Ch108 – Class 9’s Score Recalculation

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At this moment, a teaching assistant jogged across the quadrangle to whisper into the teaching director’s ear.

They whispered in front of the flag-raising platform, and even seemed to have a dispute, finally bringing over a watch to double-check the time. 

The teaching director frowned and turned his head to instruct another teacher beside him.
That teacher, taking a few others with him, hurriedly walked towards the teaching block.

After this minor interlude, the teaching director raised his voice again.

 

 

“Just a moment.
We’ve received a valid application for Class 9’s results to be recalculated.”

Everyone roared.　 

Score recalculation? This was unheard of.

 

The teaching director said impatiently, “This is indeed one of First High School’s school rules.”

In actuality, the teaching faculty were puzzled too.

Due to its cumbersome implementation, this school rule had stopped being printed in the school rulebook a few terms ago, so it was odd how the applicant found out about it.

 

Everyone looked at the Magician, standing at the back of Class 9.

“Did the Magician come up with something? Oh my lord, they’ve actually started to recalculate the scores!”

“So many classes have been executed without room for argument in the past, how is the Magician so powerful? He really did have something up his sleeve.”

 

“This new guy is a bit too scary, don’t you think? No wonder that bigwig favours him.” 

Not only the other classes, but the students of Class 9 were also all in tears, shouting “Jiu-ge“.

Only Zong Jiu stood still, without uttering a word because he was well aware he had only just successfully connected with the system and had yet to even start negotiations. 

So how could he have gotten a ‘score recalculation’?

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In essence, this had index 99’s handiwork all over it. 

Several of those in the bullet chat also zoomed in to see what Zong Jiu was looking at.

[No way… did index 99…???]

[AHHH CRIES nooo, I really really like index 99, I really like every single person in Class 9.
He’s usually so amusing, but why is he so silly when it comes to things like this? The Magician obviously said he had a way!]

[I’m guessing he’s gone, he even wrote ‘ninety-seven people’ on the table.
The score recalculation was probably thanks to him.] 

The white-haired young man stood in front of the desk, his gaze lowered, and his expression inscrutable.

The Magician’s finger traced over the top line of words, and he suddenly turned his head, his voice calm, “Do any of you know where index 99 went?”

 

The rest of Class 9 hadn’t realised something might have happened to index 99, let alone seen the message on the table surface, thus were all a little confused by the question.
“Didn’t he go to the toilet?”

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection.
If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

“Yeah, wasn’t index 99 needing to go just now? I saw him go towards the teaching block.” 

“Qjla.
Qts’r atja xlvvb ajxlcu rb ibcu lc atf ablifa? Yeg mijrr gfreia tjr jigfjvs yffc jccbecmfv…”

Ycis lcvfz 98’r ojmf aegcfv rtffa-ktlaf ktfc tf tfjgv atf afjmtlcu vlgfmabg jccbecmf atf rmbgf gfmjimeijalbc.

Xgjvejiis, fnfgsbcf jirb rffwfv ab ecvfgrajcv ktja kjr ublcu bc, fjmt ibbxlcu rtfii-rtbmxfv.

Dfmjerf Ibcu Ale rjlv fnfcis, “P tjnfc’a wjcjufv ab mbwweclmjaf klat atf rsrafw sfa.” 

Index 98 abruptly leapt to his feet from his seat at the back, inadvertently tipping his table over.

His reaction incited the other trainees of Class 9.

They all anxiously gathered around in a clamour.

“Index 99, h-he…” 

A big grown man, at this moment, tripped over his words.
He couldn’t even speak properly, a measly couple of words making him quiver with suppressed sobs.

At once, index 98 recalled many, many things, and many, many hints.

Many students in Class 9 were close to one another.
Even the person who spoke up in defiance of Zong Jiu on the first day of their class allocations was ultimately won over.

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Especially so among the usually-mischievous underachievers.
Index 99 and 98 were no exception. 

They had very lively and cheerful personalities.
Index 99 was the youngest in class, thus everyone treated him as their younger brother and he too was more than happy to play the part.

Index 98 wasn’t much older than 99.
However, 98 entered the infinite loop earlier than 99 did and was part of an organisation.
They clicked well and soon hit it off.

Both of them were not cut out for studying.
One was scratching his head over the sciences, while the other was never able to retain any knowledge of the humanities.
The better-performing students took turns to hold remedial classes for them, but their results still showed little improvement.

While they didn’t talk about it, they were both secretly remorseful, feeling they were holding the class back. 

On the night after the first monthly exam, sleep eluded index 98.

In the middle of the night, after all the lights in room 407 had gone out, index 99 snuck into index 98’s bed and almost scared a shout out of him.

 

That day was incidentally the day Class 9 found their first clue, learning that turning into faceless people could pull up the class average.

The two of them had hidden in their nest of blankets, at a loss of words for a time. 

Index 99 sighed.

They needed 600 marks for the midterm, which was truly a bit too harsh for Class 9 back then.
Their prospects were dismal, and this was even before taking them into consideration as the two worst-performing students in the class.
Their scores, which fell way short of the bar, would only drag Class 9 down.

They conversed for a very long time that night, just like real high school students did on a night when they felt lost before their university entrance exams.
He remembered they were chatting about all topics under the sun, as well as their fear of death.

They were both veterans in the infinite loop, but none of the previous instances they went through was as cruel and despairing—yet also as filled with incongruous warmth—as this collective instance. 

