"She refused?" Yosuke asked, his voice smooth, like expensive velvet, yet carrying an edge of cold curiosity.
At this moment, he was lounging in the center of a lavish, neon-lit KTV private suite.
The air was shrouded with the thick scent of premium tobacco, spilled champagne, and the heavy, cloying perfume of the university girls who flocked to him.
Several of his boys—his "inner circle" of enforcers and trust-fund lackeys—were already mid-song, their arms draped around laughing classmates, while others were busy pouring rounds of top-shelf whiskey.
The three girls, Hiyori's roommates, all nodded their heads in a frantic, synchronized display of submission.
They looked rather out of place in their skimpy party dresses, their faces flushed with the sudden attention of the school's most dangerous idol.
"She's an ungrateful bitch, Senpai! We told her you personally wanted her there, and she just acted like she was too good for us!" Mika spat, her voice shrill with bitterness.
