CHAPTER 50: The Meeting
The sharp, high-pitched ring of the school bell shattered the lingering tension in the room. Instantly, the dead silence evaporated into a flurry of motion as students grabbed their bags and crowded toward the exits.
I packed my things with trembling hands, still trying to process the absolute chaos of the twelve rules—and the terrifying fact that Victor had somehow rescued Heather from Henry's office.
"Let's get out of here," Zack said softly beside me.
I nodded, following him out into the bustling hallway. Heather and Luke joined us at the doorway, and the four of us walked toward the school cafeteria in a tight, protective formation. The surrounding corridors were a war zone of voices, every single class already arguing over the newly announced tournament parameters.
"We need to map out the roster for the team games first," Luke was saying, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced over the layout sheets. "If Rule Seven means we have to burn through every student before reusing players, we need to balance our strongest assets carefully."
"And the alliances," Heather added, her voice lower and tighter than usual, though she was forcing her normal sharp edge back into her tone. "Class C and Class A are going to want a piece of our Class Star Points. We need to establish leverage before they try to negotiate a trade."
Before Zack or I could offer a counter-strategy, a shadow fell over our group.
Ray stepped into our path, a casual but calculated smile on his face. "Hey, guys."
The four of us slowed to a stop. Zack shifted slightly, his posture instantly turning guarded as he eyed the other leader.
"We're going to have a meeting of all the class leaders and their assistants after school," Ray announced, leaning back slightly against a row of lockers. "We're meeting at the cafe near my house at 6:00 p.m. sharp."
Luke blinked, looking up from his papers. "What do you mean by 'assistants'?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," Ray replied with a slight shrug. "An assistant for the leader to help balance the weight, run the numbers, and make the actual plans. The administration is letting us bring one person to keep the strategies private." Ray offered a knowing smirk. "I already have my assistant lined up—they'll be meeting us there. So, Luke... who's your assistant going to be?"
The question hung in the air, suddenly heavy.
Luke hesitated. The easy, administrative confidence he usually carried seemed to falter for a split second. His gaze drifted away from Ray, shifting slowly, almost instinctively, toward me.
I caught his eye, my breath hitching slightly. For a fleeting moment, the noisy cafeteria hallway seemed to blur out. There was a quiet, familiar weight in the way he looked at me—the ghost of an old understanding that didn't need words, a lingering habit of turning to each other whenever a real choice had to be made. It was a silent look that belonged to a completely different chapter of our lives, one we had long since closed.
Beside me, Zack's eyes narrowed. He looked from Luke to me, a quiet flicker of confusion and sharp awareness crossing his features as he picked up on the sudden shift in the air.
Before the silence could stretch into something obvious, and before I could even open my mouth to speak, Heather stepped forward.
"It's me, Ray," Heather intervened smoothly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife as she locked her eyes onto him. "I'm his assistant. We'll see you there at six."
"Looks like you're going to have a meeting, huh?"
The new voice cut through the mounting tension. Irfan strolled over to our group, his hands slid casually into his pockets, looking entirely too relaxed for a guy who had just been handed a twelve-rule blueprint for institutional warfare.
Luke's gaze tore away from me, darting back to Irfan as he tried to regain his composure. "Yeah. What about you?"
Irfan shrugged, a light, easygoing smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you know how it is. The second-years are pretty cool with each other. There's only healthy competition between our classes—nothing more, nothing less. We aren't trying to throat-cut each other just yet."
While Luke and Irfan kept talking, a sudden shift in the air made the hairs on my arms stand up. Zack stepped closer to me, his shadow completely blocking out the chaotic hallway. He leaned down, his voice a low, private murmur meant for my ears alone.
"Why are you so nervous, Jane?"
My heart did a violent flip. I forced my face into a mask of pure innocence, looking up at him. "No, I'm not nervous."
Zack didn't buy it for a second. His dark eyes drilled into mine, sharp and unyielding. "Then why did you look at him like that?"
I froze, completely captured by the intensity of his stare. The weight of his question trapped the breath in my throat. I couldn't explain the old, unspoken history with Luke without making it sound like it still mattered, but my silence was only making Zack's grip on the situation tighten.
Sensing my panic, Heather immediately stepped in. "Jane, we have an important meeting to get to right now," she announced loudly, throwing a protective arm around my shoulder and grabbing my hand to pull me away.
But we didn't move an inch.
Zack's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around my other wrist. The grip wasn't hurtful, but it was absolute. He anchored me right where I stood. "Jane is not going anywhere until I get an answer," he said, his deep voice carrying a chilling edge of finality as he looked directly at Heather.
