Chương 394: 179.Quote, Not Extortionate Price 2

"Hoshino."

"What."

"Stop packaging disasters in lyrical prose."

"Sorry, it's my self-defense mechanism for facing reality." Hedwig asked softly:"Is this kind of thing common?" Roy and I turned to look at her at the same time. Then Roy and I both stayed silent for half a second. I spoke first.

"If you're asking 'will administrative units try to slip ridiculous things into the budget while the event organizers are busy dying,' then the answer is yes." Roy added from the side:"And the frequency is high enough to constitute a seasonal climate." Hedwig was quiet for a moment, looking down at the quote again.

"... I'm starting to understand why none of your dark circles look temporary."

"Welcome to student autonomy," I said.

"There's no glory here, only reimbursements." Jess immediately tapped the desk in agreement.

"We can carve that over the Seitokai door."

"Add a line underneath: 'Please confirm your soul has completed budget allocation before entering,'" I said. Maki ignored our trash talk and flipped straight back to the first page, marking three columns.

"These three items. Cut them," she said. Her tone was light, like she was commenting on the nice weather. But I knew that wasn't a suggestion. It was a verdict. Jess blinked.

"I go cut them?"

"You go pass the message," Maki said.

"We'll do the cutting ourselves."... Ah. It's over. I held a half-second of silence for the Broadcasting Committee in my heart. Because translated into human speech, that sentence usually meant— The Seitokai President believes they have forfeited the right to "gracefully retract the quote themselves." Roy picked up his pen at this point, looking like he'd finally returned from the brink of death, entering an even more terrifying state of clarity.

"I'll draft a new one," he said.

"Essential items stay, all non-essential items get stripped. For the wiring, I want their site survey records; verbal explanations are not accepted. Backup speakers stay at the original quantity maximum; if they want to add more, they need to provide dead-zone testing evidence."

"Look," I tilted my head toward Hedwig and whispered, "he's back from the dead." Hedwig also lowered her voice.

"This is called back from the dead?"

"Yes. The guy from earlier was about to ascend to heaven. This one is planning to drag people to hell with him." This time she really laughed. It was light, but not the polite curve from earlier; it was the laugh of someone genuinely amused. In that moment, I actually felt an inexplicable sense of accomplishment, as if I wasn't sitting in the Seitokai office dealing with inflated quotes, but had successfully completed a high-difficulty mission to make Hedwig smile genuinely under extremely adverse conditions....

I must be too tired. Otherwise, why would I even start keeping score on something like this? Lan handed another sheet to Maki.

"If we want to push this back, it's best to arrange a meeting with the Broadcasting Committee to talk it over today," Lan said.

"If we drag it out until tomorrow, they'll grow new excuses."

"Agreed," Maki said. She looked at me.

"Shimo." I sat up straight on reflex.

"Me again?"

"Yes, you go."

"Why?"

"Because Jess just made a run, Roy needs to recompile the budget, Lan needs to revise the master schedule, Hedwig needs to help cross-check items, and I have to finish collecting the replies from the venues and Disciplinary." She paused, then delivered the final blow.

"Plus, you're the most useful in this kind of situation." I narrowed my eyes.

"Your definition of 'useful' usually isn't an adjective I can put on a resume."

"That's your problem, not a vocabulary problem." Jess, watching the show, didn't mind making it bigger.

"I agree with Maki," she said.

"When you walk into the meeting room, they'll at least understand two things. One, the Seitokai is really busy today. Two, if they spout any more nonsense, you might shove their 'Ritualistic Ambient Soundscape Design' right back into their ancestral graves."

"I am a civilized person now," I said.

"You weren't yesterday," Jess said.

"Yesterday was a special circumstance."

"And today?"

"Today I will try very hard not to turn myself into a special circumstance." Hedwig, who had been quiet beside me, suddenly spoke up.

"I'll go too." I turned to look at her.

"What are you going for?"

"If it's just the Seitokai Vice President going alone, they might treat it as a simple budget tug-of-war," Hedwig said.

"But if the Seitokai Secretary is also present, at least formally, it won't be your personal opinion, but an official Seitokai review." I was stunned for a second.... Makes sense. And it was very Hedwig-style sense. She wasn't shielding me, nor was she suddenly fired up. She just calmly picked the most effective position and stepped into it. Maki gave Hedwig a look.

"Fine," she said. Then she looked back at me.

"You're in charge of speaking human." I protested immediately.

