Chapter 1: The Meeting and Collision of Liars
“Ugh…”
April 6th, Wednesday. Under a gentle spring sky that practically screamed “perfect weather,” I stifled yawn after yawn, trudging along a quiet, nearly deserted street.
It was just past eight in the morning. In a normal city, a place this silent at this hour might raise some red flags, but given the unique nature of this island, it didn’t take long to figure out it wasn’t all that strange.
Officially named Shikijima—better known as Academy Island.
A man-made island built hundreds of kilometers south-southeast of Tokyo Bay. Word is, it started as a small project by some conglomerate, touting the goal of “nurturing true elites.” The system they introduced ended up producing results that blew everyone’s expectations out of the water, churning out exceptional graduates left and right. Naturally, that drew a flood of new investors, and now it’s grown into a sprawling metropolis split into twenty districts.
As of today, the island’s population sits at about a million.
And apparently, nearly half of them are students—a scale that’s honestly hard for a newbie like me to wrap my head around.
“So, today’s the day before classes start. Just the opening ceremony this afternoon, which means it’s basically still spring break… No wonder there’s hardly anyone out this early.”
I let out a small sigh, recalling bits from the guidebook I’d skimmed.
Honestly, I should be passed out in bed right now, milking the last dregs of vacation. I’d finished all the transfer paperwork yesterday and planned to take it easy today. But thanks to nonstop rain from the day before last, the ferry to Academy Island was delayed again and again. I didn’t set foot here until ten last night, and by the time I cleared the entry screening, it was past midnight.
No way was I dragging myself to school at that hour, so I pushed everything back a day.
Still, as a freshly transferred student, I figured I should at least show my face at this afternoon’s ceremony. That meant knocking out my errands this morning. My destination? Eimei Academy, a private high school in Academy Island’s Fourth District.
Here’s the thing: I spent last night at a cheap inn in the same district since my housing paperwork isn’t finalized yet. I thought, It’s nearby, I’ll just wander and find it, no problem. Big mistake.
“…Yeah, I’m definitely lost.”
It was not just around the corner.
I mean, come on—this island isn’t even on Google Maps. They gave me this device during the entry screening, saying it’s “essential for Academy Island,” so maybe it’s got a map app or something. Problem is, I was so wiped from seasickness and sleep deprivation yesterday that I didn’t bother learning how to use it.
Getting lost at my age… Yeah, that’s depressing enough to make me wanna cry.
“—Hm?”
Just then, as I hung my head in defeat, a figure caught my eye. A girl, walking on the opposite side of the street. Judging by her uniform, she went to a different school than me.
Normally, I’d hesitate in a situation like this, but the cold hard fact that I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own—plus a weird burst of energy from finally spotting another person (an islander?)—pushed me forward. I dashed across the street and called out to her.
“Uh, excuse me!”
“? Oh, you mean me?”
She turned gracefully at my slightly breathless shout, tilting her head. …And just like that, I found myself choking on my own breath, struck dumb.
She was—there’s no other way to put it—a genuine beauty, almost unreal. A bit tall for a girl, with luxurious, straight red hair cascading down to her waist, exuding an air of refined elegance, like she belonged to high society. Her eyes, fixed on me, shimmered like flawless rubies, so clear and intense they felt like they could pull you in. They radiated both grace and unshakable strength.
Her features leaned more toward “striking” than “cute.” The kind of beauty that’d make anyone—guy or girl—stop and stare. Her slender frame could’ve belonged to a model, and her bare thighs, peeking out beneath her uniform skirt, carried a strangely captivating allure, even though the skirt itself wasn’t that short.
And then—
(Wait… have I seen her somewhere before? Maybe on the Academy Island website?)
For a split second, a flicker of familiarity tugged at me, and I frowned.…But thinking it through, that had to be it. A girl this striking? She could easily be some kind of island ambassador. Even a tiny photo in the corner of an article would’ve burned her into my memory.
“…Um, hello? What’s up? If you don’t need anything, I’m gonna go.”
“Oh, crap—uh, I mean, sorry! I do need something.”
Her skeptical glance snapped me out of my daze, and I scrambled to clear my head of distractions.
“So, uh… I just got to the island yesterday, and I kinda got lost. Do you know how to get to Eimei Academy in the Fourth District?”
“Oh, that’s what this is about. …Pfft, you don’t have to be so polite, you know. You’re a second-year, right? That makes us the same age.”
“Huh, really? Wait—hold on, how’d you know that?”
“There’s a function on the device for that. It only works on people ranked lower than you, but you can see basic info like their name or school. …You really don’t know anything, do you? They’re supposed to explain how to use the device first thing.”
“Uh… well, I heard the explanation, but I was feeling so rough—barely breathing, honestly—that it didn’t stick. Let’s just say I’m the type to skip tutorials.”
“Pfft, what’s that supposed to mean? So you’re dumping the job of explaining it on me? That’s rich. …Fine, whatever. Can you pull out your device?”
At her amused, elegant chuckle, I fished the device out of my pocket. The thing had been reduced to a glorified clock since I didn’t know how to turn it on—the “essential” Academy Island gadget. Then, out of nowhere, she grabbed my hand, guiding my finger to a small indent on the top of the screen. The cool touch of her skin froze my brain for a second.
And… beep. The device hummed to life, probably scanning my fingerprint or veins or something.
“—See? That’s how you use it. From here, it’s pretty much like a smartphone.”
“…”
I kept my face neutral, but inside, I was reeling. She went on, her tone kind and patient.
“Look, there’s a blue icon in the bottom right corner. That’s the map app. It’s got some quirks, but you can basically think of it as this island’s version of Gogle Maps.”
“Got it… If I’d known about this from the start, I wouldn’t have ended up lost.”
“Oh, please. That’s your fault for not listening to the explanation. Don’t go blaming me.”
“Ugh, that’s so true it hurts…”
I gave a wry smile, and the girl in front of me let out a soft giggle, caught up in the moment.
…Man, she’s really nice. I’m not saying I’m spinning some cheesy fantasy about her falling for me or anything, but just talking to her lifts my mood. It’s honestly kind of uplifting.
“—Alright, I should get going. I was in the middle of shopping. Take care, okay?”
“Oh, yeah.”
As I savored that tiny spark of happiness, she flashed a gentle smile and gave a quick wave. The gesture was so effortlessly cute that I almost called out to stop her—but I caught myself just in time, settling for a simple, “Thanks.”
And so, I parted ways with the girl whose name I never even got—or at least, that’s how it was supposed to go.
“…Huh?”
A sudden, loud noise snapped my attention to the street.