Heather didn't back down. She matched his glare, her jaw tightening. "Let go of her, Zack. It's a girls' thing, and you shouldn't be interrupting it."
Before Zack could counter, Heather effectively shut him down with a sharp, warning look that brooked no argument. Capitalizing on his split-second hesitation, she firmly pried his fingers off my wrist, grabbed my arm, and dragged me quickly down the hallway, leaving the boys behind.
Zack stood frozen for a moment, his eyes burning into the back of my head as we retreated. When I finally vanished around the corner, he slowly turned his head to look at Luke.
Luke was already glancing right back at him, his expression unreadable but entirely guarded. The unspoken tension between the two of them was thick enough to suffocate.
Zack took a step toward him, his jaw set. "So. Tell me."
"Hey, hold on a second," Ray interrupted, stepping smoothly between them with a faint smile, completely shattering the confrontation. He turned his attention toward Zack. "Since we're putting everything on the table, I want to invite you to this meeting tonight too, Zack. As a powerhouse in your class, the other leaders are going to need your input if we're going to make this tournament work."
Zack hesitated, his eyes darting from Ray back to the empty hallway where I had just disappeared. He clearly had no interest in a political boardroom meeting when his mind was fixed on what I was hiding.
"You should come, Zack," Luke added, his voice steady as he insisted on Ray's invitation. "Ray's right. If we're going to survive whatever Peterson and the administration are throwing at us, we need our strongest players in that room."
Once we were safely clear of the crowded main corridor, the heavy silence between us broke.
"What is it, Heather?" I asked, pulling my hand back as we slowed our pace in the quieter side hallway.
Heather didn't answer right away. She just stopped and turned to face me, her arms crossed tight over her chest.
"What do you mean, Miss Frost?" she countered, throwing my own last name back at me with a sharp, heavy seriousness. "I don't get it, Jane."
I looked at her, my voice trembling slightly. "I don't get it either, Heather."
Heather looked straight at me, her sharp eyes cutting right through my defensive front. "Really, Jane? Why did you hide it from him?"
I looked down instantly, my eyes fixing on the linoleum floor as the weight of the secret pressed heavily on my chest. "The truth may hurt him," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.
"Yeah, but if he finds out by himself, it will break him, girl," Heather shot back, her tone sharp with genuine frustration. "Are you stupid?"
The bluntness of her words stung, snapping something inside me. I raised my head, my eyes locking onto hers as a surge of pent-up adrenaline took over. "Well, then tell me—how did you get out of detention? And tell me, how did that video get sent online?"
The moment the questions left my mouth, Heather flinched. The defensive, lecture-ready mask she was wearing completely shattered. She averted her gaze, shifting her weight as she suddenly found the empty lockers next to us incredibly interesting, completely unable to hold eye contact with me.
A cold, heavy realization settled into my stomach. I looked at my best friend, shaking my head. "I can't believe a day like this could come," I said quietly, the disappointment bitter on my tongue.
I turned on my heel, ready to walk away and just be alone with my thoughts before the next period started.
"Jane," Heather called out to my back, her voice dropping to a raw, desperate whisper that made me freeze in my tracks.
I didn't turn around, but I listened.
"It's Victor," she admitted, her breath hitching slightly. "He's the one who helped me out."
I slowly turned back to face her, my mind reeling. "What do you mean, Heather? What kind of favor?"
Heather shifted uncomfortably, her usual composure completely failing her. She stumbled over her words, her voice shaking. "He... he said this is a favor for doing what is right. That's all he told me, Jane."
She stepped closer, looking directly into my eyes, her expression pleading with me to understand.
"And the video?" I pressed, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Did he have something to do with the video being leaked online?"
Heather didn't answer right away. She looked down, biting her lip before looking back up at me with absolute sincerity. "He said he didn't know anything about the video, Jane. I swear."
The heavy tension that had built up between us finally began to soften. Looking at her anxious face, I realized that no matter how terrifying Victor's involvement was, Heather was still my best friend.
"It's okay, Heather," I said softly, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I believe you."
A wave of relief washed over Heather's face. I took a step forward and offered a small, appreciative smile. "And... thank you. For helping me back there with Zack."
Heather's expression warmed, her familiar confidence slipping back into place. "Always, Jane."
With the air between us finally cleared, we turned and walked together toward the school cafeteria to find the others.
I looked up at Zack, the intensity in his dark eyes suddenly feeling entirely too heavy to carry on top of everything else. I needed a moment to breathe, to sort through the chaos of Victor's favor, the leaked video, and the weight of the upcoming tournament.
"Zack, please," I said softly, keeping my voice steady but firm. "Just give me some space right now."
