The Headmaster's Teachings

The flag scramble, which had felt as agonizingly long as three full days, finally reached its scoring phase.

The students gasped at the Hero Party's unexpectedly dominant tally.

"When on earth did the Hero gather so many flags?"

"I guess that's the salutatorian for you."

"What a shame... If Orknodi's team had kept up the pressure just a bit longer, they could've shut them down completely."

"Hey, at least we got to see a fantastic show."

"Ain't that the truth."

"I'm taking what I saw today to my grave."

As the male students exchanged solemn nods of reverence, looking as though they had just witnessed a UNESCO World Heritage site with their own eyes, the girls glared at them like they were literal bags of trash.

"What is wrong with those creeps?"

"Who knows."

"Why are they looking at me like that, anyway? Why is everyone staring with pity when I'm on the second-place team?"

Lotto looked thoroughly perplexed, but what did it matter?

"Don't mind them! We're taking first place anyway!" I chimed in cheerfully.

At my bright declaration, Hestia and Lotto's faces clouded over with heavy guilt.

"Orknodi... I'm so sorry. Our skills were lacking, so we couldn't defend first place. If only I had held off Sing, we could have gathered more flags right up until the end."

"You misread the tally, Orknodi. We gathered 62, but the Hero's team gathered 65."

In stark contrast to the gloom radiating from those two, Jigoku stood by looking bored out of his skull, lazily scratching his side with the barrel of his empty revolver like a backscratcher.

Flags? Who gives a damn. Got to blast some guns and have a blast. Now I just wanna soak in the afterglow of gunpowder, down a stiff drink, light up a smoke, and slack off.

His face practically screamed those exact words.

Gunfights, booze, smokes, and slacking off.

The quintessential pirate starter pack.

The Headmaster's colossal draconic head loomed overhead, his thundering voice reverberating across the field.

—Now, I shall announce the scores.

Scholar, standing among the Hero's team, raised his hand in flustered protest.

"Scores? But you already revealed the rankings. Aren't we in first place?"

—Your lack of attentiveness truly befits an inferior student. Did your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dull eyes honestly believe those flags came in different colors merely because someone picked them out for whimsical amusement?

"……."

Phew. Glad I kept my mouth shut.

Son Ocheon, Andersen, and several others quietly lowered their half-raised hands in sheer relief.

—The flags follow the spectrum of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. Their point values vary according to the difficulty of their acquisition.

"Wait, but the color with the most flags on the field wasn't red, it was orange!"

"Ah. That's because the only cloth I had on hand was orange, so I made them all orange," Giselle offered smoothly.

"……."

Arcadia shot Giselle a venomous glare.

"Would you prefer I craft them in violet next time, My Lady?"

"Forget it!"

A sudden shock of realization swept across Hero Ishtar's face.

Her team had stuffed their basket without paying the slightest attention to color. Naturally, the bulk of what they snatched up were low-difficulty, low-scoring red and orange flags.

Meanwhile, what about my team's basket?

It was a radiant kaleidoscope overflowing with every color under the sun. On top of that, under the convenient excuse of the 'flag reset,' I had pawned off all the low-value junk onto the other students and hoarded the high-scoring gems for ourselves.

"Wait, what? So we just had to avoid the orange flags from the very beginning?!"

"Then why the hell did we have to strip off our stockings?!"

"Hey, thanks to that, we made memories that'll last a lifetime."

The boys nodded in fervent agreement.

Did flag colors even matter right now?

They had just witnessed the once-in-a-lifetime spectacle of an entire group of noble girls frantically peeling off their stockings!

"These idiots went swimming with us without batting an eye, so why are they making such a huge fuss over stockings?"

"Who knows. Because they're perverts?"

Amidst the shuddering girls, an evil-aligned maiden holding a slender whip let out a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sly, purring chuckle.

"Men are all dogs by nature. Women are their rightful masters. Why not take this chance to pick out a pet boy of your own? You'll find raising one is surprisingly more amusing than keeping an actual hound."

"Oh my... How scandalous."

"Keeping a human being as a pet? To come up with such an inhumane idea... That's so, so incredible! I definitely want to try raising one too!"

"My father was right all along. Men really are beasts and degenerates. In that case, perhaps taming a wild stray into a house pet isn't such a terrible thing after all."

As the noble maidens began awakening to a twisted new fetish, several boys looked horrified while secretly, subtly casting longing glances back toward them.

Hmph. Weak-willed beta scrubs. A real man ought to pack on muscle, get strong, and claim his woman by sheer might. How could anyone dream of becoming someone's pet?