Given that nearly sixty percent of Academy Island’s population are students, there’s way less traffic here compared to the mainland. But it’s not completely dead—according to that guidebook, you’ll spot construction vehicles or work trucks rolling through almost daily.
And sure enough—it was a truck.
Up ahead, in the direction the red-haired girl was walking, a massive truck rumbled toward us. We were both safely on the sidewalk, but here’s the kicker: it’d been raining nonstop from the day before last, enough to delay my ferry by half a day. Naturally, the streets were still lined with puddles.
So, when a truck that size—straight out of an isekai crash scene—barreled past us, it didn’t take a genius to guess what’d happen next.
(Oh no…!)
Without thinking, I kicked my legs into gear, chasing after her. Reaching out, I grabbed her hand from behind with a quick yank, pulling her away from the splash zone as gently but firmly as I could.
“Wha—?”
But… long story short, it was completely unnecessary. The exact moment I grabbed her, she’d already started stepping to the right to dodge the splash herself. And since her weight was mid-shift, my tug threw her off balance.
—The result?
“Eek!?” “Whoa—!?”
Two startled yelps overlapped. A loud splash followed, then the carefree vroom of the truck’s engine faded into the distance, leaving only its echo.
I cracked my eyes open, dreading what I’d see—and froze at the scene before me.
“…”
There she was, the red-haired girl, pinned beneath me on the asphalt, my hand still gripping her wrist. She was soaked from head to toe, probably from the splash. Her long hair clung to her cheeks and neck, her skirt stuck to her thighs, and her white blouse—visible through the gaps in her blazer—was faintly see-through. To put it mildly, she was a mess.
“Uh… ah, uh…”
She stared up at me—literally inches away, no exaggeration—her mouth agape, her cheeks slowly flushing red. At first, she seemed too stunned to process it, but now embarrassment was clearly kicking in.
As for me?
(What… what do I do!? This is bad—I’ve gotta explain myself, fast!)
On the outside, I just stared blankly at her, but inside, my mind was a screaming mess.
Should I throw myself into a full-on apology bow? No, wait—I’ve heard apologizing too quickly can make you look guilty, like some kind of creep. That might backfire.
Maybe offer her my jacket, like a gentleman? Nope, that won’t work either. What’s she supposed to do with her soaked uniform? Say I’ll wash it for her? Yeah, that’d get me slapped.
So… what should I do—?
“—Hey! How long are you gonna keep staring!?”
“Gah!?”
Lost in my panic, I didn’t notice her face turn scarlet before she shoved me off with surprising force. …Yeah, okay, step one should’ve been backing off. I’m such an idiot.
“Hah… hah…”
As I wallowed in self-loathing, the girl hugged herself tightly, breathing heavily. A few seconds later, the calm kindness she’d shown earlier vanished. Her ruby-red eyes pierced me with a glare sharp enough to cut.
“…Tell me. Was that an accident? Or did you plan this?”
“Huh? Plan? No way, it was totally an accident!”
“Totally? …I’m not so sure. You don’t seem rattled at all. Now that I think about it, something’s been off from the start. You didn’t know how to use the device—something everyone knows. You’re a Fourth District student, yet you’re wandering around the Third District. And that truck? It’s not one used for Fourth District construction. If I assume you’re in on it, everything adds up.”
“—What!?”
She muttered, pressing a wet hand to her lips. …Honestly, I had no clue about the truck’s district or whatever. But… crap, it sounded like she’d already pieced together some kind of airtight theory in her head!
“No, hold on, that’s not—!”
“Don’t bother with excuses, I’m not listening. You probably thought you could humiliate me, assault me, or worse—force yourself on me. Well, that’s not happening.nListen up. If you want a fight, I’ll give you one—a Challenge, right here, right now. You’re an Academy Island student, so face me fair and square…!”
She was beyond reasoning, practically spitting fire as she laid into me. One unfamiliar word in her rant caught my ear, and—despite feeling a bit intimidated—I quietly sifted through my memory.
A Challenge is one of the unique systems that makes Academy Island an “elite training ground.” To explain it, though, I need to touch on something else first.
—On Academy Island, there are Stars.
Call them grades, absolute rankings, visible social status, or a caste system—everyone sees them differently. In essence, they’re like a “title.” Every high school student on the island—roughly 150,000 of them—is ranked from One Star to Seven Stars, with benefits tied to their Star count.
That’s right—Academy Island openly embraces discrimination by Stars. Take any shop here: some are off-limits based on your rank. Public transport prioritizes higher-Star students. Even the monthly allowance of island currency depends on your Stars.
In short, a single Star can drastically change your quality of life. That’s the rough gist of what Stars mean on Academy Island (per the Shikijima Guidebook).
And that’s exactly why students here obsess over them. More than looks, brains, or talent, your Star count defines your worth. Gain a Star, and you rub shoulders with the elite. Lose one, and you’re stuck on the same level as the people you used to look down on.
It’s a brutal system, designed to forcibly foster competition, hierarchy, and ambition.
The world’s still divided on whether it’s good or bad, but there’s no denying it’s the backbone of why Academy Island produces so many exceptional graduates.
There are three main ways to earn Stars:
One: They’re awarded by your school based on grades or performance at enrollment or promotion.
Two: You can win them as rewards in large-scale events held irregularly.
And three—the most common, accessible, and frequent method—a Challenge.
A game where students face off to steal each other’s Stars.
Since Stars are so valuable, Challenges carry equal weight.
(And if she’s specifically telling me to settle this with a Challenge, she must be pretty damn confident. Like, she doesn’t even think losing is an option.)
I let out a quiet sigh as the realization hit. If that’s the case, a transfer student like me doesn’t stand a chance. I barely know the basics of a Challenge, let alone how to actually pull one off. It’s a losing battle—but…
“…Hey. If we do this Challenge, will you at least hear me out afterward?”
“Hm? Hear you out? …What, you think you’ve got some clever excuse up your sleeve? Fine, whatever. I might not believe you, but I’ll listen as much as you want.”
“Alright, that’s good enough for me.”
As long as she kept that promise, I didn’t care about winning or losing.
Go ahead and beat me to a pulp if it makes you feel better—with that resigned mindset, I decided to accept her terms.
—According to her, only the lower-ranked student can initiate a Challenge.
I’d just learned how to turn on my device minutes ago, but figuring out how to issue a Challenge was easy. The icon was plastered right in the center of the home screen, impossible to miss.
Tapping it and selecting the Challenge option, the screen displayed: “Searching for nearby devices…” A few seconds later, it pinged—one device found.
Rank: unknown.
Owner: unknown.
Apparently, you can’t see details for someone higher-ranked than you, so everything came up as “unknown.” But based on the coordinates, it had to be hers.
“Application sent.”
Following the prompts, I navigated the menus and successfully submitted the Challenge to her.
