The afternoon sun bled through the tall windows of the Class 1-D room, casting long golden shadows over the wood desks.
The atmosphere had shifted from the morning's nervous excitement to a sort of sluggish complacency as most of my classmates were already mentally spending their points, browsing luxury catalogs on their phones or whispering about the high-end products at Keyaki Mall, oblivious to the obvious signs that something doesn't add up.
They were comfortable, overly so, thinking they were "rich, all the while ignorant to the fact that they were lambs being fattened for a slaughter that would happen on the first of next month.
But hey, they're in bliss, so I guess the saying has some truth to it.
I, however, felt more alive than ever, and the gourmet sashimi lunch I had shared with Sakura had settled quite well, and the 10x Cashback notification was still glowing in the back of my mind like a ln MVP trophy, causing me to randomly break out in barely repressed grins.
Ignoring tne stupidity of my fellow classmates, I sat back, my boots crossed under the desk, watching the door for what I know is to come if canon was still mostly intact, which I believe it is.
And sure enough, the peace didn't last long as about ten minutes before the final bell, the classroom door slammed open instead of sliding against the stopper.
The chatter died instantly as group of three boys stood in the threshold, wearing the same maroon blazers as us, but with an air of practiced thuggery that felt out of place in a prestigious academy which in fact, nurtured such occurrences with its Darwinistic teaching methods.
At the center was a boy with slicked-back hair and a sneer that looked permanent that I recognized from the show as one of Ryuen Kakeru's lackeys from Class C.
The leader of the trio, a tall guy named Ishizaki, scanned the room with narrowed eyes. "So this is the 'Defective Class,' huh? Looks more like a daycare center for losers."
I felt Sakura stiffen beside me. She pulled her chair a few inches closer to mine, her head ducked low.
I didn't blame her as these pathetic jerk offs projected a very specific kind of toxicity, one that was frightening for someone with her timid nature.
"Hey, you," Ishizaki barked, pointing at a boy in the front row who was trembling. "I heard Class D got a few interesting transfers this year. Someone with a lot of mouth and a fancy background."
His eyes roamed the room until they landed on me. He stopped. His sneer faltered for a micro-second, mostnlikely because I didn't look like a 'loser'. I looked like someone who owned the building he was standing in.
"You the American? " Ishizaki asked, swaggering toward my desk as he kicked a stray chair out of his way, the metal legs screeching against the floor in an awful nails-on-chalkboard sound, causing most to wince.
"The one they're calling the Las Vegas Prince already?"
I didn't move or even unfold my hands from behind my head, opting to just look up at him, letting my eyes drill into his. "I prefer Korey. But 'Your Majesty' works if you're feeling formal."
A few people in the class snickered, while Ike and Yamauchi looked like they wanted to hide under their desks and even Horikita, who usually ignored everything, turned her head slightly to watch the exchange, her unique eyes seemingly calculating something.
Ishizaki's face flushed a deep, angry red. "You think you're funny, Fucking gaijin? This isn't America. This is Japan. And in this school, we have a hierarchy."
"I agree," I said, my voice calm, almost bored. "And right now, you're standing in my personal space, which puts you at the bottom of it, which begs the question. Are you here for a reason, or did you just get lost looking for another braincell to compliment the only you've got? I must say, I don't blame you. That one brain cell must be pretty lonely up there..."
The class openly giigles at that one, causing Ishizaki's face to turn crimson with humiliation as he snarls, reaching out to grab the lapel of my blazer saying,"You little—!"
I didn't wait for him to touch me, after all, with Absolute Biokinesis, I didn't need to be a martial arts master... though I do have the muscle memory of an athlete.
I focused on the nerves in my own arm for a split second, boosting my reaction speed to a superhuman level.
To the rest of the class, it looked like a blur as one moment Ishizaki's hand was reaching out and the next, I had stood up, caught his wrist in a grip of iron, and twisted it just far enough to force him onto his tiptoes.
