Last Class Standing - 6
The Student Council had gained two more pairs of hands, and Amelia and Olivia no longer had to go hungry. A world where no one got hurt—complete at last.
Even so, I couldn't bring myself to celebrate the arrival of future civil servants this time. All I wanted was for those two kids to be happy from here on out. Academy students sat somewhere between nobility and commoners, yet the way they lived looked more like the gap between commoners and the destitute.
No—not a gap. Just destitute, full stop. Honestly, if the Academy hadn't issued free uniforms, they probably would have looked like beggars in whatever clothes they owned.
"Karl, what on earth was that about?"
After the two impoverished sisters had bowed and scraped their way out with promises to work hard, Margeta broke the silence.
My request and the Student Council's manpower shortage had lined up neatly enough that she'd accepted them without complaint—but the suggestion had come completely out of nowhere. Claiming I'd done it for no reason at all would have been even stranger.
"It hurt to watch you working yourself so hard, Mar. Competent students should lighten the load, shouldn't they?"
The real reason was that the two of them were living so desperately I'd shoved them in just so they could eat. But Amelia's reaction suggested she hated the idea of anyone discovering how they really lived. She must have been worried about the reputation that would circulate among the noble students.
Of course, if Margeta heard their circumstances, she would only feel sorry for them—never think them undignified. On the contrary, every time she saw those two she would treat them with overflowing pity and consideration.
And that's exactly the problem.
Amelia had already been grinding through noble society for a year and a half. One taste of Margeta's pity-soaked kindness and she'd catch on immediately.
That would be awkward. Having something you'd carefully hidden get spilled by someone else's mouth is a little hard to take. Worse, I was almost afraid of the panic Amelia would spiral into if she thought the ducal house had seen her at her ugliest.
Olivia would probably write a letter swearing she was innocent and withdraw from the Academy. From the brief glimpse I'd gotten of her today, I could already see the future.
"Hmm. Is that so?"
Margeta's eyes narrowed at my carefully crafted excuse. The look said, Is that really all?
I reached over and gave her hair a light stroke.
"Truthfully, it also involves those two girls' private lives, so I can't tell you everything. I'm sorry, Mar."
A cowardly dodge—but effective. Her narrowed eyes slowly closed, and a peaceful expression settled over her face.
"Will you understand?"
"If it's a matter of privacy, there's nothing to be done."
Her gentle answer set my mind at ease. If she'd pressed in earnest I would have cracked eventually, but Margeta let it go.
"Since Karl recommended them with me in mind, I'll look after them well."
"I'm honored."
For reasons I didn't fully grasp, she was promising to take good care of them out of consideration for my face.
I really did owe a great deal to the breadth of Margeta's heart.
Once the sports festival was over, wasn't the proper thing to go home, wash up, and sleep?
"Looks like this one's going down to the wire."
"All the better. Settling things too fast would be boring."
"Haha! We've been on the same wavelength lately!"
We're not on the same wavelength. You two who are—get lost together.
My small, precious sanctuary—the Baking Club room—had been occupied by a wicked invading army. Technically they were club members and therefore lawful visitors, but they were invaders all the same.
Honestly, I'd assumed no one would show up during the inter-class tournament. With no club hours, why bother coming?
And yet they'd all come. From the president down to the rank-and-file—all six of them.
"You must be tired. Why not head back and rest?"
Translation: Get the hell out of my hideout right now, you bastards.
I aimed the remark especially at the rowdy red-and-blue duo. If I'd still been a department chief, I wouldn't have bothered with roundabout language—I'd already have grabbed them by the collar and thrown them out.
"We didn't even compete, so how could we be tired? It just felt empty going straight home, so we dropped by!"
I found myself nodding at Ryutis's words before I could stop myself. True enough—these guys had only watched. Escorting me through the four-person match already demanded their full attention; if they'd joined other events on top of that, it would have been a real headache.
He wasn't wrong. The difference between a fair point and a point that earns you a beating is a single letter.
If I was going to get isekai'd, I should've been born into the imperial family.
The thought flashed through me. I was suffering like this precisely because I was only a count's son. If I'd been royalty, wouldn't thrashing these guys be free of charge? The empire's delinquent prince is a staple of novels, after all.
...Come to think of it, that was the Second Prince. Damn it—not a novel. He actually existed.
"I see."
I gave up. Having my hope that no one would come betrayed still stung, but a crowded club room at this hour was nothing new.
I deliberately shifted my gaze elsewhere and found Luise and Erich working dough with their hands.
Was it just me, or had Erich gotten even closer to Luise since she turned him down?
Sensing my stare, Luise looked up first.
"On a day like this, you should rest a little."
"Just watching is no fun. I thought it would be nicer if we had something to eat together."
Luise's soft smile made me nod again despite myself.
Fair enough—watching a movie is better with popcorn, and spectating needs snacks too. Luise was only entered in the four-person match, so she must have been bored.
"You too?"
"Me too."
A short exchange was enough for Erich.
"Want some, hyung?"
"I'll make Orabeoni's myself."
"Guess I don't need any, then."
Yeah—they really had gotten closer after the rejection.
Anyway, if they were offering to make something, the polite thing was to accept gratefully.
"All right. I'm counting on you."
"Leave it to me!"
It had been a while since I'd seen Luise smile so brightly. She'd been avoiding me for a stretch, and I'd worried—but maybe things were all right now.