“—Okay, I’ve accepted it. Now, as for the actual terms…” She trailed off, staring at her device.
After a moment, she looked up, glaring at me with suspicion. Her lips twitched irritably, and she forced them to move, her voice laced with frustration.
“Let’s get one thing straight—normally, the challenger sets the terms of a Challenge. If the higher-ranked acceptor got to decide everything, it’d be unfair, so the challenger gets that advantage. But… pfft, you’ve got some nerve.”
“…Uh?”
“What, still playing innocent? Look at this—the Challenge application you sent? The terms section is blank. That’s basically saying, ‘I can beat you at anything, so you pick.’ …You know, it’s been a while since someone’s provoked me this much.”
“!?”
(No, no, no! I just clicked through too fast, and it submitted by accident!)
On the outside, I froze, but inside, I was screaming excuses. She, however, was fully convinced I’d left it blank to taunt her, glaring at me like I was her sworn enemy. Saying “Oops, my bad” now would probably just make things worse.
So… screw it, might as well roll with it.
“If that’s what you wanna think, fine by me. So? What’s the Challenge gonna be?”
“You… you’re mocking me!” she snapped, tearing her gaze away with a scowl.
Apparently, Challenges on Academy Island can be pretty much anything. The device’s monitoring system filters out anything “unfair” or “dangerous,” but beyond that, the sky’s the limit.
That’s why most Challenges are tailored with custom rules to give the challenger an edge.
—About three minutes later, she revealed her choice, and sure enough, it was exactly that kind of game.
“Turn-Based Staring Contest: Enhanced Edition…?”
“Exactly. …Here’s how it works. As the name suggests, it’s an upgraded version of a staring contest. In a regular one, you lose if you laugh. In this, you lose if your expression changes—joy, anger, sadness, anything. If your face shows any emotion, you’re out. The device has a sensor that tracks expressions, and if the meter goes past a certain threshold, you lose.”
“Oh… got it. So what’s the ‘turn-based’ part mean?”
“Just what it sounds like. You and I take turns being the ‘active player.’ Say it’s your turn—you can make any face you want without losing. The goal’s to break my expression, like in a staring contest—goofy faces, whatever works. …Basically, you’re the ‘attacker.’ We swap every minute.”
“…Huh.”
Despite her obvious irritation, it’s kind of a cute—no, interesting—setup. A turn-based staring contest (enhanced edition). When it’s your turn, you can laugh, cry, whatever, as long as you make your opponent’s face crack first.
“Alright, let’s get this Challenge started.”
“Wait… you sure? From what I can tell, you haven’t even registered an Ability.”
“…Ability?”
Another term I didn’t know.
Part of me figured I should ask, but with the street starting to fill with more passersby, I was rapidly losing interest in anything other than ‘let’s wrap this up quick.’ If I’m gonna end up groveling, I’d rather do it with a smaller audience.
So, I shook my head.
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll manage without. Probably.”
“!? Manage!?”
The red-haired girl’s reaction was instant and over-the-top, cutting me off before I’d even finished. Her hands trembled with fury, and her ruby eyes bored into me like daggers.
“Oh, really? Abilities—apps for Challenges that are considered a handicap even if you limit yourself to one—and you’re saying you don’t need any to beat me with ease? Wow…”
(…Oh crap, I messed up.)
“Heh… heh heh… Fine. Fine. Let’s get this game started, just like you want. I’m gonna make you regret underestimating me—!”
With a dramatic flourish, she thrust her hand up, and a sharp beep sounded as her device’s screen switched. A blunt message flashed: “Challenge initiated.” The display expanded, projecting behind us like a hologram. It showed face icons for both players, a timer for turns, an expression meter, and other stats.
“Whoa… I’d heard rumors, but seeing it in action? This is wild.”
I couldn’t help but let out an awed murmur at the digital-game-like setup. No wonder Academy Island’s tech is said to be light-years ahead of the mainland. I wanted to soak it all in, but sadly, this wasn’t the time.
According to the projection, I was going first.
“Here we go—your turn starts the game,” she said calmly, her face perfectly neutral. “The active player switches every minute without warning, so watch your timing.”
She spoke softly, exuding confidence. Choosing a game like this? She’s gotta be a pro at keeping her emotions in check. I’m not half-bad at that myself, but just stonewalling each other won’t end this anytime soon.
As I mulled that over, a few meters away, she suddenly spoke up.
“Not that you’ll get a full minute on my turn. …Number Control: Lv7, activate! Restrict their turn to one-tenth!”
“What the—?”
The moment she declared it, her red hair swaying, the projected display shifted. Above our face icons, the “remaining time” ticked down. Hers stayed at a full minute, but mine? Slashed to six seconds. …Six seconds!?
“Okay, that’s gotta be cheating!”
“…Cheating? Hardly. It’s the most basic, universal Ability out there. …Though for some reason, you didn’t bother setting one.”
“…”
I didn’t choose not to—I couldn’t. But I bit my tongue, staying silent.
A faint click signaled the turn switching from me to her. Naturally, she got the full minute, not some pathetic six seconds. Talk about unfair.
Still… like I said, controlling my emotions isn’t exactly my weak spot.
If this drags out, who knows what’ll happen, but I can handle the first few turns—
“Heh, too easy! Creation: Ex, activate!!”
—Or not.
What unfolded next was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. Her device hummed, vibrating softly as it stretched and reshaped itself. In seconds, it wasn’t a smartphone anymore—it was a sleek, thin sword.
“W-What… what is that? What’s going on?”
“It’s an Ability, duh. You pre-register patterns to transform the device. This one’s pretty rare, so I’m not surprised you don’t know it. …But, heh, you sure you don’t wanna run?”
“…Run?”
“Yup. I mean, it’s obvious, right? I made a weapon—so this happens!”
Before I could blink, she gripped the sword with both hands, a sly grin spreading as she charged at me. For a split second, I wondered why—then it clicked. The game’s about breaking your opponent’s expression, so it doesn’t matter if it’s fear, shock, or anything else. That sword probably can’t kill (I hope), but its razor-sharp look alone was enough to rattle anyone’s cool.
Plus—dodging her swing by a hair’s breadth, my mind raced—the device’s expression sensor is probably crazy precise. Even something as small as “panting too hard” might tip the meter and cost me the game. That means the only time I can safely catch my breath is during my measly six-second turn.
(What kind of game is this, damn it!? She’s gotta be some kind of genius!)
The realization hit me way too late, but it’s not like I could do anything about it.
This red-haired girl I accidentally pissed off? She’s sharp as hell, way more experienced at Challenges than me—and probably a big deal around here. Proof? The growing crowd of onlookers stopping to gawk. Some even cheered her on with admiration, making me—the “villain” in this scene—feel like I was under siege.