"Careful," I whisper, leaning in close so only he could hear. "I have a very expensive tailor. If you wrinkle the uniform, I might have to bill you. And trust me, you can't afford my rates."
"Let go!" he hissed, his face contorting in pain. His two friends stepped forward, but I didn't even look at them. I just increased the pressure on Ishizaki's wrist.
"Ishizaki! Stop it!"
A new voice cut through the tension. It was a girl's voice, oddly firm, melodic, and yet undeniably cold.
We all turned, and standing at the door was a girl with short, pale hair and a look of supreme boredom.
Hiyori Shiina from Class C.
Behind her, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked grin, was the man himself... Ryuen Kakeru.
Ryuen's eyes were like a snake's gaze, cold, calculating, and hungry. He looked at Ishizaki, then at me, his grin widening.
"Kukuku... Ishizaki, I told you to scout the room, not get your hand broken by an American pretty boy," Ryuen said, his voice a low drawl.
I released Ishizaki, who stumbled back, cradling his wrist and glaring at me with pure hatred as I nonchalantly sat back down on the edge of my desk, completely unfazed.
"And you," Ryuen said, walking into the room. He ignored the rest of Class D as if they were furniture, walking straight up to me. "Korey Knightley. The Vegas transfer. You're a bit of a wildcard, aren't you?"
"I like to keep people guessing," I replied.
Ryuen leaned over, placing his hands on my desk guving me the displeasure of smelling his odor of expensive cigarettes and fruitless ambition. "I don't like wildcards. I like things I can control. This school is a game, and I plan on winning. Don't get in my way, and maybe I'll let you keep that face of yours intact."
I laugh, although it isn't a nervous laugh. It was a genuine, dark chuckle that seemed to catch him off guard.
"Ryuen-kun, right?" I stood up, closing the distance between us until we were nose-to-nose, and because I'm slightly taller with an optimized physique, I felt like a wall of granite compared to his lean frame. "Here's a tip from Vegas," I say, smiling, although the warmthios absent from it as I whisper threateningly. "Never threaten a man unless you know what's in his hand. You're playing for mere points but don't have the foresight or sense of sekf preservation to realize that I'm playing for the whole casino. If you want to dance, just let me know the song, I'll make sure you'll have the time if your goddamn life..."
The silence in the room was absolute, and even Ayanokoji was staring now, his expressionless face holding a hint of genuine curiosity.
Ryuen stared at me for a long beat and the air was thickening with the threat of violence, but suddenly, he barked out a laugh, making many people jump from surprise.
"Kukuku! Interesting. Very interesting! I think Class D might actually be fun this year." He turns on his heel, waving a hand over his shoulder. "Let's go, Ishizaki. We're done here."
As they left, the classroom felt like it finally took a collective breath.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The rest of the day was a blur of whispers about how I was the guy who stood up to Ryuen.
I was now officially the Vegas Prince, a name I despise with all my being, but alas, the best nicknames are the ones chosen for you.
Who knows, I think, Maybe it'll grow on me...
Just as I was packing my bag to head back to the dorms with Sakura, a student I didn't recognize, a third-year wearing a silver armband approached my desk with a shy confidence that seemed misleading.
"Korey Knightley?" he asked, his face a mask of stone.
"That's me."
"The Student Council President, Manabu Horikita, wishes to see you in his office immediately. Follow me."
I felt a sharp gaze hit the back of my head and as I suspected, when I looked over I saw Suzune Horikita, her eyes wide with shock at the thought that her brother who she idolizes, the untouchable President, was summoning a first-year on the very first day.
I shake my head at the lost cause Bro-con and turn back to look at Sakura, who looks worried.
"Go on ahead to the dorms, Sakura-san," I say, "I'll see you for dinner, okay?"
"O-Okay, Korey-kun. Please be careful."
