Chapter 2: The Birth of the False Seven Stars
The map app pre-installed on my device was pretty damn impressive, guiding even a slightly directionally challenged guy like me to my destination without a hitch.
…Or so I thought.
“Uh…”
Staring up at the dorm—or rather, mansion—marked by the coordinates on my device, I was starting to wonder if this thing was busted.
A mansion, yeah, that’s the word. Like something straight out of a manga. Its white exterior was elegant and dazzling, radiating an aura so picturesque it could be a painting all on its own.
“I’m supposed to live here…? No way, right?”
The sight was so beyond my expectations I couldn’t help but gulp, double- and triple-checking the device’s display.
I’d have been fine with something cheaper—my inner cheapskate almost kicked in—but then it hit me. …Right, this is Academy Island, where Stars rule everything. Sure, every student’s food, clothing, and shelter are covered, but the quality depends on your Star count. As someone posing as a Seven Stars, I couldn’t exactly roll up to some rundown dorm.
“Well, if that’s how it is, guess I’ll take it.”
With a theatrical sigh and a “what can you do” smirk, I pushed open the creaking gate. Crossing a meticulously manicured garden, I reached the front door. For a second, the lack of a keyhole or intercom threw me off, but then I remembered a tidbit from the guidebook.
Right… on this island, where your device doubles as ID for everything, old-school cylinder locks are out. Electronic locks you scan with your device are the norm.
“Like this, then?”
I held up my device, and with a soft beep sound, the door unlocked.
Bracing myself, I slowly pushed open the heavy door—and what greeted me wasn’t just an entrance but something more like a hall or lobby. A glittering chandelier hung from the high ceiling, plush carpet covered the floor, and even the air felt… expensive. Oh, and there was a maid standing right in front of me.
“Huh?” “…Oh.”
Bam—I slammed the door shut on reflex. …Was I seeing things? For a second, I could’ve sworn there was an adorable girl in a maid outfit blended into that high-society scene.
But, like, let’s be real—that’s impossible. If I did see something, it’s probably just my brain playing tricks. So, shaking it off, I decided to try again.
“…Alright.”
I took a deep breath and eased the door open once more.
Stepping inside, I scanned the room—no maid anywhere—oh, wait, there she was.
“…”
Not in the same spot as before, but there she was, peeking from behind a massive pillar to the right of the entrance hall. She seemed to be hiding—or something—her head, topped with a white headdress, cautiously poking out to watch me. Apparently, I was being sized up.
I’d passed the door’s authentication, so this had to be my new place… but what if there’d been some mix-up? A double-booking or something?
“Uh… hey, excuse me?”
“!”
I called out softly toward the pillar she was hiding behind, and her partially visible figure flinched. After a tense few seconds, still tucked behind the pillar, she finally responded in a calm, measured voice.
“…Pardon me, but may I have your name?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m Hiroto Shinohara—er, I mean, that’s my name. But, uh, is this maybe not the place I’m supposed to live? Did I mess up somewhere…?”
“Shinohara-sama… No, then there’s no mistake. Rather, please forgive my foolishness for hiding from the one destined to be my master.”
Her flat, almost emotionless tone carried as she stepped into view.
And she—well, she was so stunning I was at a loss for words.
Silky silver hair, neatly trimmed at her shoulders. Clear emerald eyes, polished like gemstones. Her features leaned more cute than beautiful, but her cool expression kept her from seeming too childlike. She was maybe a head shorter than the Empress—Sarasa. Not exactly petite, but her… generous chest paired with her frame gave off an almost sinful charm.
And what sealed her impression was her outfit: a maid dress. The frills were understated, but the design screamed adorable, perfectly matching her “want-to-protect” vibe.
Combined with her poised gestures and calm demeanor, she reminded me of a cat.
“…? Is something wrong, Master?”
Noticing my sudden silence, she tilted her head slightly, silver bangs swaying. I snapped out of it, scrambling to get back on track.
“Uh, I’ve got a ton of questions, but… for starters, why were you hiding? From what you said, it sounds like you knew I was coming.”
“Please refrain from formal speech. …As for hiding, in short, it was a communication error. I was indeed expecting ‘Shinohara-sama,’ but no one mentioned you were male. Ugh… that vixen played me.”
“…Vixen?”
“My apologies. I let a crude word slip.”
She offered a half-hearted bow, her movement accentuating her chest and forcing me to look away.
Raising her head, the maid—still expressionless—pointed to a room deeper inside.