And for the first time in ages, I got to see the cookie tin I used to rely on in the first semester filled to the brim again.
The inter-class tournament rolled along without incident right up to the final day.
When Ryutis's class won, Later's class took the next match; every time the other side scored a victory, the students in a royal's class received "encouragement" (read: crushing pressure) from their resident prince and evolved into berserkers, while every other class watched the spectacle like a fire across the river.
A few sacrificed so the many could have peace. The greatest happiness for the greatest number. From a utilitarian standpoint, things had turned out correctly.
The students stuck in Ryutis's and Later's classes might feel hard done by, but what could they do? That was the hand they'd been dealt.
Luck is a skill too.
I'd thought the same thing during the last practical exam—luck is a skill. Character status screens list LUK among the stats, don't they? It's a proper ability. There are even all-luck thieves out there.
And if you looked on the bright side, sharing a class with royalty was a precious chance to build connections. Where else would you get an opportunity like that?
Of course, it was an opportunity I'd refuse even if it were handed to me.
"I'm glad our class doesn't have anything like that going on."
The voice beside me made me turn. Olivia was staring blankly out at the arena.
I hadn't meant to meet her—I'd just been wandering and run into her by chance. I'd planned to exchange a quick greeting and move on, but she'd suddenly glued herself to me.
Poor kid.
A child without parents. And once Amelia—who'd been playing parent—entered the Academy, Olivia must have become the parent herself, looking after her younger siblings.
At an age when she should have been receiving affection, she'd never gotten any proper care, so of course she suffered from affection starvation. Yuris and Sophia had been the same way.
That was why a little food—er, a few meals—had her running after me like this. Me, of all people, the one everyone else tried their hardest to avoid.
Like a dog.
The phrasing was off, but she really did feel like a big dog. Roughly a purple retriever.
"Where's Amelia?"
"She was with me until a little while ago, but I lost her. Unnie gets lost sometimes."
Pretty sure it's you who lost her, not Amelia.
I pressed my lips shut and pictured Amelia frantically searching for Olivia right now. A pitiful image.
When I stayed silent, Olivia turned her gaze on me. More precisely, on my hands.
"Um, Audit Department Chief. Could I have some of that too?"
"Sure."
"Wow! Thank you!"
She was eyeing Luise's handmade cookies so hungrily that I held out the tin without a fuss.
Strange—she'd seemed to be eating well enough since joining the Student Council... Had the long stretch of going hungry left her so scarred that she ate everything in sight?
Either way, Olivia's beaming face froze solid the moment she put a cookie in her mouth.
The old flavor, huh.
Luise must have reverted to the first-semester recipe because she thought only I would be eating them. Back to the era when even club members who liked her couldn't bring themselves to take a bite.
"...I guess my tastes just don't match the nobility's."
After chewing a few times, Olivia spoke in a dejected little voice.
No—at that level, her tastes matched just fine. There were people who couldn't even keep these down and had to spit them out.
"Everyone's palate is different. Nothing strange about it."
After that, Olivia never once looked at the cookie tin again.
Not long after, a breathless Amelia appeared and snatched Olivia up. She bowed her head several times as she hauled her sister away.
Her wariness toward me seemed to have eased a little since joining the Student Council, but she still looked afraid. Well—that was the normal reaction. Olivia was the odd one out.
Once the purple meerkat had collected her purple retriever, I moved on as well. The four-person match was about to start, so I needed a spot with a view of the arena.
"You've arrived?"
"Ah, yes. A little late."
When I got there, the principal was present, along with the vice-principal and the Student Council. This was the final event of the finals—everyone was on edge. If the four-person match passed without incident, the inter-class tournament would be over.
"Something seems to be going on."
The problem was that something already seemed to be going on.
I spoke while watching the faintly restless arena, and the principal gave an awkward smile.
Instructor Alberto, who was participating as a faculty member for Class 1-3, has been urgently summoned by the Magic Tower and has vacated his post.
"That is the situation."
"I see."
A perfectly timed announcement rolled out over the grounds. So Luise's class had recruited a Magic Department instructor.
That was solid firepower, too.
Magic Department instructors were dispatched from the Magic Tower, so their ability was beyond question.
The downside was that whenever something came up at the Tower, they had to drop Academy business and fly off—and that downside had chosen this exact moment to detonate.
"Most of the capable faculty have already been claimed by other classes."
A faint regret colored the principal's face as he stroked his beard.
It was hard to feel at ease about. Students were about to suffer not from their own mistakes, but from something outside the Academy entirely.
The four-person match will be delayed until Class 1-3 secures a new faculty member. We ask for your understanding.
They were waiting, at least—but would it matter? Any faculty still available at this point were people you wouldn't exactly want as your powerhouse.
A shame.
Victory in the four-person match was going to go to Ryutis or Later anyway, but Luise's class had been beached without even getting to field their full strength.
Class 1-3 has designated a new faculty member.
A few minutes later, the broadcast returned.
"Designated?"
"In cases like this, the usual procedure of seeking the faculty member's consent is waived. A courtesy to a class that has suffered from a sudden contingency."
Reasonable enough. A major hole had already been punched in their lineup. Forcing them to start from persuasion under those circumstances would have been far too harsh.
Th-the, Class, Class 1-3 has, designated, the, faculty, mem... ber...
What?
Did the feed lag?
The announcement suddenly stuttered. That had never happened before.
...the advisor of the Baking Club!
...?
Was there another Baking Club advisor I didn't know about?