Iruki aced the sciences but provoked his literature teacher, Adelria, with this answer:
The question cited poet Guilberto's Falling Leaves in Zigzags, asking why the leaves fell that way.
Most students wrote about "fear of death."
Iruki's answer?
[Document] The varying air resistance acting on the leaf's surface (here, gas) creates differential fluid velocities, causing movement along the resultant force vector of applied pressure.
(See attached equations using standard leaf model.)
The rest was an indecipherable string of symbols.
Other teachers shrugged it off, but Adelria stormed in, slamming the exam on his desk.
"Iruki! What is this?"
"My exam."
"Not the paper—your answer! This is literature, not math!"
"Isn't dividing math and literature just proving literature's artificiality?"
Adelria's face turned beet red.
"You think you're so clever? You're a student. Acting like a scholar takes years! Some truths can't be defined by math!"
"Teacher, no such truths exist. If the world were illogical, how could we live? Our faces might explode any second."
"So everything is logical? Even Guilberto's poetry?"
"Of course. Hence my answer."
Adelria jabbed a finger.
"Then answer this: A thousand innocent people will die unless you kill one. What do you choose?"
"Let the thousand die. One life ≠ a thousand mathematically. The equation was flawed from the start."
She suppressed her fury.
"Does God exist? Answer!"
"Non-existence is possible."
Her rage peaked.
"Your mom or dad—pick one!"
"Momndad."
"Get. Out."
Her fingers trembled.
"Out, you brat! You don't deserve my class!"
A faculty meeting followed.
They ruled Iruki's answers mocked authority and zeroed all his humanities grades.
"Wow… That's insane."
Shirone couldn't believe Iruki was his age.
Defying teachers took guts, but getting away with it as a student? Unthinkable.
"Haha! Told you. He's impossible to befriend."
"I get why he called me 'boring.' But how was that a compliment?"
"Who knows? Maybe he saw something different in you. That's why I introduced you—thought you two might click."
Shirone's curiosity grew.
Should I talk to him more?
As he glanced around, his eyes widened.
"Neid, look."
Iruki was trudging toward the Image Zone, students parting like he was a walking disaster.
Not out of dislike—more like anticipation.
Neid grimaced.
"Dammit! What's he planning now? Let's go."
They arrived as classmates gathered.
"Iruki's at it again. Think he'll strip and lie down like last time?"
Shirone was baffled.
Stripping in front of girls? The more he learned, the less sense Iruki made.
But this time, Iruki entered the Spirit Zone normally.
A 15-meter sphere—small for Class Five, but size wasn't the point.
"Separation Form?"
The moment Iruki activated Quadrant Style, his Spirit Zone detached from his body.
"Whoa, he's doing it!"
"Shouldn't we stop him? Ethela banned him from the Image Zone."
"Let him be. You think he'd listen?"
The Zone darted around, nearly unchanged from its initial state.
As everyone marveled, Iruki smirked at Shirone—then snapped his fingers.
Targets burst forth, fluttering like birds.
Summoning them solo was forbidden, so some sighed—but most were riveted.
"Whoa…"
The detached Spirit Zone chased them, bending angles like a rubber ball, its speed breathtaking.
Shirone was genuinely impressed.
This is incredible.
Such movement was impossible without complete mental detachment.
Then Ethela, overseeing Class Four, noticed and rushed over.
"Iruki! What are you doing?"
But Iruki was already focusing—his Spirit Zone swallowing a target.
Light bubbled like foam.
"You maniac!"
Students flinched as the explosion hit—
"Atomic Boom."
—blasting some off their feet.
"Ghk!"
Shirone lowered his arm, spotting Iruki at the Zone's edge, hands behind his back.
"See you later, Shirone."
What does that mean?
More pressingly—why would he do this?
Before Shirone could ponder, Ethela dragged Iruki by the ear.
"Iruki! One more stunt like this, and you're expelled!"
"Owow! I calibrated the blast! You know what happens if I really try!"
"No remorse?! One-week suspension! No classes!"
"Nooo! That's tyranny!"
Yet even as he wailed, Iruki grinned at Shirone and Neid.
"Ugh! He did it again. Shirone, sorry—gotta go."