Zack stared at me for a long, quiet second, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought he was going to push past my defenses again, but then his jaw relaxed just a fraction. He took a slow step back, giving me the room I asked for with a silent, guarded nod.
After that, the rest of the school day blurred together in a strange, clockwork rhythm.
(Jane's Monologue)
Everything went exactly in the order it was supposed to. The afternoon periods rolled by one after the other, a monotonous routine of turning pages, scratching pens, and teachers drone-lecturing at the front of the chalkboard as if our entire world hadn't just been rewritten by twelve systemic rules. It was almost jarring how normal it all felt on the surface. We sat through the remaining classes, took our notes, and changed rooms when the bells rang, but beneath the quiet, disciplined routine of the school day, the atmosphere was entirely charged. You could see it in the way people held themselves—the hushed whispers during group work, the sharp, calculating glances exchanged across the rows of desks, and the tight, anxious huddles forming the second a teacher turned their back. The storm was coming, and we were all just playing our parts, waiting for the clock to hit dismissal.
When the final bell of the day finally rang, signaling the end of the classes, the real game was about to begin. It was almost 6:00 p.m.
The clock was ticking closer to six, and the nervous energy inside Heather's bedroom was practically a physical presence.
Heather was standing in front of her full-length mirror, frantically pulling her outfit together and adjusting her collar for the upcoming meeting. I was completely exhausted, lying face down across her unmade bed, watching her slide a silver watch onto her wrist. The sheer weight of the impending tournament, the alliances, and the secrets was giving me a headache.
"You know, Heather," I muttered into the mattress, my voice muffled. "You don't have to push yourself this hard for the tournament. You're already taking on the assistant role, and after everything with Henry's office..."
Heather stopped mid-motion. She turned around to face me, holding a hairbrush in one hand, her expression dead serious.
"Do you really think I'm doing all this just for some school tournament?" Heather countered, her voice sharp. "Jane, I'm doing this so Zack won't suspect you."
I sat up on the bed, my brow furrowing as I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"Ray told me everything," Heather said, turning back to the mirror to fix her hair. "He said that the moment you looked at Luke back in the hallway, Zack's entire demeanor changed. He felt it instantly. Zack is already tracking the shift between you two, Jane. I stepped in as Luke's assistant to throw him off the scent and keep his eyes off you."
A sudden, breathless laugh escaped my throat. I couldn't help it.
Heather whirled around, her eyebrows snapping together in genuine annoyance. "What? Why are you laughing? This isn't a joke, Jane."
I shook my head, sitting cross-legged on the mattress, a wry smile cutting through my exhaustion. "Wait... Ray told you? Ray came up to you and whispered all of that in your ear?"
"Yeah," Heather said defensively, crossing her arms. "He brought it up right after the hallway cleared out."
I leaned forward, my laughter fading into a sharp, focused curiosity as I locked my eyes onto hers. "So tell me, Heather... how long have you been talking with Ray behind my back?"
"What?" Heather stammered, quickly turning back to the mirror to hide her face. "I haven't been talking to him behind your back. He just... he brought it up because he was concerned. About the class. About you."
I watched her closely, noticing the subtle, nervous rhythm in how she was suddenly rearranging the perfume bottles on her dresser. Ray was sharp. As the leader of Class D, he was always calculating three steps ahead of the other third-year classes. And right now, it felt like he was playing a completely different game—one that involved my best friend.
"Concerned about me?" I asked, leaning back against her headboard. "Heather, Ray is the leader of Class D. He's our direct competitor in this tournament. Why would he suddenly care about my stress levels?"
"Because he's not like Victor or Henry, Jane," Heather said, her voice dropping its defensive edge, replaced by something softer, almost protective. She turned around, her eyes bright. "He told me that Zack's temper is a liability for our class, and that Zack pushing you is only going to fracture our team before the tournament even starts. Ray told me he wanted to give me the assistant position at the meeting so I could have the leverage to protect you from being caught in the middle."
She looked down at her hands, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He was really sweet about it. He said he respects how fiercely loyal I am to you. He told me... he wishes he had an assistant who cared about him the way I care about you."
A cold realization washed over me. Ray wasn't just observing our class dynamics; he was weaponizing them. He knew Heather's biggest vulnerability was her fierce, protective loyalty to me. By positioning himself as my silent ally and feeding Heather inside information to 'save' me from Zack's suspicion, he was perfectly molding himself into the exact type of guy Heather would trust. He was using me as the bridge to make her fall for him.
"Heather," I said gently, sitting up. "He's using my situation to get close to you. He's making himself look like the hero by catering to how much you care about me."
"That's not true," Heather muttered, though her voice lacked its usual sharp certainty. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing slightly as she tried to defend him. "He doesn't have to do that. He's just... he's different when we talk alone, Jane. He really cares about making sure we don't get crushed by the administration."