"What does that mean?" Maki's face didn't change.

"Hedwig is responsible for keeping the situation within the bounds of a formal negotiation. You are responsible for making sure they understand, within those bounds, that we are not here to get slaughtered."

"Sounds like a division-of-labor version of good cop, bad cop."

"If you're self-aware, that's good." Jess was practically dying of laughter.

"This is great, the Princess and the Scarred Prince are teaming up to slay the quote." I grabbed a rubber band from the desk and flicked it at her. Jess yelped, quickly dodging her head, laughing even more obnoxiously. The tips of Hedwig's ears were a little red again. Just a little, but I saw it. At times like this, I really wanted to ask whatever gods were up there whose side they were on.

Making me pull an all-nighter at the police station yesterday, making me deal with inflated quotes in the Seitokai today, and now casually adding this unnecessary color to Hedwig's face. This wasn't a test; it was just a sick joke. I cleared my throat, stood up, and clipped the revised quote and the original sheet together onto a clipboard.

"Fine," I said.

"I'll go talk to them." I looked at Hedwig.

"You come with me. But let's get one thing straight—if they start talking about 'experience quality,' 'atmosphere creation,' or 'entry emotional build-up,' you'd better not laugh." Hedwig stood up and reached out to take half the documents.

"I'll try my best."

"The phrase 'try my best' makes me very uneasy."

"Then let me rephrase." She looked at me, her tone steady, but inexplicably sounding a bit deliberate.

"If you laugh first, I'll join you." I looked at her for two seconds.... Okay, that's just cheating. Behind the desk, Maki glanced up at us, said nothing, and just tapped the tip of her pen lightly against the tabletop. The movement was light. But I felt like it wasn't a prompt to hurry up. It was more like the Seitokai president had seen something she didn't intend to call out on the spot, but that definitely existed, and had chosen to leave it alone for now. Which was scarier than her just saying it out loud.

Holding the files, I walked toward the door. Hedwig followed beside me, her pace not fast, but steady. Before leaving the office, I glanced back. Roy was already buried in numbers again, like an ascetic monk who'd just been dragged back from the brink of death. Lan was quietly and efficiently adding notes to the columns for him. Jess leaned by the window, wearing an expression that said she was waiting for us to bring back new spoils of war.

Maki sat in her original spot, lifting her pen to turn a page, looking as if nothing had changed, and also as if everything was under her control. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I suddenly felt that if this tournament actually managed to finish smoothly, the ones who deserved an award the most weren't the competitors. It was the surviving Seitokai.

"Let's go," I said to Hedwig.

"Alright," she replied. Hedwig walked beside me, holding the original quote and the revised version. She walked steadily, her pace neither fast nor slow, without a single unnecessary sound. That kind of quiet didn't mean a lack of presence; rather, precisely because it was so steady, it was especially noticeable. I tilted my head and glanced at her.

"You can still back out now," I said.

"Before we reach the Broadcasting Committee, you can pretend you suddenly remembered something else for the Seitokai and leave this glory for me to enjoy alone." Hedwig turned to look at me.

"I already promised Maki."

"Promising Maki doesn't mean you have to jump into the fire pit with me."

"If you're calling the Broadcasting Committee a fire pit, then I should definitely go."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"Risk management." She said it so calmly, so serenely, that for a moment I couldn't tell if she was being serious, or if she was using that seemingly serious demeanor to secretly slip a knife in as a comeback. I narrowed my eyes.

"Hedwig, have you been picking up bad habits lately?"

"No," she said.

"I'm just starting to understand why you always speak with that kind of tone."

"What kind of tone?"

"Like you're always ready to kick the world aside and see if it rolls back onto the right track on its own." I almost stumbled.... Wasn't that description a little too accurate?

"Your observational skills are sometimes genuinely terrifying," I said.

"Thank you."

"I wasn't praising you."

"I know." Damn it. That sounded more and more like something Maki would say. What kind of place was the Seitokai, where what was contagious wasn't a cold, but this kind of migraine-inducing conversational style? We walked through the corridor connecting the central building and the administrative wing. The afternoon sun slanted in, falling on the floor, cutting it into bright squares.

The campus wasn't too noisy; from a distance, you could hear whistles from the athletic field and the clatter of metal from some club moving equipment. Very everyday. So everyday that it felt like last night's police station detention, handcuffs, statements, and bastard thugs didn't even belong to the same world. I spoke up suddenly.

