WELCOME TO J.S HIGH

. . .

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. . .

PROLOGUE

The Beginning

“GIVE ME A REASON  why I shouldn’t beat the crap out of you?” the boy taunted.

A smaller student stood in front of him, fingers trembling around his soda as he stared at the stain on the boy’s shirt.

It was an accident. The other boy wasn’t looking when he bumped into him, but the moment it spilled, everyone in the courtyard stared. Now they were surrounding them, expecting something. Maybe they were waiting for a confrontation. A fight. The majority wanted a beating.

“For heaven’s sake, just beat him up already,” one of the spectators suggested.

Beads of sweat trailed down his chin. He looked around, and everyone was grinning in excitement. There was no way he could escape. In a school where eighty percent were wolves, he was the remaining twenty percent. He was the sheep.

Sheep here were mocked.

Beaten.

Eaten alive.

“P-please forgive me,” he stuttered, and everyone else snickered.

The circle got smaller, and the boy felt as if the air was getting taken away from him. His chest tightened, and the laughter got louder. This was the end. The world was going to eat him whole before he could utter anything else.

“Serves you right.”

Everything was in slow motion. The boy with the soda stain lifted his hand. He stretched out his arm, ready to throw a punch. The other closed his eyes to await the impact, but when he opened them again, there was nothing.

The crowd stepped away. There was another student now, grabbing the collar of the boy who was about to punch him.

“Pathetic,” he said, his voice calm yet commanding. “If you think watching an unfair fight like this is entertaining, then you might as well watch each other. Because there is nothing more entertaining than watching a bunch of sheep act like wolves.”

No one dared answer back. They didn’t make a sound, either. They knew who that person was, and they especially knew who his family was. Talking back now would be suicide.

“He already apologized,” he continued with a serious expression. He then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and tossed it toward the guy with the soda stain on his shirt. “Use your useless hands to clean yourself up,” he finished.

The boy gritted his teeth and refused the handkerchief. He glared at the smaller student but said nothing else. This was a battle he wasn’t going to win, even if he tried.

“Now leave. All of you,” the student commanded, and the crowd scattered like ants. The spectacle was over before it had gotten worse, and there was no one else to thank but him.

“Thank you,” the frightened boy said as he looked back at his savior.

The unnamed boy placed his hands inside his pockets and studied him, checking if he had any serious injuries. When he didn’t see any scratches on him, he didn’t say a word and started walking away.

“T-Thank you, President!” he shouted, eyes watery.

Without looking back, the president gave his final piece of advice. “Stand up for yourself next time,” he said. “Because when sheep get eaten…it’s never the wolves’ fault.” Then he disappeared as if nothing had happened.

Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire , the 16-year-old student council president of Westberg Academy, was a freshman who was feared by his schoolmates because of his family name, which was a reason he despised greatly.

“You’re nothing without that surname of yours.”

“The only impressive thing about you is that you’re a Sinclaire.”

Those words were a broken record. Max had heard them a hundred times, and he had grown tired, both from the baseless claims and the surname he had no choice but to carry.

Being the heir to the most powerful family in the world was a burden that not everyone could carry. Privilege was a curse more than a blessing. But no one would believe him because Max carried it better than anyone. Their jealousy always overpowered sympathy.

“Good afternoon, President Sinclaire,” a student greeted him, but Max walked past and ignored him. He took a long, deep breath as he walked down the hallway of the freshman building of their school.

The hallway, which one could cross in less than a minute, felt longer because of how the students stared and whispered at each other as he passed. The talk about what had happened in the courtyard must have already reached their ears, feeding their never-ending craving for drama and entertainment.

When Max reached the outside of the building, he saw a familiar man standing in front of a parked car. “Good afternoon, Master Leigh,” greeted the man wearing a butler uniform as he opened the car door for him.

Max didn’t respond to the greeting and walked toward the car without saying a word. But as Max was about to step inside, the man who was holding the door open for him spoke. “We’ll be heading to a dinner meeting today, Master.”

Max stopped in an instant. He was silent for a second before pulling himself away from the car and walking off with no hesitation. “Tell that old man that I am not interested in eating, speaking, or even seeing him today, so you may head to that dinner meeting on your own. I’ll go home myself,” Max stubbornly declared.

The butler had expected the reaction, so he chased after Max and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Master, please wait,” he begged, worried he’d get in trouble if he left without him.

“Let go of me.”

“Listen to me first.”

Max pulled his arm away aggressively and glared at the man who dared to touch him like that. “Fine, Étienne, speak. But if I do not like what comes out of that mouth of yours, then you can kiss your job goodbye,” he threatened, but the man named Étienne didn’t even show an ounce of worry. He was confident that he’d keep his job after this conversation was over.

“It wasn’t your father who requested the dinner meeting. It was your uncle, Janus Sinclaire,” Étienne revealed, and the surprise on Max’s face secured his victory.

“Janus?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s a name that I have not heard in such a long time,” Max said as excitement started to appear in the blank expression that had been plastered on his face since that morning.

“You should have told me sooner.” Max slammed his bag at Étienne’s chest, and Étienne was lucky enough to catch it before it could fall. “If it’s him, then there’s no reason to decline. Hurry now, let’s not keep him waiting,” he said as he entered the car without force.

Étienne stared at his master in disbelief as he made his way back to the car, pretending like he hadn’t been a wrong statement away from being jobless.

…

“Sir Janus is already inside. Please follow me,” a receptionist informed Max and Étienne as they entered the restaurant that the uncle had chosen himself.

It was exclusive and high-end, definitely in line with Janus’s taste.

The two followed the receptionist to a private room. There, they met the man whom Max had not seen for almost eight years.

“I knew you’d come,” the man said with a bright smile when he saw Max enter the room. “It’s been unimaginably long. How have you been, my dear nephew?” He walked toward Max and opened his arms wide, inviting him for a hug.

Max didn’t ignore the invitation and hugged his uncle back. “It’s nice to see you again, Uncle,” he said honestly.

Janus Sinclaire was a man known to be charming and alluring. He was his nieces’ and nephews’ favorite. His relatives hid their wives. Neighbors purposely opened their windows so he’d catch glimpses. He was desirable yet unreachable—unwed, noncommittal, and completely dangerous.

Those very traits were all Janus Sinclaire needed to create the most prestigious and renowned institute in the world: J.S. High, a school built for the most powerful and influential heirs.

“I forgot how…strange…your tastes were,” Max commented, pointing at the red velvet suit his uncle was wearing with complete confidence.

Janus grinned and corrected him before sitting back down. “Not strange, just unique.”

Max didn’t argue and took a seat as well, while Étienne stood beside the door in silence.

“You’re a young man now. Time passed so quickly that I can barely remember what you looked like,” Janus shared.

“I was seven when I accompanied my father to meet you. You, on the other hand, haven’t changed a bit,” Max replied.

Janus chuckled as he lifted his glass of red wine from the table. He took a sip and asked Max how he had been. Max gave him a generic reply—“I’ve been good”—then threw in a few of his middle school achievements so the conversation wouldn’t shift to his love life, a topic that uncles and aunts seemed to be obsessed with.

While Janus was impressed by his young nephew’s accomplishments, the food arrived, and the two began eating. It didn’t take long for the table to be cleared, and the reason Janus had called for Max was finally brought up.

“You haven’t shown yourself to me for years, which made me realize that what you’re about to say must be important enough for you to request a meeting with me personally,” Max said.

Janus dabbed his mouth with a napkin before looking back at his curious nephew. “I wanted to negotiate with you.”

Negotiate. It only took that one word for Max to get hooked.

Janus sat taller, his hands resting on top of the table, fingers intertwined. “Have you heard of J.S. High?”

“J.S. High? Of course I have. Not only is it a prestigious school known worldwide, but it’s also where Marcus studies. However, the general public knows very little about it. It’s a school that only the exceptional are allowed to attend,” Max replied.

Janus pursed his lips, contemplating whether or not he should share more. After a brief internal debate, he brushed the thought away and shrugged. “Well, I think that’s good enough.”

Max raised an eyebrow. It was obvious this negotiation was going to be interesting.

Janus took a folded letter out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. As the president of J.S. High, I am personally inviting you to enroll in my school. Students can only get in through an invitation, so you should know that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you,” he said, pushing the letter closer to his nephew.

Max didn’t look surprised. He had already expected this outcome the moment Janus mentioned J.S. High, but he had been hoping he was wrong.

“Looks like this is where our negotiation ends,” Max said. He was about to stand, but Janus leaned closer and grabbed his arm before he could. Max looked down at his uncle’s hand, then back at his face, annoyance growing at the fact that he had already been grabbed by two people that day.

“Don’t be rude now, my nephew. I did not force you to come here, which means you agreed to listen to what I have to say. Now sit down and listen till the end,” Janus insisted, his grip tightening.

Max pulled his arm away and sat back down in defeat. In his mind, he thought, You really are a Sinclaire. No other man would dare speak to an heir as powerful as him, except one who shared his blood.

“You do know I’ve been purposely avoiding anything related to your school,” Max said, unsure if Janus was aware.

The president chuckled, his reaction saying otherwise. “It’s because of your brother Marcus. I know.”

“Then you know that the general public doesn’t know we’re siblings. I don’t want people to find out. Marcus doesn’t deserve the same crap I’ve been getting from them,” Max explained.

Janus nodded in understanding. “That’s why you should just enroll,” he said with a smile.

Max’s annoyance deepened. He tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t raise his voice at his uncle after all these years. “Did you not hear what I just said? Marcus—”

“—asked me to enroll you,” Janus finished for him.

Max froze. “Did you just—”

“It’s the truth.”

Max slumped back in his seat. He couldn’t say anything, but all he could think was that his brother was, without a doubt, a complete idiot.

“Listen, Max. J.S. High houses the best male students—not just in the country, but in the entire world. What others don’t know is that when you put all these students together, trouble will no doubt arise. Everyone wants to be on top, and that’s where everything starts falling apart,” Janus explained.

“And what does that have to do with the fact that my brother wants me to enroll in the same school as him?” Max asked, massaging his temple.

Instead of answering, Janus tapped his finger on the letter. “What happens in the castle, stays in the castle,” he recited.

Max narrowed his eyes and picked up the letter. “What’s in here?”

Janus said nothing, hoping the contents would be enough.