She looked at the clock on her nightstand and gasped. "Look at the time, it's almost 5:45. I need to go or I'll be late for the meeting at the cafe."
Before I could say anything else, she grabbed her bag, completely avoiding my eyes, and rushed out the door—leaving me alone in the quiet room, wondering just how deep the Class D leader's hooks already were.
I hurried down the stairs, leaving the quiet tension of Jane's room behind me, my mind a chaotic blur of thoughts.
Am I really falling for Ray?
I shook my head vigorously as I walked out into the cool evening air, trying to dismiss the ridiculous notion. No way. There was absolutely no way I would fall for a guy like him. He's the leader of Class D, for heaven's sake. He's a direct competitor. But as I unlocked my car, a stubborn voice in the back of my mind whispered a frustrating truth: he really was different whenever he spoke to me alone. He wasn't the calculating class leader; he was attentive, gentle, and seemingly focused entirely on me.
I climbed into my yellow car, tossed my bag into the passenger seat, and started the engine. Throwing the car into drive, I navigated the streets, pulling up to the cafe near Ray's house just as the clock neared 6:00 p.m.
The little bell chimed above me as I pushed open the glass door. I scanned the room, fully expecting to see Luke, Zack, and the other class representatives already huddled over tables. Instead, the cafe was mostly empty. The only person there was Ray, sitting by the window with two cups of coffee already on the table.
I blinked in surprise, but quickly masked it with my usual confident stride. Walking over to his table, I threw a playful smirk his way. "Looks like I am right on time."
Ray looked up from his phone, his face instantly lighting up the moment he saw me. "As always," he replied, standing up to greet me. His eyes drifted over my outfit, taking in the way I had styled myself for the evening, and a genuine smile broke across his face. "You look beautiful today, Heather."
I paused, raising a sharp eyebrow at him. I crossed my arms, a dangerous spark of amusement in my eyes. "So... I am not beautiful everyday?"
Ray's eyes widened slightly, caught completely off guard. "No, no! I mean... today you look extraordinary."
I didn't let him off the hook. I stepped closer, leaning in just a fraction with a teasing pout. "So everyday I am just an ordinary girl to you?"
Ray completely froze, utterly speechless. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out as he scrambled to find a way to fix his blunder, his usual smooth, diplomatic confidence totally evaporating under my gaze.
Seeing him completely defeated, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing, the tension breaking instantly. "I'm just teasing you. Thank you, Ray."
I slid into the seat opposite him, shaking my head as I remembered my conversation with Jane. "You know, Jane actually thinks that we are in some kind of dating or talking stage."
Ray seemed genuinely surprised, his posture stiffening slightly as he looked at me, waiting to see what I would say next.
I just chuckled, leaning back in my chair quite casually. "I mean, it's crazy, right? How would I ever date someone who is basically like a brother to me?"
Ray's smile dropped instantly. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy stillness as his posture stiffened.
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice laced with a thick, unmistakable wave of disappointment. "Brother."
"Ouch. Looks like you're just a brother to her, boss."
The mocking voice cut through the air as Adrian, Ray's assistant, strolled up to the table. He was wearing a massive, smug grin, having clearly overheard the tail end of our conversation.
Before Ray could even snap back, another voice chimed in from the entrance of the cafe. "Who knows? Maybe even more."
I turned my head to see Ashley, the Class B leader, walking in with her assistant, Berry, close behind her. Ashley had a knowing, amused smirk plastered on her face as she approached our table.
Ray's cheeks flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. He shot a glaring look at his assistant. "Shut up, Adrian."
Adrian just chuckled, completely unbothered by the death stare, and slid into the booth right next to Ray. Ashley and Berry didn't wait for an invitation either; they pulled out the remaining chairs and sat down with us, officially crashing our quiet pre-meeting.
Ray cleared his throat, quickly trying to shake off the awkwardness Adrian and Ashley had just dumped on him. He leaned forward, looking around the small gathering. "Looks like only two leaders attended the meeting."
"Luke will be on his way to attend this meeting," I interjected quickly, defense mechanisms kicking in to make sure our class didn't look disorganized in front of the Class B and Class D leaders.
Berry leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know whether Victor will attend this meeting, though. You can never really guess what he's thinking."
Right on cue, the glass door of the cafe swung open, the little bell ringing out like a warning sign.
"My apologies," a cool, distinct voice resonated through the room.
It was Victor John. He stepped inside, completely commanding the room's atmosphere without even trying. Right behind him was his assistant, Isabelle Rin, her expression as calm and unreadable as his.
Berry let out a low chuckle, nudging Ashley. "Speak of the devil, here he comes."
