The midday sun streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows into the spacious No. 1 cafeteria of Koudo Ikusei High School.
The air was filled with the aroma of various foods, and the students' laughter and the clinking of cutlery intertwined to form a vibrant background sound.
In the central area of this hustle and bustle, at the best spot near the panoramic window, sat two eye-catching second year students.
Nagumo Miyabi leaned back in his chair in a relaxed posture, his neat golden short hair shining with an almost platinum luster in the sunlight, a few stray strands casually falling across his full forehead.
His face was handsome, his nose bridge high, and his eyes now held a hint of casual sharpness, like a lazy cheetah.
He was idly poking at the exquisite spaghetti on his plate with a fork, clearly not focused on the food.
Sitting opposite him was Asahina Natsume, her smooth brown long hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall, a striking sunflower-shaped hairpin made of golden petals and green leaves nestled in her hair, adding a touch of playfulness and vitality to her gentle demeanor.
With a hint of a helpless smile, she glanced at Nagumo Miyabi's almost untouched lunch.
"Nagumo, are you eating lunch?"
She drew out her words, tapping her fingertip lightly on the table, her sunflower hairpin swaying slightly with her movement,
"With you so distracted, the food on your plate is almost cold. Wasting food isn't the example a Vice President should set, Miyabi."
Nagumo Miyabi then withdrew his gaze from the cafeteria entrance, a playful, cynical curve appearing on his lips:
"Natsume, food is just for energy replenishment, the mission is the main course."
He picked up a napkin and elegantly wiped his mouth, a subtle hint of impatience in his movements,
"Besides, you know very well that there aren't many things that I find 'interesting' right now."
"Oh?"
Asahina Natsume raised an eyebrow, her brown long hair sliding over her shoulder,
"Other than making Horikita-senpai your target and thinking day in and day out about how to 'invite' him down from his throne?"
"That is the inevitable destination."
Nagumo Miyabi admitted frankly, his eyes sparkling with a sharp light,
"But that doesn't mean we can't find new fun on the way to the destination. Especially..."
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice a bit, with a hint of excitement at discovering new prey,
"When an interesting obstacle, or... an interesting fellow traveler, might appear on this path."
He no longer looked at Asahina Natsume's understanding expression, his gaze once again sharply directed towards the bustling crowd at the entrance. His presence here was, of course, not just for lunch.
As the "uncrowned king" who effectively controlled the entire second year, his intelligence network had long since permeated every corner of the school.
Yesterday, the small "commotion" that occurred on the first day of first year o enrollment had already been distilled into a clear report delivered to him: a new student from Class 1-A dared to directly intrude into the upperclassmen area right after the entrance ceremony, attempting to probe the core mechanism of "class points";
After being stonewalled by the upperclassmen, someone even proposed using precious personal points to buy information—this boldness and way of thinking were far beyond what an ordinary new student could possess.
Nagumo Miyabi almost immediately saw the key to it all.
Behind this, there must be someone with a clear mind, who understood how to use rules and possessed influence, driving it.
He immediately issued an instruction: allow the second year student who held the information to sell the core information about the class points operation mechanism to Class 1-A at an "absurdly low" price.
This price was so low it was almost a gift. Rather than a transaction, it was more like a bait thrown out by Nagumo Miyabi, or rather, a silent invitation to the "instigator."
"What mischief are you plotting now?"
Asahina Natsume was too familiar with that look in his eyes—it was the excitement of a chess player discovering a new piece.
"Selling important information at such a low price, that's not like you. Cultivating an opponent?"
"Just making the game a little more interesting."
Nagumo Miyabi chuckled, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, his gaze like a precise searchlight scanning the crowd of new students,
"A guy who can lead an entire class to make such a bold move on the first day of first year o enrollment... If he's just mediocre, then that bit of information can be considered a 'welcome gift' to the new students. But if..."
He paused, his tone carrying a hint of anticipation,
"If it's an interesting 'seedling,' watering it in advance to see how tall a tree it can grow, isn't that very interesting? After all, besides Horikita-senpai, this school hasn't had an opponent who has truly piqued my interest enough for a serious 'contest' in a long time."