"About yesterday... are you still thinking about it?" Hedwig was quiet for a moment.

"I am," she said.

"Regret it?"

"No." She answered quickly, with almost no pause. I turned my head to look at her. Hedwig didn't dodge my gaze; she just looked straight ahead calmly, as if she were organizing her words, not avoiding the topic.

"I was just thinking," she said, "how you usually manage to disguise yourself as someone who just has a bad mouth." I was silent for two seconds.

"First of all, my mouth isn't 'comparatively' bad," I said.

"Secondly, it's not a disguise. It's called camouflage. Like how some animals paint themselves to look like tree bark."

"You're more like tree bark that bites."

"... That sounds very impolite, but for some reason, I feel like it's pretty accurate." Hedwig gave a soft laugh. Just once. As brief as the wind brushing the corner of a piece of paper. I shouldn't care. Really. But when she laughed, that overly proper, overly calm silhouette suddenly loosened a bit, as if something that had been pressed very neatly was quietly revealing a corner. That corner wasn't big, but it was lethal. I cleared my throat, dragging the topic forcefully back to business.

"Anyway, once we get in there, if they start talking about 'event atmosphere,' 'competitor aura,' or 'immersive openings,' don't laugh first."

"I'll hold it in."

"Earlier you said 'try my best'."

"It's been upgraded to 'I will' now."

"Why do I feel even more uneasy?"

"Then don't say anything too funny first." I turned to look at her. Hedwig happened to look at me too. In that moment, there was actually nothing special about the corridor. Sunlight, walls, people talking in the distance, a bunch of crappy official documents in our hands. But in that exact moment, I clearly realized that Hedwig was no longer at that distance separated by a layer of courtesy and observation from the first few times. She was standing closer now.

Not physical distance, but that other, more troublesome kind. I looked away first.

"We're here," I said. The Broadcasting Committee's doorplate was right in front of us. I stepped up, knocked twice, and without waiting for the "please come in" from inside to finish, pushed the door open. And then I immediately understood that Jess really had been polite earlier. The atmosphere in the Broadcasting Committee office didn't feel like an administrative unit at all. Several venue layout maps, equipment catalogs, and over-color-coded flowcharts were spread across the desks.

Two display backdrops from god-knows-where were leaning against the wall. Most absurdly, there was actually a set of small test speakers in the corner, looking like they had prematurely entered a religious state of "if there isn't enough low-frequency shock, this event is incomplete." The Broadcasting Committee Chair sitting furthest inside looked up. Seeing Hedwig and me walk in, the smile on her face was initially pasted on formally, then, upon seeing the quote in my hand, stiffened almost imperceptibly. Good.

That's right. If a person doesn't even have a guilty conscience, negotiating with them is exhausting.

"Vice President Hoshino, Secretary Hedwig." The Broadcasting Committee Chair stood up, her tone still polite.

"You're here about the quote, I presume?"

"What else?" I tossed the clipboard onto the desk.

"Did you think we were so moved by the 'Ritualistic Ambient Soundscape Design' that we came on a special pilgrimage?" Her mouth twitched. Hedwig spoke up very steadily beside me.

"We came today to confirm the basis for the revised quote," she said.

"Especially the parts with significant increases. We need to cross-check them item by item before we can send them back to the Seitokai for final review." This was the advantage of bringing her along. The same sentence, if I said it alone, would sound like "We're here to bust you." When Hedwig said it, it instantly became "administration according to the law, procedural justice, you'd better sit up straight." The Broadcasting Committee Chair nodded and sat back down.

"Of course," she said.

"Actually, that revised version is mainly because we re-evaluated the on-site effects—""Stop right there." I pulled out a chair and sat down.

"We're not discussing 'effects' today. We're discussing 'necessity.' Effects are something you talk about when you have money and time. Necessity is what the Seitokai is paying for right now." I spread the two quotes out, my finger tapping directly on the first item.

"Main PA system revised up by twenty-eight percent. Reason?" The Broadcasting Committee Chair was clearly prepared.

"Because the venue is more open than originally estimated," she said.

"If we execute with the original specs, there might be insufficient sound field coverage—""The venue map was sent to you three weeks ago," I said.

"Yes, but interpreting it on paper and actual—""So did you do an on-site test?" She paused.

"We haven't done a full test yet, but based on experience—""No full test, and you just add twenty-eight percent?" I leaned back in my chair.

