"Honestly, Wyatt King is a very principled guy," Chairman Samuel Kingsley said thoughtfully. "As long as you don't cross him or mess with Ariana Summers, there won't be a problem."
The silver-haired woman—his mother—fell quiet, her expression complicated. Knowing someone as dangerous as Wyatt was in the same grade as her granddaughter Aria Kingsley made her uneasy.
Samuel cleared his throat and added, "To be fair, Mother, Wyatt's not the only rough student this year. A few others—mostly in Class C and Class D—aren't exactly model citizens either."
His mother's brows twitched. "One delinquent is already too much. Now there are several?"
"This is Metropolitan Prestige Academy, not a reform school for minors!" she muttered under her breath.
Seeing her mood sour, Samuel tried shifting the subject. "But really, I think it wasn't Ariana who figured out the points system so quickly. It must have been Wyatt. He's excellent in every measurable way."
"At this point, it doesn't even matter," his mother sighed. "I just hope Wyatt doesn't get involved with Aria."
Samuel didn't comment. Both of them knew Aria had a dangerous streak of her own. She loved challenges—and the thrill of defeating strong opponents. If Wyatt showed too much promise, Aria would definitely set her sights on him sooner or later.
"In any case," Samuel said quietly, "I believe Wyatt's a good kid at heart. He doesn't cause trouble without a reason."
Ironically, the boy they were calling "principled" was, at that very moment, already thinking about how to hustle points from the school's system.
—
By now, the freshman buses had arrived at the grand gates of Metropolitan Prestige Academy.
One by one, the first-year students stepped off. Wyatt King and Ariana Summers among them.
The school gates were made of natural stone, carved with intricate reliefs that gave off a sense of weight and authority.
Ariana, sticking close behind Wyatt like a quiet shadow, gazed up nervously at the imposing entrance. This was where she'd spend the next three years with Wyatt—both of them together.
"Let's go, Ariana," Wyatt said casually over his shoulder.
"…Mm." Her voice was so soft it was barely audible.
Following the flow of students in identical uniforms, Ariana walked step by step behind Wyatt like a shy little wife.
At the school entrance, four faculty members were handing out welcome packets to each student.
Inside the packet was an enrollment guide with building maps, dormitory locations, and a schedule noting that the first-years were to gather in the gymnasium by nine o'clock for the opening ceremony.
As they stepped through the gates, Wyatt casually flipped through the guide. One section listed facilities available on the island: dormitories, classrooms, gyms, karaoke rooms, theaters, coffee shops, malls—it felt more like a small city than a school.
"This is less of a school and more of a private shopping district," Wyatt muttered to himself.
Ariana, walking beside him, gave a tiny nod of agreement.
Then Wyatt stopped walking and glanced upward, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings.
"Ariana, look up. You notice anything about this place?"
"Huh?" Ariana raised her head, following his gaze—and quickly spotted the thing Wyatt had noticed.
Cameras.
Dozens of surveillance cameras, placed all over the school from rooftops to lamp posts, covering every possible angle. Almost no blind spots.
"There's so many cameras," Ariana whispered, her voice tightening. "It's kind of creepy…"
Most people didn't like being watched, but for someone as shy as Ariana, it was even worse.
And for Ariana, there was one more complication: she wasn't just a student. Secretly, she was also an online blogger and semi-professional model under the alias "Shizuka."
She always carried her camera, snapping self-portraits when no one else was around. But with this many school cameras, she wouldn't have much privacy anymore.
Wyatt clicked his tongue. "With this level of surveillance, I'll have to be more careful if I want to… do anything interesting."
Ariana flinched, grabbing hold of Wyatt's school uniform sleeve in panic.
"Wyatt, please don't! Promise me you won't get into trouble!"
He glanced down at her with a sly smile. "Me? Get into trouble? What kind of guy do you think I am?"
That confident grin made Ariana's heart skip a beat. Her pale cheeks flushed pink.
"I mean it!" she insisted. "Don't start fights like in middle school… I-I really worry about you."
"Yeah, yeah. I got it."
Wyatt's easygoing tone didn't exactly put her at ease. Ariana pouted slightly, pressing her lips together. Her childhood sweetheart really was impossible sometimes.
—
At exactly nine o'clock, the first-year students gathered in the gymnasium.
Wyatt and Ariana stood in line with the other students, arranged neatly by class.
The boys stood in one row, the girls in another.
Ariana felt strangely lucky—her position let her see Wyatt's tall, straight back just by shifting her eyes a little.
Meanwhile, Wyatt wasn't paying much attention to the speech happening up front. The school administrators were talking, but to him, it was all empty filler.
Instead, Wyatt scanned the gymnasium, quietly observing his new classmates.
Because of his mind-reading ability and sharp observation skills, he'd developed the habit of analyzing people wherever he went.
One figure in particular caught his eye.
Not far ahead of him stood a girl with long black hair, tied in a neat braid on the right side, secured with a white butterfly ribbon. Her posture was poised, strict—dignified.
Just from her back, Wyatt could tell she was the type with a serious, difficult personality.
As if sensing his gaze, the girl suddenly turned her head, her expression blank.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, Wyatt studied her face: sharp features, long lashes, and striking amber-orange eyes that reminded him of a fox—charming but unreadable.
Her name, according to the student file he'd skimmed earlier, was Suzette Horner. First-Year, Class D.
A girl not so different from himself… quiet, controlled, and clearly hiding something beneath the surface.