Classroom of the Elite: Standing Firm in Class A — Chapter 31

Chapter 31: The Probe Fails

Her voice climbed in pitch, vibrating with the manic energy of a rogue scientist who had just unraveled the fabric of the universe.

“Therefore, through rigorous, scientific, and entirely logical deduction, I have reached a singular, obvious conclusion!”

She cut herself off, slamming both palms flat against Kaedehara Tetsu’s desk with a sharp smack. Leaning over the wood, she fixed him with a burning, unblinking stare.

“You, Kaedehara Tetsu, must have mastered some kind of black technology in your dreams! You are downloading knowledge data directly into your cerebral cortex! Am I right?!”

“To complete one’s academic studies while unconscious—it saves time, maximizes efficiency, and represents the ultimate pinnacle of human evolution! Therefore…” She took a deep breath. “…Please, you absolutely must teach me this method! I am begging you!”

With a sharp swoosh of air, she folded at the waist, executing a flawless, ninety-degree bow right in front of his desk.

A suffocating silence descended upon the classroom.

The few students lingering after the bell merely stared at Morishita Ai. They watched the unfolding farce with slack-jawed disbelief, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind.

Tetsu stared down at the crown of her deep blue hair. For the first time since his arrival, he felt a momentary glitch in his own cognitive processing. He had anticipated various angles of approach, but he had never expected the situation to derail into such an exaggerated spectacle.

What exactly was the architectural makeup of this woman’s brain?

He let the silence stretch, offering no immediate response.

Ai proved remarkably persistent. She maintained her rigid bow, frozen in place, projecting an aura that suggested she would remain bent in half until the end of time if he refused her.

Finally, Tetsu broke the quiet.

“Morishita Ai.”

“Yes!” At the sound of her name, she snapped upright, standing at strict attention like a grade-schooler awaiting a lecture from a strict headmaster.

Tetsu picked up the thick textbook resting on his desk and rose to his feet.

“If you wish to learn my method, the prerequisite is quite simple.”

He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them until he was looking down into her wide, expectant eyes.

“First, take this textbook back to your dorm. Copy it from the first letter to the final period, word for word. Ten times.”

“Eh? Copy… copy the book?” Ai blinked, her anticipation shattering into utter bewilderment.

“That is merely the first step. If you lack even that baseline level of perseverance, discussing the subsequent phases is a waste of my time.”

Tetsu delivered the utter nonsense without a single twitch of his facial muscles, projecting the solemn gravity of a grandmaster passing down a forbidden martial art.

“Wait, hold on a minute! Ten times?!”

Considering the sheer density of the academic text, transcribing it just once would be enough to induce severe tendonitis.

“Is that too much?” Tetsu arched a single brow, his tone laced with dry disappointment. “It seems your grand desire to evolve into a new human was nothing but empty lip service. In that case, forget I said anything. My techniques are reserved exclusively for those with the necessary qualifications and resolve.”

Leaving her petrified like a stone statue, Tetsu walked straight past her, his footsteps steady as he headed for the classroom door.

“Ah… wait, wait! Kaedehara Tetsu! I will copy it! I will do it, okay?!”

Her wailing shout echoed off the walls.

Tetsu stepped out into the corridor, his mind automatically filtering out the shrill noise trailing in his wake.

“Kaedehara Tetsu! Wait for me…”

Just as he approached the stairwell, the frantic patter of footsteps signaled her approach. A moment later, Ai’s energetic figure materialized at his side, matching his stride shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Say, Kaedehara Tetsu, is there any chance we could simplify the ten-time copying ritual?” She leaned in, tilting her head. “For example, could you project the text directly into my subconscious? Or perhaps I could use the textbook as a pillow tonight and rely on the scientific principle of osmosis for the knowledge transfer?”

Tetsu did not break his stride. He did not even turn his head, merely shifting his gaze to catch her in his peripheral vision.

“You could try writing it in your own blood. It is said that bodily fluids containing personal genetic information act as a potent medium, creating a stronger resonance with the knowledge itself. It might allow you to shave off a few repetitions.”

“Write with blood?!”

A deeply conflicted expression washed over Ai’s face. She instinctively raised her hands, staring down at her slender fingers. “Then… exactly how much blood would that require? I would definitely get anemia, right? Does the campus infirmary reimburse medical expenses incurred from performing mysterious occult rituals?”

Her train of thought effortlessly bypassed the boundaries of ordinary logic, spiraling into an entirely inconceivable realm.

“That is a logistical issue you will have to solve on your own,” Tetsu replied, his voice devoid of even a microscopic trace of humor.

“Fine, fine. The risk assessment for the blood-writing strategy is a bit too high. I will temporarily relegate it to a backup plan.” She discarded the absurd concept as quickly as she had entertained it, her mind leaping to the next angle. “But seriously, Kaedehara Tetsu, just reveal a tiny fraction of the theoretical framework to me. I swear on my life I will not leak it to anyone!”

She leaned in even closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as if they were negotiating a classified black-market transaction.

Tetsu finally stopped walking.

They had reached the main school gates. Just ahead lay the bustling intersection that branched off toward the cafeteria and the Keyaki Mall.

He turned slowly, facing her head-on.

“Morishita Ai.”

“Yes!” She snapped to attention once more, her eyes practically sparkling with anticipation.

Tetsu held her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Do you know what a theory requires to survive the journey from its initial proposal to its final proof?”

“Uh… a massive amount of experimental data? Rigorous mathematical calculations? Peer review?” she guessed, her confident facade wavering slightly.

“No.” Tetsu shook his head. “It requires the first fool willing to believe in it and put it into practice.”

He reached out, his hand descending to gently pat the crown of her head.

“Whether it is the ritual of copying a textbook or the method of writing in blood, they are merely gateways to possibility. If you intend to just stand here and use your mouth to probe for a theoretical framework, you will never grasp the answer.”

With that, he smoothly withdrew his hand, deliberately cutting off any avenue for further questioning.

“I have other matters to attend to. Excuse me.”

Leaving her with that crisp dismissal, he turned his back and smoothly merged into the sea of students surging through the gates.

Ai stood completely still in the center of the bustling thoroughfare, staring blankly at the spot where Tetsu had vanished into the crowd.

Slowly, she raised a hand, her fingertips brushing the top of her head where he had just patted her. A faint, lingering warmth seemed to radiate from the phantom touch.

The ambient clamor of the student body faded into a dull, distant hum.

At some point, her signature, hyperactive smile had completely melted away, leaving behind a chillingly blank expression.

Yet, those large eyes, previously wide with feigned innocence, now gleamed with a sharp, calculating light.

“The first fool…” she murmured, rolling the syllables over her tongue in a whisper meant only for the wind.

‘Hmm… so probing is completely useless.’

Whether she used childish pranks to provoke an emotional spike, or deployed exaggerated, theatrical antics to gauge his reactions, it all amounted to nothing.

This man, Kaedehara Tetsu, was akin to a bottomless black hole. He absorbed every trick she threw at him, neutralizing them instantly, only to reflect the pressure back at her with twice the force.

He did not view her as a peer. He did not see her as a classmate worthy of equal footing.

He was simply humoring a child.

‘How utterly hateful.’

Her preferred method of operation—dancing around the truth, hiding her probing behind the mask of an eccentric, naive girl—was entirely ineffective against a monster of his caliber.

Slowly, her slender fingers curled inward, clenching into tight fists at her sides.

Perhaps, the next time they crossed paths, she would need to discard the theatrics.

Next time, she would have to use the most direct, straightforward approach possible, and slam her true intentions right onto the table.