…Yeah, I should just lose quickly.
I’ll keep up appearances a bit longer so she doesn’t think I’m half-assing it, but if this crowd keeps swelling, I’m just gonna end up a public laughingstock—
(…Wait, what?)
A sudden shift snapped me out of my thoughts.
Her attacks—they stopped. With nearly twenty seconds left in her turn, she backed off, lowering her head slightly. Her ruby eyes darted around nervously, almost like she was… scared? Time ticked by with nothing happening, and the turn flipped back to me.
If that was just her catching her breath, fine—but the weirdness didn’t stop there.
“Nn… ngh…”
Her face stayed calm, but she started squirming, letting out faint, breathy sounds. …Something was definitely off. She was trying to hide it, but her ears, peeking through her wet hair, were bright red.
“—Hmph… Next! My turn!”
Thanks to Number Control, my turn ended in a flash, but I wasn’t sweating it this time. Her movements were visibly slower. She wasn’t even swinging that sword anymore—instead, her right hand hovered near her chest, like she was shielding herself—
(Oh… wait, I get it.)
It clicked, and I jerked my head up.
She’s self-conscious—about her clothes. She’s worried they’re still see-through. At first, it was just me, so she could channel her anger into starting this Challenge. But now, with a crowd forming, embarrassment’s hitting her hard, just delayed.
Realistically, the splash happened a while ago—nobody could tell if her clothes were transparent now. But they’re still soaked. To her, they probably feel like a clingy, soggy mess, and with all these eyes on her, it’s no wonder she’s freaking out.
“…”
With each passing turn, the crowd of onlookers grew. And with it, her embarrassment seemed to skyrocket.
Before long, she stopped acting entirely during her turns. She held her sword, sure, but it was more like she was using it to hide her upper body. I could even catch her nervously rubbing her thighs together now and then. The crowd started murmuring in confusion, but unless they’d seen the whole splash incident, they’d never guess why.
…Then, right after her fourth turn ended—
Still trembling, head bowed, she suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. With a desperate cry, she stabbed her sword into the ground and crouched behind it, her face flaming red.
“—Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!!”
Her anguished scream echoed through the street.
No matter how you looked at it, her expression was anything but neutral—and it was more than enough to max out the device’s expression sensor.
“Beep. Expression change detected: Sarasa Saionji.
Challenge end condition: met.
Ownership of a Star will now transfer from Sarasa Saionji to Hiroto Shinohara.”
The cold, robotic voice blared from both our devices, signaling the end of the short yet intense Challenge. …Sarasa Saionji. That’s her name, huh? It sounded vaguely familiar, like I’d heard the surname before—but that wasn’t the issue right now.
(I won… Oh man, is she gonna hate me even more now? Why’d I have to win!? I’m such an idiot. I mean, it was basically her self-destructing, but still—this is bad…)
My thoughts were a jumbled mess, overwhelmed by the shock.
Honestly, winning this Challenge was the last thing I’d expected. So much for my original plan: let her beat me to cool off, then apologize properly. Now? It felt like I’d just dug myself into an even deeper hole.
And then, as I wrestled with that realization—
The eerily silent crowd suddenly erupted.
“—What!?”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on!?”
“No way! Sarasa lost!?”
“Tch, that’s impossible! …No, I can’t accept this! Sarasa-sama losing to that guy!?”
“I mean… you can’t deny it, she did lose. I can’t believe it either…”
“Holy crap! The Empress, defeated on the first day of the new term!? Who could’ve seen this coming!? And who is that guy!? Some secret weapon from the Fourth District!?”
“…Huh?”
I couldn’t keep up with the crowd’s energy rocketing from zero to a hundred, and I tilted my head in confusion. Piecing together the snippets I caught, it sounded like she was some kind of famous high-ranker. But was that really enough to cause this much of a frenzy?
(This is getting out of hand. If it blows up any more, there’s no fixing it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding and a fluke—maybe I can explain and get the match voided or something.)
With a small nod to myself, I stepped toward the girl, still crouched on the ground.
“—!”
The moment I moved, she snapped her head up, her face pale as death. The embarrassment from before was gone, replaced by a piercing glare. Her expression was a raw mix of regret, anger, and self-loathing, her lips trembling as a single tear slid down her cheek.
What it meant, why she looked like that—I couldn’t even guess. We’d only just met. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t the face of someone who’d merely lost a single Star. There was something deeper, something I couldn’t begin to understand.
“—Back off.”
After staring at me like she wanted to say something, she spat the words curtly and stood. Then, with ghostly steps, she turned and walked away.
(What do I do…!? Seriously, what do I do!? This is bad—like, really bad!)
I knew I was definitely at fault here, but beyond that, I was clueless. What just happened? What was the problem? Why was she crying? My confusion and panic hit fever pitch, and my brain just… stopped. Someone, please, explain this to me…!
—And then.
It’s not like anyone read my mind, but right at that moment, a sleek black car pulled up and stopped dead in front of me. An elderly man in a tuxedo stepped out, offering a warm smile.
He placed a hand over his chest, bowed deeply, and spoke in a gravelly yet friendly voice.
“—Hiroto Shinohara-sama, I presume. The Headmaster is expecting you. Please, this way.”
#
About ten minutes later, I was riding in the butler-like man’s car. My destination? A school, obviously.
Eimei Academy—a massive institution in Academy Island’s Fourth District, housing nearly twenty thousand students from elementary to university levels. According to the guidebook, it’s always ranked near the top among the island’s schools, known for its “relatively relaxed vibe paired with an obsession for Challenges—a true elite breeding ground.”
And now, I was in the heart of it all: the Headmaster’s office.
Led here like a lamb, I was told to sit on an almost sinfully plush sofa. Across from me, a striking woman let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Honestly… honestly. You’ve gone and caused quite the mess on your first day, haven’t you?”
“…Uh.”
I raised my head slowly at her words, laced with disbelief. She didn’t look happy—not by a long shot—but ignoring her wasn’t an option either.
Natsume Ichinose, Headmaster of Eimei Academy and overseer of the Fourth District.
The woman flipping through a stack of documents in front of me could be summed up in one phrase: a grown woman. A stunning beauty with sleek black hair, she wore a sharp office suit like a second skin. Her tight skirt was daringly short, yet she crossed her legs with bold confidence, exuding a mix of cool authority and sultry allure.
But her looks and charm weren’t what defined her first impression.
It was something else… something feral. Predatory, maybe, with a sadistic edge. If you split humanity into hunters and prey, she’d be at the top of the food chain, no question.
