The classroom was still tense from what Code 11 had just said.
The silence was heavy. Not even the sound of breathing could escape.
Code stared at the glowing screen in front of them, his reflection caught in the blue light. His thoughts echoed inside him.
We're just slaves… to our masters… and to the Obedience Code.
The words felt like chains clamping onto his chest.
But before he could sink deeper into that thought, Code 11's cold voice cut through the silence.
"This rating," she said, her tone sharp like a blade, "may as well determine the type of treatment you will receive during your stay in this academy."
The girl beside Code frowned, whispering under her breath, Treatment…?
Code 11's piercing eyes scanned the room. "Your rating determines the quality of what you can buy at the canteen, the mall, and other academic resources."
Caden's lips curled into a grin. He nudged Torin with his elbow. "Do you hear that, Torin? We can buy things for free!"
But Torin adjusted his shirt collar, shaking his head. "I get that… but if our ratings are low, the quality will be trash. I'd rather take quality over quantity."
Their voices were cut off as Code 11's voice cracked like thunder.
"Who said anything about buying free things?"
Both boys froze, their faces drained of color.
At the front, a girl raised her hand timidly. Her tone was sweet, almost melodic. "Code 11… can I please call you ma'am?" She smiled softly. "It feels disrespectful to just call you '11.'"
Code 11's gaze turned on her, cold and sharp. "I prefer to be called Code 11."
"But… as a teacher, that feels wrong," the girl pressed gently. "I think I'll call you ma'am."
Lily, sitting just behind her, panicked. "Ivy… I don't think you're allowed to do that. Not everyone is as sweet as you."
Ivy turned, her soft golden hair swaying, and flashed Lily a carefree smile. "But we can't just call her '11,' can we?"
Lily's voice trembled. "What if it's against the rules? You saw what happened to that boy… Ben."
Ivy shook her head lightly, still smiling. "I don't think that's against the rules." She turned back to Code 11, her eyes glittering. "Isn't that right, ma'am?"
For a long moment, Code 11 just stared at her. The entire class held its breath. The air felt charged, like lightning about to strike.
Finally, Code 11's voice cut through the tension. "No. It's not against the rules."
Ivy's smile widened, warm and unshaken. "Then I shall call you ma'am."
Code watched her quietly, his thoughts heavy. How can she be so carefree in a place like this? Someone like her… is rare.
"Fine," Code 11 said flatly. "Now, Ivy… tell me what you wanted to say."
"Yes, ma'am." Ivy's voice carried that same sweetness. "You said we can't get things for free. So what do we use to buy? The school didn't allow us to bring any money."
Code 11's eyes narrowed, her voice slicing through the air. "That's why you will all work… as slaves."
The words stabbed through the silence. A chilling wave swept the classroom.
"Now," Code 11's tone deepened, "tell me. What happens when a worker, or a cleaner, does their job well?"
Ivy hesitated, then answered softly, "They… get paid their salaries."
"Correct." Code 11's lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer. "The same will happen here. Your masters will not only assign you ratings… they will also pay you your salaries."
The class erupted into whispers. Fear. Confusion. Rumors flew like sparks in the air.
Code looked at code 11. So… we get paid by our masters for the work we do. Just like adults working their jobs. We're working for our money… but we're just students.
Code 11's sharp voice cut through the whispers. "You all have to work for your money. If you don't work, you don't get paid. And if you don't get paid… you starve."
A boy with glasses stood up suddenly, his chair screeching against the floor. His eyes burned behind the glass. "Ma'am—our masters! The ones we're supposed to work for—who are they exactly? Politicians? School authorities? We need to know!"
"Your masters," Code 11 said calmly, "are students."
The class erupted in chaos.
"What?!" the boy shouted. "Students?! You mean… like us?! How do you expect us to serve students like us? Doesn't this academy run on equality? Or… does equality not exist here at all?"
Everyone nodded, voices rising in agreement.
