The silence on the coast, shattered by Sakamoto's mythical entrance, did not last long.
Whispers spread like a rising tide. All eyes remained fixed on the core of Class A—the man who had just arrived riding an orca.
In Class A's formation, Morishita Ai, standing in the front row, seized the brief pause before Mashima-sensei's official announcement. She turned slightly toward Sakamoto and asked in a low voice, barely above a whisper:
"Sakamoto-kun... how did you... with that orca...?"
Her voice trembled with incredulous curiosity.
Sakamoto pushed up his glasses. The glare on the lenses obscured his gaze. His tone remained as calm as ever.
"A few days ago, during an island survey, I discovered it beached in a secluded cove. I provided assistance. As our departure is imminent today, I went to bid it a final farewell. That is all."
His explanation was concise, matter-of-fact—as if rescuing a giant marine creature and forming a bond with it were trivial matters.
Morishita Ai wanted to ask more. How had he "just happened" to arrive precisely before the exam ended? How had he controlled the waves with such precision? But seeing Sakamoto's nonchalant demeanor—as though the matter was already closed—the words caught in her throat.
Some miracles, perhaps, neither needed nor invited explanation.
"Silence!"
Mashima-sensei's voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.
"Next, I will announce the final private points earned by each class in this exam."
Instantly, the entire beach fell silent. Even the Class A students, relaxed due to their commanding advantage, found themselves holding their breath. Everyone waited for the final confirmation.
Hearts pounded in unison.
Mashima's gaze swept across the four formations. He paused deliberately, as if building suspense, then announced in a deep voice:
"Fourth place—"
He drew out the word, letting it hang in the air.
His gaze seemed to settle on Class D's formation.
Horikita Suzune straightened unconsciously. Her usual cool composure flickered, replaced by something fragile—tension.
Had Ayanokoji's plan miscalculated?
"—Class D."
Mashima-sensei called the name clearly.
Horikita's expression darkened instantly. Her fingertips tightened almost imperceptibly. Around her, Class D students stirred—low murmurs of commotion, quiet sighs of disappointment.
At the front of Class B's formation, Ryuuen Kakeru's lips curved upward.
Just as expected. That naive boy from Class D—used without even realizing it.
But Mashima-sensei wasn't finished.
He didn't state Class D's specific points. Instead, he immediately announced another class:
"Class C."
Hmm?
Class D students froze. Class C students exchanged bewildered glances. Ichinose Honami's pink hair swayed in the sea breeze, her face etched with confusion.
Wasn't he announcing rankings? Why name two in a row?
The anomaly continued.
"Class B."
Mashima's voice rang out again—a hammer striking Ryuuen's heart.
Ryuuen's triumphant smile froze instantly. His brows drew tight. Surprise and confusion flashed through his eyes.
What did this mean? A slip of the tongue? An announcement method he hadn't anticipated?
Mashima observed the puzzled expressions spreading across the students' faces. Seemingly satisfied with the effect, he paused deliberately. Then, with crystal clarity, he revealed the answer:
"All three classes above have earned 150 points."
He let the words settle.
"Tied for... last place in this exam."
"What?!"
"Tied? 150 points?"
"How can it be a tie?!"
Chaos erupted on the beach. Students from Class D, Class C, and Class B wore expressions of shock, confusion, and a touch of absurdity.
Horikita Suzune froze for an instant. Then, visibly, her downcast expression returned to calm—relief flickering behind her eyes.
150 points. Not many, but tied for last place meant Class D hadn't been completely left behind.
Ayanokoji's plan had succeeded.
After brief surprise, Class C students quickly accepted the result. For them, with their conservative strategy, this score was acceptable. At least they hadn't lost ground.
Ryuuen Kakeru's reaction was entirely different.
He didn't show anger or frustration like Ishizaki Daichi beside him. Instead, his mind raced.
Anger solves nothing. He needed to understand how these 150 points came about. Why would three classes have identical scores? This was no coincidence.
Mashima raised his voice, quelling the commotion.
He hadn't finished.
His gaze turned to the Class A formation, and he announced the final result:
"First place—Class A—"
He paused, letting the anticipation build.
"780 points!"
The number exploded on the beach like a thunderclap, instantly drowning out all previous discussion. Students from the other three classes—including Ryuuen, Ichinose, and Horikita—wore identical expressions of disbelief.
780 points.
Nearly five times their own scores.
In a deserted island survival exam, this was nothing short of astronomical.
In the Class A formation, after a brief, stunned silence, an uncontrollable eruption of cheers and gasps of admiration broke loose. Though they had been mentally prepared, hearing this astonishing number directly from Mashima-sensei's lips unleashed a wave of accomplishment and joy that overwhelmed them completely.
Only Sakamoto remained quietly at the very front of the formation. He pushed up his glasses. The lenses reflected the shimmering waves, and no ripple of emotion crossed his face.
Mashima lowered the megaphone and issued final instructions: "Now, classes—in order—board the waiting speedboats and return to the cruise ship. Specific post-exam matters will be announced once we are aboard."
Guided by their homeroom teachers, the students began moving orderly toward the speedboats moored just offshore.
Before walking toward Class B's boat, Ryuuen Kakeru's gaze swept across the assembling Class D formation. His vision searched like a hawk's—seeking that seemingly ordinary figure who might have delivered an unexpected "surprise" during this exam.
He scanned. Once. Twice.
The figure wasn't there.
Ryuuen's footsteps faltered, just slightly.
Combined with that bizarre tied result of 150 points, a startling conjecture began taking shape in his mind. The guy he had always dismissed as an inconspicuous pawn in Class D was likely far more profound than he had imagined.
He had focused too much attention on the monster Sakamoto. And in doing so, had overlooked another potential threat.
"Interesting..." Ryuuen murmured to himself. Then he turned and strode onto Class B's speedboat.
Meanwhile, on the deck of the luxurious cruise ship—far from the bustling shore—a solitary figure leaned against the railing.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka had already changed into a clean uniform. His expression was indifferent as he watched the speedboats below carving paths through the sea, carrying students back to the ship.
He was the only student aboard at this moment.
Moments ago, through the public screen in the cabin, he had watched the entire results announcement in real-time—broadcast live from the beach.
The outcome aligned closely with his expectations.
150 points. Tied for last place.
This was within his plan.
He had never hoped to surpass Class A—that mountain standing before him—in this single exam. Not with someone like Sakamoto existing in that class. But by utilizing information asymmetry, the mutual checks and balances of various forces, and—most crucially—the "neglect effect" caused by Class A's overwhelming presence, he had secured a result where Class D did not fall behind.
That was enough. For now.
His gaze swept across the sea, passing over Class C's speedboat, then Class B's.
Finally, it settled on Class A's vessel.
But the result of three classes tying... might not necessarily be a coincidence.
Class A's speedboat cut through the waves, its portholes clear. Behind one of those windows, a tall figure also seemed to be gazing calmly through the glass—toward the cruise ship's deck.
Their eyes, separated by the azure sea and the noise of returning students, met silently in the air.