Willing Acceptance
No way. How the hell is this possible? Professor, what exactly did I do to deserve you sticking me in a group like this? I've been paying such close attention in class! I've followed along diligently while you cooked, burned, and experimented at that prime front-row seat! I even went the extra mile and prepped dishes ahead of time using my game knowledge without being told! And this is how you repay a student who's only taking your class for one semester? A knife straight to the back of the head.
Of course, it could just be a random pairing and I'm overreacting. But the word "coincidence" should be used with extreme caution. Especially in a popular lecture like this one, where students are practically overflowing out the doors!
Out of all those people, ending up grouped with the idiot protagonist—the one I could easily call a fucking moron, a complete waste of space—was far too suspicious. This had to be the result of someone's deliberate intervention or agenda. If I were to summarize this complicated situation... well... ah, got it! It was basically the same as those Germans across the water claiming there was a shadowy Jewish conspiracy even after they'd wiped out all the European Jews. Since the Jews in this scenario had done nothing wrong, I could swap out one word and summarize it perfectly.
"The professor stabbed me in the back!"
Kang Sian had been screwed over by an enemy operating from the shadows. An enemy known as the professor. Though calling it simply "the professor" might be too narrow a category. For all I knew, the survival cooking instructor was actually a nefarious German spy. It might be nothing but wild delusion and nonsense, but if it was those damn Germans, it felt entirely plausible. Otherwise, there was no way a diligent, upright cadet like myself—who had been approaching the class with genuine combat readiness—would face such a trial.
"Sian, did you see the survival cooking notice? It explains everything from the midterm rules to all the test-related details..."
"Yeah... I suppose it does... The explanation is certainly thorough..."
A ghost was haunting the academy. A ghost known as the professor and the Germans...
I was sinking deeper into these gloomy thoughts when Shannon finished carefully reading the announcement and scratched her head.
"The way they formed the midterm groups feels pretty unusual, doesn't it?"
"Right?! It's extremely unusual! I have no idea why the professor would do it this way."
"Honestly, there are much simpler methods they could've used instead."
Indeed. She was absolutely right. I kept nodding vigorously in agreement with Shannon's words.
"It's not even random. I wonder why they specifically paired people with whoever was sitting across from them at the table?"
"...?"
Wait, wait, wait. What did she just say? The groups were formed with the person sitting across the table?
After the second lecture, the seats had been fixed, which meant I'd been facing Ines throughout every class. And those fixed seats had carried over into the midterm group assignments?
"They grouped people with whoever was sitting across from them?"
"Yes. Looking at the other names, it seems that's exactly what they did... Or do you think I'm wrong?"
"No... that's not it... You remembered everyone's names and their seating positions?"
"Not everyone. But I memorized the names of a few particularly distinctive people during roll call."
I could barely remember anyone. As expected of a talented mage—she had an impressive memory.
"Actually, I recognized it the moment I saw the name of the woman sitting across from me. Hehe."
"Sigh..."
A sigh escaped me—whether from relief or misfortune, I couldn't tell. The situation was truly something else. It was somewhat comforting to know it wasn't purely bad luck that put us together. But the ominous feeling that we'd be paired again for the final exam was distinctly unpleasant.
"If I'd known this would happen, I would've sat somewhere else..."
"Is it really that bad...? The Latin person who sits in front of you seemed like a decent cook, didn't they?"
"If that was the only issue, I wouldn't be reacting like this."
"...Ah."
Anyway, it was a group project. If the relationship between members was bad, it was impossible to predict what kind of result we'd produce. There would be slacking off, which would lead to problems—much like communism. It wasn't for nothing that communism had failed in the previous world and was failing in this one too.
Once again, I found myself sinking into the thought that the professor-Bolshevik had stabbed me in the back. And in the middle of that, something suddenly occurred to me.
"Ah!"
A solution that would make the group project go smoothly had come to mind.
* * *
Since the groups were already decided, there was no way to back out now. I had to drag along the protagonist, whose head was filled to the brim with discrimination. It was difficult in many ways. Honestly, the fact that I might literally have to drag her was also a problem. There would inevitably be clashes of opinion, and I'd be lucky if she didn't stab me in the back along the way.
