To have friends come from afar, is that not delightful? Moreover, on a day of wind and rain, to be able to set foot here can also be considered a kind of fate."
Katsuragi studied Sakamoto's composed, unconcerned demeanor. Though he retained his reservations, he also felt a measure of helplessness. He knew Sakamoto wasn't blind to Class B's intentions—he simply chose to respond this way. It stemmed from Class A's now-unassailable advantage.
"Ah, you're right." Katsuragi sighed, letting the matter drop. He withdrew the guide manual he carried and began final point calculations. His voice returned to its usual steady cadence.
"Let me summarize our class's current situation. First, regarding private points. We started with 300 points, but 30 were deducted due to Sakayanagi-san's absence, so our effective starting total was 270 points. During the exam, we hardly used any private points to purchase survival supplies—we relied entirely on camp self-sufficiency and wild foraging. Currently, we still have... 270 points."
This meant that after the exam, those 270 points would convert directly into class points without loss.
"Next are the bonus points from occupying strongholds. According to records, of the confirmed strongholds on the island, Class B and Class C each occupied one initially due to exploration order. The remaining strongholds were all claimed by our class."
He paused, allowing the weight of the numbers to settle.
"Thus, Class A is projected to receive a total of: 270 points + 510 points = 780 private points from this special exam. Converted to class points, that's 780 points. Added to our original base..."
Katsuragi's voice carried a rare undercurrent of excitement. "Our Class A's class points are about to break the 2000-point mark."
Even the usually composed Katsuragi felt a surge of satisfaction. He looked at Sakamoto with genuine appreciation. "This... this is almost entirely your doing, Sakamoto-kun."
Sakamoto finally turned slowly to face him, gently shaking his head. "Katsuragi-kun, you give me too much credit. The ones who truly worked hard are our tireless classmates." His gaze swept over the other Class A students—some resting, others conversing in low voices within the shelter. "It was their actions that transformed these points into an advantage for the class."
Katsuragi nodded, his admiration deepening. Not only was Sakamoto's ability extraordinary, but he never claimed credit for himself.
"So—regarding guessing other classes' leaders," Katsuragi continued, "I don't think we need to take risks anymore. Our advantage is already substantial enough; steady progress is the optimal strategy. I just wonder what the other classes look like now." Ryuuen's gloomy face surfaced in his mind. "Though I imagine it has... little to do with us anymore."
In the face of absolute strength, the struggles of other classes seemed insignificant.
Sakamoto offered no response. He simply redirected his gaze to the ceaseless rain beyond the shelter.
At the same time, on the other side of the island.
The boys' section of Class D's divided camp presented a far less comfortable picture than Class A's.
Though the tents barely kept out the rain, the damp air and muddy ground fostered an oppressive mood. Rain pattered relentlessly against canvas, and water seeped in at the edges, forcing constant vigilance against encroaching puddles. The earlier rift between boys and girls had left the camp fragmented, morale low, and cooperation minimal.
Inside one of the larger tents, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka sat in silence, listening to the rain. His expression remained impassive, but behind his eyes, calculations continued their steady, methodical progression.
The stolen underwear. The failed framing attempt. Sakamoto's untimely visit.
None of it was coincidence.
And somewhere out there, in the rain, the game continued.
Most of the boys huddled in their tents, the atmosphere subdued. Rain pattered monotonously against the canvas, a rhythm that seemed to mirror the collective lethargy that had settled over the divided camp.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka sat alone at the entrance of one tent, watching the drizzling rain outside. His face wore its perpetually unchanging expression—calm, detached, observant.
His plan had quietly entered its final stage.
All the traps had been laid. Every piece positioned. Now, he merely waited for the final day to arrive. Ayanokoji calmly rehearsed the possible outcomes in his mind, calculating probabilities, adjusting for variables.
It's just that... His thoughts drifted slightly, turning to the Class A camp on the cape highland. To the man who, by himself, had turned survival into an art form.
The goal he wanted to surpass—this time, that same man had inadvertently helped him.
Precisely because Class A, led by Sakamoto, had demonstrated such overwhelming strength and unfathomable strategic ability, most attention had become fixed on them. Other classes were preoccupied with how to deal with the ultimate challenge posed by Sakamoto. In contrast, Class D's internal chaos appeared in their eyes as little more than an easily exploitable tool for gaining points—not a threat requiring serious effort to counter.
This "neglect," born of the absolute strongest's presence, had provided Ayanokoji with an excellent opportunity to achieve his goals in secret.
Though surpassing Class A remained impossible—at least for now—by utilizing the information gap, he could secure a stable outcome for Class D. He ran the calculations once more, confirming the projection.
Second place. Stable second place.
Rain continued its steady rhythm against the tent. Ayanokoji sat quietly, like the most patient of hunters, waiting for noon tomorrow—the inevitable "leader guessing" segment that would determine the final rankings.
The uninhabited island exam was finally nearing its end.
And before the final moment arrived, both the triumphant Class A and the scheming Class D waited in silence beneath the rain curtain that covered the entire island.
Each in their own way. Each for their own reasons.