I watched Victor as he walked toward the table, a cold shiver running down my spine as I remembered everything he had done behind the scenes—getting me out of detention, pulling strings, playing a dangerous game with all of us.
Who knows? I thought bitterly, my eyes locking onto him. Maybe he really is the devil.
Victor and Isabelle took their seats at the expanding table, the air growing noticeably heavier the moment they sat down. But before anyone could start the official briefing, the door opened once more, and a familiar wave of relief washed over me.
Zack and Luke had finally arrived.
My bad, I totally got Berry's gender wrong. Let's make sure she is properly placed in the scene as Ashley's assistant.
Here is the fixed version with Berry as a girl:
"Sorry we're late," Luke said as soon as they reached the table, running a hand through his hair. Zack just muttered a gruff apology under his breath, still looking annoyed from whatever had happened on the ride over.
Ashley leaned back, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she looked up at them. "Don't worry, darlings. No one is here to judge you."
Zack didn't even bother to reply to her, completely ignoring the comment as he pulled out a chair.
Berry, however, wasn't about to let them off that easily. She crossed her arms, looking at them with a curious, amused expression. "So, why are you guys actually late?"
"Zack is the one who delayed us," Luke sighed, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"Hey, it's not my fault that my socks were hiding in your car, Luke!" Zack defended himself loudly, crossing his arms aggressively.
The table went entirely quiet for a second. Isabelle blinked, her calm face cracking into a look of sheer bewilderment. She looked between the two of them. "Wait... why were his socks hiding in your car, Luke?"
Zack smirked, leaning forward and glaring at Luke. "Yeah. Answer them, Luke."
The whole thing was devolving into a ridiculous, embarrassing spectacle right in front of our main competitors. I felt my temples throb. Before Luke could say a single word and turn this into a full-blown comedy routine, I lost my patience.
Smack!
I slammed both hands flat against the table, the sharp noise cutting through their bickering instantly. Everyone at the table jumped slightly, turning to look at me.
"Shut up, both of you!" I hissed, glaring daggers at Luke and Zack. "We are in public. Stop making a scene and sit down before you completely embarrass our class any more than you already have."
They both froze, seeing the genuine fury in my eyes, and finally shut their mouths, realizing I wasn't playing around.
Ray let out a slow exhale, his energy completely drained from the sudden shift in the room's dynamic. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking tiredly at the menu before focusing back on the table. "Well... let's start the meeting, shall we?"
"Yep, let's do this," Ashley agreed, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Ray nodded, turning his attention to the head of the table. "Victor, why don't you start us off?"
Victor closed his eyes for a brief moment, then looked around at all of us, his expression perfectly stoic. "As you know, I am the leader of Class A."
"And I am his assistant," Isabelle added smoothly right after him, her posture flawless.
"I am the leader of Class B," Ashley chimed in, pointing a manicured finger at herself, "and Berry here is my assistant." Berry gave a sharp, professional nod to confirm.
Luke cleared his throat, stepping up to represent our group. "I am the leader of Class C, and Heather is my assistant."
"And Zack is our powerhouse," I added firmly, making sure everyone at the table remembered exactly what kind of muscle we brought to the table. Zack just crossed his arms, giving a dark, silent nod.
"And finally," Ray concluded, gesturing between himself and the guy sitting next to him, "I am the leader of Class D, and Adrian is my assistant."
With the formal introductions out of the way, the heavy, competitive tension returned to the table. The lines were drawn, and the meeting was officially in session.
Ray leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as his expression grew serious. "For this tournament, everyone needs to give their absolute all. But let's make one thing clear: this needs to be a healthy tournament, not a playground for personal revenge. Do we all agree to this?"
Luke nodded immediately, raising his hand, and Ray did the same. "Class C and Class D agree," Luke said.
Victor looked around the table, his expression unreadable, before slowly raising his hand as well. "Class A agrees."
But as I looked around, the room fell into a tense, heavy silence. I kept my hands firmly placed on the table, refusing to lift them. Across from me, Ashley and Berry sat perfectly still, their arms crossed. Class B wasn't budging, and neither was I.
Victor's eyes drifted toward Class B, a cold, mocking smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like Class B is trying to act nice?"
"No, we are not acting like you, Victor," Ashley shot back instantly, her tone dripping with venom.
Luke frowned, looking between them, trying to keep the peace. "So, looks like you hold a grudge?"
Berry snapped her eyes over to Luke, her gaze sharp. "Mind your own business, Luke."
Ray sighed, but then his eyes landed on me. He looked genuinely confused, his voice softening slightly as he spoke directly to me. "Why aren't you raising your hand, Heather? Even your leader is agreeing to this."