“Keeping my Master standing at the entrance is a failure as a maid. My apologies. Let us continue in the living room.”
#
The pristine corridor stretching from the entrance hall, the ornate staircase I hadn’t yet climbed, the sprawling living room that felt like it could swallow dozens of tatami mats—every bit of it was so extravagant it made a regular student like me uneasy just standing there.
But all that awe was blown away by what the silver-haired girl said as she poured tea.
“Now, a brief introduction. I am Shirayuki Himeji. I’m affiliated with Sakura Academy in the Third District, but at the request of—er, not the vixen—Headmaster Natsume Ichinose of the Fourth District, I’ll be living here starting today to assist you, Master.”
“……Huh?”
I froze, unable to even touch the teacup she’d set before me.
“Living here…? Like, living here?”
“I can’t presume what kind of ‘living’ you’re imagining, Master, but it’s likely not far from the usual meaning. Rather than commuting, I’ll stay in this house to handle various tasks.”
“I-Is that something you just say so calmly!? Isn’t that basically, like… living together!?”
“That’s one way to put it. …Oh, but I’m sorry to disappoint any expectations, but we’ll sleep in separate rooms. I’m strictly a maid, so sharing a bed is off the table.”
“Even without that, it’s still a problem!”
Forget whatever wild extras she thought I was imagining—living in the same space as a girl this gorgeous was so absurd it felt like a fever dream.
But Shirayuki—Himeji—just tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled.
“…? Is it really that embarrassing? Or is ‘embarrassing’ a front, and you’re just saying you can’t stand the idea of living with me?”
“Why’d you jump to that…? Look, if you’re fine with it, I don’t care. I was just worried you’d hate the idea. I’m not, like, against it or anything.”
“Oh, no. To be blunt, I do dislike it.”
“!? S-See! You do hate it!”
“Yes. But that’s only because I’m not used to men in general. My issue isn’t with you, Master—it’s with that vixen.”
She muttered with a sullen glare. …Apparently, she’d been led to believe her “Master” would be a woman. No wonder she freaked when I showed up.
So, basically, Himeji was another victim of Ichinose’s schemes—just like me, sweet-talked into claiming the title of the island’s strongest without even realizing it.
“Man, I totally get where you’re coming from…”
“Funny coincidence. I was thinking we might get along, Master.”
Himeji let out a small, unenthused sigh, clearly not thrilled about it.
By the way, she’d been standing the whole time for some reason. Even after serving tea, she stayed upright, clutching her tray at a slight distance from me.
“…Hey, why don’t you sit? There’s plenty of space.”
“No, thank you for your concern. I’m your maid, Master.”
“Maid or not, you hovering there’s making me antsy. And if Ichinose sent you, we’re basically on the same team, right? No need to be so formal.”
“…Well… alright. If you insist, Master.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded and sat—three seats away, carefully holding her skirt. It was a weirdly precise distance, probably tied to that “not used to men” thing she mentioned.
Anyway.
“Back to what you said—‘assist’ means what, exactly? I figured maid outfit equals housework, but that doesn’t explain why Ichinose would bother arranging it.”
Even if I bought that a fancy dorm fit my Seven Stars act, a live-in maid felt like overkill. Housekeeping could be handled with a few weekly visits, and it had nothing to do with my lie.
“…I see. She didn’t explain that part.”
Himeji nodded, her silver hair shimmering faintly.
“How about this—shall we have dinner first? It’s a bit of a long story.”
“Dinner?”
“…Oh. Uh, did you… already eat somewhere else? My apologies. Please forget I said anything…”
My quick reply seemed to spark a misunderstanding, her usually blank face faltering just a bit—looking almost dejected. I waved my hands frantically.
“N-No, that’s not it! I mean, with everything going on, I barely ate lunch… Oh, damn, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m starving!”
Half to reassure her, half pure honesty—I hadn’t eaten properly since a measly pastry for breakfast over half a day ago, thanks to the chaos of crafting my ceremony persona.
Himeji let out a subtle breath of relief, a faint smile crossing her lips.
“…Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
#
I was already a little nervous about eating food cooked by a girl, but even accounting for that, Himeji’s skills were straight-up professional.
It felt like an Italian course. A chic ham appetizer, a main dish of pasta loaded with shell-on shrimp and crab, no expense spared. Perfectly cooked roast beef came plated with vibrant veggies, and a small bowl of tomato soup sat on the side, clearly made with serious effort.
“You… made all this? By yourself?”
