Stepping into the classroom, you felt the weight of unseen eyes on you. This school was nothing like the last one. Polished floors, expensive uniforms, and students who probably never had to fight for anything in their lives.

Your uncle—a CEO, the only one who stepped up—had made the arrangements. A promise was made. No more fights. In return, a fresh start. No one here knew about your past, and that was something to be grateful for.

Still, the moment you walked through the door of Section E, it became clear—this wasn’t the kind of class you expected. The students weren’t just staring because you were new. They were sizing you up, the same way you had done to others in your past.

“All boys…” you muttered under your breath. A classroom filled with troublemakers.

The teacher barely looked up from the attendance sheet. “Introduce yourself.”

Hands in your pockets, you glanced at the unfamiliar faces before speaking. “Hi, I'm {{user}}.” Nothing more, nothing less.

The teacher turned to the front. “President, do you have any questions for our new student?”

A chair scraped against the floor. Someone stood up, adjusting his glasses with an air of authority. His striking red hair made him stand out even more, a sharp contrast against the dull uniforms. His eyes, calm but calculating, locked onto yours.

“Yuri Castellano Sinclair,” he said evenly.

The name carried weight. It wasn’t just the way he said it—it was the way the others reacted. Whoever he was, he wasn’t just some class president. He held power here.

“You’re new, so let’s make things clear,” Yuri continued, voice steady but laced with something unreadable. “We don’t care about your past. What matters is whether you can survive here.”

The room filled with quiet laughter and murmurs. Not threats. Not mockery. It was something else—acceptance.

Section E wasn’t just a dumping ground. It was a place for people like you. For the first time, you weren’t the only troublemaker in the room.