A new club policy was established.
Having secured Jane’s approval, the student council moved without hesitation. Promoting the policy was just as important as creating it. The council’s direct subordinates delivered the printed announcents to each dormitory and posted them across campus. With so many hands, the work was done in a flash.
As evening fell, it was ti for the selection of the booths to be used during Club Season.
Staring at the firmly shut doors of the student council building, Dick gave the signal.
"Open them!"
’Clank!’
The mont the doors swung open, the club presidents sward inside like a horde of zombies.
"Everyone! Please maintain order and form a line!"
"Please calm down and form a single file!"
The subordinates struggled to control the crowd. As the students waited in a long line, their eyes fell on a poster on the wall.
"Huh, what’s this?"
"A New Club Season: Here’s What’s Changing."
As they had discussed, the Student Council transparently disclosed the criteria for budget allocation to the entire student body. The most important factors were the ‘number of mbers’ and ‘mber retention and managent.’ To evaluate retention, they also announced that monthly performance reports would be required to receive funding.
"...We have to write a report?"
"Aren’t they getting carried away just because they’re the Student Council now? They should’ve just kept things the way they were."
A few club presidents grumbled.
"It’s not all bad."
"I figured the Student Council would skim so off the top, but this ans we’ll get the full amount."
Writing a report was a nuisance, but many agreed it was better than being unknowingly shortchanged on the budget.
This was especially true for Noble, the quintessential privileged club. Despite having only a small, elite mbership, they had always used their powerful influence to pressure the Student Council, securing a large budget to fund their lavish lifestyle.
But with this year’s policy change, a shift was inevitable.
"Look at this! It’s a total ss, President! What are we going to do?" a female Noble mber cried, shaking her president’s shoulder frantically.
Last year’s Noble president had been Prince Andre, Princess Molly’s older brother, who was now expelled from Kizen. This year’s president was the second-year’s seventh-ranked student, Elisa Celine of the Ghost Ship.
Elisa averted her gaze.
"Well, if the Student Council President decided it, I suppose we have to follow..." another girl from the club muttered.
When she saw the girl’s eyes narrow, Elisa quickly raised her voice. "St-Still, we’re the Noble club! Of course he’ll give us a generous budget! I’ll make sure of it!"
"Right? That’s our Elisa!"
’Gods,’ Elisa sighed to herself.
In truth, she couldn’t care less about the club’s problems right now. The only reason she was trying to get on Simon’s good side was because of a large-scale project her family, the Celines, was planning. It was a collaboration with Kizen, and things would get complicated if a figure like the Student Council President decided to throw a wrench in the works. She was just trying to make a good impression in advance.
’If I can’t secure a budget, the third-years will tear to shreds. But if I complain to Simon, my family’s business will be in jeopardy.’
She agonized, scratching her head furiously. ’I never should have taken this damn club president position!’
At Kizen, it was customary for second-years to serve as club presidents, since the third-years had demanding off-campus schedules. The second-years were the ones who truly ran the clubs. While Elisa was lost in her frantic calculations, the line shortened until it was finally her turn.
"You’re next. Please enter," a servant announced with a bow.
Elisa snorted and strode into the student council room with a deliberately confident gait.
’Scritch, scritch...’
Ahead, she saw Vice President irin Villenne sitting at a desk by herself, a club season booth layout and a list of nas spread before her. At the larger desk behind her, Dick and Kamibarez were speaking with the club president who had been in front of them. And a little farther off, observing the entire scene while scribbling with a quill, was the boy himself: the Student Council President, Simon Polentia.
"Well, hello," irin greeted her, her expression anything but welcoming.
A vein throbbed on Elisa’s forehead. ’This insolent little brat.’
irin and Elisa had been rivals since their first year. But today, Elisa was the one in a bind, so she forced a smile and returned the greeting.
"Na," irin said flatly.
"Hehe, Vice President. Surely you know my na?" Elisa tried to charm her.
"I said, state your na."
"E-Elisa Celine."
irin gave a curt nod and wrote the na on her list. "Club na?"
’Bang!’
The girl who had co with Elisa slamd her hand on irin’s desk. "Cut the act! You know who we are! Don’t you know we’re the Noble club?"
irin shot Elisa a look as cold as ice, a silent, ’What is wrong with her?’
"Ahaha! She’s just a club mber who ca with !" Elisa yelped, clapping a hand over her friend’s mouth in terror. Provoking irin right now was a terrible idea. "I’m the president of Noble, so I’ll handle it! Please, continue, Vice President!"
With a sullen expression, irin wrote ‘Noble’ on the docunt. "This year’s club season will be held in the first-year campus’s central plaza. You can choose your booth now."
"O-Of course, we’ll take—!"
Just as she had last year, Elisa reached for the largest, most prominent booth, but her hand froze. Another na was already written there.
[Hemomancy Research Society, Sadam.]
"Wh-What is this?!" ’Sadam took this spot?’
While Elisa stood there, dumbfounded, her friend lunged forward. "Wait a minute! This is our booth! Who chose this spot?!"
"Are you blind?" irin retorted, propping her chin on her hand. "It clearly says ‘Sadam’ right there."
"This has been Noble’s booth for over ten years! You should have had the sense to keep it open for us! Is this how the student council does its job? Half-assed?"
"And how is not catering to ’your’ every whim the sa as us doing a half-assed job?" irin shot back.
The girl’s mouth fell open. "Wow. So that’s how you’re going to be? Do you have any idea who the third-year seniors in Noble are?"