“Yes, actually, right up until you arrived. The budget for your ‘living expenses’ was… substantial, so I may have gotten a bit carried away.”
“…Carried away? No way.”
This was way beyond “a bit” by any measure…
But whatever—someone went to all this trouble, so the least I could do was eat it while it was hot. After some convincing to get Himeji to sit (still a few seats away), I dug in.
One bite of the pasta, and my eyes went wide.
“!? Holy—delicious! What the hell, this is too good! There’s no way a human should be able to make something this tasty!”
“That phrasing almost sounds like an insult… You don’t have to hype it up, Master. You’ll probably eat my cooking often enough, and overpraising now will just make it harder to keep up later.”
“Hype? I’m not even doing it justice! If I had a better vocabulary, I’d be raving for an hour—two hours! Damn it!”
My stomach was in love, and I kept eating, half in awe.
Himeji watched me curiously, sipping her soup with impeccable manners. Then, out of nowhere, she murmured:
“You know… you’re surprisingly open with your emotions, Master. The—er, Headmaster Ichinose said you were exceptionally good at masking your expressions.”
“Huh? Oh, usually, yeah, maybe. Masking—or more like, I slip into acting without thinking. But with people I’m comfortable around, I guess I just let my real feelings spill out.”
I gave a small, wry smile. …Back on the mainland, my buddies used to tease me about it. “Nobody’s as much of an open book as you, man,” they’d say. Probably a side effect of constantly controlling my face without realizing it.
“People you’re comfortable with, hm?”
Himeji echoed my words softly, her tone still calm.
“I get what you mean… but isn’t that a bit fast? We just met.”
“Well… yeah, sure. But when I’m already short on allies, second-guessing the ones I’ve got feels like a waste of energy. Plus, you don’t exactly scream ‘bad to me.”
“…I see. Well, if you’re fine with it, I won’t complain.”
She muttered quietly, glancing away. …Maybe my logic was so simplistic she was just dumbfounded.
(Crap, did I mess up? …Hope I didn’t make her hate me…)
I kept my face neutral, but inside, I was sweating. …Side note: right after this, Himeji got a bit chattier, though I never quite figured out why.
“—Now, let’s get to the details.”
After dinner, with the table cleared, Himeji led me to another room. A home theater, probably. No decorations, but a massive LCD screen was embedded in the left wall.
She had me sit on a sofa and walked to the screen, tapping a tablet as she spoke.
“I’ll display images and text explanations on the screen. Normally, my device could handle this, but with hacking risks, it’s safer this way.”
“…Hacking?”
“Yes. They’re not officially distributed, but apps for spying on others’ device data do exist. …Better safe than sorry, Master.”
“…”
Her dead-serious tone made me swallow hard. …Right, yeah. What I’m about to pull off is, at its core, a massive scam. Morally? Definitely not the good side. If I get caught, it’s game over.
As that sank in, the darkened screen flickered to life. Two profiles appeared, complete with photos: mine and the Empress’s—but listed as “Sarasa Saionji,” not “Rina Akabane.”
“…Ahem.”
Waiting for me to finish scanning the screen, Shirayuki cleared her throat and began.
“This morning, Master, you faced Sarasa Saionji—Academy Island’s top VIP—in a Challenge and won, more or less by accident. Learning of this, Headmaster Ichinose moved to contain the fallout before it spiraled, securing you and crafting a false narrative to fool the Council: namely, that the transfer who defeated the Empress is the new strongest on the island.”
As she spoke, the screen showed a Star moving from the red-haired girl to me.
Calling her “Sarasa Saionji” feels a bit off, knowing what I know… but that just shows how big her lie is. Ichinose, Shirayuki, the Council—everyone thinks she’s the real deal. …Guess I’ll play along for now.
“Yeah, I follow up to there. But how’s that connect to this ‘assistance’ thing?”
“Don’t rush, Master. You’re new to the island. You need to understand not just the surface but the deeper mechanics.”
Tapping her tablet, Shirayuki switched the screen. A large equilateral triangle appeared, divided by horizontal lines that narrowed toward the top—a classic pyramid.
“The Stars on Academy Island represent a visible caste system. They’re an absolute measure from the academies, and more Stars mean better privileges. But there’s also an invisible factor—authority—that grows stronger the higher you climb.”
“Authority?”
“Yes. If ‘privileges’ remove restrictions, ‘authority’ ties to deeper matters… like power struggles between academies. The island has twenty academies, one per district outside District Zero. Every year, they’re ranked in a league table. The ranking’s impact is huge—budget, influence, freshman quotas, even district boundaries can shift based on it.”
