Chapter 11: The Sin We All Carry
It was 2:43 AM.
The halls of the NIFL had never felt this quiet before.
Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Dead.
The security guards marched us through the corridors in a single-file line. Nobody spoke. Nobody complained.
The aftermath of Game One had hollowed everyone out.
As I walked, I glanced out one of the windows.
A man stood beyond the school's gates.
Even from this distance, something about him stood out. He wasn't a parent. He wasn't staff.
He simply stood there staring at the building.
Watching.
Waiting.
His face was difficult to make out in the darkness. Late twenties. Maybe thirties.
It didn't matter.
I looked away.
There were more important things to think about.
I shifted my attention toward my classmates.
Their expressions told the story better than words could.
Shuto.
Hiro.
Ayame.
Rika.
Their eyes were still red.
They had spent the last several minutes crying.
Daiko's expulsion had affected them more than I expected.
I felt no particular sympathy.
The result had been inevitable the moment they allowed emotion to override logic.
A class that cannot make decisions deserves to be destroyed.
That was all.
The line continued moving.
No jokes.
No pointless conversations.
No loud arguments.
Usually Daiko would've said something stupid by now.
Usually Mr. Unagi would've insulted him.
Usually someone would've laughed.
But Daiko was gone.
The school had already removed him.
Class 1-C no longer existed.
We were Class 1-D now.
The title fit.
As we rounded a corner, another class approached from the opposite direction.
The new Class 1-C.
Satoshi's class.
Their promotion had come at our expense.
Satoshi immediately noticed us.
A grin spread across his face.
"How pathetic," he said.
"I expected better from you guys."
Several students behind him laughed.
Mocking us.
Ridiculing us.
Trying to provoke a reaction.
Nobody in my class responded.
Not one person.
They weren't remaining silent because they were mature.
They were silent because they had lost the energy to care.
Satoshi eventually disappeared down the hall.
The guards continued leading us forward.
Then, for a brief moment, one of them looked away.
That was enough.
I grabbed Haruto by the collar and pulled him around a nearby corner.
His expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
Cold.
Empty.
Detached.
I stared directly into his eyes.
"Tell me what went through your mind."
Haruto remained silent.
I continued.
"When Daiko was expelled, what did you feel?"
"Responsibility?"
"Regret?"
"Fear?"
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
"We could've remained Class C."
"We could've saved four innocent students."
"We could've avoided all of this."
I tightened my grip.
"But because of your idealism, everything collapsed."
Still nothing.
No defense.
No excuse.
No anger.
Just silence.
"When I first met you, I thought you were a nuisance."
"Someone standing in my way."
"I still think that."
His eyes finally shifted toward me.
"But I believed you had the potential to lead."
"A leader isn't someone who follows their ideals."
"A leader is someone willing to bear responsibility for the consequences of those ideals."
I took a step closer.
"In ninety minutes you've caused more damage to this class than Class A has caused in half a year."
Haruto finally spoke.
His voice was quiet.
"You want to take away people's futures."
I almost laughed.
The irony was absurd.
"Out of everyone in that room, your philosophy was the most noble."
I loosened my grip.
"And the most dangerous."
Haruto's expression didn't change.
So I delivered the only warning that mattered.
"If you continue treating this school like a morality experiment..."
"We'll all pay the price."
I released his collar.
"And if you become a liability..."
"I'll remove you from the board myself."
Neither of us said another word.
We returned to the line before anyone noticed.
As we walked, I heard a notification sound somewhere nearby.
A phone.
Someone had received a message.
I couldn't determine who.
Interesting.
Eventually, the guards brought us into another room.
A large circular table occupied the center.
A projector hung from the ceiling.
Several cameras were installed around the walls.
The school's new AI monitoring system.
Watching.
Recording.
Judging.
A blindfold was placed in front of every student.
I picked mine up.
The room remained silent.
Then the projector activated.
White light flooded the room.
Words appeared on the screen.
GAME 2: THE DEALER
The room immediately became tense.
I began reading.
Every rule.
Every condition.
Every punishment.
Every loophole.
Every possible exploit.
The game revolved around a single role.
The Dealer.
One student from each class would receive the position.
Sixteen dealers throughout the entire school.
The Dealer would possess three types of cards.
Blessing Cards.
Spare Cards.
Death Cards.
The Dealer would secretly distribute them.
The Dealer could reveal themselves.
Or remain hidden.
They could tell the truth.
Or lie.
They could save classmates.
Or condemn them.
Two students would inevitably receive Death Cards.
Potentially more.
And when those cards were revealed, the class would be forced to decide who deserved expulsion.
The game wasn't testing intelligence.
It wasn't testing leadership.
It wasn't even testing strategy.
It was testing trust.
Trust was far more fragile than logic.
Far easier to manipulate.
Far easier to destroy.
By the time I finished reading, I already understood the true purpose behind the game.
Game One had fractured the classes.
Game Two would turn those fractures into wounds.
The Dealer could destroy an entire class without ever revealing their identity.
They could betray everyone and walk away unnoticed.
Or sacrifice themselves for the sake of the group.
The power being offered was immense.
Which meant the temptation would be equally immense.
I leaned back in my chair.
The room felt colder now.
Not because of the air conditioning.
Because everyone would soon be forced to wonder the same thing.
Who among us is willing to betray the rest?
I stared at the screen one final time.
Then closed my eyes.
This wasn't going to end well.
Not for anyone.