Max unfolded it, expecting a long explanation of why he should enroll. But when he did, only a few words were written:

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/f69fc9e03b70c727c8788ec9fb8bda08a17aa302/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f36387763647537303871394a77413d3d2d313030333532353239352e313839386363343061613364356463393232313636353735323337342e706e67)               

Max placed the letter back on the table and crossed his arms. His silence demanded an explanation.

“Crème de la Crème. That’s the group that holds the top twelve most powerful heirs in the world. And I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with them. Isn’t that right, Max?”

Max couldn’t stop staring at the words. Crème de la Crème , an idiom meaning “the best of the best”, was a title given to heirs by the richest and most influential men in the world. No one knew where it originated, but heirs were chosen young and branded with a hot iron bearing the fleur-de-lis.

No one had ever completed a full list of twelve, but those chosen were predicted to succeed in life, hence their place in such a prestigious group.

“Why are you telling me this?” Max asked, eyes still fixed on the paper.

“Four of those heirs are in my school,” Janus revealed.

Max’s heart nearly dropped. He snapped his head up, wide-eyed. “What did you just say?”

“I’m not lying. There’s no point if I do. But the reason I’m telling you this is that I want you, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, to be the fifth.”

Max shook his head, confused. “I don’t understand. Why would Marcus want me to enroll because of that reason?”

Janus hesitated, debating with himself again. But he knew he had to say something to secure this negotiation.

“One of the heirs in that prestigious group…is ruling my school.”

The spark of interest in Max’s eyes reignited.

“I cannot give you the details now, but believe me when I say your brother and I are in desperate need of assistance,” Janus said, grabbing Max’s hand without hesitation.

Max stared at him and pulled his hand away. “You said this was a negotiation, remember? Then what’s in it for me? What benefits will I get if I agree?”

This time, Janus realized just how much of a Sinclaire Max truly was. He was business-oriented through and through.

“You hate how people treat you, am I correct?” Janus asked.

The spark of interest inside Max grew into a wildfire.

“Enroll in my school,” Janus promised, standing tall once more, “and everything about you, and how people treat you, will entirely change.”

Max looked down at the paper. Then he looked back at his uncle, grinned, and extended his hand.

“Fine. Congratulations, Sir Janus. You just successfully persuaded the most powerful heir in the world.”

|END|

DISCLAIMER

…

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real companies or institutions is purely coincidental.

This story may also contain strong language, violence, and themes that may not be suitable for very young readers. Reader discretion is advised.

And for readers who have already followed previous versions of this story, please be mindful of new readers. Kindly avoid posting spoilers in the comments, especially regarding future events, plot twists, or character developments.

Let’s allow everyone to experience the story as it unfolds.

Thank you for reading and supporting Kings on the Horizon .

I hope you enjoy your stay.

AUTHOR N

VOLUME I

“I am a generous king! A patient king! A merciful king! And you, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, aren’t even allowed to step foot in my throne room…”

01 | Welcome To the Castle

♟

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THOSE WERE THE WORDS  written on the front page of every newspaper in the city. And the same newspaper was sitting on top of a desk inside the bedroom of the heir who was mentioned in it.

“Who’s the idiot who thought it was a great idea to place this garbage on top of my desk?” Max asked, grabbing the paper and throwing it towards the possible suspect, Étienne.

Étienne , the twenty-eight-year-old butler with perfect reaction time, caught the newspaper before it could touch the ground. “I just thought you’d be interested in knowing what the public thinks about this,” he told his master, who was standing in front of a full-body mirror while fixing his necktie.

Max laughed upon hearing Étienne’s reason and looked back at him through his reflection in the mirror. “As my butler, you should be trying to hide what the public thinks of me, and not directly show it to me, you nincompoop,” Max said before going back to fixing his necktie.

Étienne didn’t answer and just absorbed the fact that his now seventeen-year-old master had just called him an idiot and a nincompoop in two different sentences.

In silence, Max finished fixing his tie. As he pulled it down, he gestured at his butler to come closer. 

Étienne didn’t even have to be told what to do. He took out the white peacoat hanging inside the cabinet and opened it up behind Max, so Max could slide his arms into the sleeves. While Max was buttoning up the coat, Étienne took the black leather belt and buckled it for him. The belt was long enough to go around his waist and over his left shoulder. He then finished it off by handing Max the white peaked cap.

Max took the cap. He fixed his perfectly waxed hair first before putting the cap over it. Once the uniform was complete, Max took a step back and stared at himself from his peaked cap down to his white boots, checking if something was misplaced.

“Did my uncle enroll me in a high school, or did he secretly enroll me in a military academy?” Max asked his butler, even though he wasn’t expecting him to answer. He was just concerned over the fact that the uniform looked like a general’s uniform instead of a regular school uniform.

“You look excellent in it, Master Leigh,” Étienne complimented.

“I’ve seen this uniform before, but I never paid much attention. It’s quite popular, though. The public seems to go mad whenever they see someone wearing it.”

“Then you wearing it makes it ten times more eye-catching,” his butler claimed, and Max could only shrug his shoulders.

Étienne took his master’s leather briefcase and followed behind him as Max stepped out of his room. While the two walked down the hallway, Max couldn’t help but ask, “Tell me, Étienne. Why the hell am I heading to school on a Sunday?”

“Today is the freshmen orientation, Master,” Étienne answered.

Max stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, making Étienne stop walking behind him as well. Without looking back, Max continued, “What year am I?”

“You’re a sophomore student.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

Étienne couldn’t help but gulp as he waited for Max to say something further.

“That’s right, I’m a second-year student. Now, give me a better answer.”

Without waiting for Étienne to speak, Max started walking again. Étienne followed behind him once more while answering his master’s initial question. “As you are a transfer student, Sir Janus requested that you attend the orientation for your academic welfare.”

“And you agreed to this?” Max asked back. But before Étienne could give him another answer, a man appeared in front of them and answered for him, “He didn’t. But I did.”

Max made a sudden halt to avoid crashing into the man in front of him. When he finished studying the face, Max rolled his eyes in annoyance and walked past him.

The man laughed at the reaction and jogged towards Max so he could walk beside him. “As expected, you look good in the uniform,” he commented, and Max glanced at him, realizing that he was wearing the same uniform as well, but without the cap. And of course, the obvious observation…it was all-black instead of all-white. Max didn’t try to ask why the colors were different. He didn’t want to start conversing with him now.

 “I’m so excited. We’re going to school together for the first time, little brother,” the man said as they walked down the stairs.

Max pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t say a word. But his frustration took over as he said, “Why the hell are you going to school with me, Marcus? Last time I checked, you’re a senior, and seniors don’t need to attend the freshman orientation.”

The man named Marcus smiled to the point where his eyes almost closed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I want to be with my cute little brother!” Marcus said with an excited tone.

Max looked extra annoyed, while Étienne couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Please stop me from pushing this idiot down the stairs,” Max said, and Étienne, as a dutiful butler, pulled Marcus away from his master with no second thought.

Marcus Thompson , Max’s ever-cheerful and happy-go-lucky brother, and the reason why Max even enrolled in J.S. High in the first place, was a senior student who was adored by everyone who encountered him because of his bright personality. But the same personality was the reason why Max ended up having murderous tendencies.

“Will I be able to say something that will miraculously make you not want to come?” Max asked as he, his brother, and the butler arrived in front of their family car.

Marcus opened the car door for Max and answered, “You’re an idiot if you still believe in miracles.”

Max sighed and headed inside in defeat.

…

Étienne glanced at the rearview mirror, only to see Marcus staring at Max like he was a four-month-old baby who was sometimes cranky but still adorable.

“Stare at me a little longer and I’ll poke your eyes with my bare fingers,” Max warned without removing his eyes from the book he was reading, entitled I Am A Cat by Natsume Sōseki.

Marcus pouted and finally sat properly. “Can you blame me? We never went to the same school before. And I barely see you at home. I’m just glad that I get to bond with you like this in my senior year.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to sit with me during lunch break, too,” Max said while imagining it. Just thinking about it made his body shiver. The last thing he wanted to do in a school filled with elites was eat lunch with his big brother. And the worst part was, no one knew that they were siblings, so what would the others think if they saw him and Marcus sticking together like glue?

“I guess that’s something that I can’t do,” Marcus answered, which surprised but relieved Max at the same time. He didn’t ask any further and continued reading his book. But as he was about to turn to the next page, the car stopped. 

Max looked out of the window to see what it was about, and to his surprise, they were welcomed by a huge gate with the letters J & S written in front of it.

“Since classes officially start tomorrow, the gates are still closed,” Marcus explained, even though no one had really asked him about it.

Étienne pulled the tinted window down to greet the guard who was waiting outside. He was about to give his identification card when the guard suddenly spotted Marcus sitting in the back. “Oh, pardon me, Sir Thompson. I didn’t know you had a new driver,” the guard said as he tilted his cap a little as a way of greeting him.

“Just register the plate number. Next time, the gates should automatically open when we arrive,” Marcus said with a serious tone. His personality became so different that both Étienne and Max were at a loss for words. They didn’t know Marcus had a side like this.

Max furrowed his brows and studied the situation. His brother was a senior, so maybe the guards already recognized him. But how the guard looked and spoke to him was way too formal, so Max instantly doubted his own theory.

“Sorry for wasting your time. Welcome back to J.S. High, Sir Thompson,” the guard said right after typing down the car’s plate number on his tablet.

Right on cue, the large gate opened, revealing the castle that was hidden behind the enormous walls.

The school was near the mountains, which you could imagine would look amazing in winter. For security reasons, Janus chose a location distant from the people in the city. The only unsettling thing about it was that it was the only structure standing in that area.

The campus was surrounded by three gates and huge walls, but you could still see the massive structure peeking over them. Inside, you would drive past an allée where dozens of trees were perfectly aligned on the side of the road, leading to a large fountain just in front of the main building called The Keep . The entire school also had a perfect design since it chose medieval architecture, which made everything look like an 18th-century castle.

It was the perfect school for heirs.

“I’ve seen it in pictures, but this place really is breathtaking,” Max commented as he gazed at the large structure outside the car window.

Cars were lined up to drop off students at the Keep. And even though there were only freshmen students today, it still looked crowded since everyone was piled up just outside.

“Why aren’t they opening the doors yet? Are they going to let all those heirs wait outside like that?” Max asked as he looked at Marcus, but Marcus didn’t answer. Instead, he took out a pair of leather gloves and put them on. And like earlier, he wore a serious expression on his face. 

