Welcome to the Classroom of Espers (Classroom of the Elite x The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.)

Chapter 6: Surprise

“Okay everyone, today’s a bit sudden, but we’ll be having a quiz.”

It was unusual for Hoshinomiya-sensei to take the podium outside of homeroom, but when she did, that was the first thing she said to the class.

“We weren’t told about this.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

The midterms were still a ways off, and everyone had assumed there’d be plenty of time before their first high school test. Naturally, her sudden announcement threw the class into confusion.

As for me, I already knew. During morning homeroom, I’d picked up her cheerful thought: (Everyone thinks they won’t see me again until the last homeroom of the day, but there’s a quiz coming up, so surprise—see you soon!)

“Of course you didn’t hear about it. I didn’t tell you.”

(It’s meant to be a surprise pre-midterm quiz.)

But Hoshinomiya-sensei simply breezed along, unfazed by the students’ complaints.

“Don’t worry, though. The results won’t affect your grades.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Ahaha~ just to check everyone’s current ability for reference later. So no need to glare at me like that, Kanzaki-kun.”

(Well, can’t blame him. Anyone would get annoyed at being told about a test out of nowhere.)

Even if many weren’t satisfied, she continued distributing the answer sheets.

Once every student had one, she instructed them to keep it face down on their desks. She went over the time limit and rules, then began the test.

“All right—start.”

At her signal, the students flipped their papers over.

(Twenty questions total. That shouldn’t take too long.)

(Four questions per subject, huh.)

(Wait a second… this is easier than the entrance exam, isn’t it?)

They were focused on the number and difficulty of questions, but really, they should’ve been writing their names first.

At a glance, the problems were indeed a bit easier than what had appeared on the entrance exam… except for the last three. Suddenly, the difficulty spiked to an absurd level.

It was like the test went from “facing Arlong” straight to “facing Rob Lucci.”

Could any high school first-years even solve this?

(Huh? Was this in the textbook? I don’t remember learning this.)

(This seems to be an application problem… But… did we cover this…?)

Even Kanzaki and Ichinose-san were tripping over the steps in their work. If the top students were struggling, the rest of the class didn’t stand a chance—desperately plugging formulas into problems, but failing to reach any answers.

Since Hoshinomiya-sensei had said it wouldn’t count toward grades, I saw no reason to solve those last three questions.

So, I answered everything else correctly but made sure to drop enough points to land on sixty.

For B-Class, the average score would probably fall somewhere around sixty to seventy. Scoring slightly below average, but not close to failing, should keep me safe.

“All right, time’s up! Pass your sheets to the front.”

At her call, the students passed their papers forward. With that, Hoshinomiya-sensei’s class ended, and break time began. Unsurprisingly, the topic dominating the room was the sudden quiz.

“Hey, Saiki—did you manage to solve that last problem?”

Kanzaki turned to look back at me, asking what I’d gotten on the last problems.

I shook my head. Hearing this, Ichinose-san—and Shiranami-san, who was clearly interested in her—also came over to our seats.

“So even you couldn’t solve them, Kanzaki? What about you, Chihiro-chan?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen problems like that before.”

The three of them puzzled over the quiz’s purpose, but of course no answer presented itself.

—Well, they’ll find out soon enough. Specifically, on May 1st.

On that day, there’ll be an explanation about the quiz, the monthly point distribution, and—as if it were just an afterthought—announcements regarding class points and the upcoming midterm exam.

The quiz itself was little more than a scare tactic before midterms. Mostly aimed at the lower-average students in Class C or D.

For the midterms, anyone who scores a failing grade in even one subject—defined as half of the class average, if I recall correctly—faces expulsion.

But fortunately, the very first test for first-years comes with a hidden “strategy.”

Past exams.

Apparently, every year, the first-semester midterm for first-years is identical to a previous year’s version. If you know that, you can avoid failing altogether—even score full marks—just by getting your hands on those past papers, whether passed down from senpai or bought.

To confirm this rumor, I tried psychometry. I put on a germanium ring to keep stray thoughts away, but a few times I accidentally picked up images of authors from the books my dad or Shiina-san had lent me.

Still, I did manage to capture the test papers. The problem is, I have no way of knowing for sure whether what I saw was really a past exam. I specifically focused on “the first-year first-semester midterm past papers,” so it should be correct… but unless I compare it directly to the real thing during the test, there’s no way to be certain.

The content certainly looked like a first-year midterm, so odds are it’s accurate. But I can’t prove it.

Sneaking into the staff room to check this year’s midterms myself would be too risky in a school full of security cameras. Which leaves getting a look at the papers directly from a senpai.