This wasn’t my first time meeting Headmaster Ichinose, though. In fact—funny story—she’s the one who scouted me from my old mainland school last month and invited me to Academy Island. Since then, we’d crossed paths a few times for things like transfer exams and entry permits.
In other words, she was the first person I was supposed to visit today—and, in a place where I knew no one, the only person I could rely on.
“—Ahem. By ‘mess,’ you mean the Challenge from earlier?”
“Exactly. So, let’s hear it—what’s your side of the story? Why’d you do it?”
“Look, it wasn’t planned or anything—it just happened. I mean… what’s the big deal, anyway? Aren’t Challenges supposed to be an everyday thing here?”
“Sure, for a normal Challenge. But this time, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
She said it with a theatrical pause, the corner of her mouth curling into a faint smirk.
“Listen up, because this is important—you just broke a major taboo. And not some small one, either. This could shake the entire island.”
“What? No way—”
“Oh, yes way. Here, read this.”
With a swift flick, she slid a single sheet of paper across the glass table toward me. I tilted my head, puzzled, and glanced at it—then froze.
In an instant, cold sweat poured down my body.
“Uh… Headmaster, is this for real?”
“As real as it gets. Dead serious. —Let’s break it down. This morning, on your way to the academy, you got lost. You met a girl, got completely smitten by her charm, and—under the guise of an ‘accident’—pulled some borderline harassment. Then you forced her into a Challenge and, somehow, won. …That’s what you said, right?”
“I feel like you’re slipping some malicious edits in there, but… yeah, that’s the gist.”
“If the outcome’s the same, the details don’t matter. —Now, like I said, that alone isn’t a problem. In fact, stealing a Star from another district’s student is something I’d normally applaud. But… this time, your opponent was a bit too special.”
Her voice carried a bitter edge. I tuned it out, my eyes dropping back to the document.
Pasted alongside a photo of the girl I’d just faced in a Challenge was a profile so jaw-dropping I couldn’t help but gape.
“Second-year student at Sakura Academy, Third District. Scored the highest in history on the entrance exam. Last year, as a mere first-year, she reigned as the island’s only Seven Stars, earning the title Empress out of awe and respect. Undefeated since enrollment, she’s torn through every opponent with a perfect record—a literal absolute champion. That’s Sarasa Saionji.”
“…”
“And that’s not even the half of it, which is what makes this such a headache. …Seriously, didn’t her last name ring any bells? The Saionji family founded Academy Island. Her grandfather, Masamune Saionji, is the current overseer of the entire island—and head of the globally renowned Saionji Group. In other words, that princess is the VIP of all VIPs here.”
“I… I beat someone like that?”
“You did. And that’s where the real problem starts. Masamune Saionji, the island’s overseer, is notoriously strict. He’s got pride in spades—for better or worse—and he’ll do anything to protect his reputation.”
“…?”
“Still not getting it? …Alright, let’s be real—you know you’re a nobody. Your transfer exam? If I hadn’t pulled some strings, you wouldn’t have even passed. You’re a pure, unfiltered One Star, so pathetic it’s almost sad. And yet, that nobody—that extra!—publicly humiliated the Saionji heiress, made her cry, and stole her Star! …Haha, if we reported this as-is, it’d be a disaster. Masamune would lose it, no question.”
“W-What…?”
Ichinose let out a gleeful chuckle, casually recrossing her legs. Meanwhile, I was frozen, barely able to stammer a response. …Seriously? It’s that bad?
“So… am I, like, getting expelled right off the bat?”
“Expelled? Oh, no way.”
“Oh, phew. That’s a relief—”
“? …Hold on, you think this is time to relax? I’m saying expulsion’s the least of your worries. …What, you got a masochistic streak or something?”
Her words hit like a sledgehammer.
I stood there, dumbfounded, as she sighed and pressed on, leaving me in the dust.
“Look, Masamune’s got no shortage of dark rumors swirling around him. I’ve been on this island a while, and I’ve seen plenty of colleagues crash and burn for crossing him. …So, yeah, if things keep going like this, you’re probably looking at a one-way ticket off the ‘normal life’ train.”
“W—What!? Hold on, what’s that supposed to mean!?”
“What’s it mean? It’s simple logic. If word gets out that the Saionji family blacklisted you and got you banished from the island, who’s gonna take you in? It’s social annihilation—a total game over. Bad end, roll credits.”
“!? T-That’s… I mean, Headmaster, aren’t you treating this a bit too lightly!?”
“I won’t deny it.”
“At least act like you feel bad!”
“Pfft… Easy, easy, no need to panic just yet. Right now, the Council’s debating what to do with you. …Oh, the Council? It’s like a parliament of district heads, based in District Zero’s administrative hub. Unless Masamune Saionji himself—our ceremonial chairman—steps in, they’re the island’s highest authority. In other words, if we can keep them quiet, we can push through just about any crazy plan—so for now, leave it to me.”
With a smirk, she stood and glided gracefully to a desk by the wall. A desktop PC sat there, its screen alive with multiple video chat windows—probably a web conference.
She shot me a playful gesture, pressing a finger to her lips, before flipping on the mic.
“—Sorry for the wait. Fourth District here.”
“Late. Far too late. What’s the culprit up to?”
“Honestly. Trouble this early in the term? I knew it’d be you.”
“Just give us the details. All we’ve got are vague rumors that someone took down the Empress.”
“Figures. The student in question’s a transfer, not even fully registered yet. You could scour the island’s database and still come up empty.”
“A transfer? …Right, you scouted someone from the mainland, didn’t you?”
“So who is it? Stop stalling and spill.”
“You know upsetting the chairman benefits no one…”
“I get it, I get it. No need to rush—I’ll explain. —Here’s the deal: the student at the center of this is Hiroto Shinohara. I won’t bore you with the full story, but he’s definitely the one who beat Sarasa Saionji in a Challenge.”
“So the rumors are true…”
“Fresh off the boat, so he’s low-ranked, right? The Saionji heir losing to some nobody is a huge problem.”
“Word of the Empress’s fall is already spreading… We need to decide on a response, and soon.”
“Fair enough. But—here’s some good news for you all.”
With a bold grin, Ichinose suddenly reached out and covered the PC’s webcam with her finger. She muted the mic, cutting off the Council entirely, and turned to me with that same predatory smile.
“Hey, Shinohara. I’m giving you two options.”
“…Options?”
“Yup. Both are solid enough to smooth things over here, and right now, you can pick either path. But fair warning—the choice you make could shape your entire future. I’m giving you the right to decide… and the responsibility that comes with it.”
“G-Got it. Lay it on me.”
“Good answer. —Option one: you take the fall for everything.”