I didn't blink. I kept my posture rigid and my voice completely steady. "He will. But not me."
As the words left my mouth, I shifted my gaze across the table. Victor was watching me, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face, as if everything was falling exactly into his hands.
Here is the corrected scene with the accurate terms:
Ray tapped his fingers against his coffee cup, his mind clearly working through a strategic fallback plan now that a total peace treaty was off the table.
"If we can't all agree on a clean slate, then how about an alliance within ourselves?" Ray proposed, looking around at the four classes. "We can coordinate our points so that we all finish with the exact same Class Star Points (C.S.P). We can let the final tiebreaker be determined purely by our average Student Star Points (S.S.P). That way, no single class gets completely crushed by the system, and it keeps the playing field fair."
Ashley's eyes lit up, and she tapped her manicured nails on the table in approval. "Yeah, that's actually a good idea. It mitigates the risk for everyone, especially with how unpredictable the administrative rules are this year. Class B accepts."
Luke looked over at me, weighing the options, but before our class could even voice an opinion, a low, cold chuckle cut through the agreement.
"I don't think that's a good idea at all," Victor said smoothly.
The entire table shifted their attention to the Class A leader. He leaned back in his chair, his expression an absolute picture of calm arrogance, while Isabelle sat beside him, perfectly poised.
"And why is that, Victor?" Ray asked, his voice tightening. "It protects everyone."
"It protects the weak," Victor corrected bluntly, his dark eyes locking onto Ray, then sweeping across the rest of us. "An alliance like that only benefits classes that are afraid of their own shadows. Class A has no intention of capping our Class Star Points just to hand out safety nets to the rest of you. If your students can't maintain their Student Star Points under pressure, they deserve to drop ranks."
"You're just assuming you're going to win, aren't you?" Ashley snapped, her temper flaring at his condescending tone. "The rules of this tournament are designed to exploit solo classes, Victor. If you go in alone, you're making yourself a target for everyone else."
Victor's knowing smile only deepened, completely unbothered by her threat. "Then make me a target, Ashley. But let's be real—none of you actually trust each other enough to maintain a point-sharing alliance anyway. The moment one of your classes drops too low, you'll betray each other to save yourselves." He leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. "Class A plays to dominate, not to tie."
Despite the rising tension at the table and Victor's blatant provocation, Zack didn't even speak a word. He just sat there, his massive arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze fixed entirely on his coffee cup. Usually, any insult from a rival leader—especially Victor—would have had Zack slamming his fists and shouting. His absolute stillness was almost unnerving.
Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and tilting his head as he stared down our powerhouse. "So, tell me, Zack," Adrian prodded, a challenging smirk playing on his lips. "The legendary hothead of Class C has nothing to say about this? Victor basically just called your entire class weak. You just gonna sit there and take that?"
Zack remained entirely silent. He didn't even blink. A tense muscle twitched in his jaw, but he kept his mouth locked tight, refusing to give Adrian, or anyone else at the table, the satisfaction of a reaction.
I glanced at Zack from the corner of my eye, a sudden wave of realization hitting me. He was actually holding back. He was honoring the warning I had just given him moments ago about not making a scene in public. For someone with a temper as explosive as Zack's, the sheer amount of willpower it took to swallow Victor's insults and ignore Adrian's bait was staggering.
The silence stretched, turning incredibly awkward for Adrian, who was left hanging without the explosive outburst he was clearly fishing for. Ashley chuckled softly behind her hand, amused by how thoroughly Adrian had just been shut down by a brick wall of silence.
Ray quickly cleared his throat, trying to salvage the meeting before the quiet grew any heavier. "Right. Well, if Class A is refusing the alliance and Class C is staying silent for now, it looks like we need to rethink how these Star Points are going to be managed."
Victor's eyes slowly drifted from Adrian over to Zack, his analytical gaze assessing the silence. A small, almost imperceptible tilt of his head showed he was calculating exactly why our usual loose cannon hadn't fired yet.
"Impressive," Victor murmured smoothly, breaking the quiet. "It seems Class C has actually managed to put a leash on its most volatile asset. Tell me, Luke, did you have to threaten him, or did Heather just snap her fingers?"
Luke opened his mouth to defend Zack, but I beat him to it. I leaned forward, letting my gaze sweep over Victor, Adrian, and the rest of the table. "It's called discipline, Victor. Something Class A might mistake for weakness, but we call strategy. Zack knows exactly when it's worth speaking—and right now, listening to you boast about a victory you haven't earned isn't worth his breath."
Zack's jaw tightened even further, a subtle acknowledgment of my words, but he strictly kept his promise. He didn't break.
