Harem Sync: Divine Edition

Chapter 115: .Meritocracy...

The room was dark except for the center, a single lantern on the U-shaped table, teachers seated around it like shadows with faces.

Eugen was standing in the only lit spot, because that was where he wanted to be.

He was wearing a robe similar to that of the Custodians and armor. Something in between the two. White fabric with discreet gold embroidery, the symbol of the Cathedral.

"Regular coins are noise," he said. "And noise attracts Gamers."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, subtly, but Eugen felt it. He saw it. The shoulders of two teachers stiffening slightly. A female teacher stopping her note-taking.

Father Elias, in the corner, pushed his chair back; his expression hadn’t changed, but it was different from the expression he’d had five seconds earlier.

"Everyone who hasn’t been marked as a Gamer has this." Eugen took out the Custodians’ coin. "Everyone here in this room has it. We have proof, for now, that we aren’t those aberrations."

No one disagreed. No one agreed out loud.

"Eldrath’s problem isn’t a lack of talent." He continued walking, hands behind his back, slow steps, the voice of someone who had prepared every sentence. "It’s a lack of visibility. Work gets done. No one sees it. Merit exists. No one proves it."

He stopped.

"Ordinary coins can be circumvented, counterfeited, stolen, transferred through favoritism." He lifted the Custodians’ coin. "Not this one."

He pressed lightly on its center.

A magical hologram opened in the air, precision alchemy. Numbers floating in gold: name, ID, balance.

Eugen’s own balance.

Silence in the room.

"Each coin is linked to the bearer’s spiritual identity," he explained. "Impossible to counterfeit because a soul cannot be copied."

A teacher leaned forward.

"What if someone learns to lie with this?"

Eugen looked directly at her.

"Then we’ll know who the most dangerous ones are."

..

"And in Eldrath..." she said softly, "...the most dangerous ones are exactly who we want here."

He walked to the center of the table.

"If Eldrath’s meritocracy is based on this principle—that only real work yields real results—then this coin is not a payment system," he said. "It is a mirror; it shows who each person truly is when no one is looking."

He placed his coin on the table with a small, precise clink.

"Astraeus Eldrath did not build this academy to train obedient soldiers," he said. "He built it to train dangerous, intelligent, adaptable, unpredictable people."

He looked around.

"Are we honoring that vision? Or turning Eldrath into a kindergarten with swords?"

Father Elias, in the corner, didn’t change his expression, but he closed the book he was holding.

No one voted against it.

...

Morning courtyard

"So..." the head usher stopped mid-sentence and looked at the group. "Did you guys get that?"

Silence.

"Did anyone get that?"

"Can you explain it again?" asked the dwarf Valdrof, his voice that of someone who slept poorly and isn’t ashamed of it.

"Valdrof."

"Sir."

"Have you been drinking?"

"...Yes... sir."

"That’s why you’re having trouble hearing... I’m proud of you, drink more..."

The headmaster took a deep breath.

"What did you think this place was? Your parents’ house?" he said. "The initiation is over. The academy is really getting started now. So pay attention because I won’t repeat this a fourth time."

On the other side of the academy, in the women’s wing, the student in charge was saying the same thing to another group, in a softer voice, but with the same information.

"First." The head raised a finger. "Starting tomorrow, each student will have a specific activity. Every two weeks the activities will change; you can choose to stay in one permanently, but the supervisors will evaluate whether it’s worth entrusting that work to you permanently. In other cases, the supervisor may make you permanent without asking."

In the women’s wing: "But I heard that the men’s wing has been working on activities for days already..."

"They’re men. The rules say that activities begin when officially announced."

"Is that fair?"

"Well... they preferred it that way."

"Second." The head raised another finger. "Limits. There’s a lot to say about this, so let’s skip to what matters."

"Third..." he stopped speaking and looked at Haru... "Haru, go get your coin."

"Huh... my coin!? My coin!" he exclaimed, feeling around

"Damn it, I never know where that damn thing is. "I’ll be right back." Haru ran off, faster and faster.

"Moving on. Third..." the boss took his coin from the Custodians and placed it on the makeshift crate table. "I think each of you has one of these."

..

"I don’t think. I’m sure."

