Chapter 12: That's right! I actually repeated the grade!
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"I'll do it!"
Haruki Yamauchi stood up eagerly, a grin on his face as he ran a hand through his messy, uncombed hair.
"My name is Haruki Yamauchi," he began. "Back in elementary school, I played table tennis and even made it to the national competition. In high school, I was the ace pitcher for the baseball club. I wore number 4, but I got injured during the high school league. I'm still recovering now."
"Please take care of me."
While introducing himself, Haruki Yamauchi made exaggerated motions, mimicking a table tennis serve and a baseball pitch, which drew laughter from the class.
It wasn't clear if Haruki took everyone's laughter as a sign of being welcomed, but he certainly seemed to. Encouraged, he swung his imaginary baseball bat even more dramatically.
Rin Matsuoka glanced at the boy named Haruki Yamauchi and couldn't help but think that he looked like... a hyperactive monkey in a zoo.
Rin was amused by his own thought and accidentally let out a chuckle.
"Oh, you really do look like a funny monkey in a zoo."
Wait, who just voiced Rin's inner thoughts?
The tone was dripping with mockery and contempt, and since it was so loud, everyone in Class D heard it.
Who had the nerve to openly insult Haruki Yamauchi by calling him a monkey?
The students in Class D all turned toward the direction the voice had come from, and they saw the imposing figure of Koenji Rokusuke.
At that moment, Koenji still had his feet up on the desk and was busy trimming his nails with a nail file.
Hirata, sensing the tension, spoke to Koenji tactfully, "Hey, that was a bit inappropriate, don't you think?"
"Oh?"
Koenji, still focused on his nails, replied in a casual tone, "What's so inappropriate about it? Don't you think he looks like a brainless monkey with all those ridiculous gestures?"
Koenji's repeated jabs left the students in Class D exchanging uneasy glances. Haruki Yamauchi's face reddened with anger!
Hmm... now he really does look more like a monkey.
"What did you just say, you jerk?!"
Koenji paid no mind to Yamauchi's outburst. He blew on his nails, admiring their neat and polished look with a satisfied grin.
"Wow, a deaf monkey too. Allow me to generously explain why you have no brains. You just said you were the ace pitcher of the baseball club in high school, right?"
"So what if I did?"
"That's why I said you have no brains. You're only in high school now."
"..." Yamauchi froze. While he was introducing himself, all he'd been thinking about was how to brag, impress the girls, and make them swoon over him.
He had completely forgotten that he was still in high school.
He was only a first-year student. How could he possibly have played in a high school baseball league already?
In fact, many students in Class D had already noticed the inconsistency in his story and had guessed that this guy, who didn't seem particularly impressive, was just making things up.
They saw through it but chose not to call him out.
After all, telling the truth would only cause trouble.
"I... I..." Yamauchi stammered, cold sweat forming on his forehead. Suddenly, he thought of an excuse and quickly said, "I actually repeated my first year of high school once! This is my second time in high school!"
"Yeah, that's it!"
"That's why I have experience playing in a high school baseball league!"
Koenji glanced at the overly confident Yamauchi with an expression that suggested he saw him as a clown. "Well then, repeat student," he sneered, "tell me — what was the name of your high school, your homeroom teacher, and which baseball league did you participate in?"
A flurry of questions, and Haruki Yamauchi's face turned pale.
*I was just bragging, and he actually asked me?*
*I don't know any of this!*
Seeing that Yamauchi was struggling to respond, Hirata, ever the peacemaker, quickly intervened to diffuse the tension. "Alright, alright, Yamauchi-san's self-introduction is over. Let's move on to the next person."
Grateful for the lifeline, Yamauchi sat down immediately, his face showing a mix of relief and embarrassment. As he took his seat, he glared at Koenji with resentment and hostility.
But that's all Haruki dared to do — glare. The imposing figure of Koenji Rokusuke was enough to sap any thoughts of a physical confrontation.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, seated to the left of Horikita Suzune, folded his hands and looked contemplative.
*I didn't expect Yamauchi's fabricated story to be exposed so quickly. So, when it's my turn to introduce myself, should I share my real experiences or make something up?*
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka's background was unlike anyone else's. From birth, he had been raised in a facility known as the "White Room."
The White Room — or White House — was a place designed to cultivate exceptional talents, and Ayanokouji had risen to become its strongest student, outlasting countless other competitors.
He was known as the Demon of the fourth generation of the White Room.
Under the intense training of the White Room, which aimed to cultivate all-round talents, Ayanokouji had been able to defeat fully grown instructors by the age of nine.
Later, the instructors had set an even more extreme challenge for him: to take down an entire gang.
Yes, a nine-year-old child was tasked with defeating a criminal gang...
It seemed absurd!
But what was even more unbelievable was that, once Ayanokouji was permitted to use weapons, he displayed incredible combat prowess and actually succeeded in defeating the gang.
So, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka's personal experiences were extraordinary — a hundred times more impressive than Haruki Yamauchi's exaggerated self-introduction!
The most remarkable part was that his experiences were not exaggerations or boasts, but facts!
After reflecting for a moment, Ayanokouji decided he needed to fabricate a normal backstory for himself. Otherwise, he'd risk being ridiculed and ostracized by everyone in Class D, just like Haruki.
Just as Ayanokouji was piecing together an ordinary narrative based on the other students' introductions, a rhythmic tapping of high heels echoed through the Class D classroom.
Moments later, a pair of elegant legs, clad in shiny black stockings, stepped into the room. The Class D homeroom teacher, Chabashira Sae, had arrived.
Chabashira Sae's sharp voice quickly filled the classroom. "Hello, freshmens. I am your homeroom instructor, Chabashira Sae. Please return to your seats."
The sudden arrival of the teacher abruptly ended the self-introductions. The students in Class D hurried back to their seats, sneaking curious glances at their new teacher.
Chabashira Sae, at 30 years old, was in the prime of her life, exuding a mature and captivating allure. Her stylish attire and refined features perfectly embodied the idealized image high school students had of an attractive woman.
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Give me some power stones