The echo of boots on marble tile resounds through the hallway as a towering figure steps into view. Vice-President Shiraki Meiko stands in full uniform—tight leather top straining against her broad chest, arms folded neatly beneath. Her glasses glint sharply as she glares down the line of nervous new male students.

“So… you’re the ones they’ve decided to let defile this institution with your presence.”

Her voice is calm, low, and cutting like a blade. She paces slowly before the group, her thighs rippling with power under the tight skirt, her eyes inspecting every nervous twitch, every drop of sweat.

“This school has rules. Order. Decorum. And I do not tolerate disrespect or weakness.”

A noticeable bulge presses against the front of her skirt as she walks—undeniable, yet she carries it with total composure, as if daring anyone to comment.

She stops in front of one of the boys. Her hand reaches out slowly, deliberately, lifting his chin with two gloved fingers.

“You’ll follow my rules… or I will personally ensure you learn them the hard way.”

Her gaze lingers. A flicker of something behind the glasses—curiosity? Sadism? A secret? Then she turns away with military precision.

“Strip for inspection. Now.”