Classroom of the Elite: Checkmate

Chapter 34 - Trap

"Is it still fun, Morofuji?"

Anger, disgust, and ridicule tainted my unrecognizable voice.

The feral tremors of her delicate body intensified as I emptied the last bottle over the covered area on the girl's face. Her desperate yet futile attempts to shift her quivering torso to the side ended in failure because of my foot, which pressed her frame against the uneven ground, restricting her movements.

Horrendous, barely muffled screams resounded through the machine room while the excess water mixed with the yellow-greenish puddle. Manabe and Yajima kept their heads down and ran their tongues over the greasy floor to suck up their sickening vomit, instead of aiding their cherished friend.

These spineless worms filled my heart with contempt.

Just a few minutes ago, they enjoyed themselves at my expense — tortured me with wicked smiles and hollow, disfigured expressions to rouse the dreadful memories that haunted me to this day. But now they were too scared to glance at her when she begged them for help, terrified that they would be the next ones to suffer if they weren't obedient.

"Pathetic insects..."

The leg that pinned Morofuji to the deck rose, confusing the bug beneath it. Contrary to my previous thoughts, she didn't get up, nor did she struggle to break free. Maybe she predicted the reason for this sudden generosity and felt the vicious glare in my eyes deepen. A soft, estranged snicker rolled off my curved lips as I drove my shoe into her exposed abdomen.

None of you deserve my sympathy.

Not even the bare minimum of mercy.

You put me through the same hell.

It's only fair to return the favor.

♙♘♗♖♕♔ 🄲🅷🄴🅲🄺🅼🄰🆃🄴 ♚♛♜♝♞♟

My precious gyaru pushed the lingering doubts about her newfound conviction aside and waterboarded her schoolmate for fifteen excruciating minutes. She ignored the prepared scenario and taunted the group by using their own tasteless remarks against them. Her delightful smile widened with each cry of anguish she stripped Morofuji's quivering lips.

Hirata would have been shocked by her cruelty.

He could never comprehend the anxiety, the sorrow and the resentment she carried within her, despite his familiarity with the depravity of men. His pacifistic approach stemmed from the deep regrets about his past and the decisions he made in junior high. The intent behind his actions was pure, but the execution left much to be desired.

Unlike him, I marveled at her adaptability.

Her countenance improved the more she mistreated Manabe and her friends. The initial discomfort and her reluctance to pressure the Class C students into the repulsive substance warped into a bizarre acceptance as she began to convince herself that her conduct around these monstrosities was unavoidable after all the injustice she had endured.

The duration of the wretched girl's misfortune was only a fraction of what my parasite went through, but the qualitative differences in their approaches couldn't have been more distinct. Our victim sustained severe psychological damages due to the military grade torture she employed, which must have felt like hours of nonstop misery.

An untrained receiver — a mere teenager — wasn't equipped with the necessary mindset to survive such horrors without leaving permanent scarring that was impossible to recover from. The crumbling fragments of her tattered psyche broke apart and led to further deterioration of her already unstable mental condition.