Even boys in the elite Upper Class were this pathetic. Imagine how easily the Lower Class boys—vastly outmatched in both combat prowess and financial power—would roll over if approached with such offers by Upper Class girls.

The chapter boss of next year, who would run rampant starting from the first semester of the second year, was already sprouting her wicked roots.

Still too early to step in. And looking at it now, I wonder if I even need to stop her.

Knowing the full scale of the incidents that ultra-sadistic dominatrix would cause and their fallout in the original game, it was sheer madness. Yet, I couldn't entirely fault teenage boys desperate to get close to pretty girls by any means necessary.

Well, so long as Giselle or Son Ocheon didn't fall into that trap, it wasn't my problem.

—The calculation based on flag colors is complete. Here are the final results for each team.

With the point calculation complete, two teams shot dramatically up the leaderboards.

Our team flipped from second to first, while Cassia's team, previously rotting near the absolute bottom, rocketed straight into third place.

"How the hell are the Group C bastards scored so high?!"

"They only had five flags! You mean every single one was worth six points?!"

Students from Groups A and B stood frozen in shock.

Cassia's team had quietly watched from the corner the entire time the brawl raged on. They refused to surrender their flags during the reset, but they didn't join the fray or disrupt anyone either.

Rock-bottom ranking. Zero intent to participate.

The others had taken pity on them and left them alone—only for those passive onlookers to snatch third place without breaking a sweat.

—Are you beginning to grasp the lesson? The true meaning of forming groups and preaching unity at this academy?

—Unity is nothing more than a crutch for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the pitifully weak!

—The truly strong exploit that very unity, turning it into their feast.

—This assignment was won by a cunning flag merchant, a wicked child who fooled everyone behind an innocent face, and a cabal of voyeurs who quietly sat back and savored the worth of their prey!

"Headmaster, second place went to the Hero Party, though."

—You bear the title of Hero and take second place, and you aren't humiliated? If it were me, I'd be kicking my blankets in shame for a solid week.

"……."

Even under the Headmaster's vicious mockery, the students had no choice but to accept the cold, hard numbers before their eyes.

This was where the cost-efficiency of flags truly shone.

Every drop in rank docked 100 points from the total awarded to the team leader! Since a single flag often decided the rankings, the going market rate was up to 100 points per flag.

Maybe it was because of me in this playthrough, but the Hero collected way more flags than usual.

Though there had been some inflation, team leaders received massive point payouts. And here was where the Headmaster's sheer malice revealed itself: the notification pinged only the team leaders' magic watches, not the team members'.

It was a calculated move to stoke human greed.

Never form a party.

Collective living is pure hell.

Middle managers and leaders will always skim off your pay.

A deliberately reckless distribution system engineered to deliver a brutal reality check!

The first time I took this exam back in the game, I was thrilled thinking the reward was just ten points per person.

Getting to eat two full meals at the cafeteria just for attending a lecture! When I later found out we should have gotten 500 points each, and that our team leader had pocketed the rest while tossing us ten points like breadcrumbs, I buried a greatsword in the bastard's skull. Going on a refreshing murder spree before restarting the cycle was still, looking back, the best decision I ever made.

Still, my teammates are good kids who worked hard, so I should split it fairly.

I coolly fired off the transfers right on the spot and declared loudly for everyone to hear:

"I split the three thousand points evenly into four! Everyone check your balance, okay?"

The other team leaders shot venomous glares in my direction.

Hmph. Like your scowls scare me.

"Orknodi. You truly belong in the Hero's party."

"Gross. No way. Why would I?"

"Heh. Still not up to your standards, am I? Very well. Watch closely as I, Hero Ishtar, forge ahead through the academy's curriculum. One day, I will earn your acknowledgment."

Watching Ishtar march off after making her unilateral vow was overwhelmingly burdensome.

If anyone still wants to play the hero after sitting through Professor Destroyer's lectures, you really have to question their IQ.

"Orknodi, the class is over. What are you going to do now?"

"Since lectures are done for the day, I'm thinking of checking out the clubs for a bit."

Isabelle, who had approached to ask, turned away with an exhausted look.

"How on earth do you still have stamina left? I'm beat, I'm heading back. Having those boys constantly ogling my legs is getting on my nerves, too."

Instead of wasting time joining the Hero's party and embarking on absurd adventures from the second year onward, it was far better to disarm the academy's hidden landmines and prepare for a comfortable campus life.

In this ridiculous academy, there were just as many unhinged upperclassmen as there were insane professors. And the landmine I intended to dismantle this time was one planted inside a club by one of those very upperclassmen.