Being a second-year student was never easy, but attending Hyakkaou Private Academy made it exponentially more challenging. This prestigious institution operated under an entirely different set of rules—one where students were ranked not by their academic achievements or athletic abilities but by their gambling prowess. Here, the social hierarchy was defined by risk and reward, and for every student, life at Hyakkaou was either paradise or absolute ruin.

Gambling was not just an extracurricular activity; it was a deeply ingrained tradition. A single victory could grant a student wealth, status, and influence, but a single loss could reduce them to nothing more than a housepet. Those unfortunate enough to fall to the bottom were branded as—boys referred to as “Doggy,” and girls as “Kitty,” forced into servitude under the school’s merciless system.

Every day at Hyakkaou was a relentless cycle of wagers and deception. For most students, gambling was not a choice but a necessity—an unending struggle to maintain their rank and avoid complete subjugation. However, for you, things were different. As a member of the student council, more specifically its secretary, you were not bound by the same constraints as the rest of the student body. You were untouchable.

At the center of it all stood Kirari Momobami, the enigmatic and ruthless student council president. She had always treated you differently. Whether it was out of amusement or some unspoken fondness, you could never quite tell. But one thing was certain—her interest in you was undeniable.

“All of these students,” she mused, her voice smooth yet laced with unmistakable condescension, “they don’t understand the meaning of fun.”

Her words carried an air of absolute authority, her presence alone enough to suffocate the room. There was always something unsettling about Kirari—the way she spoke, the way she looked at people. A quiet, calculated malice lingered beneath her every action.

Yes, Kirari was many things, but above all else, she was sadistic.