“Huh… so student ranks play into that too?”
“Exactly. Total Challenge wins across all students, the number of Five Stars or higher, event participation and results—there are many factors, but Stars are undeniably the core. The higher you climb this pyramid, the more valuable you are. A Seven Stars? It’s rare for their academy not to top the rankings.”
Listening to Shirayuki, I sank into thought. …So just having a Seven Stars can tip the scales between academies? Yeah, that’s definitely top-tier.
“Yes, precisely.”
Shirayuki nodded, silver hair swaying, raising a single finger without breaking her blank expression.
“And—that’s exactly why Seven Stars are targeted. Relentlessly.”
“…Yeah, figures.”
If Seven Stars are that valuable, every academy would want one. A Six Stars beating a Seven Stars claims the crown, and even without that, just “weakening another academy’s power” is a massive win. So, to everyone, a Seven Stars is worth challenging.
“…But, Challenges mean betting your own Stars, right?”
“Correct. So, naturally, no one would come unprepared. But flip that—anyone with even a slight chance of winning has every reason to try. The payoff’s just too big.”
She paused, taking a breath, her finger swaying slightly.
“Normally, someone who reaches Seven Stars wouldn’t care about being targeted. Take last year’s Empress: 117 matches, 117 wins. A perfect shutout. More Stars unlock more Ability options in the Challenge app, so with matching skill, defense is doable. …But that’s for the real deal. You, Master, have no talent to speak of.”
“What!? Based on what?”
“…I saw your transfer exam scores. You shouldn’t have passed Eimei—or any high school, for that matter. Makes you wonder how badly that vixen wanted you.”
“!? …Ugh, damn it…”
“…? Oh, my apologies. I went too far. Let me rephrase: with scores this catastrophically abysmal, maybe a middle school somewhere—”
“That’s just a backhanded jab dressed as a fix!”
Half-tearing up, I pointed accusingly at Shirayuki, who kept digging at my ego with that pitying tone. I knew my scores weren’t great, but middle school level? Seriously?
“Ahem! Uh, anyway—what’s next?”
With an exaggerated cough, I forced myself to move on.
“I get that I’ve got no talent, fine. But that’s not all, right? I’m only pretending to be Seven Stars—”
“Yes. You’re treated as ‘the island’s strongest,’ but your true rank is One Star. All privileges and authority are One Star-level only. You’ll face restrictions everywhere… and worst of all, you can only install the bare minimum Abilities. The one silver lining is you snagged the Red Colored Star from the Empress.”
“…? Do Colored Stars affect Challenges?”
“To an extent. There are Abilities exclusive to Colored Star holders, giving them a slight edge over others at the same rank. …But they’re a double-edged sword. If you lose a Challenge, your Colored Star is the first to go.”
“Oh… so that’s how I got the Red Star from Sarasa.”
“Correct. Right now, you’re a Seven Stars and a Colored Star holder—the highest rank possible. The ultimate legend. Which makes the reward for beating you astronomical, especially after your ceremony stunt. You’re the most ‘targeted’ ever—”
“…And I’ve got neither the talent nor authority to handle it.”
It’s a tangled mess, but that’s the gist. I’m in a position where Challenge requests will flood in, but as a One Star, I’m stuck with crap Abilities. And yet, “one loss and I’m done”? That’s beyond harsh.
Wait… hold on, maybe—
“So ‘assistance’ means… helping me keep winning Challenges?”
“You stole my thunder—yes, exactly. Acting and demeanor are your strengths, I’m told, but Challenges can’t be bluffed through. Hence, you need support.”
She gestured to the screen, and I looked up. It now showed a group of people—men and women, different ages and styles. Shirayuki was in the center, but the others? Total strangers. At the top, a label: Support Team “Company”.
Her emerald eyes locked onto mine.
“Listen, Master. For up to two years—or until your lie is exposed, whichever comes first—we, The Company, will back you with everything we’ve got. Mostly for Challenges, but other things too. Say you’re out with friends and can’t enter a Three Stars-only shop—that’d be a problem, right? Or missing intel from invite-only backroom SNS for high ranks? Those situations pop up all the time here. We’ll cover everything. We’re in it for your lie, all the way.”
“——”
“…Master? Something wrong?”
“Oh… no.”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it kinda cool for a second.