“…What? I thought we were talking about ways to avoid that…”
“Oh, we are. It’s about how you take it. Let’s say… we spin a story that you’re tied to some shady group in the Eighth District. Hiroto Shinohara used illegal Abilities siphoned from them to beat Sarasa Saionji. Cheating, plain and simple. You’d face a disciplinary investigation, and the Challenge would be voided.”
“…”
“I know it sounds harsh, but of the ‘sane’ options, this does the least damage. You’d only be guilty of ‘breaking the rules.’ Public opinion would shift to ‘the Empress lost because her opponent played dirty,’ preserving the Saionji family’s honor. …Though, yeah, you’d probably still get kicked off the island.”
“Ugh… Okay, what’s option two?”
“We make you a Seven Stars.”
“—What?”
Her bombshell proposal was so out of left field I let out a dumb squeak.
“Make me… a Seven Stars? I don’t get it. At all.”
“Hm. You were listening to the meeting, right? Boil this mess down, and it’s bad because ‘the Saionji family’s reputation might take a hit.’ The real issue—sorry to say—is that you’re a nobody. If Sarasa had lost to someone worthy, even Masamune wouldn’t have a reason to throw a fit. So, we flip it—you become her equal.”
“W-Wait. I hear you, but… is that even possible? Seven Stars is the ultimate rank, right? One person on the whole island. Wouldn’t everyone lose it if we just made one out of nowhere?”
“Not at all. …Actually, you’re missing something.”
I scrambled to argue, but she grinned wider, leaning in.
“Academy Island’s Star system is ironclad. Even the Council can’t meddle with it—it’s built to block any violations. Normally, you’d be locked in as a One Star forever, set by your transfer exam. No shortcuts, no hacks. If you want more Stars, you’ve gotta win Challenges the hard way.”
“…? So… doesn’t that mean I can’t become a Seven Stars?”
“Normally—I said that for a reason. This is a rare case. —Listen: you just beat Sarasa Saionji in a Challenge. And when you did, you took one of her Stars, right?”
“Oh… yeah.”
She was right. In Academy Island’s Challenges, the winner claims the loser’s Star.
At her nudge, I pulled up the “profile” page on my device. It listed the basics: name, age, gender, school affiliation, and my rank—One Star. Since I hadn’t finalized my transfer before the Challenge, I was probably listed as “no Stars” during the application. —But then…
“…Huh? Wait, is this Star… glitched or something?”
I showed her the screen, my voice tinged with confusion. The Star I’d taken from Sarasa Saionji was glowing—red, like the ruby shine of her eyes. It was beautiful, but not exactly a color you’d expect for a Star.
Ichinose shook her head, her grin unshaken.
“No glitch. That’s no ordinary Star. Out of countless regular ones, only a handful exist on the island—Colored Stars, or Unique Stars.”
“Unique Star…?”
“Think of it as a ‘slightly special Star.’ Counts the same as a regular one, but comes with some exclusive perks. …We’ll skip the details for now. What matters isn’t the general traits of Colored Stars—it’s the specific power of the Red Star. —Quick, what’s the first thing you think of when you hear ‘red’?”
“Red? Uh… tomato ketchup.”
“Thanks for the adorably random answer, but no. —The Red Star’s power? It lets you tell one lie. You know how they say lies are ‘red as blood’?”
“…A lie?”
I echoed her, stunned. She recrossed her legs, the tight skirt shifting as she continued.
“Yup. More precisely, it’s the power to make a lie true in the system’s data. I told you the Star system is untouchable, right? But a Red Star holder can alter one piece of data. For example… I could make your height 185 cm. In the system, at least.”
“I’m not sure why you’re acting like I’m insecure about my height… So, you’re saying we use this to…?”
“Exactly—tell a lie. We rewrite your data, which should only say One Star, to claim you’re a Seven Stars. Nobody can check someone’s rank without accessing their device or the system itself. If the data says you’re a Seven Stars, that’s what everyone will see.”
“…B-But…”
The scope of this was spiraling, and I scrambled for some kind of counterargument.
“Look, a transfer student like me suddenly being a Seven Stars? People are gonna smell something fishy right away. They’ll figure out I’m using the Red Star to lie in no time.”
“Not a chance. Sure, word’ll spread fast that you’ve got the Red Star, but hardly anyone knows what it actually does. They won’t trace it back to your lie.”
“Really?”
“Yup. The Red Star was locked away by the Saionji family for ages until Sarasa claimed it. And because of its lie-making power, neither owners nor ex-owners ever spill the details. Why would they? Admitting it means outing their own lies.”
“That… makes sense. Wait—then how do you know about it?”
“Obviously because I’m a former owner. Way back in my student days, mind you.”
“…”
Ichinose’s sly grin silenced me for good this time. The Red Star—a liar’s tool that can fool Academy Island’s system. Using its power, we’d make it look like I’m on par with Sarasa—a Seven Stars.
“So… a fake Seven Stars, huh?”
“Exactly. No matter how deep anyone digs, the data’ll only show Seven Stars, so the Council will have to shut up and accept it. Once they do, it’s fact on this island. The Saionji family probably knows about the Red Star’s power, but your ‘lie’ works in their favor too. As long as you don’t screw up, they’ve got no reason to interfere. Picture this: a prodigy transfer who aced the entrance exam, crowned the fastest Seven Stars in history. Sounds like a worthy rival for the Empress, don’t you think?”
Her probing gaze locked onto mine, and I fell silent, lost in thought.
…Two options. Like she said, this was a massive fork in the road.
Pick the first, and maybe I could smooth everything over quietly. But it’d mean getting banished from Academy Island for good—cutting all ties forever.
The second? Pure chaos.
Academy Island’s got over 200,000 high schoolers in the Star-hunting game. A fraud sitting at the top? You don’t need to think hard to see the risks. I’d be the most visible, the most envied, and the most challenged student here. I’d have to act like it’s only natural, strutting around with total confidence.
And defeat? Not even once. One loss, and the Red Star’s gone—my lie exposed. If that happens, the fallout would be way worse than if I’d just stayed quiet.
…But.
“Even so—even in a situation like that, you’ve got a goal, don’t you? That’s why you came here, right? You’re free to choose, of course. But if you back out now, you’ll never see her again.”
“…So I’ve been played, huh?”
“Nah, I didn’t plan this far ahead. I’m just a cunning woman, is all. Lies, accidents, whatever—I use what’s in front of me.”
She kept that smirk, half-joking as she spoke, but she wasn’t messing around. Every word she said made sense.
She’s right… I do have a purpose. A reason I ditched a normal high school life to come to this island. Someone I have to meet. Getting kicked out before I can even try? That’s the worst kind of bad ending.
