บท 16: Chapter 16 - The Deserted Island Special Test

---Notice---

Yes, I am finally back! I wanted to let everyone know that uploads will now be on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, maybe with an extra on the weekend, to maintain the novel and have some free time, as before, I was writing every day.

**Please let me know what you think with comments and reviews!**

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"The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible." ~Arthur C. Clarke

Contemplating the vast expanse before me, I find the ocean's allure somewhat perplexing. Beauty, peace, tranquility, and amazement these are sentiments commonly evoked by such a sight. Yet, I find myself questioning not the nature of these feelings but rather the oddity of their absence.

As I stood there, lost in thought, the sound of approaching footsteps disrupted my thoughts. Glancing back, I noticed Ayanokoji's silhouette.

"What are you doing up here?" he inquired, drawing nearer with a curious tone.

Without shifting my gaze from the horizon, I pondered for a moment before answering. "I guess I am enjoying the view," I finally said.

Ayanokoji nodded, his expression unreadable yet understanding. "Kushida and Hirata were looking for you. They haven't seen you around," he mentioned, his voice steady.

"I see. Perhaps it's time to rejoin the others then. After all, our arrival on the island is imminent," I mused aloud, my voice trailing off as I turned away from the sea, and Ayanokoji followed.

Kikyo runs over with a bright smile, "Eru Chan, there you are!" she exclaims, while Hirata offers a smile and wave.

Ike's excitement is visible, "This is wild! I mean, I've daydreamed about stuff like this, but actually being here? It's beyond crazy!" he says enthusiastically.

Sudo also remarks, "Seriously, even my folks haven't had a vacation like this. They'd probably keel over from shock," he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

Kikyo turns her attention back to me, her curiosity evident, "What about you, Eru Chan? Have you ever been on a vacation like this? I think Koenji's the only one who's bragged about it," she asks, her gaze fixed on me.

I ponder for a moment, weighing the value of the information. "I've experienced other cruises," I admit, my tone neutral, revealing nothing more than necessary. "Though they were not of the public variety."

"Ehh, really?" Yamauchi asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice. The other students cast curious glances my way, particularly Kei Karuizawa, whose expression is a mix of confusion and skepticism. Sensing the need to clarify, Yamauchi quickly adds, "I mean, no offense, but you've never struck me as the spoiled or wealthy type."

"Well, it's not entirely unexpected, is it?" Kikyo says aloud. "If Eru Chan was skilled enough to be a junior tennis champion for consecutive years, he could have easily turned professional and earned a fortune. Yet, he chose to walk away from that path, at least for the time being." Her words seem to resonate as nods of agreement ripple through the classroom.

Kei Karuizawa opens her mouth to interject, perhaps with a biting remark or a piece of her mind, but she catches herself, her gaze locking with Hirata's. She seems to remain silent. It's an odd dynamic, their relationship ostensibly perfect on the surface, yet I can't help but perceive the facade. What compels them to maintain this charade?

Sato takes a moment before speaking. "I suppose that does make sense."

"It's peculiar that your name hasn't reached my ears," Koenji said, not bothering to glance in my direction. "A vessel of this caliber could command a price of a hundred billion yen easily. Even a rental would not be cheap, and you imply familiarity with such luxury. It's not common among peasants," he states, his tone dripping with the casual arrogance.

"My family's wealth is not derived from conventional avenues, hence our anonymity. Recognition is not a currency we've ever sought to accumulate."

As the final word of my sentence exited my mouth, the cruise ship's loudspeakers crackled to life, interrupting the students. "Attention, all students. Please convene on the deck. We will soon approach the island, offering a prime view," the announcement echoed, its formality was for nothing as bubbling excitement surged through Class D as most collectively clung to the belief that the island promised a relaxing time.

As if on cue, the students moved towards the deck, drawn by the shore's beauty. As the island came into view, it was met with wide-eyed wonder. It was too perfect, an unnatural perfection that gave away its artificiality. As the ship circled the island's perimeter, its small size became apparent, small enough to prevent us from getting lost yet sufficiently expansive to accommodate us all.

The loudspeaker's voice pierced the air once more. "We have docked. Students are to change into their tracksuits." Whispers spread among the students, some dressed in swimwear, as they exchanged glances and retreated to their quarters. The directive continued, "Bring your mobile devices, and upon readiness, reconvene on the deck. Leave behind all personal items; they will be seized if brought. And attend to any 'necessities' beforehand."

I was already wearing my tracksuit, so while the rest went to change, I stayed behind and made my way to the deck. Students from all classes were gathered there, and as we docked, the announcement added, "Class A will disembark first. Remember, no phones are allowed on the island. Hand them over to your homeroom teacher before you head down."

After we were checked and our turn came to disembark, I slowed down, noting Kikyo walking behind me. "Kikyo, did they subject you to a thorough search as well?"

Kikyo caught up, and a hint of genuine surprise flickering across her features before she composed herself. "Yes, it was unexpected. They're usually content with only confiscating phones during tests, but this time, they seemed adamant about us not carrying anything."

Internally, I had considered the possibility of utilizing her to smuggle a small yet crucial item for survival concealed on her person. The chance of success was high, but the associated risk was likely substantial. Given the circumstances, it appears relinquishing that plan was a good decision.

As the classes formed orderly lines, Chabashira sensei's voice cut through the talks, "I'll be taking attendance for Class D," she announced. She moved down the line, quickly ticking off names from her clipboard. The students of Class D are impatient, still oblivious to the true nature of the situation unfolding before them.

