In the enigmatic confines of the white room, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the revered "Masterpiece of the demonic 4th generation," undergoes rigorous training. But when the military raids the facility, Ayanokouji is finally freed from its grip.
However, spe...
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- Start of 4th Arc -
Mid-July, summer was at its peak, and the sky outside revealed a clear, unyielding blue. I sat at my desk in the classroom, observing the ambiance that surrounded me. The air hung still, slightly stale from the combination of warm temperatures and the efforts of the aging air conditioning unit.
As the sunlight filtered through the windows, casting gentle beams of light onto the desks, the room took on a subdued glow. The subdued hum of distant conversation and the occasional rustling of papers created a background symphony. Students, their energy somewhat diminished by the oppressive heat, moved with a certain sluggishness, their actions betraying a sense of weariness.
But the students' expressions were filled with relief, their burden lifted as they had just finished the final exams. The tension that had lingered in the air for weeks dissipated, replaced by a collective sense of accomplishment and anticipation. It was a moment of respite, a temporary reprieve from the pressures of academic pursuit.
Today, the results of the exams had been posted, and a subtle buzz of excitement and curiosity permeated the classroom. As students eagerly gathered around the notice board, I observed from a distance, maintaining my usual indifferent demeanor. My eyes scanned the list, searching for my name among the sea of rankings.
There it was, almost inconspicuous among the higher achievers. Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, 23rd. It was a marginal increase from my previous standing of 24th, but such rankings held little significance to me. They were merely an external measure, a faint reflection of my true abilities that I intentionally kept hidden.
I observed the reactions of my classmates, ranging from ecstatic smiles to solemn nods, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the competition that defined the academic landscape. My true strengths were concealed beneath a carefully crafted façade, a deliberate choice to remain in the shadows and avoid drawing unnecessary attention.
As I continued to observe the reactions of my classmates, lost in my own thoughts, I was momentarily disturbed by Nakamura, who was approaching my desk. He wore a congenial smile, extending his hand in congratulations for my consistent academic performance.
"Congratulations, Ayanokouji. Maintaining your rank is no small feat," Nakamura remarked, his tone laced with a hint of admiration. He sighed, his gaze momentarily drifting as he confessed, "I, on the other hand, dropped one rank. Still in the top 10, but it's frustrating nonetheless."
I met Nakamura's gaze, my expression neutral as ever. "Rankings can be unpredictable," I replied, my voice calm. "You're still performing exceptionally well, and maintaining a position in the top 10 is commendable."
Nakamura's gaze shifted momentarily, his admiration for Ichinose apparent in his eyes. "Speaking of rankings, Ichinose-san managed to secure the top spot again," he remarked, a touch of awe in his voice. "She's truly something else. It seems like nothing can shake her position."