“Étienne, drop me off here while you drop Max at the West Tower. The students can’t see him yet,” Marcus explained.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Max asked, but Marcus ignored him again.

When it was their turn to park their car in front of the main entrance, Marcus didn’t wait for Max and headed out of the car by himself. 

The students in white uniforms all stopped talking the moment they caught a glimpse of Marcus. Max thought that maybe they were just intrigued because he had a different uniform on, but the way they looked at him was different. It was the same as how the guard had looked at Marcus earlier. It was almost like they were looking at him with complete respect.

“Is Marcus famous here?” Max asked as he watched his brother approach the crowd. His black uniform stood out from the rest of the students who were in white, but other than the uniform, his entire presence grabbed everyone’s attention.

“I think your brother is trying to divert the crowd’s attention,” Étienne explained as he looked at Max through the rearview mirror. Max didn’t say anything and just continued to stare at his brother in silence. As the crowd turned their backs on the car to watch Marcus, Étienne drove to where he would be dropping his young master off, as Marcus instructed.

“What’s with Marcus? And why can’t the students see me yet? It’s not like I’m the president of the country,” Max said with an annoyed expression. School hadn’t even officially started, and he was already being treated differently.

Étienne stepped out of the car and held the door open for Max. Max brushed the thought away and went out. He just wanted this to be over so he could attend to matters that were a lot more important than an orientation.

“I’ll message you when the orientation has been concluded,” Max told his butler. Étienne handed Max’s bag over to him and bowed his head. “Enjoy your day, Master.”

Max didn’t say anything as he made his way inside. But when he got to the entrance, he spotted a charming student standing just right in front of the door, almost like he was waiting for him. 

The student was wearing the same uniform as Max, but there was a slight difference. He had two brooches on his collar. One was a silver ionic column, while the other was a golden Roman numeral one (I).

Max was about to excuse himself when the student slightly bowed his head in front of him and suddenly said, “Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. Welcome to J.S. High.”

The man reached out his hand for a handshake, but Max just stared at it, forcing him to put it back down. Thankfully, he didn’t look offended by Max’s rude reaction. “I am Ian Rothman , the president of the Supreme Student Council called Elites. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Ian greeted with a smile that showed his perfectly white teeth.

Max stared at Ian from head to toe like he was assessing him. Anyone would have felt uncomfortable if someone looked at them intently like that, but Ian didn’t mind. He stood still and waited for Max to finish staring. And when their eyes met, Ian smiled at him again and asked, “Do I not look like a president to you?”

Max was startled by the question. He hadn’t really meant to stare at him like that. He just had this habit of observing things he wasn’t familiar with, a habit he’d already been scolded for in the past.

He wasn’t staring at Ian because he doubted his president title either. In fact, he looked exactly like one. The way he stood, spoke, and even gazed at Max was no doubt leader-like. There was no reason to doubt him at all.

“My apologies,” Max said, and this time, it was Ian’s turn to be surprised. He never expected an apology from someone like Max. He laughed at himself for judging him too quickly.

Ian gestured his hand towards the entrance. “It’s alright. Now, please follow me. I’ll bring you to the auditorium before the students come in,” Ian told him, and Max was once again confused about why he had to hide from the other students. If he knew he wasn’t allowed to be seen, then there was no point in wearing the uniform.

“Don’t tell me they haven’t opened the main door yet because of me,” Max guessed as the president guided him on the way to the auditorium.

“Well, you are the student who shares the same name with the school,” Ian explained, but both of them knew that was an invalid explanation. There was definitely a deeper reason that he or Marcus wasn’t revealing to him yet.

The two didn’t talk to each other anymore after the short exchange. Max wanted to ask questions, but he knew that most of them would probably be answered during the orientation anyway.

 “Here we are.”

Ian and Max arrived at the balcony, or specifically, the dress circle of the auditorium. Students were starting to fill in the stalls below them, but they hadn’t noticed Max at all.

“You’ll be sitting here. The orientation will be three hours long, so if you wish to take a break, the restroom is outside in the left hall. Someone will also bring you tea and some biscuits later,” Ian explained, and Max nodded as a sign that he understood, and at the same time, as a sign of thanks.

Ian smiled at him again. “Well, on behalf of the vice president, let me once again welcome you to J.S. High.”

“ Behalf of the vice president? “ Max furrowed his brows in confusion after hearing the statement, but before he could even ask about it, the president had already taken his leave.

Max sighed and took a seat. 

While the freshmen students chatted with each other, Max couldn’t help but think about the president, who had quite an unforgettable character. He hadn’t met someone so calm yet so empowering as him before. It made perfect sense why he led the students at an institute like J.S. High.

Max had been the president of his old school as well, but he was only given that title because of his family name. Ian Rothman, on the other hand, looked like he deserved that title, even if his family name had influenced it.

Was he the man that his uncle Janus was referring to? Was he one of the members of Crème de la Crème who were ruling this school?

“By the way, where on earth is my brother?”

“Good morning, freshmen students!” an MC unexpectedly greeted them, causing the students to settle down.

A tall man wearing a navy-blue suit walked into the middle of the stage and waved his hand at the crowd, who stared back at him with a blank expression. It was obvious they weren’t charmed by him at all, but the dead reaction of the audience didn’t seem to faze him as he continued, “I know you’re all excited to begin the orientation. But before that, let us first welcome J.S. High’s most outstanding students, the Elites!”

Silence.

The crowd didn’t cheer for an obvious reason: they didn’t know what he was talking about. 

Max, on the other hand, had an idea. 

If he could remember correctly, Elites was what the student council was called here. So unlike the 1st-years, Max waited for a bunch of students like Ian to arrive. Nothing happened for a few seconds, causing the students to start talking with each other again. But when a familiar face came out on stage, the chatter started dying down.

One by one, well-known heirs appeared in front of them.

First came the Griffiths twins, Justin and Dustin —heirs to one of the world’s largest airlines. Then Richard Young , the so‑called Chinese Super Elite, whose family ranked among the oldest billionaire dynasties in the country. And finally, Ian Rothman.

Max hadn’t recognized him at first. But when someone in the crowd whispered his name, the pieces fell into place. Ian was the grandson of the chairman of the Rothman Medical Group.

 The students couldn’t believe that such powerful heirs were standing right in front of them. They hadn’t expected it at all.

“Uncle said there are four students in J.S. High who are part of Crème de la Crème. Are they the students that he mentioned?” Max mumbled to himself as he stared at them one by one.

The four introduced themselves to the crowd. 

Justin Griffiths was the school’s representative, while his twin brother Dustin was the council’s treasurer. The two were the only junior students in the group. 

There was Richard Young, who was the secretary. The vice president was said to be out of town, so they skipped his introduction and left his identity unknown. Finally, there was Ian Rothman, the president of the student council. Others looked at the students with awe, while others looked at them with mocking smiles, probably because they knew their family was more powerful in society compared to the students who were standing in front of them.

Max hadn’t known who Ian Rothman was at first, but now that he did, his opinion of him still didn’t change. Ian was a force to be reckoned with. He hadn’t seen him in action yet, but Max’s short encounter with him was enough evidence to know that he should be respected in this school.

The crowd started murmuring at each other again as the MC handed the microphone to Ian. Ian smiled and took a step forward. The crowd still hadn’t settled down yet, but that didn’t stop him from starting his speech.

“Looks like we have a new batch of fucking pests in our castle.”

The freshmen students stopped talking in an instant, while some gasped upon hearing the insult. Max couldn’t help but show his surprise as well after hearing what the president had to say. For a second, he thought he had heard him wrong.

Ian didn’t even remove the smile from his face after saying such offensive words to a bunch of heirs. But he wasn’t fazed by their reaction at all as he continued, “To begin this orientation, let me give you guys an important lesson.”

All the students’ attention was now on Ian. There was just something about him that made everyone stop what they were doing so they could listen to him. They felt as if, if they tried to do anything that would displease him, they might be called out for it, and that thought terrified them.

“In J.S. High, the moment you set foot inside its grounds, everything that you are outside these walls is stripped away from you. You are nothing but white uniforms in a castle of kings. Ranks are important, rules govern us, and superiority keeps our system moving. Know your place, and you will survive in this school,” Ian said with diction and power that made some students swallow the lump in their throats.

“Now, how you will be treated is all up to you. You will earn the respect and fear of everyone around you through your own efforts. Nothing you do outside will matter here,” Ian continued.

As Max listened to the student council president, the fire burning inside of him grew bigger and bigger. His heart started beating fast as cold sweat raced down his forehead. He gripped the handrest of his seat. The excitement was almost unbearable to him.

“One last thing, freshmen…” Ian took a step back. He looked at the other student council members and nodded his head, giving them a signal. In unison, the Elites confidently said, “What happens in the castle—”

Max’s eyes widened in realization as he remembered the exact same words coming out of his uncle’s mouth. Because of complete excitement, Max jumped out of his seat and continued the phrase with them.

“Stays in the castle.”

No one else saw or heard him say it, but Ian glanced toward him and smirked in satisfaction. “Welcome to J.S. High, new students. We do hope you enjoy your stay.”

|END|

NOTES : 

1. Names in BOLD are names/characters that are introduced for the first time.

2. To rereaders: Please, NO SPOILERS for the sake of new readers. If I see them, they will automatically be deleted.

02 | The Unexpected 1st Day

♟

MONDAY HAD FINALLY ARRIVED , and other than being the worst day of the week, it was also the most-awaited day for a lot of J.S. High students. 

Like yesterday, Max was sitting inside their car, memorizing the map of his new campus, while Marcus sat beside him in silence because he had been scolded by his little brother for being way too active on a Monday.

“Why aren’t the students allowed at places like the stadium, greenhouse, and rooftop? And even at the Hall of Janus? What’s in there anyway, other than the fact our uncle shamelessly used his own name to name it?” Max asked as he stared at the map he had downloaded on his tablet. During yesterday’s orientation, he had found out that that specific area was off-limits, but any other building wasn’t. They never explained why, and Max’s curiosity had skyrocketed because of it.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/619d588ca60fc41eaf3b8ef85f36eab9ac07222b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f503345794e76366b6e6a324662413d3d2d313030333533333431312e313839396437643262313838636363363837373432323636313635312e706e67)               

“You’ll find out eventually,” Marcus muttered with a cautious tone.