It clicked at last. A tight-knit crew to back me up: The Company. Seems Ichinose is dead-set on keeping me undefeated. Feels like I’m being led by the nose, which stings, but since it aligns with my goals, there’s no point saying no.
Still… one question lingered.
“Hey, Shirayuki. What’s ‘assistance’ look like, exactly? Challenges are one-on-one, right? If someone else butts in, wouldn’t that be bad?”
“True. Group Challenges exist, but generally, third-party interference is forbidden unless it’s a special case. However—hm, it’s easier to show than tell. Let’s move to a demonstration.”
Cutting herself off, Shirayuki stepped closer. Stopping a short distance away, she leaned in, whispering softly.
“Master, check your device. …Yes, the Challenge icon in the center. I suspect you’ve already got a ton of requests piling up.”
“Huh? Let’s see… Whoa!? Forty-two!?”
“Ton” was an understatement. Just hours after my big speech, forty students had already picked a fight with me…
Reeling a bit, I followed Shirayuki’s instructions, scrolling through the requests. She watched intently with those emerald eyes, then suddenly murmured, “Stop there,” reaching out with her maid-clad arm.
Her finger tapped the “Details” option.
The requester’s rank, academy, and Challenge specifics popped up… and right then, a faint smile curved Shirayuki’s lips.
“This one. —Let’s make this your first Challenge, Master. It’s not flashy, but perfect for demonstrating assistance.”
“Hm… Challenge Name: 50/50. Rules—uh, just guess whether the opponent’s card is heads or tails? …So, a luck-based game?”
“Yes, it appears so. Not much room for strategy, it seems.”
“Appears so!? That’s bad news! I have to win!”
That’s what being a Seven Stars means.
Sure, even a luck game might have some “mind games” to play. Acting’s my thing, so it’s not exactly my weak spot—I could probably wing it and come out okay. But any chance of losing is too much. One defeat, and it’s instant game over. I can’t take that risk.
But Shirayuki brushed off my worry with calm confidence.
“Of course, I understand. And that’s why this Challenge is ideal.”
“Wait… you’re saying you can make this a guaranteed win? …How?”
“How? Isn’t it obvious? For a Master with no talent or authority, there’s only one surefire way to secure victory.”
Casually tossing out a brutal jab, she met my gaze head-on. Raising her right hand, she pressed a single finger to her lips.
Then, with a slightly mischievous gesture and tone, she said softly:
“—Cheating.”
#
The next morning.
(Crap… this is way more people than I expected…)
Having accepted the Challenge Shirayuki picked, I showed up bright and early at the designated spot: the oval bus rotary attached to “Academy Front Station,” the closest stop to Eimei Academy. I stood in an isolated patch of pavement, surrounded by roads like some urban island.
Trying to play it cool, I scanned the area—and spotted a crowd of nearly two hundred onlookers. Most wore Eimei uniforms like mine, but there were others mixed in too. Every single one of them was staring at me, the guy in the center, with naked curiosity.
“…”
My cheeks twitched under the strain, but honestly? This buzz wasn’t entirely random—it was half-intentional. When I accepted the Challenge last night, Shirayuki had me toggle the “public setting,” broadcasting the event to the island’s SNS. That’s probably why so many people showed up.
According to Shirayuki herself:
“—Listen, Master. It’s about impact. Sure, beating the Empress got you attention, but that’s all it is for now—attention. Some might even doubt your strength at this stage. So, we shut them up preemptively.”
Or so she said.
(Basically, it’s about “building my rep,” right? I get the logic, but…)
Thinking back on it, I let out a quiet breath. The Challenge itself was one thing, but a huge crowd meant a higher risk of my lie getting exposed. I couldn’t let my guard down for a second until this was over.
—Then.
“Yo, kept ya waitin’, huh?”
Just as I steeled myself, a male student pushed through the crowd. Light brown hair, a slightly disheveled uniform from an academy I didn’t recognize.
He strolled up to me, raising a hand casually.
“Sorry, sorry—prep took longer than I thought. Let’s do this proper: I’m Kyo Shibata, second-year at Kagurazuki Academy, Ninth District. Just hit Two Stars recently. Getting to Challenge the hottest name on Academy Island? Feels like a damn dream!”
“Thanks for the hype. But you seem pretty cocky for someone taking on the ‘strongest,’ huh?”
“Hell yeah, I am! Even if it’s a total mismatch, I’m betting a precious Star here. Gotta come in believing I’ll win, right?”