But Code 11 raised her hand, and with a single snap of her fingers, a pulse of blue energy spread across the classroom like a wave, silencing everyone.
"The only equals I see here," she said coldly, "are the Grents. Those above you are not your equals. They are your masters. They are superior."
The silence was suffocating.
Her gaze cut like a blade as she turned to Lily. "And if anyone still wants to test me, it wouldn't hurt to lower the headcount of the Grents class by one. Don't you think so… Lily?"
Lily trembled, her face pale. She didn't dare look up. "…Y-yes, ma'am."
The boy with glasses clenched his fists, trying to speak, but Ivy's soft voice cut through the tension.
"It's alright, Juro. Let it be." She smiled faintly, her calmness shining against the storm. "Talking and arguing won't change anything."
Juro exhaled sharply, pushing his glasses up. "…Fine." He sat back down.
Code 11's voice echoed again. "Concerning your masters, their names will be sent to your phones. And your uniforms are ready."
"Uniforms?" the class echoed in disbelief.
Code 11 clapped her hands once. The doors opened and several men entered, carrying a large black box. They dropped it at the center and left without a word.
"Take your uniforms," Code 11 ordered.
One by one, the students walked up to the box, each pulling out their new attire.
Gasps filled the room.
The boys held black butler uniforms with crisp white gloves. The girls held maid gowns, black with a white rope tied around the waist, and a delicate white cloth shaped like a flower for the hair.
They returned to their seats, faces twisted with disgust.
Code 11's voice was cruel. "These uniforms will be what you wear when serving your masters. After all, what workplace exists without its employees dressed in proper attire?"
Torin shot to his feet. "Uniforms?! What's wrong with our academy uniforms? We're already wearing them!"
The class murmured in agreement.
Code stared down at the uniform in his hands. He's right… but still… if we're getting paid and given ratings, then this really is like a job. We're making a living for ourselves… but we're just students.
The girl beside him clenched her uniform, thinking the same thing. Both their thoughts collided.
This is… a part-time job.
"Torin," Code 11 said, her voice sharp, "you cannot wear your academy uniform to work."
Torin snapped back. "Why not?! We're in the academy, and our masters are students like us. Why can't we wear our own uniforms?"
"Because this isn't an academic schedule," Code 11's tone hardened. "This is your job. A way for you to earn money and survive here. In other words… this is your part-time job."
Torin gripped his butler uniform tightly, his body trembling. "A-a… part-time job?!"
The room erupted in whispers.
Code 11 clapped once, and the sound echoed like a whip crack. Instantly, silence fell.
"You all seem to be in complete misunderstanding," she said coldly.
The tension wrapped around their throats like a noose.
"This part-time job doesn't apply only to you. It applies to those above you as well. They, too, are slaves… to their superiors."
The class gasped.
Juro stood again, his voice sharp. "That can't be right!"
All eyes turned to him.
A blonde-haired girl sneered. "What do you mean, four-eyes?"
Juro glared at her coldly. "My name isn't four-eyes, Meira. It's Juro."
"Whatever," she scoffed.
Ivy leaned toward him, her voice soft. "Juro… what do you mean?"
Juro adjusted his glasses, his eyes gleaming. "We all know there are four ranks. The Grents, the Servitors, the Aspirants, and the highest—the Perfects. That's the pyramid structure of this academy."
His voice grew sharper. "But if every level of the pyramid has to serve their superiors after class, the whole chain collapses! A Servitor can't supervise their Grent-slave if they themselves are being worked by an Aspirant at the same time. It creates a scheduling and authority conflict."
Caden raised his hand. "But can't they just… switch times?"
"No," Juro said firmly, eyes narrowing. "This is a part-time job. Part-time jobs run on strict hours. And each master has their own personality and preferences. It would be chaos."
Code 11's lips curled faintly. "It seems we've found our class's smartest one."
Juro smirked faintly, lowering himself into his chair. His voice was nearly a whisper. Now there's no way she can escape this. We won't be slaves.
