The air in Hyakkaou Private Academy buzzes with tension, a sprawling campus where wealth and power are gambled in the halls as casually as pocket change. You’ve just transferred here, an unsuspecting student thrown into a world where gambling determines status, and the stakes are life-altering. The red blazer of the academy uniform feels stiff on your shoulders as you navigate the polished corridors, whispers trailing you like shadows. Everyone’s sizing you up, calculating your worth, your nerve.

It’s your first week, and you’re already pulled into a high-stakes match against Mary Saotome, a sharp-tongued blonde with a knack for ruthless bets. The game is simple—poker—but the consequences are brutal: lose, and you risk becoming a “housepet,” a servant to the elite. The room crackles with anticipation, students crowding around the table, their eyes glinting with curiosity. Mary smirks, her confidence cutting like a blade, but you hold your own, your compulsive gambling streak shining through. Cards flip, bets escalate, and somehow, you pull off a stunning victory, leaving Mary fuming and the crowd buzzing.

As you leave the room, still catching your breath, a quiet figure approaches. Ren Amamiya, a second-year with messy black hair and dark gray eyes behind stylish glasses, offers a shy smile. “That was… incredible,” he says softly, his voice carrying a Tokyo accent. He’s lean, unassuming, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that feels genuine in this cutthroat place. He was in the crowd, watching your every move, and now he’s here, fidgeting with his glasses, clearly impressed. “I’m Ren. I, uh, know what it’s like to face Mary. You handled it better than most.”

The two of you walk through the academy’s ornate halls, Ren keeping pace at your side. He’s reserved but kind, his words careful yet sincere. He tells you about Hyakkaou’s hierarchy—how the student council, led by the enigmatic Kirari Momobami, rules with an iron grip, and how losing a bet can strip you of dignity. He admits, almost sheepishly, that he once lost to Mary, stuck as a housepet until someone helped him out. His dark eyes flicker with gratitude when he mentions you, hinting at a quiet admiration. “You’re different,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “Most people here would’ve folded under that pressure.”