~Chapter 52~ Part 2
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"I must disagree with the assessment of my esteemed colleague," stated a certain annoying placeholder by my side. "The chart says that Mrs. Applebottom's stocks among the male populace show a steady increase regardless of outside factors."

"Humbug!" Mr. Spiky dismissed his bowl-cut-haired… friend? Were they friends? Did I even care?

"As we are all aware, the maximum amount of popularity among the eligible boys within our school is a finite resource," Mr. Bedhair added while completely disregarding the basketball that was heading towards his face. While watching the impact would've been admittedly pretty amusing, my better judgment still made me reach out and pull him out of the way, so that the ball harmlessly bounced off the wall and back into the hand of one of the players. I knew better than to expect thanks, but the way Mr. Bedhair continued to speak without even acknowledging what happened made me just a tad miffed anyway. "Since that is the case, it logically follows that an increase in the popularity of one of the Goddesses would necessarily mean a decrease of overall popularity the other Goddesses receive."

"Yes, that makes perfect sense," the fourth amigo, whom I dubbed Mr. Crew Cut, agreed with exactly four measured nods, and I could barely stifle the groan that attempted to escape my throat.

At the moment we were right around the middle of the PE class. Once I cleared things up with Mrs. Applebottom, I was told to sit by the sidelines in the indoor gymnasium while the rest of the boys formed three teams and started playing streetball on one side of the court. The girls, unusually enough, were doing the same thing on the other side.

Speaking of which, I originally wanted to move over to their side, as both Judy and Elly ended up in the same team and so I wanted to cheer for my girlfriends. Josh was playing in both the first and second rounds, meaning that for the time being I couldn't talk strategy with him even if I wanted to, yet misfortune struck my plans down before I could even get up from my seat, and it came in the form of the four woodenly enthusiastic bozos surrounding me.

I mean, there's nothing wrong with being wooden, considering they were placeholders and all, but for Pete's sake, they could at least talk about something other than torrents of exposition about terribly inconsequential popularity politics!

"Tell us, Leo. What's your opinion on the matter?"

I was momentarily startled by Mr. Spiky suddenly addressing me, but before I could form a coherent response, I was cut off by Mr. Bowl Cut letting out a melodramatic huff.

"As we are all aware, Leonard is too deeply invested with the Five Goddesses to provide us with an unbiased opinion." I wanted to ask if it was so, then why they even talked to me in the first place, but then Mr. Bowl Cut faced me directly and began to vomit out yet another torrent of words by telling me, "You're a transfer student who lives alone. As we all know, you're currently dating Eleanor and you're the brother of Neige. It is well known that you're also friends with both Angeline and Amelia, and it is no secret that—"

"Argh! Stop, stop!" I burst out as I could no longer hold back my indignation and I shared my most witheringest glare between the four scarcely animate annoyances. "Do you plan to drive me crazy by reciting exposition at me, or do you guys have something actually useful to say?"

The four of them froze up in a familiar display, which only lasted for a second and a half before they shared an uncertain glance between the four of them. At the end of the day, it was Mr. Bedhair who cleared his throat and, after a short beat, got around to explain himself.

"I believe this is common knowledge," he began and immediately earned another scowl for his trouble. He paused again, and then he tentatively continued with, "On the other hand, considering Leo's circumstances, it's very understandable that he may have never heard of The Gathering."

There was a short spell of meaningful silence, as if the word itself had some kind of power to it.

"Ah, yes… The Gathering," Mr. Crew Cut echoed him in a slow, ever so slightly overdramatic voice, which was quite an achievement considering these guys were still talking like community theater actors.

"Indeed… The Gathering!" Mr. Spiky followed up with even more gusto, and it was around this point that I had enough of them.

"Okay, I got it. It's a thing. Would any of you care to explain what it actually is and what it has to do with me?" I pressed on even though I was fairly sure it couldn't be anything good. Or sensible. Or sane…

"The Gathering is a quarterly event dedicated to the Five Goddesses," Mr. Bedhair enlightened me, and I let out another involuntary groan in response.

"Of course it is…" I whispered under my breath, and the four of them nodded in unison as if it was a statement rather than a plea for mercy.

"Naturally," Mr. Spiky spoke up with mild enthusiasm. "As we're all… I mean, as most of us are aware, it's when the most dedicated followers of the Goddesses come together in secret to share their love for their idols. Therefore, it's called the 'The Gathering'."

"So… it's like a tiny underground expo for…" I almost said 'stalkers', but I decided to soften it to, "… fans."

"Precisely," Mr. Spiky confirmed with a series of nods.

"It's also the time when the representatives of the Statistics and Journalism clubs share the quarterly rankings," Mr. Crew Cut added.

"Uh-huh… For the record, how many 'fans' are we talking about?"

"The numbers differ from session to session, but generally speaking, just enough people to fit into the empty social sciences classroom," Mr. Bedhair informed me. "The meetings are held there after school."

"And as we all know, the next meeting is going to be tomorrow!" Mr. Spiky chimed in. "Since we've already said this much, I believe it is time to invite Leonard to The Gathering!"