Shibata slammed his fists together with a grin, his bold claim—taking down a Seven Stars—making the crowd’s murmurs swell louder. …But that was fine by me. Beating someone who’s already given up wouldn’t sell my image at all.
So, I smirked, lifting the corner of my mouth.
“Hah… not bad. Alright, give it your best shot—I’ll crush you flat.”
—Throwing out a taunt, I cut loose with all the bravado I could muster.
Challenges on Academy Island come with a few universal rules.
—First: You can only request a Challenge against someone with more Stars than you.
This is the core of the “Star-hunting system.” You can only challenge higher-ranked players, and the outcome shifts Stars around. Simple setup: win, you gain a Star; lose, you drop one. But there’s nuance—like if a One Star loses, they can pay island currency instead of a Star, or Five Stars and up need to beat higher ranks to climb. Lots of little details.
—Second: The challenger picks the Challenge’s format.
This keeps the system “fair.” If defenders—higher-ranked players—could choose the format, Stars might never change hands. So challengers get that edge. Also, you can’t reject a Challenge request. Ignore one for a week without a special excuse, and you’re automatically demoted.
—Third: You can bring up to three Abilities into a Challenge.
That’s the thing I’ve heard about before. Every participant can register up to three “Challenge apps” to tilt the odds. Once chosen, those Abilities are locked for the match.
“…”
To sum it up: “data-wise,” I’m a Seven Stars, so I’ll never pick the format, I can’t gain Stars no matter who I beat, and since I’m really a One Star, I’m stuck with bare-bones Abilities. …What is this, a rigged game?
“—Aight, all set! Let’s go over the rules one last time!”
As I grumbled internally, Shibata—done registering his Abilities, apparently—pointed at me with a grin. His theatrics were over-the-top, and—I know it’s rich coming from me—but you could tell he was hyped for this shonen-manga moment of challenging the island’s strongest.
He swung his right hand up, and his device projected a screen in sync.
“Challenge Name: 50/50—dead simple. First, we randomly decide who’s offense and defense. Offense gets a card on their device and picks heads or tails. The other guy guesses—heads or tails, two choices. We do that three times, then swap roles. Defense picks the card, offense guesses, three times. If there’s even a one-point difference in correct guesses, game’s over. Tie? We reset and start over. …Easy, right?”
As Shibata finished, the crowd’s buzz grew, tinged with criticism and disappointment. …Not surprising. Talking a big game only to roll out a luck-based match? Kinda hard to take seriously.
Still, he kept grinning, smug as hell.
“Look, I get what they’re thinking—‘this is just a luck game, huh?’ And guess what? Most Abilities don’t even work here. Rules like this? Stuff like Probability Shift or Stat Control is useless. Pure, unfiltered luck.”
“…Oh? You’re that sure it’s luck-based—meaning you set it up this way on purpose?”
“Damn right, island’s strongest! Listen—a scrub Two Stars like me’s got no shot at you normally. Two Stars versus Seven Stars? Talent, everything—it’s worlds apart. …But a luck game? I’ve got no chance in a standard Challenge, but here? It’s always fifty-fifty. Check it—pretty good odds, right!?”
“Hm… so you’re just thinking, ‘win and it’s a bonus’?”
“Hah! Don’t gimme that weak crap! That’s not my play—this is about starting a wave! Even if I lose, once word spreads that luck games work, everyone’ll swarm you with Challenges! Not just you—anyone could get dragged down in theory! And when that happens? My stock skyrockets—!! Hahaha!! That’s worth betting a Star for!”
(…Damn, he’s thought this through.)
This brown-haired punk’s sharper than he looks. Even if he loses a Star, he’s built a plan to profit either way—a double-layered strategy. It’s an underdog tactic, but that’s how low-ranks fight, I guess.
(…Though, seems he’s underestimated things a bit.)
According to Shirayuki—there are Abilities for Five Stars and up that let you peek at your opponent’s device. Others could work too, so there’s probably gaps from info alone. …But that assumes I’m a real Seven Stars. I can’t use those crazy Abilities—hell, I didn’t even register any for this. So it really is just a luck game.
For me, who can’t lose even once, that’s a death sentence.
But… last night, when I voiced that worry, Shirayuki let out a small chuckle. “That’s why we’re here,” she’d whispered.
—Suddenly, a faint beep came through the earpiece in my right ear.
“Hello? Can you hear me, Master? If yes, touch your neck.”
Then a clear voice—Shirayuki’s. Checking my response through gestures means she’s close, probably blended into the crowd.
Keeping my eyes forward, I brushed my neck lightly.