(It kinda pisses me off that I’m dancing in her palm like this…)
But whatever. It doesn’t matter. She’s got her goals, I’ve got mine. If she’s using me, I’ll use her—and this whole situation—right back. For now, staying on the island seems to benefit her too. So I’ll play it smart, milk every advantage I can.
—Good thing I’m a damn good actor.
If it means enjoying a peaceful school life till the end, I’ll fool every single person on this island.
“…”
I took a deep breath and faced the scheming Headmaster, who sat with her legs crossed and a smug grin, clearly enjoying herself. Then, I gave it everything I had.
“Fine—I’ll do it! I’ll become the strongest!!”
#
“Hahahahaha! Y-You’re incredible, absolutely incredible!”
“…”
The opening ceremony had packed the First District’s event hall to the brim. Now, with it over and the venue clearing out, I bolted like my life depended on it.
Having become the “talk of the town,” I was hightailing it toward the Fourth District, talking to Headmaster Ichinose through my device. …If you can call it talking. She was just cackling, completely ignoring me.
“Hah… oh man, you were perfect! I never dreamed you’d go that big!”
“Not sure if that’s a compliment or a dig…”
“A compliment! I’m cheering from the bottom of my heart! Sure, I pitched making you a Seven Stars, and I strong-armed the Council into agreeing, but to build that persona in just a few hours? That’s something else!”
“Thanks… I guess? Did I really say anything that wild? It felt pretty standard—”
“‘If you’ve got a problem, come at me anytime. Just know—you’ll get crushed into the dirt if you try (smirk).’ …Pfft, heh!”
“You are mocking me, aren’t you!?”
I instinctively clutched the device, lowering my voice to keep it from leaking out.
Here’s the thing—unlike Ichinose, who was having the time of her life, I couldn’t afford to let my expression slip. I was in the heart of the First District, right after the ceremony. The streets were packed, and naturally, eyes were on me from every angle.
“Hey, isn’t that…?”
“Whoa, it’s that guy. What’s his name? Shinohara… Hero?”
“That’d make him painfully lame. Hiroto, I think.”
“He’s the one who beat the Empress—Bloodred Saionji, right?”
“Yeah. Heard he tormented her till she screamed ‘I can’t take it!’”
“What!? That’s brutal! Scary!”
The crowd’s chatter battered my ears. …With this much attention, I couldn’t afford to slip up—not my face, not my vibe. The island’s strongest has to stay cool. Probably.
“Pfft—no, no, I’m not mocking you. Honest.”
As I steeled myself again, Ichinose tossed me a half-laughing reply.
“I scouted you to this academy because I saw that in you, didn’t I? No reason to poke fun. If anything, you’re exceeding expectations.”
“…Maybe so.”
I grumbled but nodded along.
The “that” she mentioned? It’s the one thing I’ve got going for me, despite having no other standout talents. I can completely separate my inner emotions from my outward expression. No matter how freaked out I am inside, I can look calm as a cucumber. I can smile through sadness or cry on cue with a blank mind.
Ichinose calls it being a “mental con artist,” but that’s the gist.
“—Not that I ever thought it’d come in handy like this.”
“Tell me about it. I recruited you thinking it’d be fun to find a use for it, but I didn’t expect you to make this much noise on day one.”
“No kidding.”
If she’d predicted this back when she scouted me, she’d either be a prophet or a mastermind.
“So… what’s up? Something urgent?”
“Oh, right, sorry! Got so hyped I totally forgot—ahem. It’s just routine admin stuff. After sending you to the ceremony, I kept tweaking some details, and a few things got finalized. Wanted to loop you in ASAP, but… hm, maybe talking out there’s a bit risky. Let’s regroup when you’re back at the dorm.”
“Got it. …Speaking of, where am I even staying? I was supposed to handle moving stuff today.”
“No worries, I’ve got you covered. The dorm’s all set. I sent the coordinates to your device—just plug ’em into the map.”
With a quick “Catch you later,” she hung up.
“Phew…”
Letting out a small breath, I reached for the screen to follow her instructions. But before I could open the map app, a notification popped up at the top. It was from something called “STOC”—the island’s SNS, apparently—delivering breaking news.
Normally, I’d ignore it… but this time, my eyes locked onto it instantly.
(!? This is blowing up way too much…!)
—Yeah, exactly.
The “breaking news” on my device was a special report tying together this morning’s Challenge and my speech earlier. A screaming headline—“Invincible Empress Finally Falls!?”—dominated the page in huge font. The article went on, hyping up Sarasa Saionji’s defeat and the rise of a new Seven Stars with all the drama of a tabloid.
Curious, I clicked a link to STOC’s trending posts. The past hour’s data? Almost entirely “Sarasa Saionji / Empress / Seven Stars / Shinohara Something-or-Other.” The whole timeline was flooded with it… and I quietly closed the app.
(She really was a big deal, huh… Not just her family, but everything else too.)
If she was just some rich girl, the students wouldn’t be this worked up. Sarasa Saionji was special—that’s why this whole thing’s turned into such a circus.
…Come to think of it, I still haven’t properly apologized to her.
Reaching out now seems tricky, but I’ve gotta find a way soon—
“…Huh?”
The second I turned a corner—when the crowd’s eyes vanished for a moment, when my guard slipped just a fraction.
In that perfect instant, someone grabbed my arm, yanking me hard into an alley.
#
Thud—my back slammed against a solid wall.
At the same time, they planted their hands on either side of me, leaning in close, practically pinning me. Heavy, ragged breaths. A faint, sweet citrus scent tickling my nose.
“Heh… heh heh… That was quite the grand speech you gave earlier, wasn’t it?”
Right in front of me, lips twitching, was none other than her—the red-haired girl.
Sarasa Saionji. Former Seven Stars, the undefeated Empress.
I’d been wondering how to reach her again, so her coming to me was a relief… but her expression? It was even sharper than a few hours ago, radiating pure fury.
“…”
I froze, words failing me. …What’s got her this pissed? The “grand speech” bit probably means my ceremony stunt, but that should’ve worked in her favor. Better to be “toppled by a new king” than “beaten by a One Star nobody,” right? It’d save her pride.
“…Oh, I see. So you’re playing innocent, huh?”
Sarasa’s expression didn’t lighten one bit. If anything, it grew darker by the second. I noticed her legs trembling slightly, her voice starting to carry an obvious bravado—and that’s when it hit me.
The emotion flickering in her ruby eyes wasn’t anger. It was fear.
“Hey, what’s your deal? You’ve got dirt on me, you made that big show at the ceremony, and yet you haven’t spilled my secret to anyone. …What’s that about? You waiting to grab even more attention before crushing me completely? Please, just… stop it! I’m begging you!!”
(…Secret? What’s she talking about?)