Marcus continued to glance at Max like Max had dirt on his face, and he was just way too polite to point it out. Max wanted to ignore his brother, but after a couple more glances, the young heir had enough. With no other choice, Max put his tablet down and finally said, “If you have something to say, you can say it now.”

Marcus flinched after being called out. He then scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, I don’t know where to start.”

“Then stop looking at me like a kid who’s expecting to be scolded,” Max told him, looking back at his tablet again.

Marcus opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to. He sighed and looked out of the window instead. Without looking back at his brother, he assured him, “Max, whatever happens, I just want you to know that I have my reasons for doing this.”

Max looked at his brother and cocked his head in complete confusion, but he didn’t ask about it further. He knew Marcus wasn’t going to answer him anyway. Instead, he remembered his brother’s sudden disappearance during the orientation and decided to bring that up instead. 

“By the way, where were you yesterday? You just completely vanished.”

Marcus looked at Max and laughed upon remembering what had happened. “President Ian got mad and sent me home.”

“The student council president? Does he even have the right to do that?” Max asked, but before his brother could come up with an answer, Étienne looked back at them through the rearview mirror and interrupted, “Should I drop Master Leigh here?”

Marcus and Max looked out of their window and realized they were already parked in front of the Keep. Compared to yesterday, it was now packed with thrice the number of students.

“Yeah, drop him off here. Then drive back to the tower near gate 3. I’ll enter through there,” Marcus instructed, so Étienne stepped out of the car and walked to the side where Max was sitting so he could hold the door open for him.

“Please don’t make any trouble,” Marcus told Max before he headed out. It might have sounded like a light joke between two siblings, but Max could tell that the advice had a heavier meaning.

“Don’t mock me,” Max replied, finally taking a step out of their car to officially start his first day of school. 

His appearance instantly caused a ripple.

At first, some stole glances, curious to see who the newcomer was. Others walked past, completely ignoring him. But when Max fixed his posture and sharpened his gaze, the attention shifted. One by one, they started to recognize who he was. Like moths to a flame, it didn’t take long for everyone’s eyes to be on him.

“No way, that’s Maximilian Sinclaire.”

“He’s really here.”

“It’s rumored that he’s a member of Crème de la Crème.”

“Well, if it’s him, then it must be true. Both his parents are super elites, especially his mother’s side.”

“He’s crazy for enrolling here.”

The students started talking about him like he wasn’t there at all. Of course, it was bothersome, but it was a scene Max was already used to, so it didn’t annoy him as much as before. All he could do now was pretend like he wasn’t hearing a thing.

“And I thought what I am outside wouldn’t matter here,” Max mumbled to himself as he took his bag from Étienne’s hand.

“Enjoy your first day, Master Leigh,” Étienne said with a short bow before heading back to the car to drive Marcus to the other building.

Max took a deep breath and looked back at the students, immediately making them look away from him. He closed his eyes to try to relax. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself on the first day, so everything had to be calculated perfectly. But as soon as Max placed his right foot on the first step that led to the Keep, a bunch of students suddenly ran past him, pushing Max out of the way.

The heir stumbled backward and fell to the ground, accidentally dropping his bag while his peaked cap got knocked off his head.

Students who witnessed what happened chuckled at him and didn’t even try to help him out. Max cursed under his breath and stood up on his own. He brushed off the dirt on his white uniform and picked up his bag from the ground. 

He was about to grab his cap too when a yellow McLaren sports car suddenly rushed towards him and drove over it. If Max hadn’t moved away quickly enough, he could have been hit.

“ W-What the actual fuck? “

Max’s eyes widened from shock as the car made a sudden stop just inches away from him. His heart was beating fast. He thought he was going to die right there. He wanted to be calm and collected, but his anger took over him, so without thinking, he headed to the passenger’s window and aggressively banged his fist on the glass.

“Didn’t you see that I was about to grab my cap? You almost fucking hit me, you asshole!” Max shouted in an obviously angry tone.

The students who were in the area wanted to know what the ruckus was about. But when they identified the car, they pretended like they didn’t see anything and immediately walked away. No one dared to approach them at all. They knew who the owner of that car was, and they knew the smartest thing to do was turn a blind eye.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Max continued to shout.

The window pulled down, and Max directly looked at the man sitting in the driver’s seat. To his surprise, the driver was a student who was wearing the same uniform as his brother. He was wearing jet black shades, and when he took them off, Max couldn’t help but take a step back. Something about him felt ominous.

“Get your filthy hands off my window,” the student snapped, shocking Max even more. He wanted to grab a rock and throw it at the window of the car, but he knew nothing good would come out of it if he started acting like a wild man now.

“My cap is underneath your tire. Move,” Max said, but in a calmer voice this time.

The student raised his right eyebrow and stared down at Max. “You’ve got the guts to command me like that, white uniform.”

“W-White…”

Max was left speechless, and it was mostly because the guy had called him a white uniform as a form of insult. 

He wanted to argue, but before he could even do or say anything about it, the student with the cocky attitude drove away as if nothing had happened. Max stood frozen in place. He had never experienced something so frustrating in his life, except for the time Marcus brought him to an amusement park that he rented for his 15th birthday.

“Did that just happen?” Max asked himself as he picked up his white peaked cap that now had a tire print on it. He took out his handkerchief and tried to wipe the dirt off, but it only caused it to smudge more. Max gave up without even trying further and decided to just shove his dirty cap and handkerchief inside his bag in defeat.

Max reminded himself that this was only his first day. There couldn’t be anything more terrifying than what had just happened to him. 

But of course, he was wrong about that because when he finally arrived at the Keep, he was welcomed by dozens of loud students, all pushing and pulling each other like animals as they tried to catch a glimpse of the class lists that could be found on four large screens.

Max’s mouth opened wide as he watched the chaos in front of him. For a second, he almost forgot this was a school filled with heirs.

“ Good morning, everyone, and welcome back to J.S. High !“ A familiar voice greeted through the speakers that surrounded the campus. Without anyone to point it out, Max recognized that it was President Ian.

The students stopped moving so they could cheer,  startling Max with how loud it was.

“ Our house assembly will begin shortly. May we request that all students proceed to their respective rooms for the time being? Thank you ,“ President Ian announced, and the students became even more chaotic.

Heirs tried to get through the crowd of students so they could reach the screens, while Max took a step back instead because of what had already happened to him earlier. He didn’t want to get pushed to the ground again, so Max decided to just wait it out. Those students were going to find their names on the list and leave eventually. It was better to be late now than go through all the trouble of falling and getting stepped on.

“…need any help?” a voice suddenly asked while Max was waiting.

Max turned his head to the right to see a model-like Asian man with the same black uniform as his brother and the student who had driven the yellow McLaren. Max opened his mouth to answer him, but he stopped when he realized that everyone around him had become dead silent, and all of them were looking in his direction…or rather, looking at the man standing before him.

“ That’s a prince ,“ someone said with a soft yet terrified tone. The term prince made Max confused for a second because he didn’t know if it was figurative or literal.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. It is an honor to meet you,” the man greeted with a flawless curtsy. His voice was also soothing, like he was singing you a lullaby. There was just something about him that felt sensual.

Max studied the man in front of him. Other than wearing the same black uniform as his brother, he noticed he was wearing a different brooch on his collar. There were two of them, too—a golden rose and a crown. It was different from his brother, who had a silver lock and a key. It was also apparent that this student wasn’t ordinary, so Max looked straight into his eyes and said back, “It seems as though the honor is not mine.”

The man whom they called a ‘prince’ smirked upon hearing what Max had to say. He was content with the response, so he let go of Max’s shoulder and walked towards one of the screens.

Like Moses, everyone moved aside and gave him a clear path. When he reached the screen, he typed a name with his slender fingers, and Max’s student information appeared. “As expected of a Sinclaire. You’re in Class II-A. It’s already an impressive title to be in an A-class, so I commend you for that.”

Max didn’t know what that was about, but everyone’s terrified gaze wasn’t helping the situation at all.

Who was that man?

“So, how has your first day been going, Sinclaire? How does it feel to be no one when the world outside revolves around you?” the man asked with a coy smile. He wanted a reaction from Max, but Max was smart enough to ignore the bait rather than be provoked by it.

“Even if I answered your question, I don’t expect you to understand it,” Max said back, and the shock on everyone’s faces could be seen from a mile away. It was like he had just publicly committed a crime, and everyone was ready to condemn him.

The man grinned, and without any warning, he touched Max’s chin and tilted it upward so Max could look straight at him. He could have chosen to do something else, but he decided to take the risk and touch Max like that.

One of the things Max hated the most was when people touched him. It was one thing when they touched his shoulder, but it was another when they touched his face. At this point, Max didn’t care if he was an actual son of a king or not.

“Let go of me,” Max commanded, but the man didn’t say anything and leaned close to his face until he was only a few inches away.

Max got ready to push the living hell out of that man, but before he could do anything that he’d regret in the future, someone arrived at the scene and pushed the man away from Max first. 

Students gasped.

That someone was none other than Max’s brother, Marcus Thompson.

“How dare you touch him with such filthy hands?” Marcus said in such a serious tone that even Max was surprised by it. The students who were now surrounding them couldn’t even move anymore. They had already looked scared when they saw this other guy, but now that Marcus had gotten involved, they looked even more terrified.

Unfortunately, the man who was face-to-face with Marcus didn’t even look fazed as he showed him his hand. “Don’t worry, Marcus. I’m wearing gloves.”

Marcus pushed the man’s hand away from his face in anger. “Don’t even try to act funny. Don’t you know who he is?” Marcus asked, and the Asian man chuckled like Marcus had just asked him what 1+1 was.

“Oh, I know. I know him very well,” he answered before looking back at Max. “But I don’t want to get into a fight with the third strongest brotherhood on the first day. Isn’t that right, Sinclaire?” he asked, but the confusion on Max’s face made him pause for a second.

“Wait, no way,” the prince tried suppressing a smile. But after processing the newfound information, he couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. 

Everyone who was there just watched in silence as the man’s laughter echoed around the halls of the building. “Holy shit, he doesn’t know a goddamn thing,” he said in between his growing laughter.

“You fucking shut up,” Marcus demanded, but the man ignored him and turned his back away from Marcus.

Max was confused about the entire situation, but before he could even ask anyone to make it clearer for him, the man in front of him stopped laughing. With an excited smile, he continued, “I’m sorry for the late introduction. I am Ren Adachi , a member of Pretty Duo under the Prince Brotherhood PHD. Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, I welcome you…to the House of Kings.”

|END|

03 | Who Holds the Power?

