Chaos Mate ~Revenge In This Chaotic Academy~ - Chapter 66: Return to the Origin

Chapter 66: Return to the Origin

I remembered an email from long ago.

When I started investigating Kikuchi’s murder, I got an email signed “UNKNOWN.”

I thought it was from Sumeragi Reine, but that left questions.

My email address was registered when I transferred, so the Scarlet Phantom, controlling the academy, would’ve known it.

Why use a letter then?

It’s simple, maybe careless, but the email was likely from Jack, using the letter to throw me off.

How did I miss such an obvious possibility?

Not knowing the sender made me overthink.

I assumed they wouldn’t do something like this.

Once the solution clicked, it was easy.

Lesta quickly traced the email’s owner.

As expected, it wasn’t Reine.

First-year C-Class, Kanaki Rentarou.

He’s the key to getting closer to Jack.

At Kanaki’s C-Class apartment room, the door’s carelessly open.

Inside, a 1LDK, a passed-out guy is tied to a chair in the center.

Next to him, a pumpkin mask.

A note on white loose-leaf is taped to its forehead:

To my dear lord, the next head of the Tsubaki family,

I present the one you sought. Use him effectively.

Shadow

Shadow again. Probably an ally, but a mysterious figure who never shows themselves.

Calling me “lord”… We’ve never met, so it’s awkward.

More importantly, this out-of-season mask confirms Kanaki was Jack-o-Lantern.

Likely one of Jack’s subordinates.

On the bed, five or six guys in leather suits are tied up, unconscious.

“…Finally found you. All conditions cleared.”

Looking down at the pitiful pumpkin, I smirk wickedly.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call BC.

“…Hey, BC… Yeah, everything’s set. Three days from now, execute the plan I emailed.”

※

Souna Side

What sister could refuse her cute brother’s request? Not me, at least.

If Madoka said he wanted to conquer the world, I’d have no qualms facing the globe.

As student council president, protecting students is part of the job, so being used for my brother’s plan to stop this murder game? No complaints. I’m a great sister, right?

Still, he maxed out my authority as president. I’ve been swamped.

Three days later, morning, I’ve prepped everything, roped in the broadcast club, and gathered all first-years left in the academy in the gym. Cameras are set, filming me.

Standing on a black platform, I lean into the mic.

“Hey, everyone~! Student Council President Sakurada Souna here~!”

My sudden bright smile and greeting stir the first-years into a noisy buzz.

How many Scarlet Phantom operatives are in this crowd?

I want to spot them from this vantage point, seeing the whole picture.

“Alright, everyone, zip it for a sec~! Big sis has important news~! It’s about your lives. You’re all stuck in a creepy game by some weirdo in the academy, not knowing when you’ll die, right? Scary stuff. I feel you.”

Mentioning the Mandatory Word Game, the gym falls silent instantly.

“The council’s been working on this, but we haven’t found the culprit. However, we’ve got a strategy to beat the game. Say the word, you get points but might kill someone. Don’t, you lose points and risk expulsion. Complaining to teachers or us doesn’t help—the situation’s too big. Wouldn’t it be nice to reduce the risk of death, even a bit?”

The first-years, hooked, glance between their wristbands and me.

No one sane wants to die—natural reaction.

Signaling Mao at a laptop far off, a screen lowers behind me.

“Here’s the simple, win-win answer: no deaths, no expulsion. The game tests mental strength and reasoning. In terrifying situations, your brain freezes, right? That’s the blind spot. Like struggling with a tricky question under stress. If you clearly understood the academy’s rules, no one would’ve died. The answer is this!!”

The screen displays a sentence, and most first-years’ eyes widen.

It’s just this simple, ridiculous thing:

“Keep your ability points above 500. Prove your strength and earn points!!”

Seeing the strategy, the first-years murmur, confused.

Of course. Even I didn’t get it at first when Madoka explained.

No one thinks following the academy’s rules purely would prevent death—so simple it feels impossible.

Then, as the saying goes, proof over argument. Let’s proceed as planned.

Ignoring the shouting crowd—“That’s BS!” “Don’t mock us!”—I signal Mao to switch the screen.

My beloved brother appears.

“Uh, we’re now live with Tsubaki Madoka-kun, the mastermind behind this strategy~! Can you hear me, Madoka-kun~?”

Checking my earpiece mic, Madoka nods on-screen.

“Tsubaki Madoka here. I’m about to prove what you need to survive the Mandatory Word Game. …If you don’t want to die, don’t look away, no matter what you see.”

Madoka moves deeper into a room, where a short-haired male student, left hand and legs tied to a chair, eyes covered by a white cloth, is shown.

“Madoka-kun~? Who’s that student~?”

“Someone tied to the game’s starter, but to keep him safe from mob justice, I’ll hide his identity. Let’s call him J-kun.”

“Got it~! What’s next~?”

Madoka shows his wristband.

“I’ll say the word sent to me to J-kun. Perfect timing—it’s a death-related word you’re all scared of. Watch what he does after.”

He stands over J-kun, saying, “Die, you jerk.”

The gym crowd braces for the tragedy to come.

On-screen, J-kun groans, his unbound right hand writhing like an octopus, grabbing his neck.

He squeezes, strangling himself.

“Gah! …Gagh!!”

Tears stream from under J-kun’s blindfold, saliva dripping from his mouth.

The gruesome sight makes some in the gym wince, others cover their mouths, fighting nausea.

I feel the same, but a stronger, darker emotion overshadows it.

Sadness.

Not for J-kun, but for Madoka.

His eyes, looking down, seem accustomed to death.

An expressionless, near-absolute-zero gaze.

Is it Madoka’s, or the Ice Queen’s? I can’t tell.

But when J-kun chokes out, “Da… suge… de…!!” in a voiceless cry, Madoka snaps awake, yanks J-kun’s hand from his neck, and punches his stomach, knocking him out.

“As you saw… or as most know, the person doesn’t want to die but their body tries to kill itself. To stop it: knock them out before they die. Or, keep your points high.”

Here’s the critical part.

I need to focus.

“High points… What’s the basis?”

“Every suicide victim had one thing in common: points below 500. That’s the threshold. Another concern: point deductions vary per person.”

“You figured that out too?”

“There’s a pattern. More points mean smaller deductions; fewer points, larger ones.”

Madoka shows his phone’s point total.

“Proof: my 25,000 points, five days into the game, no words said, dropped only about 5,000. Deductions grow daily, but it’s still minor. High points increase survival odds. I don’t feel the right-hand pain from not saying words—likely a hypnotic poison needle.”

His explanation, convincing, eases the crowd’s fear slightly.

“One more time: keep points high, or you die. The rest is up to you. …That good, Kaichou?”

“Yup~! We’ll take it from here. Strategy’s clear, so we’re done! Thanks for listening, everyone~!”

Waving the first-years out, I call Mao.

“Mao, anyone react suspiciously?”

“Yes, Kaichou. …Things are going as Madoka planned. I’m stunned. How far ahead does he see?”

Mao mutters with a wry smile, and I giggle.

“He’s special. I told you: don’t judge him by normal standards. Tsubaki Madoka’s my little brother.”