He explained, more briefly than Eugen had the night before, but sufficiently:

The balance is linked to your spiritual identity. It cannot be forged. It cannot be transferred without consent. It accumulates through actual work. You can buy almost anything within the academy—better meals, larger rooms, equipment, access to restricted areas, information, private lessons.

It’s the basis of merit here.

The students in the women’s wing took out their coins and pressed the center.

Holograms opened.

Balance: 000. "We can buy meat!!!" Kira was the only one to ask a question.

.

"What if someone lies about having worked?"

"There’s no way. I don’t know exactly how—I don’t know much about alchemy. But lying to the coin is like lying to the Crystal of Truth. It knows."

The boss took a scroll and instructed everyone to touch their coin to it.

Immediate payment for the period of service.

One by one, they pressed their coins against it. The scroll glowed faintly with each touch, recording and transferring the payment.

Haru was returning from getting his coin from the room when he arrived; he touched his to the scroll.

The scroll glowed.

Everyone began checking their balances...

"Hey." A student looked over. "Look at Haru. He has more than us."

"Way more."

"Hey boss, weren’t we supposed to all get the same amount?"

"No." The boss said bluntly. "Meritocracy, remember? If my memory serves me right, Haru is the resident student with the most points here in the entire academy."

"Huh?" Haru exclaimed... "But he said resident student, so that means there’s an external student with more"

"Are you saying he worked harder?"

"Yes." The boss looked at the scroll. "Before they handed out these coins, they asked me which of the apprentices had worked the hardest... so I went around asking the others which apprentice they’d seen cleaning... everyone said black hair and a bandage on the right arm."

Everyone looked at Haru, the only one with a bandage there.

"So are you responsible for how much we get?"

"Yes and no. Besides me, there are devices that will be distributed; you tap the coin against them, and it automatically records the work done."

"So it’s like telling the thing: ’I worked here.’"

"More or less."

"What if I scan it without having worked?"

"There’s no way to do that."

"But what if I lie and say I did another activity..."

"You can’t lie to the coin," the boss said patiently. "It records what you did, not what you say you did."

Thoughtful silence.

"Are there activities that pay more?"

The boss didn’t answer this time.

"Wait." A guy raised his hand. "We weren’t required by regulation to come here as orderlies. We came because the veterans would beat us up if we didn’t."

The boss remained silent.

"So... does our day as orderlies end here? Because tomorrow the official activity lists for each of us will be released?"

A longer silence.

One by one, they began to leave, without ceremony, without a formal goodbye. Some waved to the boss. Others simply walked out.

Three remained.

The boss looked around at the courtyard that had been filled with orange a week ago, now almost empty on a cold morning.

"Uji," the boss called to the half-rhino beastskin standing nearby. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I want to go to the brothel with my boss more often," he replied without hesitation. "I thought it was fun."

"Valdrof." The dwarf on the other side. "Why are you still here?"

"Well..." Valdrof scratched his beard. "I don’t know yet, I guess it’s because my boss doesn’t care if I show up drunk or not."

"Haru."

"Boobs." Haru replied. "Boobs, sir."

The boss stared at him for a moment.

Then he looked away.

"My boys," he said quietly, without irony this time.

"All right, then I’ll speak with the head of your wing to let them know that you’ve decided to stay here as permanent staff for the next few days."

Haru raised his hand.

"I want to be a permanent staff member," Haru said. "Do I have what it takes, sir?"

The headmaster stared at him for a long time, then turned his back.

"Get to cleaning."

Meanwhile, at the Genials residence.

The butler returned from his inspection with the look of someone who had seen something he’d rather not have seen.

He stood still at the door.

"Sir."

"How many?" Genius said without looking up from his book.

"You have more points than the entire third year."

"How many exactly?"

The butler consulted the paper and gave the number.

Genius slowly lowered his book and looked at the butler.

"That’s a mistake."

"It isn’t, sir."

"The installation was anonymous."

"The donation was anonymous, sir. The work itself was recorded by the currency during execution."

Genius stared at the ceiling. "The currency records what you do, not what you say you did."

"So while I was installing electricity anonymously..."

"...it was paying me in real time."

"That’s a problem; I’ll donate everything and end up with nothing..."

"W

hy!? sir."

"Cracked games aren’t fun," he said, going back to reading.