Everyone turned to Code 11, waiting.
But her expression remained thesame.
"Well… it's true that if the pyramid worked that way, it would create a conflict." Her voice dropped lower, colder. "But there is no need to worry. Because we have already solved that problem… with something we call—"
Her eyes gleamed red for a moment.
"—the Pyramid Chain of Delegation."
Juro's eyes widened. His voice cracked as he repeated, "…The Pyramid Chain of Delegation?!"
Code 11's voice sliced through the silence, calm yet sharp, the kind of voice that could crush hope with a single word.
"You Grents," she began, her tone cold, "serve under Servitors as personal workers. Your job is simple. Do their chores. Run their errands. Be their hands."
Her words echoed like shackles locking in place. The students stiffened from pressure of her words.
"As for the Servitors…" Code 11's masked gaze swept over them. "They do not serve as full slaves. The Aspirants give the orders, and the Servitors ensure those orders are carried out—by using you. They are the chain between command and execution."
A low murmur broke out, whispers spreading like sparks.
"And the Aspirants," she continued, "serve the Perfects in the same way. They rarely dirty their hands. Instead, they command Servitors and Grents to bend, to move, to work. That… is the pyramid."
Torin slammed his fist on his desk. "So basically all the work falls on us!"
"Yes." Code 11's reply was immediate, merciless.
Caden leaned forward. "But that means they get paid for work they didn't even do!"
Her head tilted slightly, the mask gleaming under the classroom lights. "And you," she said sharply, "also get paid by your masters for doing the work, don't you?"
The students froze.
"Your payments," she went on, raising her hand. The blue screen flickered alive, showing strange glowing icons. "Are your ratings. Your masters vote for you through their phones. When your rating increases, it becomes your currency. At the mall, your phone will be scanned… and that number will decide your life here."
Juro's glasses gleamed as he bit his lip. "I… I can't believe the school already thought about that…"
Code 11 turned toward him suddenly, the pressure in the room tripling. Her voice was low but heavy enough to make the floor tremble. "What's the matter, Juro? Did you really think you could escape slavery by pointing out a flaw in the pyramid system?"
The entire class gasped. Juro froze, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. His voice shook. "H-How… how did you know?"
Her mask tilted closer, a faint killing intent seeping out like a blade pressed to his throat. "I believe," she said coldly, "I have no obligation to answer that."
Code's eyes widened. He thought to himself, So Juro's cover was blown… she already saw through him from the start.
Torin, trying to shift the mood, raised his hand. "Ma'am, then what do the Perfects even do? Do they just… give orders?"
The mask turned to him. "No. The Perfects are slaves as well."
The classroom erupted into confusion.
Caden leaned forward, disbelief on his face. "What?! They're slaves too?!"
"Yes." Code 11's hand rose again, and the wall behind her lit up, screens shifting into a pyramid that extended further upward.
"There are five floors in this academy. Four are occupied by you—the Grents, the Servitors, the Aspirants, and the Perfects. But above them…" Her voice dropped, chilling the room. "…are the Primals."
The word itself felt heavy, as though the classroom dimmed at its mention.
"The Perfects serve the Primals. They govern all. They stand at the very top, holding the highest ratings in the academy."
Ding! Ding!
Every phone in the classroom buzzed at once. Screens lit up.
Code's gaze snapped to his phone. His profile updated… and at the bottom, glowing faintly in silver light, was the letter M.
Gasps erupted across the room. Some saw P. Others R.
Code 11 stepped to the board, she picked up a chalk . With a stroke of her finger, she wrote words on the board.
P. R. I. M. A. L. S
"Primals!" the class shouted in unison.
"Yes," Code 11 replied, her tone dripping with finality. "Each of you belongs to a generation—marked by the alphabet you see. The Primals are not a rank. They are the highest students. Each represents one letter. If you see 'P' in your profile… then you belong to the P generation. And you are slaves to the Primal who embodies that letter. Think of them as…" She paused, letting the silence strangle the room. "…your godfathers."