“I know, okay? I know I’m just making excuses. But I’ve got my own reasons—reasons I have to keep this lie going. …So please, don’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything you want, just… don’t say it…!”
“…Uh, hold on. What are you even talking about?”
“—You’re still playing dumb!? I’m begging you for real here—don’t mess with me!”
My genuine confusion only made her snap harder, squeezing her eyes shut. She reached out, grabbing my chest with both hands, practically clinging to me as she said—
“You know, don’t you—that I’m not really Sarasa Saionji!!”
“…………Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me! I cleared everyone out, so there’s no need to fake it anymore! Yes, fine, you’re right—I’m not Sarasa. I’m Rina Akabane, posing as her for the past year at this academy. I’ve been winning Challenges non-stop, knowing one loss would blow my cover, and I was supposed to keep that up… until you beat me this morning.”
“…”
“So that’s why I’m asking—what are you planning to do with that info? It’s the ultimate scandal for ‘Sarasa Saionji.’ Everyone thinks I’m the Saionji heiress, but I’m not some fancy noble or anything. …Heh, feels like betrayal, right? It’d cause a huge uproar.”
“…An uproar, huh?”
“Exactly. But you haven’t gone public with my secret yet. What’s your angle? Waiting for the perfect moment to hit the Saionji family where it hurts most? O-Or… are you seriously planning to use this to make demands… like, my body or something…?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she threw the question at me, voice shaking with fear. Yet she didn’t back down, lifting her chin defiantly—probably because those “reasons” she mentioned meant that much to her.
…But this whole conversation was built on a pile of misunderstandings.
“Hey, uh… Rina—or, Sarasa. Why do you think I know your lie?”
“Huh? W-What kind of question is that? Because you beat me, obviously.”
“…Hm?”
“To be exact, because you took my Red Star. …You know, right? The Red Star lets you tell one lie, but there’s a catch—the next owner learns what lie you told. So, naturally, you’d know my secret. I mean, why else would a transfer student hog the spotlight at the ceremony?”
“…”
Oh… oh. So that’s how she saw it. No wonder she’s freaking out. In her eyes, I must look like some sinister mastermind.
“Here’s the thing, Sarasa… or whoever. It’s all in your head.”
“……What?”
“I didn’t know anything about your lie until you just told me. I don’t know what you’re imagining, but I’m serious—I only got to this island yesterday, and I barely know how to use my device. The Red Star having a downside? First I’m hearing of it.”
“N-No way…! You beat me and became a Seven Stars, so you had to be a Six Stars before that! A brand-new student doesn’t climb to that rank in a day or two!”
“Yeah, normally, that’d be true. But I’m not a real Seven Stars.”
“W-What!? Not a Seven Stars…? But at the ceremony, you—!”
“That’s the lie I’m telling, using the Red Star’s power. …Listen—my real rank? One Star. The only Star I’ve got is the Red Star I took from you—bottom of the barrel. Just like you, I’ve got reasons, so I’m faking my rank.”
“…Wh… huh…?”
She stared at me like I was speaking gibberish, mouth half-open. …Yeah, it’s not exactly easy to swallow. Still, her mind’s sharp—she processed it in seconds, lips trembling as it sank in.
“W-Wait, hold on… So you’re not the island’s strongest? Beating me was a fluke, and you didn’t know my secret?”
“Yup. That’s the deal.”
“No… no way… Then I—I just—”
Sarasa—or Rina—dropped her head, pressing it against my chest, muttering like she was in a trance. “I just…” Yeah, that’s right. We both lied, and it made us miss each other’s signals completely. But no matter how you slice it, she just spectacularly blew her own cover.
““…””
We stood there, silent, stuck in that awkward closeness.
About a minute later… she finally looked up.
“…Sorry. I need to go home and cool off. Shinohara, right? Let’s make time tomorrow to talk properly. This whole thing’s a mess for both of us, and letting it fester won’t do any good. So—until then, don’t lose.”
Wiping her tears with her sleeve, she spun on her heel, red hair flowing as she vanished into the alley’s shadows.
I stayed there, leaning against the wall, staring blankly at her shrinking figure. …My head was still spinning from the info dump. Sarasa Saionji and Rina Akabane. A fake heiress. Complicated reasons to keep lying.
Wait—hold up.
“She’s not the real heiress, just a stand-in… so she’s not some Saionji noble. Then… does that mean beating her wouldn’t piss off the chairman…? Wait, what!? So I didn’t even need to become a Seven Stars in the first place!?”
The realization hit me like a truck, and I clutched my head dramatically.
If only I’d known this a few hours earlier—! But it’s too late now. I went and picked a fight with every student on Academy Island. Threw down the gauntlet without thinking. Now, all 150,000 players in this Star-Hunting game see me as “the new strongest.” And if they ever find out it’s all a lie… who knows what could happen.
That’s right—the battle’s already begun.
“…Ugh, damn it.”
Cursing my own stupidity and this twisted fate, I trudged toward the dorm.
The Meeting and Collision of Liars
Please tell me, Himeji-san
Teach me, Himeji-san — Part 1
What’s the Star Ranking System?
Within the academy, high school students are ranked from 1-star to 7-star, and their treatment varies depending on their rank.
The Master currently holds a 7-star rank through manipulation of the system, but their true rank is 1-star.
If they were to participate in a regular (game) duel, they wouldn’t stand a chance against a 3-star or 4-star student.
Overview of Star Ranks
1-Star
A rank for mobs borrowing the name of the academy’s director. Basically, background characters.
No abilities that can be used in matches (games), nor do they offer any advantage in compatibility.
2-Star
A rank just above the 1-stars.
1-star and 2-star students make up about 60% of the student population.
3-Star
A rank for students who are active in clubs or circles and are skilled in one particular area.
4-Star
A rank given to students recognized for their high level of skill and achievements on campus.
Some stores even allow access to certain abilities or benefits to 4-stars and above.
5-Star
A rank for the top performers in the entire school.
Students ranked 5-star and above can influence the high school rankings of the academy.
6-Star
A rank granted only to the best of the best—those whose skill is acknowledged even among the few elite on the island.
Despite being students, they are granted immense authority.
7-Star
The absolute top.
A title bestowed upon only one person at a time.
Highly sought after by many powerful students.
Colored Stars
Special stars—of which around a dozen are known to exist on campus.
The Master’s red star is one such example.
Each colored star is said to grant a unique bonus ability.
However, whether these have tangible effects or not is still up for debate…
How Stars Are Awarded
- Stars are awarded by the academy based on academic performance or achievements upon enrollment.
- Stars can be awarded as event prizes or after large-scale incidents.
- Stars can be won or lost through matches with other students.
This is the most common pattern.
