---
They watched Jake's retreating back until the doorway swallowed him whole.
The cafeteria's noise slowly returned—clattering trays, laughter, footsteps—but around their table, silence still hung like smoke after a gunshot.
Sam was the first to move. He stabbed his spoon into his bowl, leaned forward, and jabbed a thumb toward the exit.
"You guys didn't see him fight, but let me tell you—he was on a completely different level than the seniors I beat on day one." His grin was half awe, half mischief. "Like, if those guys were humans, he was the boss in the next difficulty mode."
Ashi rolled his eyes mid-bite. "Don't act like we don't know that. I already said it—anyone linked to the Council? They're monsters in uniform. Especially the eleventh- and twelfth-graders. Some of them can fold a guy just by yawning."
Tom looked between them and sighed. "Alright, enough hero worship before you two start making fan pages. What's the plan?"
Ashi shrugged lazily, flicking a grain of rice at Tom. "What's your move, Max? You always have one."
Max leaned back, silent for a few seconds. His fingers tapped the table, rhythm steady and deliberate.
Inside, his thoughts were turning—evaluating factions, motives, potential allies.
"I'm not tying myself to the Council," he said finally, voice calm but firm. "If something happens, I'll act—but only when it's necessary. No banners. No sides."
Sam nodded immediately. "Same here. If things go south, I've got your back."
Moco cracked her neck with a grin. "Count me in too. I don't care about politics—but I do care about keeping my space quiet."
Ashi tossed a napkin onto the table. "Fine. Me and Tom will stick with the Council for now. Someone's got to keep an eye on those rule-obsessed maniacs."
Tom gave a half-smile. "Deal. But we should lay low till the new batch settles. A week of observation. Minimum."
Max nodded. "Agreed. We've already drawn too much attention."
For a few moments, the only sounds were the hum of ceiling fans and the scrape of trays in the distance. Then Ashi's eyes lit up, that familiar "I'm about to start something" gleam sparking alive.
"Hey… don't we already know someone new—someone from the international level?"
Everyone turned toward Moco.
She blinked innocently. "What? Is there a problem? I did fight internationally. Not my fault you guys stayed domestic."
Sam nearly choked on his drink. "Wait—wait—so the incoming students are also international caliber?! Like—actual beasts from other schools? How the hell are we supposed to handle that!?"
Moco shrugged, smirking. "You won't. Not without me."
Tom tapped his fingers thoughtfully. "The Council alone can't handle that kind of crowd. They'll need more than rules to keep order."
Sam leaned forward eagerly. "What, like a secret weapon? Some hidden trump card?"
Ashi smirked. "Not secret exactly—but close."
Max spoke softly, his tone cooling the air around them. "The Lone Wolves are their trump card."
Sam blinked. "Wait—we're Lone Wolves too!"
Moco leaned back, folding her arms. "Correction—you're an enthusiastic stray. There's a difference."
That earned a laugh from Ashi and a quiet grin from Tom. Even Max's lips twitched, though he quickly hid it behind his cup.
Moco continued, "Lone Wolves are top-tier students who don't take Council protection, don't pay the fees, and don't care about politics. Each one's a one-man army. If they ever work together—it's coincidence, not teamwork."
Max nodded slightly. "Exactly. They don't follow rules, but they follow their own order. If chaos threatens that, they'll move. Not for the Council—for their own peace."
Sam frowned. "So… the school's planning to weaponize peace lovers? It,s like 'Council's Quiet Checkmate ' move."
Ashi snorted. "Sounds ironic, right? Using wolves to protect sheep."
Tom's voice was steady. "The Council doesn't need control. It just needs alignment. If the Lone Wolves act out of self-preservation, their chaos suppression benefits everyone."
Sam's grin widened. "So they're basically lighting a fire and hoping it burns the right things."
Moco shook her head. "Risky plan. If the Wolves get bored, they might start burning for fun."
Max met her eyes. "Then we adapt. Bam's counting on them, but we don't rely on chance. We observe. We guide the direction quietly if we must."
Ashi leaned back, kicking one leg over the other. "So we're bait, the net, and the audience, huh? Great first week."
Tom rubbed his temples. "And we still have midterms coming up. Wonderful."
Sam raised his cup like a toast. "Then let the chaos begin! I'm ready to meet some prodigies from overseas."
Ashi groaned. "You? You'll probably challenge them before saying hi."
"Of course," Sam grinned. "Friendship through fists—it's universal."
That got everyone laughing, even Max—just a small, rare chuckle.