Index 99 said, if it really came down to it, it’d be better for him to die.
Anyway, he grew up without parents and had no one in the real world to return to.
In the past, he was hopeless at studying and did all he could to make ends meet.
Even if he died in a horror instance, there would be no one to remember him.

Index 98 punched him under the blanket, saying: You’re Class 9’s lil’ bro.
Even if you want to die, it can only be after us.
What are you pretending to be strong for? Make sure you don’t say that again or I’ll beat you up.

What started as a serious topic ended up being discussed conversationally, and even the fierce front was unable to be held up, bringing them both to chortles.

They stifled their laughter in the dark with the blanket over their heads so they wouldn’t disturb the other trainees in the room. 

A week later, the two of them went to collect stationery from a neighbouring classroom together and abruptly chanced upon a discovery.

The classroom was Class 8’s, who died heroically in the first monthly exam.

Every class had a clue left behind from the previous batch.
Its content varied, but all pointed toward how that class ended up.

Few people went to Class 8’s classroom after it was emptied.
Only Class 9, which was next door, would sometimes head over to grab extra scrap paper or stationery.
To their surprise, it was during this that index 99 and index 98 inadvertently chanced upon a clue the previous batch left behind in this classroom. 

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The clue was First High School’s rulebook.
Only some rules inside differed from the current version and came with a few more hidden rules.

After that, the room representative voluntarily transformed into a faceless person.

This incident hit both of them hard, particularly index 99, who was good friends with index 15.

On the way to the quadrangle, index 99’s head was bowed, sobbing all the way. 

He said index 15 died in his place.

Index 98 patted index 99 on the shoulder, also feeling choked up in his heart.
He was still unaware of the resolution index 99 made at that time.

 

It was only now that he realised what index 99 had resolved to then.

Index 98 was crying so hard he couldn’t finish his sentence, sobs stuttering his words, “…He must have found a clue about the score recalculation in that school rulebook.” 

Zong Jiu frowned.
“Do you know the specifics of that rule?”

Index 98 shook his head.
“I was showering.
When I wanted to see it after coming back, he told me he’d just gone out and passed the clue over to you, Jiu-ge.”

Everyone could guess what happened next from the way the Magician’s face darkened.

[I don’t believe it.
Did index 99 not pass the clue over to the Magician…?] 

[I think that’s quite likely.
If index 99 already made up his mind, then he must have been planning for a long time, or he wouldn’t have used the excuse of going to the washroom at the end of the exam.
No one suspected a thing when he left.
It’s obvious.
He was prepared for this and determined to die.]

[Sigh, I agree, it was probably a long time coming.
I’m guessing the clue index 99 held onto showed a way out, but it likely wasn’t a good one… From index 98’s words, index 99 even deliberately said he’d passed it along to the Magician when it was still with him.
He just didn’t want to let anyone else see what was inside.]

[No wonder nobody knew about this hidden school rule.
Index 99 had pocketed it from the outset.]

Even at this point, Class 9’s trainees hadn’t abandoned hope. 

“If it’s just an application for score recalculation, then index 99 should be okay, right? Or maybe he just had stomach pain and is having diarrhea?”

“Yeah.
He’s usually so naughty and mischievous and full of prankish ideas.
How could he risk his life to do such a stupid thing?”

“Who knows, it could just be that he wants to surprise us, and that’s why he’s hiding… We have to have faith in him.”

Despite their words, everyone’s eyes were uncontrollably spilling with tears. 

It was an answer that no one wanted to believe.

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Since it was highly plausible that the score recalculation would be taking the class average of ninety-eight people, and not ninety-nine.

During Class 9’s internal conversation, a conclusion was finally reached on this matter before the flag-raising platform.

The teachers who left returned and had a few words with the teaching director, calling a few teaching assistants to head over. 

Not long after their departure, the result of the score recalculation was also released.

Holding the white paper, the teaching director announced, “Class 9: 802 points.”

 

“This is unfair!”

The first to roar out was, obviously, Class 5’s monitor.
“Why should they be allowed to have a score recalculation? I also want to apply for one!” 

Class 5 wasn’t the only one.
Class 6, who just received their death sentence, was equally outraged.
The clamour on the quadrangle caused the staff to whisper among themselves that it was indeed for the best this school rule wasn’t printed in recent editions of the school rulebook.

The faceless man looked impatient.
“If a score recalculation is requested and the final score doesn’t change from before, then the applicant will have to live as a human swine before he is allowed death.
Do you have anyone willing to apply?”

A pause button was pressed on the classes kicking up a commotion.

Although it was death all the same, nobody wanted to have his four limbs chopped off, eyes gouged out, and tongue cut off to become human swine. 

Furthermore, the trainees in their classes were entirely self-serving.
No one was willing to bear the potential ramifications in exchange for the lives of the rest of the class.

That said, some were still unconvinced, “Then why did they get higher scores after the recount?”

Soon, everyone learned the answer.

The team of teaching assistants who hurried away just now finally returned, each carrying a heavy bag oozing blood, forming a trail behind them. 

Their conversation could be heard even from the quadrangle.

“Students who jump off buildings are so hard to clean up.
They get smashed into pieces and even their heads burst open.”

“Don’t ask for too much.
Even the roadside sanitation workers know the student cohort this year is pretty up to snuff.
In previous years, we’ve had to sweep away several.”

Another laughed boisterously.
“But hanging is still the easiest to clean up.
These underachievers are so intent on making trouble even after death.” 

No one uttered a word.

Only the teaching director sneered into the microphone.
“It is because the applicant died before the marks were tabulated.
Now, Class 9 only has ninety-eight students, not ninety-nine.”