♟

MARCUS FOLLOWED BEHIND MAX as fast as he could. He kept calling out for him, but Max wasn’t responding. It wasn’t because he couldn’t hear him. It was because Max didn’t want to talk or even look at his brother. 

After Max’s encounter with Ren Adachi, he finally understood why Janus and Marcus had been so secretive. It all revolved around one word: brotherhoods.

To most people, the term sounded harmless, almost like an organization born from loyalty and camaraderie. But for high society, a brotherhood wasn’t about team building and private dinners. It was modeled after criminal organizations formed by powerful offenders who preserved rank and loyalty even inside prison. Power didn’t vanish behind bars; it reorganized itself.

And somehow, Janus had decided that such a system belonged in a high school.

Had his uncle lost his mind?

“Max.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Please, I can explain.”

Max stopped walking and turned around to look at his brother, who also made a sudden halt. “You’re good, Mr. Thompson. You and our uncle. You’re both the same.” Max told him with a half-hearted smile. Marcus wanted to say something to at least defend himself, but words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Max found it funny how he didn’t even try to say anything at least, even if it was a stupid excuse.

“Has it ever crossed your mind to even tell me, for god’s sake?!” Max now asked with a louder tone.

Marcus aggressively scratched the back of his head and finally opened his mouth. “I wanted to tell you, okay? But Uncle told me not to. He knew that you’d react like this.”

Max couldn’t believe what he just heard. He almost wanted to punch him out of complete anger. “React like what? Like a normal person? Do you even know what brotherhoods are? God, Marcus, I am a future chairman of one of the biggest corporations in the world. I have kept my name and our family name clean for as long as I can remember. What do you think the outcome would be if something happens to me here?” Max asked, his temper reaching its utmost limit.

Marcus started looking worried. He was searching for the right words to say next, trying his best to turn the situation around. “You don’t have to worry about that. There are rules, okay? Rules that keep the brotherhoods at bay. We cannot physically hurt the students. There’s a certain—” Marcus instantly stopped when he saw his brother’s horrified reaction.

“We. You said we,” Max repeated, and Marcus cursed under his breath upon realizing it himself.

Max forced out a laugh and brushed his hair back with his fingers. After everything he had already experienced today, this was finally the end of the line for him. Nothing he’d learn now would be more shocking than this. “Of course. The uniform and the brooch said it all. I’m an idiot,” Max said, still trying to laugh it off because this all seemed like a big joke now.

Marcus knew that whatever he said now wouldn’t make Max feel any better. He knew that the smartest thing to do was to accept his mistake and give Max the time to think.

“You have always kept secrets from me. You’ve lied so much before that I thought you’d at least get tired of it, but I guess I was wrong,” Max told him, but this time, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Max, I—”

“I’ve always wanted the truth from you. Apparently, all this time, that hasn’t been clear enough.” 

Max didn’t break eye contact. But before he started saying anything else that would end up hurting him and his brother, he decided to just walk away. And this time, Marcus didn’t follow him.

…

On the second floor of the Hall of Caelus, where the 2nd-year classes were placed, Max arrived at room 201, where Class II-A could be found. Students placed in an A-class had an above-average grade of 94% from their previous year. For Max’s case and for any other student who enrolled this year, their grade would be based on the score they received on their placement exams. Students in this class also had a handful of awards and achievements, since it was one of the requirements needed to be part of the class. This was the reason why Ren Adachi mentioned that being in an A-class was an impressive accomplishment.

Max, who had been staring at the door for a while now, took a long, deep breath to calm his nerves. His conversation with his brother hadn’t ended well, and the loud noises coming from inside his new classroom were making him anxious.

After gathering all his courage, Max finally opened the door. The moment he did so, everyone in the room became quiet. Students who had even been playing around stopped what they were doing to look at him. There were twenty students inside the class, a number that Max wasn’t expecting to see because he thought there would be more of them.

Max avoided eye contact and proceeded to look for an empty seat. But as he was doing so, a tall student suddenly stood in his way and told him, “Hey, aren’t you even going to greet us?”

“Yeah. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Introduce yourself, new kid,” another student added.

Max looked around the room with a blank expression. Everyone was looking at him with mocking smiles. As much as he hated where this was going, Max knew that if he didn’t play along, this wouldn’t end well for him. 

“I’m Maximilian Sinclaire.” Max finally introduced himself before pushing away the student who was blocking his path.

The class howled at Max’s surprising behavior, while the student he pushed didn’t seem to like the attitude at all. Feeling embarrassed at the dismissive response, he followed Max to the seat he chose to claim, which was the seat at the far right of the room.

As soon as Max hung his bag on the table’s hook, the student who stopped him earlier suddenly kicked his chair away and grabbed Max’s shoulder, forcefully making the young heir face him.

“You think you’re all that just ’cause you’re a Sinclaire? Is that it?” the student argued.

The class became quiet. Not because their classmates were picking a fight with Max, but because Max was able to stop his chair from colliding with the other student who was sitting beside him.

“You almost hit him,” Max said, referring to the guy whose seat almost clashed with his.

The tough student laughed and looked back at his friends, who awkwardly laughed with him. “Come on now, don’t act like you actually give a shit about others. We’ve seen the news. We know what kind of person you really are. Destructive and selfish, just like your mother.” He sneered.

As soon as his mother was mentioned, something inside Max snapped. He could tolerate the embarrassment and the bullying, but the single mention of his mother, who had passed away five years ago, finally tipped his iceberg.

Max didn’t care about the outcome. He disregarded his image and got ready to throw a punch, but the student who had almost been hit by the chair earlier immediately stood from his seat to stop him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He’s an underling.”

“And I’m not feeling merciful,” Max answered, looking back at the supposed underling. “I’ve been receiving crap ever since I arrived in this school. I swore I’d go along with the principles that J.S. High embodies, principles that state that everything I am would be nothing if I stepped foot on its grounds.”

The student wanted to say something back, but Max’s growing dominance was consuming him. He took a step back every time Max got closer. He was starting to feel scared of him.

“I can endure the insults, but the moment you mention my mother, heaven will fall upon you,” Max warned him.

When the boy finally reached a wall, Max grabbed hold of his collar and noticed his bronze brooch, which looked like a clown mask. This must have been a symbol that he was an underling, like what that other guy had mentioned earlier. Max chuckled when he saw it.

“Underling, you say? How pathetic.” He let go of the guy’s collar and looked him straight in the eye. “Who cares if you’re an underling? I’m a Sinclaire. Mention my mother one last time, and you will never be able to go out of the walls of this school again. I swear to you, I can ruin your life without even lifting a finger.”

The man pinned against the wall looked back at Max with complete horror. Everyone was silent. If any other student had said such a bold statement, they would have just laughed it off and thought of it as a bluff. But Max wasn’t just any other student. Everything he said could become a reality in front of their very own eyes.

“That’s enough.” Someone commanded, his voice echoing around the room because of how loud it was.

Everyone looked at the doorway and found a professor standing there with his arms crossed. He was surprisingly lean compared to his low voice, and his hair was perfectly waxed back. It was obvious he was covered in tattoos too, since everyone could glimpse them on his neck and hands. If not for his uniform, the students wouldn’t have even guessed that he was a professor at all.

“Sit down. All of you.”

The students were too surprised to even move. Their shocked reactions and terrified expressions confused Max for the hundredth time now.

“ That’s Sir Barron, right? Why is he here ?“ a student standing near Max whispered to the guy sitting beside him.

“Who the hell is this man now?” Max mumbled to himself as he stared at the professor like the rest of the class did. 

When everyone didn’t respond to what they were instructed to do, the professor walked towards the platform that was placed at the front, placing both of his hands behind him like he was some kind of general in the military. He didn’t say a word and just stared down at them, but that was enough to finally make everyone take their seats.

Max was impressed by the authority the professor possessed. He didn’t say anything else and just let go of the student he was pinning against the wall before grabbing his chair and taking a seat.

“That’s Sir Kai Barron. He’s a professor in one of the special classes,” the student sitting beside Max suddenly told him. He was also the same student who stopped him from throwing a punch earlier.

“And I’m assuming that’s a big deal,” Max answered without looking back at him.

The student smiled, glad that Max had even responded to him. 

“I’m Ari Faulkner , by the way.” The student whose name was Ari introduced himself with a confident smile. 

Ari was only a few inches taller than Max. His hair had different shades of red, almost like he had colored it himself for the first time, which explained how bad the outcome was. And every time he smiled, his dimples would show. He was no doubt a charming fellow.

“Max,” Max said back, and Ari’s smile widened.

The two looked back at Sir Barron, who was glaring at the students with complete disgust. He was looking at them like they were some kind of germ. “It’s the first day, and what do I get? A bunch of animals running wild like it’s an open zoo. What a disgrace. And you call yourselves A-Class students.” He told them.

Sir Barron started walking around the room. Every student that he got close to would either freeze in their seats or avoid making eye contact with him. It only made Max even more curious about why they feared such a man as him.

“To those who don’t know me yet, I am Kai Barron , one of the special class professors at J.S. High. I graduated with a degree in Corporate Governance before completing my Master of Laws in International Business Law.” Sir Barron explained, not proudly, but a-matter-of-factly.

“Now, for those who do know me…congratulations, I will be your new class adviser,” Sir Barron then revealed when he stood in the middle of the class. 

The students practically gasped upon hearing the news.

“What’s going on here? Sir Barron never took the job as a class adviser before,” Ari said in shock. He didn’t directly say it to Max, but Max was surprised by the information as well. Because if that was the case, then this class was important enough to have him assigned to it.

“Now, as your adviser, let me share with you all three things that I truly hate,” Sir Barron said next as he walked towards a small and fragile-looking boy sitting near the window. 

“One: weak students.” He looked straight at the student’s face. “I don’t need students who will act as the weak link in my class. If you ever fall into that category, I will remove you.”

The small boy gulped in terror. He couldn’t even move. But when their adviser walked away from him, he exhaled, hinting that he had held his breath the entire time Sir Barron was looking at him.

The professor then walked toward the student with whom Max had an argument earlier. 

“Two: kids who cause trouble.”

The student gritted his teeth, but he didn’t dare say a thing.