But honestly, our class isn’t at risk of failing even without the past exams, so there’s not much point in confirming it.

Still, since class performance on the midterms will affect both private point distribution and class points, it’s obviously better to score higher.

Private points, by the way, are directly tied to class points.

Class points are a numerical evaluation of Class B’s students in all aspects—academics, athletics, sociability, and so on.

At the start of each month, the number of class points multiplied by one hundred is distributed as private points.

For example, if Class Points are 780, then each student receives 78,000 private points.

Class points are based on a deduction system. The default is 1000, and points are gradually subtracted when students behave in ways deemed socially or personally unacceptable.

So, given that Class B students were chatting, napping, and messing with their phones in class earlier this month, it’s safe to assume we’ve already lost a few.

Incidentally, the midterms always come with a notice partway through that the exam scope has been changed.

I don’t understand the reasoning behind it, but according to what Hoshinomiya-sensei muttered in her thoughts, it’s supposed to test whether students can adapt flexibly to sudden changes.

(Well, there are past papers anyway. Besides, if someone’s score tanks from something that small, then honestly they’re too fragile to last here.)

That’s how she put it. Apparently, only the first midterm is like this; from then on, there are no past papers, and no changes to exam scope. In other words, it’s a beginner’s trap.

“They said it wouldn’t affect our grades, but… what do you think?”

“I couldn’t solve it at all. Am I gonna be okay, Honami-chan?”

“Yeah, I think so. I couldn’t solve it either.”

“I thought it was easier than the entrance exam, but if not solving that last one means we can’t advance, then we’re in trouble, right Kanzaki?”

“No, that won’t happen. You solved the other problems, didn’t you? The last ones were just challenge questions, I’m sure.”

—And yet, instead of waiting for May 1st, they decided to gather around me—the one who already knew all the spoilers about surveillance cameras, point distribution, and the not-so-explicit hundred-thousand-point allowance—to hold some kind of “quiz postmortem” or “pep talk.”

Please don’t. Just because Kanzaki and Ichinose are sitting here doesn’t mean you all need to crowd around me. There are other spots. Many, in fact.

As expected, on May 1st came the announcement about class points, along with explanations about the midterms and the quiz. One thing I’d forgotten: only students who graduate from Class A are guaranteed their desired career path or university.

If our class points surpass those of Class A, then Class B can be promoted to the new Class A.

With that, the framework of this school’s system was more or less revealed. Everyone finally came to understand.

That this school is built on meritocracy. Not quite “the humiliation of being trapped in a cage,” but… it left them with something to think about.

If I hadn’t known in advance, maybe I could’ve reacted with a shocked (No way…!) or a trembling (That can’t be true…!) like the rest of them.

(No way…)

(We weren’t told about this…!)

Hm? Ichinose and Kanzaki being this surprised is unexpected.

Both are ambitious, cooperative, intelligent, and athletic. Ichinose even has a certain charisma. Whether that makes her leadership material is another matter, but still.

Given their capabilities, I figured future prospects like university or employment wouldn’t be a problem even without Class A status.

(It’ll be okay. If I make it to Class A, I can go to university without being a burden to my mom. That’s why I have to climb to Class A…)

She’s said something like this before, hasn’t she? Must be family circumstances.

With Ichinose’s academic ability, she could probably make it into a national university. If the issue is “being a burden,” then it must be about tuition.

—Well, it’s not really my business.

At any rate, our time at the Advanced Nurturing High School has begun with its very first trial.

The question now is how Class B will overcome it.

<+>

Note:

If I had let everything be explained by Chie-chan, the story would’ve ended up splitting neatly into the quiz part and the May 1st announcements. So instead, I smoothed it over by having Saiki, who already knew all the spoilers, deliver the explanations himself.

“How will Class B survive?”—that’s the question. As for the committee system, I don’t really remember exactly when it was first introduced, but I figure it should be around this point. Still, writing it out is a hassle, so I’ll probably just report it after the fact.

Regarding the point system: Kanzaki and Ichinose weren’t surprised, since everything matched what they and Saiki had already predicted. What shocked them was learning that without Class A, there’s no guaranteed ticket to the university, vocational school, or job they want. Of course, Saiki made sure to put on a suitably surprised face so he wouldn’t stand out.

One thing I’m still unclear about: even if you’re guaranteed advancement, does that cover tuition and textbook costs for learning specialized skills? I don’t remember. But since it’s only one class per year, and only those who survived three years of brutal special exams to graduate as the top class, it wouldn’t be strange if those expenses were covered too.