I followed the third-year through the winding hallways of the main building where the Student Council office was located on the top floor, a place of quiet atmosphere that radiated power, and high ceilings that have all but failed to trap the egos of the inhabitants below them.
The third-year knocked once and opened the door, allowing me to see the interior of the office, which was minimalist in design, and unnaturally cold.
Behind a massive mahogany desk sat Manabu Horikita. He was the embodiment of discipline with sharp glasses, perfectly groomed hair, and a gaze that felt like it was scanning my very soul for weaknesses he could he exploit, strengths he can use, or danger.
Next to him stood a girl with long, purple hair and a playful, yet dangerous aura who I instantly recognized as she was a gorgeous girl underrated in the show. Akane Tachibana.
"Korey Knightley," Manabu said, his voice like cracking ice, and his gaze not much warmer as he eyed me once again, making me uncomfortable, although I don't show it. "Sit."
I sat in the chair across from him, leaning back and making myself comfortable before grinning and saying, "President. I assume this isn't about my entrance exam scores..."
"Your scores were... mediocre," Manabu said, flipping through a folder. "Which is why your presence here is anomalous, as this school is meant to be a closed system. However, your father's 'contributions' to the Japanese Ministry of Education were... substantial. You are a special enrollment."
So that's how I got in, I thought. Dad bought my way in. Typical American Billionaire approach, though I'm not complaining...
"However," Manabu continued, leaning forward, "I do not care about your father's money. I care about the order of this school and reports have already reached me about your altercation with Class C. You are a highly disruptive element, Knightley."
"I call it 'corrective' element," I said. "Ryuen needed a reminder that Class D isn't a punching bag."
Manabu's eyes narrowed. "I have watched your intake footage and analyzed your physical movements... they too are anomalous, and in the footage, you moved at a speed that exceeds the recorded limits of a student with your athletic history."
Shit. The Biokinesis. I had to be more careful. Even a slight boost was noticeable to a hawk like Manabu. And he's not the only genius bordering sci-fi here, which warrants self control on my end. This won't be overlooked...
"I've been practicing," I said smoothly.
"Be that as it may," Manabu said, closing the folder and giving me a clear 'I don't think even you believe that look'. "I am offering you a choice. You are a wildcard, so I can either crush you now to ensure the stability of the school... or I can use you."
"Use me for what?"
"There is a rot in the lower classes," Manabu says. "A lack of merit. If you truly have the 'hand' you bragged about to Ryuen, prove it. If Class D reaches Class C by the end of the first semester, I will allow you to continue your... unconventional methods, but if you fail, I will personally ensure your expulsion."
I stared at him, seeing clearky through his horrible attempt to exert dominance, which in was a simple way of saying he wants to put me on a leash.
He didn't realize he was talking to a man who had already won the game.
"I have a counter-offer, President," I said, standing up and Tachibana gasps, slightly startled, before glaring and saying,"You don't make counter-offers to the President!"
Manabu raisesa hand to silence her, although her gorgeous fave still eyrs me with obvious displeasure.
"Speak."
"I'll get Class D to Class A," I said, my voice dropping to a low, confident hum. "But not for you. I'll do it because it's the most entertaining thing to do, however in exchange, I want total autonomy, meaning mo interventions from the Student Council, no matter how much order I disrupt."
Manabu stared at me for a long time and the tension was so thick you could have carved it.
Then, he gave a single, sharp nod before saying, "Deal. But remember, Knightley... in this school, if you can't protect your points, you lose everything. And I will be watching."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," I say turning and walking out of the office, the heavy doors thudding shut behind me.
As I walked down the stairs, I pulled out my Untraceable Black Card. I had more money than the school's entire budget.
I had a body that could rewrite its own rules. And now, I had a green light from the top.
Lights, Camera, Action. The show must go on. And you, Manabu, I think. You just handed the keys to Gotham to Joker and named him Mayor. You might just be the dumbest smart guy I know...
[Chapter End]