“You may be one of the best students of your year, but don’t get too cocky. If you ever make unnecessary trouble, and if your grade in the 1st term drops even at the slightest, I will kick you out of here with no mercy,” Sir Barron directly told him.

“That goes for all of you. There are a lot of reasons why you’re placed in this class, and one of them is that the school takes pride in your achievements. But I’m your class adviser now, and it is stated in Section 20 of the students’ handbook that students in an A-Class can be removed if they do not meet the standard that is set by their designated adviser,” Sir Barron reminded them, and some students groaned in the background, displeased by what they had heard.

To finish up the “Top 3 Things Sir Barron Hated,” their infamous class adviser made his final stop in front of Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.

“And lastly, number three of the things that I hate…are people who think they’re high and mighty just because of what they are outside the great walls of this school,” Sir Barron finished while looking straight into Max’s eyes.

“Sinclaire. You should know better than to threaten someone with outside matters,” he told him.

Max was surprised by the accusation, so he tried to defend himself, “I didn’t know that I was supposed to—” But Sir Barron didn’t even let him finish as he looked back at the student who was put on the spot before him.

“You too, Ervin Walker . I’ll have to talk to you about that attitude of yours later,” he told him before heading back to stand in front of the class.

“I’ll be giving out the rules of this class after Brotherhood Week. For now, you’re all expected to wait here before the House Assembly,” Sir Barron finished. He then headed to the door to leave, but before stepping out, he looked back at Max and said, “You, Sinclaire. Follow me.”

Everyone looked back at Max. Even Ari was surprised.

Max took a deep breath and stood from his seat. Without saying anything, he followed their class adviser outside.

When Max got out of their room, he spotted Sir Barron reading a document. Without removing his eyes from the paper, he told Max, “Your uncle is too concerned about you that it’s sickening.”

Max almost laughed, but he tried his best not to. “I knew something like that would happen, considering the fact that everyone was surprised about you being our class adviser.”

“Being a mere classroom adviser is the least of my concerns, but I am not a babysitter. You should know what to do and what not to do,” he said, referring to what had happened earlier.

Max wanted to defend himself once more, but Sir Barron didn’t even give him the chance to speak.

“I also heard about what happened at the Keep earlier. It’s a good thing your brother arrived before the situation got worse. Clashing with a member of a brotherhood on your first day will only cause you headaches,” Sir Barron added, frustrating Max even more.

“I don’t need my brother’s protection.”

“Put your pride down for once, Maximilian,” Sir Barron told him, surprising Max because he called him by his first name, and not because of what he said about his pride.

“So what? Should I be scared of those brotherhoods instead?” he asked, and Sir Barron finally looked at him.

“You don’t have to worry about the brotherhoods. Students in black uniforms always follow the rules. Their leaders are senior students with the highest form of ranking, which is why they are feared but at the same time respected. Most of them have underlings in lower years. Ervin was one of them. It would be a problem if they mentioned what you did to them to their leaders.”

“Well, I apologize for causing trouble. It’s a little hard to adjust right now. Give me a day, and I might get the hang of this brotherhood system,” Max explained with no hint of sarcasm whatsoever.

Sir Barron sighed and crumpled the document he was reading. “I know President Janus didn’t tell you about the brotherhood system, so I’ll let what happened earlier slide. I’ll hand you the White Uniform and Brotherhood Handbook later as well. Study both and make sure you know each rule by heart. That’s how you’ll survive here,” Sir Barron explained to Max, and the only thing Max could do was nod his head as an answer.

Sir Barron then took something out of his pocket. It was a black card, similar to a credit card, but it had J.S. High’s logo, Max’s full name, and his student number imprinted on it instead. He handed it to Max, and Max scanned the unfamiliar item thoroughly.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/d54400bf2c69df485d955b0e9c315aa9485d2876/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6872333132724c72787a6e5631413d3d2d313030383534363836322e313839393430333334316561363133613735343337393235373532322e706e67)               

“That’s your student card, which is also linked to your actual credit card. That is what you will use inside the campus. It will also show you your rank once you scan it in the computers found at the office. If you don’t know yet, ranks are important here,” Sir Barron explained as he gestured at the card Max was now holding.

“Ranks? So what rank am I then?” Max asked before putting the card inside his coat’s inner pocket.

Sir Barron smirked and answered him, “From now on, you should get used to being at the very bottom.”

Max glared at their adviser after hearing his answer, but before Sir Barron could say anything else, a student in a white uniform arrived and greeted him.

Max’s eyes narrowed, studying the figure. 

Shoulder-length hair, a mole near his right eye, and a gaze that’s reserved yet quietly intense. He looked like the perfect model student, but his aura said otherwise. It was steady, commanding, and oddly familiar, as if Max had stood in its shadow once before, though he couldn’t recall when.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation, Sir Barron, but everyone is already waiting for you at the stadium,” the student said, his voice low and unhurried.

“I see. Then let us not keep them waiting,” Sir Barron replied as he started walking away without saying his goodbyes to Max.

Max expected the newcomer to follow right after him, but instead, the tall student turned his head and said, “It would be wise if you wear your complete uniform.”

Max blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. When the student gestured toward the top of his head, Max realized he had forgotten his peaked cap, left dirtied and ruined from the earlier incident.

“I would be a fool if I wore it now. It has a tire mark on it,” Max muttered.

The student didn’t budge. His gaze was unwavering, his tone unshaken. 

“Wear it.”

It wasn’t a request. Max wasn’t used to being spoken to like that, least of all by someone he had just met.

He was about to glance at the student’s collar to check for a brooch that might explain his authority, but with frustrating timing, the boy turned and walked away before Max could catch a glimpse.

Max cursed himself for missing the chance. He had no way of knowing who this student really was, yet the strange feeling wouldn’t leave him. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something in that presence, a familiarity just out of reach, that unsettled him more than the demand itself.

One thing, however, was certain. 

Whoever he was, he was definitely not ordinary.

|END|

04 | The Hierarchy Within

♟

AFTER HIS SHORT CONVERSATION with their homeroom teacher, Max decided to sink everything in before heading back to his new class. He only wanted peace and quiet for at least a couple of minutes, but it was disrupted the instant he heard a loud banging sound coming from their room.

“There is never a dull moment now, is there?” Max sighed and entered with an exhausted look. He wasn’t expecting much, but to his surprise, he saw Ervin Walker pinned against the wall with a chair.  Even more shocking, the one pushing the chair with his feet was Ari Faulkner, the boy who sat beside Max.

“I understand that you want to flaunt your rank and status to the new kid, but make sure you don’t get people like me involved. Got it?” Ari asked, his face far more serious and taunting than the cheerful smile Max had seen earlier.

“Ervin is crazy to hit Ari like that. Even if it was an accident.”

“He’s the second-highest-ranking student in our year. Ervin isn’t crazy. He’s an idiot.”

“More like unlucky.”

Max overheard the whispers as he approached Ervin and Ari. The room fell silent when the other students noticed him. Though unspoken, everyone felt it. The aura radiating from the three boys was overwhelming. These three, plus Sir Barron as their homeroom teacher, would no doubt make Class II-A the talk of the entire school.

“Pardon me, but the chair you’re using to pin him against the wall is mine,” Max said calmly, his blank stare unwavering.

Ari gritted his teeth and turned to snap at whoever interrupted, but when he saw Max, his expression flipped in an instant. The seriousness melted into a bright grin. “Max! Sorry, I was just borrowing it for a minute.” He released the chair, finally allowing Ervin to breathe.

“Were you planning to kill him?” Max asked, arms crossed as Ari returned the chair to its place.

Ervin shot a look at Max and shoved past him to get back to his seat. He clearly wanted to say something, but his silence showed he wasn’t in a position to.

One by one, the others went back to minding their business. Ari pulled out a handkerchief, wiped the seat, and gestured for Max to sit.

Max sighed but sat anyway, following Ari’s lead. He didn’t wait for Ari to settle before shooting questions. “What was that about? And what did they mean when they said you’re the second-highest-ranking student in our year?”

Ari blinked at the sudden curiosity, then smiled as he composed himself. Without asking permission, he scooted closer. “As you may already know, J.S. High isn’t a normal school. It has its own system, and one of those systems is the ranking system. It was created to force students to compete with each other. And to climb ranks, you need merit points.”

Max frowned, like he’d just heard a foreign word. Before Ari could go further, he pulled out a black hardbound notebook and a fountain pen. “Please continue.”

Ari stared at the notebook, then laughed. He hadn’t expected Max to take this so seriously. “Alright then, the merit point system…”

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/f4e2d30f48337f496e1f5b68c9b47c8301e4d986/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f66514364695934747666324e43513d3d2d313031313133353739352e313839393564633830333665303434373331343630333434363536312e706e67)               

“Do all the students share the same ranking, or is it by year level?” Max asked.

“All the students in J.S. High are in the same ranking,” Ari replied.

“Then wouldn’t that be unfair to freshmen? They just started.”

Ari understood his point and agreed. “Well, of course, seniors are ranked higher since they’ve been in J.S. High longer, but there’s this bracket we follow. A very, very important bracket.”

“And what could that be?”

Ari smiled and bravely took Max’s notebook and pen. Once again, without asking for permission, he started writing.

“Think of it this way,” Ari explained, scribbling in Max’s notebook. “Your rank decides whether you’re a Gaffer, a Dweller, or a Serf, but the cutoff isn’t the same for everyone. Freshmen are compared against freshmen, sophomores against sophomores, and so on. A freshman who’s ranked 460 could be a Gaffer in their year, but if they were a sophomore, they’d already be a Dweller. It all depends on the bracket.”

“J.S. High is known as the House of Kings,” he went on. “It’s the castle. And every castle has a hierarchy. For White Uniforms, the hierarchy looks like this—”

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Max stared at the not-so-neat rows of numbers and Ari’s terrible handwriting in disbelief. Even though Ari hadn’t said it outright, the answer was obvious: he was a Serf. A second-year student with zero accumulated merit points couldn’t possibly fall anywhere else.

“So technically, I’m at the very bottom,” Max muttered, half to himself, half to Ari.

Ari only grinned in response, leaning back as if to enjoy Max’s discomfort.

“It’s okay now since you’re a transferee. It’s like a free pass,” Ari reassured him eventually. “But you won’t get a free pass on everything. There are guys like Walker. He’s one of the hidden types.” Ari pointed toward Ervin, who was laughing with his friends as if nothing had happened.