“Confirmed. Now, to business—sorry for keeping you waiting, Master. I deeply apologize for the slight delay due to The Company member Kagaya-san’s oversleeping.”
“Huh? Ain’t my fault… You knew I’m bad with mornings, Shirayuki-chan—your bad for scheduling a Challenge this early!”
“…Still sleepy, Kagaya-san? Need a second cup of my special coffee?”
“Ugh! N-No, I’m good—never again with that nasty torture sludge…”
“Then snap to it. Come on, sharp.”
“Ugh… fine…”
I tuned out the goofy back-and-forth coming through the earpiece.
Kagaya-san—presumably tagging along with Shirayuki—is part of The Company helping with this plan. Last night, she sounded like a normal older-sister type, but now? All I hear’s this sleepy, slurred voice.
Meanwhile, Shibata finally stopped cackling and swung his arm down.
“Alright, preamble’s done! Time to get this Challenge started!”
With his words, the projection behind him flipped to the Challenge interface. The display showed Shibata as offense—meaning he’d set the card first.
(So I just guess heads or tails. Normally, I’d play mind games to throw him off, but… guess I’ll see what The Company’s got up their sleeve.)
I hadn’t been told much about the plan, so I tilted my head slightly, careful not to draw attention. Then Shirayuki’s voice came through again.
“—Master, from here, respond to our instructions. ‘Understood,’ raise your right hand; ‘say again,’ raise your left—both above shoulder height. Touch your neck, hair, mouth, whatever—just use that for replies.”
(Right hand, got it.)
“Thank you. …With preparations complete, let’s begin the ‘demonstration’ I mentioned yesterday. It’s not too complex, so I’m just relaying. Kagaya-san will handle the actual work.”
“Yo, Kagaya-neechan here! Sorry if I’m loopy—got dragged outta bed early. Forgive me, Hiroto-kun… nah, Hiro-kyun.”
(What’s with the ‘nah’…? Whatever, right hand.)
“Yes! Hiro-kyun’s stamp of approval!”
“…As you can see, Kagaya-san’s a bit of a handful, so please be cautious, Master.
Now, specifics—it’s not too tough for you. Kagaya-san’s hack will lock all three of the opponent’s card choices to ‘tails.’ All you need to do, Master, is answer ‘tails’ every time the guessing phase starts. And while you do, act convincing enough to dodge suspicion of cheating.”
(——Huh?)
Her words hit like a truck, freezing me mid-motion—neither hand raised.
For a second, I thought my earpiece was glitching… but the scene before me smashed that hope.
“Huh… what the hell? Damn it… why’s it not responding!?”
Frantically tapping his device, Shibata’s face twisted with panic as he started cursing. …Guess his device wasn’t taking any inputs anymore. Staring at him blankly, I subtly fidgeted with my hair using my left hand.
“…? Did I not explain clearly? My apologies. To clarify: right now, Kagaya-san, The Company’s electronics expert, is forcibly hijacking your opponent’s device. It’s just a lock to block inputs, but since the initial card screen shows ‘tails,’ he’s stuck picking tails forever.”
“…”
“Oh, it’s totally shady, of course. Third-party interference in a Challenge is a violation, and hacking someone’s device is straight-up taboo. If we got caught, we’re done—but, well, we won’t screw up like that.”
Shirayuki’s cool, confident tone rang through. …It was almost refreshingly crooked. No hesitation, just pure, unapologetic dirty tactics. —And yet,
(Oh… I get it now.)
Even understanding that, what welled up in me wasn’t disgust or righteousness—just plain acceptance. Yeah, this would guarantee a win. No room for luck, the victor decided before the Challenge even began.
Not that it’s normally that simple, of course. This is Academy Island, where Stars rule everything—Challenges are a big deal. Tons of people must’ve tried cheating to win before, so security’s probably tight. No matter how good The Company’s tech is, the environment itself should make cheating near impossible.
(But—if that’s the case, just don’t let anyone suspect you.)
If getting caught would ruin everything, then make sure no one even thinks to check. Play the Seven Stars role so perfectly there’s no crack for doubt to slip through.
So, I took a small breath, smirked wickedly, and… spoke.
“—Hey, what’s wrong, man? You frozen or something?”
“! N-No, that’s not… It’s not that—it’s just my device crapped out all of a sudden!”
“Your device? Nah, no way. The Challenge is running fine, so it’s not broken. Pretty lame excuse, if you ask me.”
