For all my talk about setting traps and retaliation, at the end of the day, my sister and I were still students.
Technically, I was a special ensign now, so you could say I was a full-fledged soldier. But socially, I was nothing more than a sixteen-year-old kid. No matter how much I puffed myself up, I was just another expendable brat to those backed by real social clout.
…Which was exactly the opening I planned to exploit against anyone dumb enough to try coming after me.
From the outside, the Third Division seemed like a faction that had failed time and again. Losing their highest-ranking members hadn’t made their family fortunes vanish overnight, so they still had money, but that wealth had only mattered because its owners used to have clout in the military. Now that the Third Division’s influence was gone, however, all they were going to do was burn through their inheritance.
They probably only had a few years left at most. But that was precisely why they were so desperate to claw their way back.
My plan was to take advantage of that desperation and lay a trap. The real problem was that I had no idea how the more influential members, who would end up losing underlings or even their own children in my trap, would react.
Personally, I doubted they would raise a fuss if someone got hurt, but my sister had a different take.
“You’re expecting them to tell the truth, but what if they just lie and say they didn’t do anything and that you attacked them? If something happens, they’ll try to pin it on you.”
It was a fair point.
Even if they were on the decline, the Third Division still had power and money. Compared with them, someone like me, who had nothing, was an easy target.
If they got bent out of shape because they’d lost people, would they really play fair, even if it was their own fault? I had to admit, the chances of that going smoothly were extremely low.
If they came at me with brute force, fine. I could respond in kind. But if they decided to use social pressure or backdoor politics, then I would be cornered easily. My only remaining option would be the scorched-earth approach—ambushing them in the dark and going down with them.
Dying that way didn’t bother me, but it would leave my sister burdened with the shame of being related to a criminal. I couldn’t let that happen.
So I asked myself, what was the root of this problem?
Yeah. I don’t even need to think about it.
It was the people from the Third Division. They were the problem. In other words, if they were gone, everything would be fine.
As Sun Tzu once said, the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
My goal wasn’t to trap and defeat them—it was to stop them from trying to harass me in the first place.
If they would just quit being petty and leave me alone, no one would get hurt. Simple. And I did have a few acquaintances in the Third Division whom I got along with pretty well.
“So I was wondering…is there any way to make sure I don’t get attacked by anyone from the Third Division?” I asked.
“…That’s a strange question to spring on someone out of nowhere,” Muto responded with a troubled look.
She and I had gotten to know each other well enough over the past few months that we could chat casually. Also, she was from the Third Division.
Saori Muto had entered the academy with the highest score in our year, so she probably had some sway. If she put her foot down, then she might be able to stop our classmates, at least.
Personally, I thought it was a win-win idea with no downside for her, but her reaction was underwhelming.
What if she’s on their side?
“You just said you’d kill anyone who falls into your traps and that you were willing to sacrifice yourself to ambush them. Then you ask for a favor? Even Saori would take issue with that.”
As I was wondering whether I needed to take serious action, Isotani, who had been listening nearby, chimed in to back Muto up.
“Is that how it is?”
“That’s exactly how it is.”
“…Yeah. I can see that.”
I couldn’t argue there.