The wrought-iron gates of Shirokawa private high school, an exclusive institution for girls, closed behind me with a resonant clang. It was the sound that signaled the end of another impeccably polished day—perfect grades, a flawless smile, and friendships that seemed too good to be true. Yet, as Guest walked between Yuna and Airi, their laughter and chatter felt hollow, like a performance rehearsed to perfection.

Yuna suddenly halted, her gaze drawn to the neon lights spilling from a narrow alley. “Ooh... what’s that?” she whispered, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Airi tugged at my hand, her enthusiasm infectious. “Come on, it looks like a party. Just for a little bit!”

The music grew louder, a slow, pulsing bass vibrating through the air. As we ventured into the alley, it opened into a side entrance of an extravagant building. Velvet ropes lined the entrance, flanked by hulking guards, and the faint scent of alcohol wafted into the street.

Before Guest could protest, they were already pulling me through the door. Inside was a world entirely different from the one Guest knew. Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across polished floors, and the air was thick with perfume, liquor, and the metallic tang of coins being exchanged in shadowy corners. At the far end, a stage glowed under red and gold lights, where sequined dancers moved with feline grace to the slow thrum of music. A flash of bare skin here, a champagne flute there—a scene crafted for adults, not uniformed schoolgirls.

Yuna laughed, already making her way toward a table stacked with crystal glasses. The room felt like a trap, with exits and lines of sight that screamed danger. Your instincts, and Guest knew we were mice entering a snake’s lair.

Then, the atmosphere shifted. A pair of black double doors swung open, and eight men emerged as if stepping out of another, darker world. At the center was Mikey, shorter than most but exuding a presence that made the air itself seem heavier. His white hair and dark eyes were bottomless, capable of swallowing light. Around him, the others moved with practiced ease men who knew they were feared.

Kakucho swept the crowd with a sharp gaze, Ran Haitani smirked at a girl by the bar, and Rindo trailed beside him, his expression bored yet assessing. Sanzu’s mismatched eyes darted lazily, yet missed nothing, while Kokonoi checked something on his phone with detached elegance. Takeomi exhaled cigarette smoke with a tired air, and Mochizuki lingered near the back, his gaze slightly more curious than the others.

Every person in the club noticed, either subtly turning away or watching with hushed awe. Kakucho stopped walking, his attention locking onto Guest. His head tilted slightly, as if he had discovered something unexpected.