Because of that, it seemed better to just operate independently. But with no idea how it would be recorded on the Hunter Watch or reported to the professor-Bolshevik, doing so would be insane. Besides, we had to cook 'together' using the ingredients we'd brought. If I went for a solo play, I might get a low score, or we might end up with some bizarre dish due to lack of communication.
While I was in a position where I could handle a low grade, I absolutely refused to screw up so badly that I couldn't graduate. Therefore, I needed something like a hypnosis app that could dominate Ines's—the protagonist's—mind. A method that ignored beliefs, was certain, safe, had minimal backlash, and allowed me to take the lead.
"Wouldn't it be simpler to just hit her more?"
The answer was more violence. If the protagonist wouldn't listen, wasn't that simply because there hadn't been enough physical violence? As the one with perfectly functioning hardware but glitched software, Ms. Nartika, had once said: Throughout all of East and West, the bat was a noble medicine that needed to be used more. In the 2,000 years of human history, the etiquette injector had never once been pushed into minor status. She'd used it plenty herself and knew its excellent effects firsthand.
It might seem somewhat inhumane, but being a hunter was an inherently inhumane profession to begin with. For the sake of the future, I should even be willing to abuse the protagonist in Futaba Park if necessary. Most importantly, Ines was weaker than me. The one currently holding the initiative—and the greater strength—was me.
If she came at me like a bitch, I'd just respond in kind. If she tried to tank our grades? I'd tank hers right back. Worried about a future where the protagonist becomes stronger than me? Well... future me would probably handle that somehow. If Ines's personality improved, I'd apologize immediately. If it still seemed lacking, I'd just give her the Grandel. And if even that didn't work, I'd beg and offer up anything.
If I showed that much sincerity, surely she wouldn't harbor any ill intentions or try anything strange. I completely let go of my doubts because I trusted my future self without a shred of fear. The burden of using force disappeared. When I considered Ines's problematic tendencies, the burden lightened even further. It was only natural—everyone is equal before the club. And naturally, everyone grovels when subjected to physical hypnosis.
It was a truly Nobel Prize in Physics-worthy reality, enough to make one spin in excitement. I wrapped up my thoughts on how to express this great discovery of peering into the abyss of the human heart. Then I immediately set off for Ines's house.
I knocked on the door, which had become familiar after visiting several times before. Knock knock. Creak.
A surprise visit without any prior call or text. Trying to make plans over the phone would only result in us spitting venom at each other anyway. This needed to be a one-on-one conversation in an environment where force could be used for control. I had no intention of letting everything go wrong by meeting in some disadvantageous, open setting.
With that wish in mind, the door opened. As always, a woman opened it without any suspicion.
"Um, who—huh?"
"Hey."
Her expression crumpled as usual. It was almost surprising how much less hostile it was compared to the beginning. Though clearly unhappy, Ines stepped aside as if willing to hear me out.
I entered the house and sat on the sofa in the living room. She sat down across from me. No food or drinks—just the two of us staring at each other. Honestly, the fact that we could even sit like this was significant progress. Normally, we'd have been arguing right at the doorway.
"Why are you here? Isn't today a free day with no fights scheduled?"
"...Are you seriously asking because you don't know?"
I gave her a look that said I was here because of the notice. Ines bit her lip slightly, then rubbed her face.
"I came to talk about the midterm cooking and how we'll handle the main ingredients."
"Ha... If only I hadn't ended up in the same group as you..."
"Whether you like it or not, the groups are already set. Save the complaints for when you're alone."
"...Tch."
A face full of dissatisfaction. Words spat out with obvious distaste. I stood up from my seat and moved to stand beside her.
"W-what are you doing?"
"For this midterm, we're doing everything exactly my way."
"Your way? Then what about me?"
"You just do what I tell you to do. I'll make sure to secure our points."
What she needed to do was quite clear. She just had to help execute the plan in my head. However, since I'd spoken in a rather coercive tone, I expected resistance. I clenched my fist tightly, preparing to be even more forceful if necessary.
Then, at the moment I anticipated Ines would protest—
She gave a subtle nod.
"If that's what you want, then fine. I'll do it."
An all-too-willing acceptance. Far too soft for someone who was supposed to be her target of discrimination. What was this? Why wasn't she causing a scene?