"Are you out of your mind?" Mr. Bowl Cut cut in, and contrary to his harsh words, his tone was disturbingly mild. "Leo is already in a relationship, and with one of the Goddesses to boot! As we're all acutely aware, only single men who wish to adore the Goddesses from afar may be permitted entrance to The Gathering!"

"That's correct," Mr. Bedhair doubled down. "The only exception is Joshua Bernstein, who had been banned in advance from all of the The Gatherings due to his monopolization of the Goddesses."

"You're correct. I'm ashamed," Mr. Spiky stated in a not at all ashamed tone, though at this point it would've been weirder if any of their stated emotions matched their tone. "I simply hoped that by bringing Leonard along, he could vouch for the authenticity of the displayed artifacts of Neige."

"Oh, that's a highly valid reason, yet the rules are the rules," Mr. Bedhair stated, yet before he could continue, I quickly cut in.

"Did you just say 'artifacts'?"

"Yes indeed," Mr. Spiky declared while he puffed out his chest for some inexplicable reason.

"What kind of artifacts are we talking about?" I pressed on as I latched onto the unexpected keyword, and after sharing a glance between each other, it was Mr. Bowl Cut who came forward to give me an answer.

"As everyone here already knows, during the The Gathering, there is the much-anticipated auction, where the admirers of the Goddesses can acquire their artifacts, collected by the tireless efforts of the collaboration between the Photography Club and the groundkeepers. They are all treasures, and we all get a chance to get our hands on one of them. Why, during the last The Gathering, I successfully managed to gain the ownership of a well-timed photo of Mrs. Applebottom showing no less than two square centimeters' worth of panties. They were black."

"A truly mature color," Mr. Crew Cut agreed with the kind of gravitas one would reserve for inspecting fine art.

"It's the centerpiece of my collection," Mr. Bowl Cut proudly declared, and it was only at this point that my brain finally managed to digest the insanity unfolding in front of me, so I tentatively asked them:

"Just for the records, are all of these 'artifacts' voyeur photos like that?"

"Naturally not," Mr. Bedhair told me just a smidgen smugly. "There are also material artifacts, such as successfully recovered plastic utensils used by the Goddesses, used tissues, or various lost articles recovered by the groundkeepers."

"Oh, great…" I groaned under my breath as I closed my eyes and began to massage my temple.

This whole conversation was a little creepy to begin with, then the whole 'The Gathering' thing brought it up a notch to 'pretty damn creepy', but this? This was straight-up 'Stop! Abort! Creeper-county ahead!' territory. And yet, there was one more thing I had to ask…

"Does that mean that all of the 'goddesses' would have 'artifacts' on display during 'The Gathering'," I inquired with judicious use of air quotes, and for a change, I found their usage entirely justified.

"Naturally," Mr. Bedhair confirmed with the obliviousness of a deer in front of a speeding rocket-sled. "If the previous The Gatherings are an indication, we can affirm that the auction will have artifacts from all five of them with an exceedingly small margin of error. Why? Are you interested?"

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), it was at this very moment that the sharp sound of a whistle cut our conversation short, and my placeholder companions immediately stood up and walked onto the court without even sparing a single word. It was probably for the best, as I was getting just a wee bit worked up over the sheer amount of 'what is this I don't even' I was bombarded with. It wasn't long after that when Josh finally came off the field and made his way over to my side.

"The other guys are getting better," he stated absently as he sat down beside me. "Now I almost have to try even when you're not on the field."

"That's just rude," I responded just as vaguely as I sent one last glare in the direction of the four amigos lining up for the next round of streetball.

Josh followed my line of sight, and once he figured out what I was looking at he said, "I don't want to pry, but what exactly were you talking about with those guys?"

"Tiresome, infuriating, and mostly inconsequential stuff. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, okay. Then I won't," he stated. When he saw that I wasn't reacting, he glanced around to see if there was anyone in earshot, but then he decided to lean closer into a conspiratorial huddle anyway, probably just to be on the safe side. "So… Can I run the plan by you?"

I took a deep breath to get my temper under control, and only then did I give him the green light.

"I already promised, so sure, go ahead."

My friend audibly gulped and looked about as nervous as is he was taking an oral exam, and I was just getting impatient enough to try and prompt him to get on with it.

"So, your task was to solve an equation where you plus the girls plus a tactic equals one captured Labcoat Guy. Now please make your case and show your work."

"You're not making this any easier with that. You know that, right?" my friend inquired with an annoyed frown, but since he no longer looked nervous, I still considered it mission accomplished, so I only showed him a perfectly friendly smile in response. He breathed out a shallow sigh and, at last, began to explain his plan. "Okay, so here's what I've got: the strategy that we came up with consists of three steps, and it will require all of us, save for you and Judy."

"The last part's a given," I murmured under my nose. Judy was a non-combatant, so she couldn't help much anyway, while I already told them I'd have my attention elsewhere.

"In the first step, Elly, Lily, and I would act as a diversion. The idea is that we make a big show and draw all the Sprockets' attention to us. While this is happening, Angie will scout the Restricted Space for its primary anchor point."