As Neid chased after him, Shirone stood frozen.
Explosion Magic.
The most extreme form of energy manipulation.
The other students buzzed, equally stunned.
"He's scary good. His reaction speed's faster, but the blast's the same."
"Servant Syndrome for you. He calculates reaction formulas flawlessly."
Shirone cut in.
"Reaction formulas?"
"Yeah. They dictate explosion power. Like combustion in flame magic, but different."
"With that power, who needs flame magic?"
"Nah, the applications differ. Only Iruki can pull this off—normally, explosions take way longer to trigger. He'd need more time for bigger blasts too. Shortening that is an Explosion Mage's goal."
"Hmm."
Shirone analyzed.
Resetting omnipotence in a high-speed detached Spirit Zone was like accounting for variables in teleportation.
I rely on instinct…
But Iruki used Servant Syndrome's calculations.
Explosion Magic is undeniably strong.
Its biggest advantage? Concentrated, wide-range devastation.
Detached Spirit Zones shrink with distance. This magic's optimized for that.
But it's destructive.
Iruki's talent, his Spirit Zone's nature, his specialty—everything revolved around explosions…
Shirone's Thoughts: Why is Neid friends with someone like that?
He had enjoyed reading The War History of Mages, but he didn't believe magic had to be inherently destructive.
I've never learned magic with the intent to harm anyone.
Though he was curious about Iruki, Shirone doubted they could ever become close.
Whether Iruki had truly been suspended or not, he didn't show up to class.
While it was unfortunate for Iruki, Shirone couldn't help but feel relieved.
If we meet again, I wouldn't even know what to say.
After an ordinary day passed, Shirone took his first official evaluation in Class Five.
His average score: 41 points.
Still in the lower ranks, but improving every subject by 10 points in a month was no easy feat.
The next day, students checked their results, packed their bags, and stretched with satisfaction.
Student A: "Phew, looks like we can relax for a while. Wanna grab some snacks and head to the research club?"
Student B: "Sure. I don't know if it's the relief, but I'm starving."
Students left in small groups for their clubs, but Shirone still didn't belong to one.
I should go to the library and study more. Even so, an average in the 40s…
Though not ideal, the process of fleshing out his foundational knowledge was progressing smoothly.
Most encouraging was how quickly his understanding was connecting—far faster than expected.
This is proof that my knowledge network is evolving. Stay steady and keep pushing forward.
The fact that he had already finished twenty books borrowed just a week ago gave him courage.
Girl Student: "Hey, Shirone."
Shirone: "Hm?"
A girl approached as he packed his bag. In the corner of the classroom, her friends watched with keen interest.
Shirone: "What's up? Did you want to talk about something?"
Girl Student: "Yeah. We discussed it, and… would you like to join our research club? We're studying matter-transportation magic, and we think you'd really elevate our progress. It's also closely related to photon magic."
Shirone: "Ah."
He considered it seriously.
Since advancing to Class Five, he'd received a few invitations, but this was the first one that aligned with his interests.
Membership was entirely voluntary, and joining wouldn't be a waste of time.
The school's evaluations were divided into practical exams, theory exams, and performance assessments.
For the latter, students had to submit one research paper between semesters on a topic of their choice—joining a club would make that easier.
Most students handled their assessments this way, then spent vacations visiting home or reinforcing weak areas.
Shirone had even looked up entry requirements for a few clubs himself.
Beyond academics, studying with like-minded friends seemed fun.
But in the end, he gave up.
His foundational knowledge wasn't solid enough yet—half-hearted participation might do more harm than good.
Some clubs invited him based on reputation, but he wasn't confident he could keep up with their pace.
Shirone: "I'm not sure. I'm already focused on another field, and I haven't made progress yet. I'll need to devote my time there for now."
Girl Student: "Oh, I see. Well, that's too bad."
Shirone: "Sorry for turning you down after you went out of your way to ask."
Girl Student: "Haha, no worries! It's fine. Just let us know if you change your mind later."
She smiled warmly and returned to her friends.
By Class Five, most students were mature enough not to act on emotions—though exceptions like Iruki certainly existed.
The sound of the girl's group laughing cheerfully in the hallway reached Shirone.
Must be nice. They're having fun.