"Is your Broadcasting Committee's experience used for estimating sound fields, or for estimating how busy the Seitokai is, so busy they won't chase down this bill?" Another committee member beside her frowned.

"Vice President Hoshino, speaking like that is a bit—""Direct?" I finished the sentence for her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night, and my patience today is measured in micrograms. If you have written test data, bring it out; if not, we negotiate based on the original quote." Hedwig pushed a notation sheet I had on hand forward, her tone still steady.

"The Seitokai's position is very clear," she said.

"Anything listed as a necessary expense requires a corresponding basis. If there's no test data currently, then this increase at least cannot be submitted for review as 'confirmed necessary.'" The Broadcasting Committee Chair glanced at Hedwig. I could tell she had probably thought I was here to play bad cop and Hedwig was here to be the soft buffer. Unfortunately, no. Hedwig wasn't a buffer. Her tone was more civilized than mine, but her knife had just as sharp an edge. I slid my finger down.

"Second item. Backup speakers go from four sets to six."

"Because considering dead zones—""Where are the dead zones?"

"That requires actual configuration before—""Meaning you don't know right now."

"It's not that we don't know, it's a preventive—""Preventive additions need a baseline too, right?" I looked up at her.

"Otherwise, following that logic, I could also preemptively add a premium nutritional supplement budget for all committee members to prevent Seitokai members from dying of overwork." A Broadcasting Committee member nearby almost laughed, realizing halfway through that the setting was wrong, and forcibly lowered her head to cough. I gave her a mental nod of approval. At least someone here understood humor. The Broadcasting Committee Chair's face stiffened subtly.

"Vice President Hoshino, that comparison is not very appropriate."

"I also think it's not very appropriate," I said.

"But the fact that you wrote down two extra sets of backup speakers as if it's a given is, in itself, even more inappropriate." Hedwig flipped to the next page beside me, her finger tapping on the newly added item.

"And this one," she said.

"'Ritualistic Ambient Soundscape Design.' May I ask what the specific content of this item is?" The entire room was quiet for a second. That second of quiet was like the polite pause before a public execution. The Broadcasting Committee Chair cleared her throat.

"This is to elevate the overall consistency of the event," she said.

"For example, the emotional build-up when competitors enter, the transition pacing, and during the closing—" I raised a hand to cover half my face. I can't. I really am about to laugh. Hedwig tilted her head slightly and gave me a look. There was no laughter in her eyes, but I knew she was holding it in. Holding it in very hard. I took a deep breath and forced my expression back under control.

"Let me confirm something," I said.

"We're organizing an intramural sports tournament, not a royal wedding, nor an idol's graduation concert, right?"

"That's not the issue—""Then what is the issue?" I leaned forward slightly.

"Transition pacing needs to be handled by a specialized quote? Closing emotions have to be designed separately? Are you going to tell me next that without sufficient low-frequency backing, the audience won't be able to fully comprehend the value of youth and glory?" This time, even Hedwig looked away for a moment. Not because she disagreed. But because she really was about to laugh. The Broadcasting Committee Chair took a breath, clearly a bit angered by my pressing, but unable to outright flip the table.

"Vice President Hoshino, you're exaggerating too much."

"I'm not exaggerating. Your quote is just very ambitious," I said.

"And that ambition costs Seitokai money." Hedwig closed the file, her movement light but decisive.

"The Seitokai understands that the Broadcasting Committee wants a higher completion level for the event," she said.

"But if it's to be included in the budget as a necessary expense, we must distinguish between 'necessary' and 'ideal.' Currently, this quote mixes the two together." I added a finishing strike from the side.

"Translated, you've disguised what you want as something we can't do without." With that sentence, the faces of the Broadcasting Committee members opposite us finally changed collectively. Some people like to beat around the bush during negotiations because they're afraid of making the scene ugly. But the Seitokai doesn't have that kind of time right now. And honestly, when the other side sits across from you holding a quote that could send Roy to his next reincarnation, asking me to be gentle is a bit insulting.

The Broadcasting Committee Chair was silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

"... Then how does the Seitokai wish to proceed?" Here it comes. The moment that sentence came out, it meant she was no longer defending; she was looking for a way to step down. I didn't answer immediately, turning to look at Hedwig. Hedwig picked it up naturally.

"First, for the main PA and backup items, if there are no on-site test or survey records, revert to the original quote baseline," she said.

"Second, if the independent wiring fee is to be retained, please provide formal site survey results and technical justifications. Third—" She paused, looking at the revised quote.