Ashley let out a sharp, amused laugh, clearly enjoying the friction. "Oof. Straight to the throat, Heather. I love it. But let's look at the reality here. If Victor wants to play the lone wolf and hoard all the Class Star Points for himself, he's actively forcing the rest of us to look at each other."
She turned her eyes away from Victor and focused entirely on Ray and Luke. "If Class A refuses the terms, then the alliance stands between Class B, C, and D. We pool our C.S.P strategies together, isolate Class A during the exam phases, and let our individual Student Star Points settle the score among ourselves. What do you say, Luke? Ray?"
Ray looked thoughtful, his diplomatic instincts kicking back in. "A three-class alliance is statistically viable. It completely changes the point distribution curves. If we target Class A's resource streams collectively, Victor's choice to play alone becomes his biggest liability."
Isabelle Rin, sitting perfectly upright beside Victor, finally spoke, her voice cool and precise. "You are operating under the assumption that a three-way alliance can actually maintain stability. History dictates that the moment one of your classes faces elimination, the pact will dissolve. You are attempting to build a fortress out of sand."
"Maybe," I challenged, locking eyes with Isabelle. "But we'll see who gets washed away first when the tide comes in."
Zack finally shifted, the leather of his jacket creaking in the tense quiet. He slowly uncrossed his arms, and everyone at the table immediately locked eyes on him.
"Yep," Zack grunted, his voice low and gravelly. "That's right."
I let out a tiny breath I hadn't realized I was holding, a small smirk forming on my lips. Good, I thought, assuming he was backing me up and standing firmly with our class, Ray, and the idea of freezing Victor out. "Exactly. Glad to see you're finally on the same page, Zack."
But Zack didn't look at me. His heavy gaze stayed fixed entirely on the middle of the table. "You misunderstood me, Heather," he said bluntly. "I'm not supporting Ray's little alliance idea. I'm saying Victor is right."
My smirk vanished instantly. I blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"
"Victor is right about alliances," Zack continued, his tone dark and unwavering as he glanced toward the Class B table. "Because Class B is something you can never, ever believe. Putting our trust in them is just asking for a knife in the back."
The words hit the table like a lead weight.
Ashley's playful demeanor shattered in a millisecond. Her face went pale, then quickly flushed with a mix of sharp hurt and sudden anger. She leaned forward, her manicured nails practically digging into the wood of the table.
"What do you mean by that, Zack?!" she demanded, her voice cracking slightly with an emotion she couldn't quite hide. "How can you sit there and say that about us? We've known each other since childhood! Back when everything was a mess, you only had me at that time. Have you seriously forgotten that?"
Berry looked over at her leader anxiously, her hands tensing, while Ray and Adrian watched the sudden personal drama unfold in complete silence. Even Victor's smug smile faded into a look of quiet, calculating interest, his eyes darting between Zack and Ashley.
Ashley was practically vibrating with defensive energy, waiting, pleading for him to take it back or explain himself.
But Zack just went cold again. The raw emotion in her voice seemed to bounce right off him. He closed his mouth, crossed his arms back over his chest, and sank back into his chair. He returned to his wall of absolute silence, refusing to meet her eyes, leaving her childhood defense hanging heavily in the air without a single response.
Ray rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to salvage some order from the increasingly fractured discussion. "Alright," he said, exhaling slowly. "If we're done trying to kill each other for five seconds, does Class C have an actual strategy proposal?"
The question shifted the room's attention toward our side of the table.
Luke leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping absently against the rim of his coffee cup as though he had already been turning the thought over in his head.
"Actually," he said after a beat, his voice steadier than before, "yeah."
Zack glanced sideways at him but stayed silent.
Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table. "Forget alliances for a second. We're thinking too big."
Victor's gaze narrowed slightly.
Luke continued, gesturing calmly toward the papers scattered across the table.
"The administration already made one thing obvious. These rules are built to punish classes that burn through their strongest players too fast." He looked between Ray and Ashley. "Rule Seven alone makes that pretty clear."
Ashley tilted her head. "Go on."
Luke nodded once.
"So we stop treating every event like a final boss fight."
The table quieted.
"We divide students into performance tiers," Luke explained. "Top-tier performers, middle-tier performers, and lower-tier performers."
Berry frowned immediately. "That sounds harsh."
"It's realistic," Luke replied bluntly.
He pointed toward Zack without even looking at him.
"You don't throw someone like Zack into every challenge just because he can win. That's stupid resource management."
Zack grunted softly but didn't argue.
Luke continued.
"We intentionally control where we spend our strongest people. Smaller events? Mid and lower performers handle them. Let them take manageable losses if they have to."
Ashley straightened in her chair. "Wait. You're saying we deliberately lose?"