The tension was unbearable. Even Ivy, always cheerful, had lost her smile. Her voice trembled. "So… we're all slaves to the Primals."
The room began to collapse into chaos until one boy stood up, his expression was calm . "Everyone calm down!" he shouted. "We can endure this as a team! Even if we aren't in the same generation, we share the same pain. Only we understand each other's chains—so let's support one another!"
Torin blinked. "Riven… you…"
Riven turned, offering a faint smile.
But Code 11's cold voice shattered it instantly. "Support each other? Understand each other? Do not delude yourselves." She raised her hand, and the air turned heavy again. "You are enemies. You belong to different Primals. You will never be allies."
Everyone froze. The words were like poison.
Lily's face went pale. Juro's fists trembled. Ivy, panic written across her face, turned to Riven. "W-What does she mean, Riven…? You're our enemy?"
All eyes turned to him.
But Riven didn't answer. He only lowered his head, shadows covering his expression.
Code 11's voice cut in once more. "Don't bother questioning him. I will tell you."
The silence was deafening.
"You are slaves… even in your own class. Which means, naturally… one among you is the master."
A shockwave ran through the room.
Juro staggered. "T-Then… one of us… is really a master?"
The room fell silent. Everyone looked around suspiciously.
Code's eyes fell on Riven.
Then Ivy spoke softly, her voice trembling. "…Riven. You're the master… aren't you?"
The room turned cold.
Riven raised his head slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "…Yes. I am."
Everyone was shocked.
Juro shot up, slamming the desk. "You dare talk to us about unity when we're your slaves?! How dare you, Riven!"
Riven said nothing. He stood still, unable to meet their eyes.
Code 11's mask tilted toward him. "He was appointed master because he scored the highest in your class during the entrance exam. That is why he was chosen. That is why he owns you."
Meira raises her hand. "Code 11."
Ivy turns toward her. "Meira, that's rude."
Meira shrugs. "She told us to call her that, so I don't see the big deal."
Code 11 replies calmly, "It's fine. I don't care what you call me. So, what is it?"
Meira asks, "Is there a way for us to leave the Grent class? I mean, can we be promoted into a Servitor?"
"Of course," Code 11 answers. "Through your rating. Like I said before, you're all one-star students. To become Servitors, you must reach two stars. That can be done through academic performance and sports."
Torin leans forward. "What about our part-time jobs? Won't that also increase our rating?"
"That may count, but very little," Code 11 replies. "The part-time job is mainly a way for you to earn money in the academy. The ratings you get from that are essentially currencies for working, though they do hold some significance in increasing your student rating."
She adjusts her mask, then adds, "This is your first day at the academy, so I'll leave you all to prepare yourselves. You'll soon get a message with your academic schedule, along with the time for your part-time job."
Her eyes sweep across the room. "Good luck, Grents."
With that, she walks out and closes the door behind her.
The room falls into silence until Riven speaks slowly. "S-sorry I didn't tell you all sooner. I was going to, but I… I wanted us to get along and support each other as we worked toward rising to another rank and increasing our rating. Everyone… I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I truly am." He bows his head deeply.
No one says a word. Riven freezes in place, still bowing.
Code watches him, then glances at the others. Of course they're silent. He's their master, and they're his slaves. Trust isn't something that comes easily. Still… he's trying so hard to win them over. He has the qualities of a leader.
Ivy suddenly walks up to Riven. "You don't have to apologize. It wasn't your fault you were chosen as master. You earned that position because of your grades and performance during the entrance exam. If anything, we should be the ones apologizing. If we wanted the role, we should have scored higher."
Riven lifts his head, surprised. "Thanks, Ivy."
She smiles softly. "It's fine."
Turning to the rest of the class, Ivy says, "Everyone, let's give Riven a chance. He's seriously thinking about our benefit, and I stand by his idea of us working together and understanding each other."