His second year students had also provided a crucial clue: yesterday morning, shortly after the entrance ceremony, a black-haired boy with black-rimmed glasses and a calm demeanor was indeed seen wandering and observing in the upperclassmen's teaching area. His behavior showed a focus and purposefulness that was out of place for an ordinary new student.
Although the person left before the preparatory bell, that deliberately low-key yet not entirely concealable presence left an impression on the eyewitness.
Nagumo Miyabi used his authority as student council vice president to easily retrieve this new student's information—Sakamoto-kun, Class 1-A. His academic record was unremarkable, with all indicators fluctuating around the average level of Class A, without any particularly outstanding records, like a drop of water perfectly blending into the ocean.
However, Nagumo Miyabi scoffed at this "perfect average."
Records could be embellished, but the insight and boldness to drive an entire class's actions and dare to challenge unknown rules were certainly not measurable by the cold letters and numbers on a file.
"So, you're sure that new student named 'Sakamoto-kun' is the person you're looking for?"
Asahina Natsume followed his gaze, only seeing groups of ordinary First Year students in their brand-new burgundy uniforms, with excited and curious expressions.
"A hunch."
Nagumo Miyabi's gaze was like a hawk's, patiently and sharply filtering through the crowd,
"Files can lie, but actions don't. Someone who can come up with a breakthrough idea like 'buying information with points' will never be content with mediocrity. He must be here..."
Just then, an extremely subtle commotion at the cafeteria entrance caught Nagumo Miyabi's attention.
It wasn't noise, but more like an invisible aura spreading out, causing the flowing crowd to naturally part, creating a gap. A tall and slender figure appeared at the end of the gap—black-rimmed glasses, a distinctive tear mole under his left eye, and an impeccably ironed burgundy school uniform. It was Sakamoto-kun.
He paid no mind to the curious and scrutinizing gazes falling upon him, his steps steady and fluid, walking purposefully towards a relatively less crowded serving window.
However, what attracted Nagumo Miyabi's gaze was not just Sakamoto-kun's appearance, but his almost artistic posture while waiting in line.
Sakamoto-kun did not stand loosely like others, nor was he looking down at his phone.
His feet were slightly apart, his center of gravity firmly in the middle, his back as straight as a pine, like a precisely calibrated ruler inserted into the noisy queue. His gaze calmly rested on the menu board ahead, his hands naturally hanging down, but his fingertips were slightly curled inward, carrying a strange alertness and composure, as if ready to deal with any sudden situation.
In Nagumo Miyabi's eyes, this posture was certainly not that of an ordinary student. It was more like a silent declaration of absolute control over his surroundings, ingrained in his very being.
He didn't even deliberately draw attention, but that calm aura had already made several new students, who were initially a bit pushy, unconsciously restrain their movements and maintain a slight distance.
"Is it him?"
Asahina Natsume also noticed Sakamoto-kun, and Nagumo Miyabi's suddenly focused gaze.
She carefully observed the black-haired young man. Aside from his overly composed demeanor and his excessively handsome face, there seemed to be nothing particularly out of the ordinary.
Nagumo Miyabi did not answer immediately.
His gaze was fixed on Sakamoto-kun, watching him elegantly take his meal and turn to find a seat. That stillness and composure that created a world of his own in the noisy cafeteria, that aura that exuded from his every movement, as if he were naturally meant to be watched... "Do you see it, Natsume?"
Nagumo Miyabi's voice held a hint of barely concealed astonishment, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of meeting a worthy opponent,
"That's not 'blending in,' that's 'controlling.' He stands in the crowd, yet it's like he's standing center stage, almost like... a natural spotlight magnet!"
He picked up the water glass beside him, his gaze closely following Sakamoto-kun's figure, as if admiring a newly acquired, infinitely promising collectible.
"It seems the water is finally going to have some proper ripples, Sakamoto…"
Nagumo Miyabi drained the water in his cup. The fighting intent in his eyes spread out like ripples on a lake after a stone was thrown in.
"I hope you don't disappoint me."
Beneath the calm campus life, an undercurrent belonging to the top predators was quietly surging.