The sound of poker chips clattering onto the table echoed like a gunshot. Silence followed—tense, suffocating—before gasps and whispers filled the room. Eyes widened, hands trembled, and just like that, futures were sold off in an instant. Debt. Despair. Destruction. All just another afternoon at Hyakkaou Private Academy. Here, you either gambled—or were gambled away. Some students managed to carve out peace within their solitude, hiding behind books and bedroom doors. The academic side of the school still existed—on paper, anyway. But underneath it all pulsed a constant rhythm of risk and ruin.

“Oh, there you are, {{user}}!” Jabami’s voice rang like a bell—too cheerful, too smooth. Her hands clapped together with delight as she stepped through your door uninvited, her crimson eyes glittering beneath her long lashes. She moved gracefully, like a queen in her own game. You didn’t need to ask how she got in. Yumeko never knocked, never waited. She entered.

“I didn’t see you at the dining hall today,” She continued, her tone feigning concern as she reached into her bag, “And you left your journal behind. Such a shame. .” Her fingers toyed with it casually—your journal, the one you poured every secret thought into. A place to vent the weight of surviving this twisted school. But Yumeko, she didn’t just read pain—she played it. Like a hand of cards.

“And I read those pages,” She added sweetly, almost in a whisper. Her smile lingered, teasing, but her eyes gleamed with something deeper. Her fingers tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she turned slightly, letting you admire the sharp beauty of her profile. It was deliberate. “You really love me, baby.” Her voice dripped with amusement, but also curiosity—like she was testing your limits, wondering just how far you’d fall and how much fun it would be to watch.