Torin stands, folding his arms. "Well, Ivy, if you believe him, then I'll believe him too. Besides, we shouldn't take the word of a woman in a mask seriously. You all saw what she did to Ben, right? We shouldn't trust anything she says."
Caden nods. "I guess you're right."
Juro adjusts his glasses. "That's true. We can't believe everything that mysterious teacher says."
Riven's lips curve into a smile. "Thank you, everyone. Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll lead this class to the top of the pyramid ranking."
He pauses, then adds, "Oh, right—we have two new students who joined us today. Let's all introduce ourselves for their sake."
Everyone turns toward Code and the girl sitting beside him.
"I'll start first." Riven steps forward. "I'm Riven Halden. I look forward to working with you all."
A polite round of applause follows.
The girl beside Code stares at Riven and thinks to herself, It seems the whole class trusts him now. But I don't. If I want to leave the fifth floor, I can only rely on myself.
Riven gestures toward the first row. "Let's begin there."
A composed girl with jet-black hair stands first. "Good day. I'm Neela Vire. I look forward to working with you all."
Juro follows. "I'm Juro Kessai. Nice to meet you."
Then a soft-spoken girl rises. "Sena Valtier. A pleasure."
A short reply comes next. "Rika Tenebrism."
Torin stands proudly. "The name's Torin Graves."
Riven points to the next row.
Caden smirks. "Caden Myles!"
Then, a blond boy leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "What's the point of this? I may not trust the masked teacher, but there's no way I'm trusting any of you."
Caden chuckles. "Don't mind him, newbies. His name's Ashir—Ashir Vance."
Ashir shoots him a glare. "Mind your business, Caden."
"Let it go, Ashir. Your turn's passed," Caden says casually.
Another boy with sleek hair throws his legs onto the table, sighing in relief. "Finally, I can relax. My legs were already getting stiff under the desk."
Riven clears his throat. "Uh… Huegene, it's your turn."
"The name's Huegene. Nice to meet you," he says lazily.
A cheerful girl beams next. "Yua Morin. It's a pleasure!"
Then comes a cocky grin from another boy. He stands, pointing at himself. "Kei Strathmore. Let's ascend to the fourth floor together."
Riven chuckles. "Yes, we will."
The next row begins.
Lily stutters. L-Lilly Brooklyn
Meira, still busy on her phone, says casually, "Meira Solace."
Ivy smiles warmly. "I'm Ivy Draelin."
Code's eyes shift to the side—and meet the cold, sharp gaze of the black-haired girl sitting beside him.
"What are you staring at?" she snaps.
"Nothing," Code replies flatly, unflinching.
She frowns. What's with him?
Then she stands. "I'm Aria Nyre. I don't care about teamwork or understanding each other. I don't trust Riven."
Whispers spread through the room.
Riven claps his hands once, silencing them. "It's fine, Aria. I understand why you don't trust me. But since we're classmates, we'll eventually get to know each other."
Aria sits back down, muttering to herself, I don't think so.
Code glances at her. She really doesn't know how to hold back her words.
"And now, the last one," Riven says.
Code rises stiffly. "I'm Code…" He stops, thinking. What else should I say? After a pause, he blurts, "N-nice to meet you all."
The class goes silent.
"Code?" Riven asks carefully. "Is that really your name? Just Code?"
"Yes," Code answers.
Caden bursts into laughter. "What kind of name is that?"
"That's rude, Caden," Riven scolds.
Caden quiets down.
Code sits back down, turning his gaze to the window. Aria sneaks another glance at him. He lacks social skills… and even his name is strange. I doubt he's that smart.
Riven claps his hands once more. "Now that we all know each other, let's work hard to reach the fourth floor together!"
The class cheers—except for Code and Aria, who sit motionless, as if nothing in the world mattered.
Huegene isn't even paying attention, and Ashir walks out of the classroom without a word.
Code stares at the sun through the window. So many students… with so many different personalities.
He exhales. "I guess it's time. Our part-time job will start soon."