“Let me guess…an underling?” Max asked.

“That’s right,” Ari said. “Underlings aren’t official Brotherhood members, but they’re protected by one. That’s why most Serfs join up for protection. It’s a smart move.”

“Then the only reason Ervin didn’t fight back is because he’s either a Serf or a Dweller, and you’re a Gaffer.”

“He’s a Dweller,” Ari clarified.

“Then that only makes you a Gaffer,” Max concluded.

Ari shrugged, his sly smile confirming it.

“Why would a Gaffer be nice to a Serf like me, then? You obviously want something in return.”

Ari leaned close, whispering in Max’s ear, “ Your brother wouldn’t like it if I don’t play nice .“

Max’s eyes widened. No one knew about Marcus. No one even knew he had a sibling. He almost shoved Ari away, but the campus bell rang, stopping him cold.

“Looks like the House Assembly is about to begin. Let’s go, Max,” Ari said with his usual cheerful grin, as if he hadn’t just thrown a grenade into Max’s head.

As the others left, Ari walked toward the exit. Max followed, then grabbed his wrist.

“I may be unknowledgeable now, but I’m not deaf. You can play nice all you want, but you just stepped into the wrong playground. I won’t let something so serious slide again, especially when it involves my family.”

Ari yanked his hand free, his smile gone. The two locked eyes, their standoff electric in the empty classroom. It might have lasted forever if someone hadn’t bumped into Max’s shoulder, breaking the tension. He turned away and left without another word.

Ari took a deep breath and touched his chest. As tough as he was, there was just something different about Sinclaire. If it hadn’t been for the guy who bumped into Max, Ari would have looked away first. It felt like he was staring at something inhuman. He almost felt frightened.

“Hey, Max,” Ari called out once he calmed himself down. Max was already near the exit when he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “What?” he asked.

Ari pointed at his own head. “Peaked cap. They’re not going to allow you in the stadium without it.”

Max didn’t answer right away. He wanted to ignore it, but Ari was the second student to remind him about it. Wearing the cap might really be important after all. 

“It’s not in the rules that it has to be clean, right?” Max asked.

Ari blinked at the odd question, so Max went to his bag and showed him the tire-stained cap. Ari stared for a second before bursting out laughing.

Max rolled his eyes in annoyance. Still, thanks to Ari’s outburst, the tension between them had completely vanished.

“It must be a talent for you,” Ari said between laughs.

Max crossed his arms, expectant. “What is?”

“To stand out,” Ari replied, and just as soon as he stopped laughing, he started again. Max wanted to smack him, but knew it wouldn’t make a difference. When Ari finally calmed down, he wiped his eyes and added, “Don’t worry, new kid. The rules don’t say the uniform has to be clean. Knock yourself out.”

…

Ari and Max walked toward the gymnasium— “the stadium,” as the school called it—where the most-awaited assembly would be held. After Ari’s explanation about Gaffers, Dwellers, and Serfs, Max could now see the separation of each type more clearly. He especially noticed it when some students moved away from Ari, who was apparently a Gaffer.

“I haven’t asked you yet, but how high is your rank anyway? You said that to be a Gaffer in our year, you have to rank above three hundred,” Max asked as they walked side by side.

People stared at them, and Max had three guesses as to why. One, because he was a Sinclaire. Two, because he was walking beside Ari. And three, the most obvious, because his peaked cap had a tire mark on it.

Ari tried not to laugh again, but the third reason was too obvious. “I can’t believe a Sinclaire is confidently walking down the halls of J.S. High with a dirty peaked cap.” When he saw Max glaring, he cleared his throat and answered the question. “I’m not really that high, but I’m ranked 294.”

“Well, that means you’re ranked higher than some juniors, right? That’s pretty impressive. How did you even get that—” Max was cut off when a small boy was suddenly shoved toward them. Ari stepped aside, leaving the boy to collide with Max hard enough to almost knock him over.

Everyone around them froze.

“Seriously, Max, when you see someone hurling toward you, you move away, not block the way,” Ari muttered. But Max was already staring at the three students who had pushed the boy.

Ari recognized the kid and tugged Max toward him. “Let’s go. That’s a Serf, and those guys are Dwellers from Class II-B. As a Serf yourself, it’s common sense that you—” He stopped midsentence when Max pushed him aside to approach the three.

“I should really get used to the fact that you don’t fucking listen,” Ari grumbled.

Max walked right up to the boys. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

They exchanged glances and laughed. One stepped forward, gave a mocking bow, and said, “I apologize.”

Max didn’t look impressed. “Not to me. To him.” He pointed at the terrified boy behind him. The kid flinched and hid, while the three stopped pretending to play along.

“The fuck do you want, Serf?” one sneered, shoving Max.

Max stumbled but caught his footing. He stepped closer, smiling. “Let me make a bargain, then. Hit me instead. That’s why you’re bullying him, right? You want to hurt someone and humiliate them in front of everyone here. If that’s not it, then…what’s the fucking point?”

Whispers spread across the crowd. The three looked around, visibly frustrated at the attention.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this,” Ari said, finally stepping in front of Max and blocking the boys’ view. He didn’t need to say a word. The moment they saw his face, their bravado vanished.

“That’s fucking Ari.”

“Shit, let’s go.”

They bolted without hesitation. The crowd scattered just as quickly when Ari glared their way. When calm returned, he turned back to Max. “You knew they weren’t going to hit you, didn’t you? Even with all the ranks, you’re still a Sinclaire. Some people will always be afraid of you, regardless of the school’s principles.”

Max only shrugged and walked back to the boy they’d just saved.

Ari followed. “You shouldn’t always be so confident, Max. You’ll eventually meet students who don’t give a fuck who you are.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Max replied, making Ari sigh. He stopped in front of the boy, studying him so intently that the kid squirmed.

“Well, you owe me one. I just saved your ass,” Ari said.

“Consider it repayment for what you said about my supposed brother. You should be glad I’m not interrogating you right now,” Max shot back without looking away from the boy.

Ari crossed his arms, angry at himself for letting that slip. Max was going to use it against him for as long as he liked.

“You should know how to respect the system,” Ari muttered instead. “And respecting the system means knowing your place. Outside J.S. High, you might’ve been treated well, but it’s different here.”

Max finished his inspection and finally glanced back at Ari. “Don’t worry. I know my place. You have no idea what I’d have done if I didn’t.”

Ari stayed quiet. He knew Max wasn’t bluffing.

“Besides, we need him,” Max added, gesturing at the small boy. 

The kid flinched again.

Ari was about to ask why, but stopped at one word. “Wait. Did you just say we? We as in…you and me? Since when are we a team?”

Max ignored him and looked at the boy. He was tiny for his age, practically grade school size. “You’re from our class, right? The kid Sir Barron singled out with his ‘first most hated thing.’”

“He got that one right at least,” Ari chuckled under his breath.

Max glared at him, then turned back. “What’s your name?”

The boy looked down. “F-Felix… Felix Campbell .”

Max smiled. With that surname and heavy Australian accent, he knew exactly who he was. “We met before. You were at a gala with your parents and sister. If I recall, you had five guards with you.”

Felix’s eyes widened at the recognition.

“Holy shit, five guards? What are you, the president’s son?” Ari blurted, half-joking.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk then. Want to start now? Without guards and formality,” Max offered.

Felix looked ready to cry. “Will that be okay with you, Sir Sinclaire?” His eyes sparkled.

Before Max could reply, Ari cut in. “Oh, I am not babysitting two Serfs.”

“Then rejoin your own friends,” Max retorted.

Ari clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “Ouch. You had to hit where it hurts. How’d you know I don’t have friends?”

Max glanced at both him and Felix. “Judging by how our class treats you, they’re too scared of you. After all, you’re the only Gaffer. And this guy’s too weak for anyone to bother with.”

“So you’re recruiting loners now?” Ari asked.

“It’s called investing.”

Max walked away, leaving Ari to sigh before following. Felix trailed nervously until Ari glared at him. Felix fell back, only to brighten when Max looked over his shoulder.

“Keep up, Campbell.”

Felix jogged happily to Max’s other side. Ari crossed his arms, annoyed. When their eyes met, Felix stuck his tongue out. For a split second, Ari glimpsed the not-so-timid boy beneath the act.

As they continued toward the stadium, Ari suddenly remembered something Max had said earlier. “By the way, you’re wrong about one thing, Max.”

Max raised a brow.

“I’m not the only Gaffer in our class.”

|END|

05 | Inside the Houses

♟

THE STADIUM WAS ALREADY filled with white uniforms when Max, Ari, and Felix arrived. 

The students were divided into four levels: Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors. Each level was then divided into four classes, designated as Class A through Class D. Everyone sat in the bleachers according to their year and class, although the empty seats in the middle stood out. For anyone paying attention, it was obvious those were reserved for the Brotherhoods.

The place looked more modern compared to the rest of the buildings in J.S. High, but referring to it as a stadium fit the school’s medieval theme.

“How many years did it take them to build this?” Max asked, still admiring the structure.

“It took five years. But don’t worry, you’ll learn more about it eventually. There’s a special class for that,” Ari explained, giving no further detail.

“Our class is seated there,” Felix pointed, indicating the bleachers where the second-years had gathered.

The three of them made their way over. Students stared and whispered like before, but this time Ari knew it wasn’t about the tire-stained peaked cap. 

It was about Max Sinclaire.

Most might not grasp just how powerful Max really was, but he held the balance of the business world in his slender fingers. His father is the chairman of the most successful hotels and casinos worldwide, while his mother—once part of the elite group Crème de la Crème —was known as one of the super elites herself. 

They’re old money. Their riches were passed down through generations. And Max, as their only heir, stood to inherit both legacies. The power and wealth he would eventually hold could make presidents and CEOs bow if he wanted to.

“Max, I’ve always wondered…why enroll here all of a sudden? You obviously don’t even know how this school works. So why?” Ari asked once they were seated with the rest of their class.

Felix glanced at Max, equally curious.

Max kept his eyes on the crowd of students still finding their seats. “I respect my family and take pride in our name. I’m not ashamed of being a Sinclaire. There’s no reason I should be,” he answered. “But with all the advantages and responsibilities that come with it, I still want to prove myself without everyone saying it’s only because I’m a Sinclaire. My uncle told me this was the right place to start. And I believe him.”

“So you want to prove your worth?” Ari asked.

Max nodded.