They clinked their disposable cups together, the sound soft but sharp beneath the cafeteria's chatter. Outside, the afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows, painting golden stripes across the table.
To everyone else, it looked like a group of students sharing lunch.
To those who knew better—it was a council of future chaos.
Max's gaze drifted to the window, watching a group of new students dragging suitcases past the courtyard fountain.
So it begins, he thought.
The words "Lone Wolf" echoed faintly in his mind—part title, part warning.
He didn't like being labeled. But if that title could help shape the balance of Indus High, he'd wield it like a blade.
Quietly. Precisely.
Let them come, he thought, a faint smile touching his lips. Let's see who survives.
Just as the conversation was heating up again, Ashi's phone buzzed loudly—
RING. RING. RING.
Tom groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Didn't I tell you to keep that thing on silent?"
Ashi ignored him, flicking the screen open. But the grin that usually played on his face vanished instantly. His eyebrows twitched; his confident smirk faltered.
"Guys," he said, voice dropping, "we've got a problem."
Sam leaned in immediately. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? Spit it out already!"
Moco tilted her head, half amused. "Yeah, you're making that face again—the one before something explodes."
Tom, peeking over Ashi's shoulder, let out a low whistle. "Oh, great. This'll definitely spice things up."
Ashi turned the screen toward them. The school-wide announcement glowed across it:
> [URGENT NOTICE]
From this day onward, all students are to reside in on-campus dormitories.
No exceptions.
Applies to every student—including Student Council members.
Sam blinked. "Wait… what? Since when did the school turn into a full-time prison?"
Tom rubbed his temple. "Effective immediately, apparently."
Moco pushed her tray away and stood up, voice calm but sharp. "If that's true, I'm leaving. I've got to pack my stuff before my landlord throws a fit."
Before anyone could move, a wave of murmurs swept across the cafeteria.
One by one, phones buzzed. Screens lit up.
Gasps. Laughter. Curses.
The room's rhythm shifted completely as students started checking their own notifications.
Sam blinked around at the chaos. "Hey—where's everyone going?"
Tom stretched. "To check their dorms, obviously."
Sam groaned. "Then shouldn't we go too?"
Max stood, adjusting his collar with that quiet confidence. "Yeah. No point sitting still when the world's already moving."
Ashi pocketed his phone with a tired grin. "Tch. Indus High never gives us a break."
As they walked out, the cafeteria's noise followed them—buzzing phones, scraping chairs, shouts of dorm numbers echoing like a stampede.
Outside, sunlight hit their faces like a challenge.
A new kind of chaos was waiting—one with no escape, no breaks, and no walls between rivals.
Tom glanced sideways as they walked. "Guess peace doesn't last long here."
Max smirked. "It never does."
---
They soon reached the dormitory buildings.
Each class had its own towering structure—modern glass and stone, wide stairways, and bright banners fluttering above the entrances. Every building's gate carried a metal plate engraved with the students' names, dorm numbers, and assigned floors.
Sam's jaw dropped as they stepped into the main courtyard. "Woah… I didn't think it'd be this big! This is insane!"
Moco smirked. "What else did you expect? It's one of Asia's twelve most prestigious schools. Even the dorms look like luxury hotels."
Ashi whistled. "Alright, listen up. Check your assigned rooms first. Meet back at the exit gate in an hour."
Sam bounced like an excited kid. "This is so cool! I'm shifting here tomorrow!"
They split up—Tom and Ashi heading to their shared building, Sam and Moco laughing as they walked off together.
Max went alone.
His dorm stood slightly apart from the others—taller, quieter, and strangely older. The metal nameplate by the gate gleamed faintly under the afternoon sun.
He scanned for his name.
Max — Room No. 51 — 6th Floor.
Top floor. Of course. Late admission meant bottom of the list.
Then his eyes caught another entry—Room No. 52 — [Name Unavailable].
He frowned. Someone else was assigned up there, but their name was hidden.
Weird, he thought. But not my business.
The stairway echoed under his footsteps as he climbed. The higher he went, the quieter it became.
By the fifth floor, all doors were sealed—plastic wraps still clinging to new wood.
He reached the sixth floor at last. Only two rooms: 51 and 52.
The hallway smelled faintly of new paint. A single window spilled gold sunlight across the empty corridor.
Max stopped before his door—white, untouched, with "51" engraved neatly on the wall.
He stared at it for a moment. The silence here wasn't unsettling… just expectant.
He exhaled softly, reached out, and turned the handle.
Click.
The door opened.
---