Meanwhile, at Shaon High School, class 1-1, Matsuda was still sitting in his chair, tied up. Another blow landed in his face. A fist, then another.
One of the students turned to Rayma and asked, "Hey, how many times have you hit him already?"
Rayma shrugged indifferently. "Probably about twenty." He chuckled. "Oh yeah, and what? It was all for nothing."
He grinned wryly. "It felt good. Who cares? I wasn't that eager to take Naritu anyway. Die, you jerk."
He swung again, but at that moment the door swung open. Naritu burst into the classroom and grabbed the chair leg.
Rayma froze, then burst out laughing. "Wow, he looks cool. You're hesitating. Because of you, your friend got beaten up. Poor thing."
Matsuda, seeing Naritu, asked, "Why did you come?"
"Are you stupid or what?" Naritu snapped. "You should have told them everything right away. Look at the mess they've made of you. What would you have done if I hadn't come?"
He crouched at the chair and began hastily untying the ropes on Matsuda's hands.
Matsuda whispered through tears, "I'm sorry. I understand. You take your studies seriously. That's why—"
Naritu did not let him finish. Classes could wait. The main thing, he thought, is to choose what I truly believe is right.
He took off his glasses, put them in his pocket, took a deep breath and pushed his hair back off his forehead. His father's words echoed in his head again. Pull yourself together.
And looking straight at Rayma, Naritu said firmly, "Now you're dealing with me."
A few seconds later he clenched his fist and declared decisively, "I'm a participant in the Freshman War."
In response, Rayma burst out laughing and, stretching his hand out in front of him, shouted, "This is excellent. The other classes are already watching us. It's time to begin." He rushed into the attack, shouting, "Let's go!"
Ever since Rayma had come to Shaon he had been dreaming of this moment. He was the captain of his first-year class, and now he could finally show what he was made of.
"The first round of the Freshman War begins!" he shouted.
Across from him stood Naritu, the captain of class two.
The Freshman War. Round one. Beginning.
Rayma launched a sharp punch straight in front of himself, but Naritu dodged deftly. Rayma turned at once and swung his fist again. Naritu frowned, watching his movements, and dodged again, and Rayma crashed into the wall.
That's a very powerful blow, Naritu thought. If I take it directly, I'm finished. This is the pain Matsuda has been enduring all this time.
Rayma glared at his opponent and barked, "What the hell? All you do is dodge. This is a battlefield. Do you understand? If you just keep running, there'll be no end to it."
The next second he threw out a sharp fist, and this time the blow connected with Naritu's face.
Naritu rubbed the bruised place and, laughing slightly, said, "Not bad. But it doesn't hurt."
After that he went on the offensive, delivering quick, precise blows. Rayma began to lose his balance and thought, it's impossible to dodge these.
Naritu counted calmly. "Three blows landed. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight."
Then he swung his leg up sharply and hit his opponent between the legs, and shouted, "Thirteen."
Rayma fell to the floor with a crash.
Naritu leaned over him and asked calmly, "Matsuda withstood more than twenty blows. And how many did you take?"
He came closer, took the glasses Matsuda held out to him and put them on. Then he asked, "How does it feel? Did you enjoy beating Matsuda? There's nothing fun about it. It's just painful, and frightening, and disgusting. I don't understand you."
With those words he turned and headed into the hallway.
Turning to Matsuda, who was still standing there, swaying, he said, "Why are you standing around? We need to go."
They walked out into the hallway, and the rest of the students watched them go in silence.
The winner of the first round of the Freshman War: Naritu.
Matsuda rushed after him, shouting, "Wait, Naritu!"
And someone from the crowd shouted, "Four-eyes won!"
Immediately a murmur swept through the classroom.
"This guy is good."
"Yeah. He's strong."
A little to the side of the crowd stood Fumia Inui. He put his hands in his pockets and walked calmly on. Not long before, he had watched one of the students beating a guy in the basement of some office.
"At it again," Inui muttered.
Next to him walked Rui Narumiya, the heir to the conglomerate, and he smirked. "It was his own fault for screwing up." He kicked at the air as if testing his own resolve and asked, "So, how's this Freshman War of theirs going? Anything interesting?"
Inui sat down on the couch and answered calmly, "It's just getting started. But two or three of the guys look really strong. One of them is a nerdy smart guy in glasses."
Rui raised an eyebrow. "A nerd from Shaon? Sounds unexpected. What does he look like?"
Inui, who was a second-year in class four at Shaon, took out his phone and showed him a photograph. "Here. I took this today."
Rui looked at the picture. "He looks like a perfectly ordinary, diligent student. So what should we do with him?"
Inui chuckled. "If he really is like Fang says, then we definitely need him."