In the midst of the growing restlessness, Mashima sensei of Class A stepped forward, commanding the attention of all four classes.

"I'm pleased to see everyone has arrived safely. Unfortunately, one student couldn't make it due to health concerns," he announced, pausing as a wave of whispers and confused glances swept through the students. "Let's begin this academic year's first challenge," he continued, instantly recapturing everyone's focus.

"Challenge?" I said silently, my mind already turning over the implications.

A murmur of disbelief rose from the crowd. "I thought we were here for a vacation!"

"What's this about?"

The confusion was most pronounced among my classmates in Class D, their bewilderment a stark contrast to the smirks from the other classes. It seemed evident that the thorough search before boarding should have hinted at something more than a simple getaway.

Mashima sensei's voice cut through the chatter once more. "This test will span one week, concluding at noon on the seventh day. From this moment, consider this island your domain. We'll be evaluating your class's ability to work together through a survival test. You'll need to adapt to living here. Each class will receive two tents, two flashlights, and a box of matches. Sunscreen, toothbrushes, and sanitary items for the girls will be provided. Should you have any questions, direct them to your homeroom teachers."

As pandemonium ensued among the students, particularly those from Class D, my thoughts remained clear and detached. The scenario was intriguing, yet something didn't quite fit. A survival test? This school's methods were never so straightforward. Survival skills would be as crucial as teamwork here—if a class had members adept at survival, it would undoubtedly have an advantage. But that's not how the school operates; they wouldn't allow the winner of this test to be dictated by something as simple as which class has the best survival skills. There must be another layer to this 'test.' The actual test of teamwork is often hidden in subtleties, not in the overt challenges.

Chabashira sensei, with her characteristic detachment and strategic approach, addressed the students, her gaze briefly intersecting with mine. "You might be wondering about the purpose of this test," she began, her voice devoid of warmth. "It's just as Mashima sensei described the theme is 'freedom.' Each class is granted 300 points. How you use them is your choice: spend them judiciously or squander them. You'll also receive a survival guide."

Her explanation prompted a question from me. "Is there a risk in utilizing these points?"

After a moment's hesitation, she replied, "Any points remaining at the end of the exam will contribute to your class's overall score."

The playing field seemed level for all classes involved.

Chabashira sensei continued, "You may opt out of the test under certain conditions, but be aware that each withdrawal will cost your class 30 points. Class A has already incurred this penalty due to a student's absence for medical reasons."

We were then issued special wristwatch tools for security and tracking our well-being and whereabouts.

While the watches were distributed and my classmates bombarded the teachers with questions, I examined the booklet in Hirata's possession. It outlined specifics like daily roll calls at 8 am and 8 pm, penalties for environmental damage, absence at roll call, or interference with other classes.

The presence of roll calls implied that the teachers would be close at hand, an unsurprising revelation given the circumstances.

Sudo's voice broke the silence, a hint of urgency lacing his words. "Hey, teach, I gotta hit the restroom. Where's the nearest one?"

Chabashira sensei, with her usual calm composure, unfolded a box with a flick of her wrist. "This will be our portable solution," she announced, a smile playing on her lips. I couldn't help but notice the wave of disgust that swept across my classmates' faces.

Shinohara's voice was tinged with disbelief. "You're joking, right?" she muttered, eyeing the makeshift toilet.

Chabashira sensei's smile didn't waver. "It's unisex, and it even comes with a tent for privacy," she explained as if that would ease the collective discomfort.

Before the murmurs could spiral into chaos, I interjected. "Let's not dwell on it. We have the option to upgrade if necessary," I suggested, and the crowd, albeit reluctantly, seemed to accept this temporary fix.

Chabashira sensei, with her usual air of detachment and strategic thinking, addressed the class, her voice cutting through the silence. "I'll lay out the final rules," she began, and the room fell quiet. "Soon, you'll be free to explore. The island has several designated areas for you to settle. Claim a spot, and it's yours to use as you see fit. But remember, your claim lasts only eight hours. After that, your rights to the spot expire. Moreover, each occupation of a spot earns you an extra point, to be tallied at the exam's end. The details are in your booklet."

I glanced over the booklet in Hirata's grasp. It outlined the necessity of a keycard to secure spots, with one point awarded per occupation. However, encroaching on another class's territory would cost us a hefty 50 points. Keycard usage was limited to appointed leaders, and leadership changes required solid justification. Repeated occupation of the same spot was permitted. Intriguingly, on the final day, we could wager guesses on the identity of other classes' leaders for 50 points—a wrong guess meant a deduction, but a correct one would penalize the rival class as well. I knew it; the simplicity of the test was a facade, and there was more to uncover.

Chabashira sensei's voice brought my focus back. "It's time to elect a leader. This isn't optional. Inform me once you've made your choice, and we'll issue the keycard. You have until roll call to decide. If you fail to choose, we'll do it for you," she stated, then stepped back, leaving us to deliberate.

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I know you guys were hoping for something more exciting. Sorry to disappoint, but trust me, the following few chapters will be very entertaining!

The next upload will be Sunday (today is Thursday the 14th, where I live, so the next upload would be on the 17th if that helps)! Make sure to tune in; it will be a good chapter, and it will be longer than this one. I just wanted to get all this stuff out the way in one chapter instead of cramming it in between 2!

Question:

Lastly, I have a question. I'm curious how you guys would describe L (other than smart or genius, etc.). What traits does he have that pop out to you or that you like, and which ones do you not like? Is there anything you like about Eru in this story so far or dislike? I want to know to further improve on the story and my writing.