"Not lose," Luke corrected. "Control losses."
He tapped the table for emphasis.
"If we burn our monsters too early, they'll be exhausted by the time the real high-value rounds hit. Meanwhile, everyone else will already know how they operate."
Ray's expression shifted thoughtfully.
Luke leaned back again, crossing his arms.
"You preserve your best assets for events that actually matter. Leadership matches. High C.S.P rounds. Major eliminations." His eyes flickered briefly toward Victor. "The battles worth winning."
For a brief moment, the room actually went quiet.
Then Victor chuckled.
Low.
Cold.
Disappointingly amused.
"I expected better."
The air shifted instantly.
Victor folded his hands neatly in front of him, his expression unreadable.
"Your proposal relies on mediocrity."
Luke's jaw tightened.
Victor tilted his head slightly.
"You are essentially asking exceptional students to compensate for weakness." His dark eyes swept across the table. "Tell me, Luke—why should competence suffer to protect incompetence?"
Ashley frowned.
Victor continued smoothly.
"If weaker students collapse under pressure, then they collapse. That is the natural outcome of competition." His gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly. "Resources should be invested in proven assets, not wasted preserving liabilities."
Zack's fingers twitched once against his arm.
Ray exhaled quietly, rubbing his temple.
"I actually don't agree with Victor," Ray said carefully, "but I don't think Luke's plan works either."
Luke turned toward him. "Why?"
Ray leaned forward.
"Because people aren't machines."
His voice softened slightly.
"The second students realize leadership is deliberately throwing weaker players into sacrificial rounds, morale dies."
Berry nodded slowly.
Ray continued.
"They stop trusting us. Panic spreads. Resentment spreads faster." He glanced between Luke and Heather. "And once a class stops believing leadership actually cares about them? You lose more than Star Points."
Silence settled briefly over the table.
"Trust," Ray finished quietly. "And trust is harder to rebuild than points."
Ashley crossed her arms thoughtfully.
Victor simply leaned back again, entirely unbothered.
Luke looked down at the table, jaw tightening as frustration flickered across his face.
For the first time since the meeting started—
Class C had proposed something.
And both Class A and Class D had torn it apart.
I felt a hot prickle of irritation wash over me as I watched Luke stare down at the table. He had actually put thought into this, trying to navigate the brutal framework the school had forced on us, only to have it picked apart from two completely opposite sides.
"So that's it?" I spoke up, my voice cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over the booth. I leaned forward, looking directly at Ray, then shifting my gaze to Victor. "One of you wants to treat people like expendable statistics, and the other is too worried about hurt feelings to see the bigger picture."
Ray looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes at my sharp tone, but I didn't back down.
"Ray, you're talking about morale and trust like we're running a summer camp," I said, gesturing to the papers between us. "This is a tournament. If we don't manage our resources logically, everyone loses their Star Points. How's your class morale going to look when Class D is sitting at the bottom of the rankings because you were too afraid to make the hard calls?"
Ray opened his mouth to answer, his expression troubled, but I turned my attention straight to Victor before Ray could speak.
"And as for you," I continued, my eyes narrowing at the Class A leader. "You call it protecting incompetence. I call it hiding your cards. You're so obsessed with your own dominance that you'd show the entire school exactly how your best assets move in the very first week. That's not strength, Victor. That's just predictable."
Victor didn't flinch. The cold, amused smile remained fixed on his face, though his eyes sharpened as he locked onto me. "Predictability is only a weakness if the opponent has the capability to stop you, Heather. Class A doesn't need to hide."
"Every wall crumbles if you hit the right spot enough times," Zack muttered suddenly, breaking his long silence. His voice was incredibly low, almost like a growl, his eyes fixed dead on Victor.
Ashley looked between Zack and me, her hands still tightly clenched, the lingering sting of Zack's earlier rejection mixing with the current tactical debate. "For once, I actually agree with Heather," she said, her voice strained but firm. "Victor's arrogance is going to make Class A a massive target. But Luke... sacrificing the lower-tier students, even controlled losses, puts a massive target on our backs as leaders."
"It's not a sacrifice if it's calculated to save them in the long run," Luke argued, his voice tight as he finally looked up, grateful for the backup but clearly frustrated by the gridlock.
The table was completely fractured now. Class A was isolated by choice, Class B was hurting and defensive, Class D was clinging to a moral high ground that might sink them, and our own class was a powder keg of buried history and desperate strategy.
I leaned back in my chair, my heart hammering against my ribs as I looked around at all of them. The meeting hadn't even officially concluded, and yet the lines were so deeply drawn I could practically see the sparks flying across the table. We weren't just competing anymore; the psychological warfare had already begun.