An 'anchor point', as the name implied, was the place where the Purple Zone was tied onto boring old reality, kind of like the stakes of a giant circus tent. Purple Zones, contrary to what one would expect, couldn't be called down all willy-nilly; small ones, like the one that covered the school during the kidnapping incident, would require at least one anchor, while the large-scale stuff that covered multiple blocks, the kind that Labcoat Guy and his mechanical cronies were pulling off, would require several. Once it's set up, anyone who knows the location of the anchor can slip in and out of the Purple Zone without having to rely on complicated spells or brute force.

However, if one actually managed to get into direct contact with the anchor, they can do all sorts of zany stuff with it, like changing the size of the area mimicked by the Purple Zone, closing it and forcefully ejecting everyone inside, or…

"Are you planning to lock down the place so that Labcoat Guy can't escape?"

"Yes, that's the plan," Josh confirmed my educated guess with a nod. "Ammy said that it usually takes a while to gain control over an anchor set up by someone else, but she knows a trick that would give her temporary control."

"Temporary, you say? Are you setting yourself up for a time limit?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little skeptical of this idea.

"More or less," my friend responded a little uncertainly. "Ammy is our expert, and she said that getting control over the anchor the normal way would take too long and Robatto would realize what we were doing and escape."

"Is there a chance that Labcoat Guy will realize what you are doing anyway?"

"Ammy sounded really confident about doing it her way, so I don't think it's likely."

"Plan for it anyway," I told him, and seeing how reluctant he looked, I let out a sigh and explained myself. "Listen up, Josh. When it comes to these things, 'unlikely' is the same as 'pretty damn likely'. If it's a 'one in a million chance', then I can guarantee you that it's going to happen for sure. The best way to work around this is to plan for the worst, and in the best-case scenario, you are only going to be pleasantly surprised by how smoothly everything worked out."

"I… will take that to heart."

"Good," I stated as I directed an appreciative smile at him. "So, part one was the three of you serving as a diversion, part two was about Angie and Ammy finding the anchor and temporarily locking Labcoat Guy in his own trap… what's part three?"

"That's the tricky part," Josh admitted a little dryly, but then he took a deep breath and he clarified things by telling me, "The third stage of the plan is to use Pascal to pin Doctor Robatto down long enough for us to regroup and then capture him. The only problem is that we don't know how to draw him out to do that."

"Can't the class rep just ask him to follow her and have her lead him to the ambush point?" I posited, but Josh immediately shook his head.

"That was my first idea as well, but Ammy says that he doesn't seem to trust her the way he used to. It has something to do with her failing a test or something. I honestly didn't get it."

"It's a long story. Anyhow, that means that using her to draw him in might not work."

"Which, if I follow your advice, means that it definitely won't work," Josh chimed it, and while I could detect a well-concealed jab under his words, I nodded in the affirmative all the same.

"In other words, you need a good reason for him to follow you. A kind of bait, if you will."

"Yes. We couldn't think of one yet so, for the time being, we figured Ammy would give a distress call to him and hope that he would show up in time."

"That's way too vague," I voiced my criticism as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "So vague I would be normally tempted to say you shouldn't rely on him and go back to the drawing board."

"… I can sense a 'but' coming," Josh stated, and he mimicked my posture by crossing his arms as well.

"And you'd be correct, except now I can't do it anymore, because it would be grammatically incorrect."

"When did that ever stop you?"

"A valid question, but kind of irrelevant at the moment," I dismissed him on the spot, and after a deep breath I added, "You're not planning on putting the plan into action today, right?"

"No, of course not. It's nowhere near complete enough, as you graciously pointed out already."

"You're welcome. On a different yet related note, Armband Guy is in the student council, right?"

"In the Disciplinary Committee, but yes, he is," my friend answered a touch apprehensively, obviously uncertain about where I was going with that question.

"Disciplinary Committee, you say? That's even better," I mused as I dramatically rubbed my chin. "Would that mean he would be extra touchy about students breaking regulations?"

"I guess…"

"In that case," I further mused as a wide grin settled onto my face. "Do you want to crash a meeting of such students?"

"Depends. Please elaborate," Josh prompted me.

"It's a gathering of fanboys who trade for upskirt photos of the girls."

"By 'the girls', do you mean 'our' girls?" he inquired with a sudden sense of ferocity in his eyes.

"Yep."

"Where do I sign up?"

"The better question is, do you think Armband Guy would like to sign up too?"

"It's guaranteed," Josh muttered, but then a second of pause later he quickly added, "Or rather, the chances of that are… one in a million!"

For a moment I couldn't decide whether I should let out a groan or applaud him, so in the end I settled on awarding him a high-five, and then I spent the rest of the PE lesson hatching a new plan with him which would, with some luck, kill two birds (read: annoyances) with one stone (read: unwitting arm-band connoisseur).

I had to admit that the info about this whole 'The Gathering' balderdash showing up on my doorstep right now was just a wee bit too convenient, but as they say, when life gives you stalker lemons, you make creepy lemonade.

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