"The 'Ritualistic Ambient Soundscape Design' is removed entirely." That sentence was delivered so cleanly. So cleanly that I couldn't help but applaud her in my heart. The Broadcasting Committee Chair clearly wanted to struggle a bit more.

"But if we delete it completely, the completeness of the opening—""Completeness doesn't die just because there's no specialized funding," I said.

"At most, there's just a little less self-indulgence." Someone nearby lowered their head again. Good. I like this "want to laugh but don't dare" atmosphere. It means at least someone here understands that today's problem isn't aesthetics, it's accounting. Hedwig looked at the Broadcasting Committee Chair.

"If you're willing, we can retain 'use existing assets for competitor introduction BGM and announcement transitions' as an execution note," she said.

"But that should not be listed as an additional design fee." This is where she's formidable. I'm responsible for pushing the other side into a corner. Hedwig is responsible for placing a somewhat respectable ladder next to that corner. The Broadcasting Committee Chair stared at the two sheets for a long time, finally letting out a slow breath.

"... Fine," she said.

"I'll go back and redo it."

"Today," I added immediately. She frowned.

"Today?"

"Yes, today," I said.

"Because the accountant is still alive, but that doesn't mean he wants to spend the night with this quote." Hedwig added the formal version from the side.

"The Seitokai needs the new revised version before this evening, otherwise the overall budget cannot be recompiled," she said.

"Please deliver it to the Seitokai before five o'clock." The Broadcasting Committee Chair's mouth stiffened, but she finally nodded.

"... Understood." I stood up and put the documents back into the clipboard.

"Excellent," I said.

"You redo it, we recalculate, and everyone can still pretend to be part of civilized society." The Broadcasting Committee Chair clearly wanted to rebut that last sentence, but probably knew that dragging this out would only make things uglier, so she chose to keep her mouth shut. Just as I turned to leave, I heard the committee member in the corner who had almost laughed earlier whisper to the person next to her:"I told you that project name was too embarrassing..." I stopped and looked back.

That committee member froze instantly. I looked at her for a second, ultimately deciding not to give her a hard time, and just nodded.

"At least you still have a conscience," I said. With that, I pushed the door open and walked out. The moment the door closed, the air in the corridor felt instantly fresher. It felt like successfully escaping a room stuffed with expensive mistakes, your lungs finally regaining the right to use clean oxygen. I took two steps forward before letting out a low breath.

"I almost broke character," I said. Hedwig walked beside me, her voice also lowering a bit.

"Me too." I turned to look at her.

"Your 'removed entirely' line just now was beautiful." Hedwig glanced at me.

"Your 'self-indulgence' line was more beautiful."

"That line was dangerous."

"But accurate."

"I can't believe you'd follow up like that."

"I told you." Her tone was flat, but carried a faint, hard-to-detect lightness.

"I'm starting to understand you better." My steps faltered for half a beat.... Could we not say things like that with such a normal expression right after fighting a budget war? It makes it very hard to respond. I could only cough dryly and press the files tighter against my chest.

"Don't understand too much yet," I said.

"The water in the Seitokai is deep. Today it's just the Broadcasting Committee. Who knows if the next thing to pop up will be temporary toilets, medical outsourcing, or some lunatic who suddenly wants to apply for a specialized grant for 'A Sense of Youth'." Hearing that, Hedwig genuinely laughed. It was more obvious than before.

"If there were a specialized grant for 'A Sense of Youth,' the Seitokai would probably need it the most."

"No," I vetoed immediately.

"What the Seitokai needs is a sleep subsidy and compensation for mental damages."

"I support both of those."

"Excellent, Secretary Hedwig. Your political judgment is becoming increasingly healthy." She looked at me, the trace of a smile still lingering on her lips.

"So, what's next?" she asked. I looked down at the files in my hand and turned back toward the Seitokai.

"Next?" I said.

"We go back and inform Roy that his ascension to heaven has been temporarily postponed."

"Do you think he'll be happy?"

"No," I answered honestly.

"He'll just give me a cold look and say, 'This was the bare minimum expectation.'" Hedwig was quiet for half a second.

"That sounds a lot like something you would say."

"... Why does everyone lately like to use me as a bad example?"

"Because it's very convenient."

"No matter how I listen to that, it doesn't sound like a compliment."

"Then treat it as formal feedback." I looked at her, and finally couldn't hold back a laugh.