That morning, Alex walked into the classroom with his usual calm demeanor.
He noticed Leo and James already sitting near the window, huddled over something on Leo's phone.
"Bro, check this out," Leo said, opening a live stream.
On the screen, one of their friends from BTSI was standing in the main hall of the technical school.
Alex leaned closer.
In the video, a young student kicked a table, sparking a minor commotion.
Other students watched, taunted, and in an instant, the scene escalated into a ranking challenge.
It wasn't violent, but it was intense: calculated movements, students testing each other's endurance and courage.
Alex leaned in further, observing patterns, trying to understand what was happening.
Jared, sitting a few rows behind, finally spoke.
"That's normal here," he said plainly.
"Everyone's chasing the top rank. Doesn't matter if it's the technical school or BIPS. High rank means better facilities, scholarships, and connections—it basically guarantees your future."
Alex frowned.
"But… isn't this extreme for our age?"
Jared patted his shoulder lightly.
"Don't be surprised. Lots of students are tempted. The ranking system is official on the school app—but most of this activity is censored, so teachers and staff barely interfere. They want everyone focused on graduating, but students still compete fiercely."
Leo added, eyes fixed on the screen, "Many students enroll here because of the school's reputation. But for the ambitious… the app ranking matters. It's not required, but if you want to get into top universities or prestigious projects, many follow the rules—even if there's risk."
Alex leaned back, thinking about everything that happened yesterday: the broken window, the incident at the gate, and the rumors about The Cooperation.
It all started to feel like part of a much larger system.
He looked at Jared and Leo.
"So all of this… it's not just school stuff. It's like… a bigger game, right?"
Jared nodded slowly.
"Exactly. And believe me, since you're new here, you'll start seeing its darker side—without even having to join the fights yourself."
Alex glanced back at the screen, noting patterns and names of students appearing in the live stream.
Curiosity mixed with caution grew inside him: this wasn't just about school rankings—it was about who obeys, who survives, and who controls the system.
The morning sun started filtering through the maroon walls of BIPS when a sleek black car stopped in front of the school gate.
From inside, Damon Vale stepped out with calm, measured steps, his face unreadable as always.
Inside the car, his phone had just rung.
He glanced at the screen, hearing the hurried, panicked voice from the meeting that was supposed to happen that morning.
"The meeting's postponed until the afternoon. There were some errors," the voice said. Damon pressed the red button. The call ended immediately.
He glanced at his iPad. The screen displayed breaking news: a honest police officer had been killed in a shocking incident across the city.
Damon didn't show any visible reaction—his eyes stayed cold, but a flicker of calculation crossed them. He slipped the iPad into his bag and walked steadily toward the school gate.
At the gate, two security officers noticed him.
Damon raised his hand slightly—a signal, not a threat.
They understood and opened the gate immediately.
Without another word, Damon entered the school grounds.
Inside Alex's classroom, the atmosphere was still tense and silent.
Students kept glancing out the windows and down the hallway, still thinking about yesterday's BTSI incident.
No one had noticed Damon yet… at least, not directly.
Suddenly, in the hallway outside the classroom, a young man wearing a technical school uniform walked slowly but confidently.
His outfit wasn't the full BTSI uniform—just a technical school shirt—but it immediately drew attention.
His stride was steady, his movements controlled, and there was something mysterious about him that made everyone curious.
"Maybe a new BTSI kid?" whispered one student.
"Who is he?" asked another, craning their neck to get a better look.
Alex tilted his head, observing quietly from his seat.
There was something different about this boy—not just the uniform, but the way he carried himself: confident, like he already knew every corner of this elite school.
Leo tapped Alex on the shoulder quietly.
"Watch closely… he's not an ordinary kid. Something's off about him."
The class held their breath, remaining silent as the boy walked down the hallway.
Unbeknownst to them, his presence marked the beginning of something much bigger that was about to unfold at BIPS.
In class, Alex finally spoke up, glancing toward the hallway.
"For what is he even here…? A tech school student rarely comes into the main BIPS building."
Leo shrugged, his face tense.
"If that's really someone from BTSI… it means this is bigger than just a provocation."
Alex nodded slightly, feeling a bad premonition rising in his chest.
Damon Vale walked past the faculty room. The staff froze, unsure of what to say.
One teacher nervously guided Damon toward the principal's office.
"The principal is waiting inside," the teacher stammered.
Damon nodded silently and opened the door.
Mr. Henderson, the principal, was frantically searching through files when he noticed the visitor.
His face immediately went pale.
"Damon…? Why are you here? This is BIPS territory, not—"
Before Henderson could finish, Damon was already seated in the guest chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp and calm.
"Relax, sir. I'm only here to… make sure everything runs smoothly," Damon said evenly.
Henderson swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.
"What do you mean by 'runs smoothly'? I'm just following the system—"
Damon leaned slightly forward, his gaze piercing.
"You're following The Cooperation's orders, not just the school system."
Henderson froze, his hands trembling.
Damon lowered his voice, measured and cold.
"You know what I mean. The documents you've kept… the transactions, the falsified reports—they're all under scrutiny."
Henderson attempted to respond.
"I… I'll report this to the police. You can't threaten me like this."
Damon reached into his pocket and pulled out a folding knife, not to harm, but as a symbolic warning.
He placed it carefully on the desk—not on Henderson—just close enough to make the point.
"Go ahead, report it," Damon said calmly.
"Do you think the district police will handle this? Or did you forget… that some of them have long been involved in your little projects, sir?"
Henderson paled.
Damon continued, his voice steady and cold:
"Money laundering through school budgets…
Fictitious projects you approved…
And your secret dealings with a network that… traffics human organs."
He didn't use vulgar words, but the implication was clear enough to make Henderson sweat.
"All of it will come to light if you open your mouth.
And you know who will fall first? Not The Cooperation… but you."
Damon stood calmly, sliding the knife back into his pocket—not to harm anyone, just to assert control.
"Do your job. Keep BIPS' rankings according to instructions.
And don't step out of line."
Henderson nodded stiffly, unable to respond.
Damon glanced at him one last time before leaving.
"Good. We understand each other."
The door clicked softly behind him.