“Excuse!? Why would I—”
“Simple. …You’re scared, aren’t you?”
I stepped closer, menacingly narrowing the gap, flashing a grin for the whole crowd to see—cruel, sinister, stoking fear on purpose. As the mysterious “strongest” of Academy Island, I kept spinning my words with cold confidence.
“You’ve been scared from the start, huh? Freaked out by the guy who took down the Empress. Terrified of looking like a fool in front of all these people. That’s why you’re putting on this fake bravado, right? Deep down, you didn’t even wanna show up—hell, that’s probably why you were late.”
“! T-That’s not true! I came here to drag you down—”
“Oh, really? …Funny, ‘cause it looks like your hands and legs are shaking like crazy. No wonder you can’t even work your device properly.”
“Tch… that’s not…”
Shibata tried to argue, scrambling to pick his card. But it wasn’t nerves—it was the hack locking him out. No matter what he did, nothing worked. The first round’s time limit ran out, and the guessing phase flipped to me.
Obviously, my answer was:
“—Tails.”
“……!!”
No way I’d miss that. …His face went pale as he moved to the second card, but his motions were clearly slower now. Same deal—no input, straight to my guess. I said “tails” again, nabbing the second point with ease.
“Ooh, nice one, Hiro-kyun!”
“…Yes. This is my first time seeing it up close, but it’s impressive. Not a single slip under all those eyes… I can see why that vixen took an interest.”
I didn’t react to the voices in my ear, keeping up my smug grin.
After I nailed all three of Shibata’s cards, it was time to switch roles—offense to defense. But right then, he suddenly collapsed to his knees.
“Noooo! Stop, please—I can’t take it anymore! I give up, I lose, just let me gooo!”
His scream tore through the air. …Seems the fear got too much, pushing him past his limit. Probably a smart move, all things considered.
Anyway—Shibata’s “surrender” cranked the crowd’s energy up another notch. Some groaned, “His plan wasn’t bad, though…” Others blinked, “Wait, what just happened…?” A few muttered, “Two wins in a row—guy’s legit,” sounding ready to fight. Reactions varied, but the number of skeptical faces seemed to drop a bit.
(So this is ‘impact,’ huh? Dirty trick, but… yeah, it’s working.)
Breathing a quiet sigh of relief internally, I moved to slip away before anyone could corner me. I cut through the crowd, left the rotary, took the main road, then ducked into a quiet alley. Checking my surroundings, I slumped against a wall.
Pressing the back of my hand to my forehead, I let out one thought:
(God, that was terrifying!!)
—Not out loud, but screaming in my head.
Seriously, I thought I was gonna lose it. I’d taunted Shibata with “you’re scared,” but that line fit me better. Being stared at by that huge crowd the whole time—from start to finish, my heart’s been pounding like a drum. Even now, it hasn’t calmed down.
My first Challenge as a Seven Stars. My first public show.
And in terms of shock value, The Company took up half my brain space. …Yeah, they’re the real deal. I probably could’ve won this Challenge solo, but for a guaranteed victory? Nothing beats their approach. Overriding the opponent’s intent—hell, even their Abilities—with flat-out cheating. To keep my lie alive, Shirayuki and the team are gonna be clutch.
“Thought I was screwed, but… looks like this might make things a bit easier.”
Muttering softly, still pressing my hand to my forehead.
—Then, a call from Shirayuki came through. Not the earpiece this time—just a regular call to my device. I glanced around again before answering in a hushed voice.
“Hey, Shirayuki?”
“Yes. So, Master, how was it? Your thoughts on that ‘tutorial’?”
“Thoughts? It was insane…! Way beyond what I expected. Honestly, I was half-doubting you guys yesterday, but now? Not a shred of doubt left. Thanks, seriously—you saved my ass.”
“…Good, it seems we’ve earned your approval. That’s all I could ask for—”
“Yeah. Sorry for dragging you into this mess, but I’m counting on you big time! Here’s to more, alright?”
“! …R-Really? That’s, um… I mean, it’s nothing. Forget I said that. …Anyway, today’s the opening ceremony. I’ll support you via audio if anything comes up, so let’s head to the academy soon.”
“? Oh, yeah, sure.”
Shirayuki stumbled over her words for a second before recovering. …Was she flustered? Hm… maybe I got too casual with my praise, even if I meant it. Probably not the kind of thing to throw around lightly.
(Gotta watch it… Ugh, this is why people always laugh at me for being too open.)
Shaking my head a few times to scold myself, I sighed and fired up the map app.