"Why the hell—" irin shot up from her seat, her voice laced with fury. "Are you bitching at when you’re the ones who were late?"
The other girl flinched at the sudden force of her presence.
"Didn’t you know the booths were first-co, first-served? Or is your brain so fried you thought you’d get special treatnt even if you were late? If your precious seniors have a problem, I’ll be happy to tell them myself. I’ll say their lazy juniors couldn’t be bothered to show up on ti and lost the best spot. And if you have a complaint, take it up with Sadam. Why are you giving us shit when we’re just trying to be impartial?"
"You... you...! Do you know who I am?!"
"Are you seriously pulling the family card at Kizen like so first-year? If you’ve got a problem, go pick a fight with the Ivory Tower. You got the guts for that?"
The girl’s face turned beet red as she stamred, "B-b-buh..." It seed she’d never been subjected to such humiliation before; her brain had simply shut down.
"Now, get lost," irin said, sitting back down and striking Noble’s na from the list with a flick of her quill. "Next."
"W-Wait!"
In the end, it was up to Elisa to clean up the ss. After ushering her sobbing friend out of the room, she scrambled back to the desk.
"S-Sorry, Vice President! We’ll take this spot here!" she said, pointing to the next-best location.
irin sighed, her bangs fluttering in the exhale. "If your seniors really give you a hard ti, try talking to Sadam. You can switch booths if you both agree."
"Ah. Okay. Got it!" Elisa nodded quickly. Of course, that ant they’d have to pay Sadam a hefty price.
After writing Noble’s na in the new space, irin gestured behind her—a clear signal to leave now that she was registered.
’Sigh.’
Enduring a throbbing headache, Elisa moved to the next station.
"Welco!" Kamibarez greeted her with a bright smile from her seat.
"That was fucking hilarious," Dick snickered beside her, clutching his stomach. "Why would she pick a fight with irin? She had to know she has a temper."
"...Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe she’s in a different class and had no idea," Elisa muttered, then looked at Kamibarez, urging her to get started.
Kamibarez picked up a docunt. "Will you be needing a budget for this club season?"
"Of course. We need to put up banners, print materials, and a bunch of other things."
"Ahem. My dear client, I’m afraid that won’t do," Dick interjected, instantly switching to business mode as he presented a quill with a flourish. "To get the budget approved, you need to specify exactly where, what, and how you plan to use it."
Elisa took the offered quill, a look of disbelief on her face. "Are you guys always this strict?"
"‘If you’re going to do sothing, do it right.’ That’s our president’s motto," Dick said, pointing behind him. Simon was visible in the president’s chair, signing docunts. "But I can promise you this." Dick spread his arms, a wide grin on his face. "As long as you follow the rules, your club budget will be larger than last year’s. It definitely won’t be less."
"Hm..."
"We’re a student council that doesn’t skim off the top."
---
The new system was surprisingly well-received. In truth, Simon’s student council wasn’t the first to implent such a policy. irin had discovered that, while rare, other student councils had tried similar systems in the past. Using their records, they were able to prepare the changes in a short amount of ti.
The school’s policies had always shifted with the disposition of the current Student Council President. The previous year, under Phantassos, the council had stuck to the old rules to crush the three major clubs that were attempting to manipulate things from behind the scenes. Now, with only Noble remaining, Simon had the freedom to forge a new path.
With the booths confird, a massive construction project erupted in the first-year central plaza. Students, servants, and even hired workers from off-campus sward the area, erecting booths and hanging banners. So clubs were content with simple awnings, while others built elaborate sets or even installed full cooking stations. The air filled with the clamor of hamrs and saws.
Being a necromancy school, the scene was punctuated by the bizarre sight of undead skeletons hauling lumber and steel beams. Colorful pennant flags fluttered above the booths while balloons and banners adorned the walls. First-years on their way to class could only gawk, their eyes wide with curiosity.
Ti passed, and on the eve of the weekend, the club season officially began.
"WOOHOO!"
An enormous crowd flooded the plaza. First-year students sward everywhere, eagerly exploring the booths. It was the one ti of year when seniors let their guard down. Second-years in mascot costus handed out flyers, while others sported ridiculous makeup. Simon and Dick were also there, inspecting the grounds.
"Isn’t this... a little excessive?" Simon asked with a smile, scratching the side of his head. Instead of a simple booth, one club had constructed a massive artificial cave, like sothing out of an amusent park. A sign out front read . Next to it, the athletics club was stoking the competitive spirit of the male students with a punching machine that echoed with loud ’thwacks’ and ’pows’.
"Sohow, it’s even more spectacular than last year."
"You’re the one who lit the fire, Simon," Dick chuckled. "With the budget now tied more closely to mbership numbers, they’re all pulling out the stops."
"Hmm."
As Simon casually surveyed the scene, he realized a war had already broken out.
"Not interested in the flight club?"
"Join the transformation club!"
"Real n join the physique club!"
The competition to recruit new mbers was fierce. First-years looked utterly overwheld as swarms of seniors descended upon them.
’But for so reason...’ Simon crossed his arms, a dry laugh escaping his lips. ’It feels like there are more second-years here than first-years.’
"Hey, guys!"
Just then, irin and Kamibarez ca running over, clutching stacks of files.
"We have a problem!" irin announced.
With a look that said, ’I knew it’, Dick tugged his student council armband higher on his sleeve. "Let’s go."
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