“If that’s the case, then maybe you should raise your rank first,” Felix suggested.

“Raising one’s rank is the goal of every student here at J.S. High,” Ari cut in. “But if you really want to make a name for yourself, you have to—”

Just as Ari was about to explain further, he was interrupted by the sudden roar of the students. They all turned toward the stage, where a familiar figure had appeared. 

It was the president of the Elites, Ian Rothman.

Ian had already made a lasting impression at the Freshmen orientation. His charisma, his bearing, and the way he commanded the crowd were enough to make Max respect him.

“Good morning, House of Kings!” Ian shouted, and the students cheered even louder.

As the excitement built, Ari leaned toward Max and raised his voice above the noise. “That’s who you should target if you want people to recognize your worth.”

Felix nodded in agreement.

“The Elites?” Max asked.

“That’s right. The Elites hold the most power over the students and the school’s system,” Felix explained. “The reason for that is they’re made up of the five highest-ranked students in J.S. High.”

“That’s why there’s no election,” Ari added. “You don’t vote your way in…you climb.”

Max rubbed his chin, studying Ian, who continued addressing the crowd with easy confidence. It finally clicked why Ian’s presence was so commanding. He didn’t pay his way to the top. He wasn’t just popular either. Among the hundreds of students in J.S. High, Ian Rothman defeated everyone. He had earned his way there.

“You said you need merit points to increase your rank, right? So how many points do you two actually have?” Max asked.

Ari thought for a moment. “Since I’m ranked 294, I’ve accumulated at least 3,600 points.”

Max raised his brows, impressed. Felix was even more shocked, since he knew the average for their year was nowhere near that.

“And you?” Ari asked Felix.

Felix fidgeted under their gaze, scratching his head. “I’m not really active in school activities. I’m ranked 408 with…1,420 points.”

Ari’s eyes widened. A student needed at least 1,500 points to finish freshman year properly. Felix was eighty points short of even being considered a Dweller.

“It might be rude to ask, but how did you get into an A-Class then? Are you the smartest guy in our year?” Max asked.

“Unlikely,” Ari said. “I scored second-highest in the entrance exam. The one who topped it…that’s the other Gaffer I mentioned earlier.”

“Then what about you?” Max pressed Felix again.

Felix hesitated, then shyly held up three fingers.

Ari frowned in confusion…until it hit him.

“You’re top three?!” Ari asked in disbelief. Memories from the medal ceremony came rushing back. There had been a small boy with glasses, hair falling over his eyes, standing right beside him on stage. He hadn’t matched Felix’s current look at all, but the height…that was unmistakable.

“I kinda changed my look this year,” Felix admitted, catching Ari’s puzzled expression.

Max smiled and patted Felix’s head. “Good for you, then.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed red, while Ari just kept staring, still trying to compare the timid boy in front of him with the prodigy he remembered. 

Felix had famously fallen asleep during the placement exam, waking up with barely twenty minutes left. But despite that, he still finished and placed third. Rumor said he hadn’t even answered every question, so what would’ve happened if he had?

“Is there any way to rank faster?” Max asked.

Ari snapped out of his thoughts, looking at Max again. “There is. But no one outside of underlings has ever managed it.”

“What is it?”

Felix and Ari glanced at each other before answering in unison, “The Brotherhoods.” 

Max was surprised. That was an answer he least expected.

“The…brotherhoods?”

“That’s right. They’re the only ones who can hand out insane amounts of merit points,” Ari revealed, surprising Max even more. He didn’t know students could give points too. Now that changes everything.

“What do you need to do so they could give you merit points?” Max wanted to know more, but the crowd’s scream cut him off.

“To officially start our assembly,” Ian announced, “let me first welcome the House of Kings’ very own council…the Elites!”

The student council filed onto the stage. Among the familiar faces Max recognized from orientation, one new figure stood out. It was the boy who had scolded him about wearing his peaked cap while he’d been talking to Sir Barron.

“That tall guy with black hair…he’s an Elite?” Max asked, eyes locked on him.

“Oh, him? That’s Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev . The vice president,” Felix answered.

Max’s eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. No wonder Gavriil had spoken so boldly to him. As Max squinted at the insignia on his collar, the details sharpened. He displayed a brooch of an Ionic column on the right, matching Ian and the others. And on the left, a Roman numeral II. Rank 2. Every Elite wore the same numerical badge corresponding to their rank.

“I met him earlier,” Max muttered. “He called for Sir Barron while we were talking. He must be a senior if he’s that casual with our class adviser.”

Both Ari and Felix exchanged a look, then turned back to Max.

“Max, he’s in the same class as us,” Ari revealed. “He’s the Gaffer I told you about.”

Max’s mouth opened. He couldn’t believe it. A second-year ranked that high?

“That guy is one of the scariest White Uniforms you’ll ever encounter,” Felix added quietly.

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike President Ian, the vice president has power over all White Uniforms. They’re like night and day,” Ari explained. “He can suspend us, or even send us to deliberation if he wants to. That’s the amount of influence he has.”

Max’s shock deepened. “ My uncle gave someone that much power over his students?“ He thought before looking back at the two boys. “Hopefully, he’s not a lunatic.”

Ari shook his head, gaze shifting to the vice president. “It’s annoying to even say out loud, but Gavriil is a man of justice. He was born to rule, or so others claimed. But the one you really have to watch…is the president.”

Max’s eyes followed his to Ian Rothman, still smiling and waving at the crowd like a polished politician.

“He’s kind to us White Uniforms since he doesn’t directly control us. But when it comes to the Brotherhoods, everything about him changes. He’s the only student in the House who stands as their equal…if not above them,” Ari said.

Max felt the hairs on his arms rise. Just when he thought nothing about Ian could impress him anymore, he learns about that. The idea of one student dominating the Brotherhoods was almost impossible to imagine.

“Then how many points do those guys need to hold that much power?” Max asked.

Ari bit his inner cheek, thinking. “If I remember right, Ian has at least…” He paused for a second. “Twelve thousand points.”

“Twelve thousand?!” Max blurted out, drawing a few glances from nearby students.

Onstage, Ian continued addressing the crowd with enthusiasm. Beside him, Vice President Gavriil Alexeev stood with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his sharp gaze sweeping the stadium like a guard. The secretary, Richard Young, and the school’s representative, Dustin Griffiths, mirrored his reserved posture, while Dustin’s twin, Justin, waved at the students with great excitement.

“By the way,” Max asked, lowering his voice, “what’s with the Houses? You keep calling this the House of Kings. Doesn’t that mean there are others?”

As if on cue, the Elites stepped down from the stage. Trumpets blared, and a round, cheerful professor waddled into the spotlight, microphone in hand.

“House of Kings! How are you all doing today?!”

The students roared in response. Max nearly covered his ears at the deafening cheers.

“These are heirs? They sound more like fans at a rock concert,” Max thought.

“That’s Sir  Vincent Coleman ,” Ari explained over the noise. “Language Arts professor for sophomores and juniors. Adviser for the Public Speaking Club. He usually hosts these events.”

Coleman grinned at the crowd. “Wow, the Elites are still looking good! Remember, White Uniforms, if you want to be part of the student council, you’ll have to work harder than you’ve ever worked before.” He gestured toward the Elites, who had taken their place just offstage.

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting. Without further ado, let’s officially begin the House Assembly!”

The crowd thundered with approval.

“Welcome to the world of Brotherhoods, created by none other than the Brotherhood Association! Under its banner stand five schools, each representing a remarkable House. And today, those Houses have gathered here to mark the beginning of our school year. Tell me…are you all ready?!”

More cheers.

“First, let us welcome the House of Pawns, the Eight Soldiers!”

A banner unfurled from the ceiling to the left of the stage. The main doors swung open, and eight students marched in, clad in black Brotherhood uniforms with caps resembling those of the White Uniforms.

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The House of Pawns

(Thomas L. High School) is considered the lowest of the five Houses. Unlike J.S. High and the other schools, they don’t have White Uniforms. Every student belongs to a Brotherhood, which makes them the toughest, regardless of their house standing. 

Among the five houses, thirty brotherhoods are officially recognized, while twenty-two are given official titles. Thomas L. High School has around 28 brotherhoods inside their house alone, but only their top eight are recognized, giving them the name Eight Soldiers.

Those eight brotherhoods might be seen as the lowest-ranked brotherhoods,  but within Thomas L. High School, leading one of the Eight Soldiers is an honor because it means standing at the very top of their House.

The eight leaders entered proudly and took their seats at the far back of the reserved rows in the stadium.

Max’s pen scratched furiously across the notebook he decided to bring with him. He didn’t want to miss a detail. Good thing Felix and Ari whispered explanations as the program unfolded.

“Next up, the House of Rooks!” Coleman shouted as another banner dropped beside the Pawns’.

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The House of

Rooks

(Roland’s School for Boys) sits one step higher than the Pawns. With about four hundred students, they do have White Uniforms, though far fewer than J.S. High. What makes them stand out is their Brotherhoods because only five exist, known as the Captains . Ranked from twenty-two to eighteen, they carry more weight than the Pawns but still stand far from the top.

“Put your hands together for the Captains, ranks twenty-two through eighteen!” Coleman cheered.

The five leaders entered, waving calmly to the crowd. Though their numbers were small, their aura of authority was unmistakable.

“Now, let us proceed to the ever noble Four Horsemen, the House of Knights!”

Another banner dropped on the opposite side of the stadium. Four leaders strode in, each with a sword strapped to their hip.

“I’m guessing those aren’t props,” Max muttered, eyeing the gleaming hilts.

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The House of Knights

(D & F High School) is admired for its discipline and composure. Both its White Uniforms and Brotherhoods embody the ideals of nobility, holding themselves with an air of refinement. Their four brotherhoods, known as the Four Horsemen , are ranked seventeenth through fourteenth.

Each sword is more than a weapon. It is a symbol of tradition and duty. It was also said that the Rank Fourteen brotherhood could surpass higher-ranked ones, but they chose to remain Knights, valuing loyalty to their House above climbing the ladder.

The four bowed to the crowd before taking their seats. Even other leaders shifted uneasily under their presence.

“And now,” Coleman continued, “make way for the House of Bishops!”

A new banner unfurled, and seven new faces entered. Their uniforms were starkly different. They had long cassock-like coats over black leather pants, blending ritual with menace.

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The House of Bishops

(St. George Academy) is the second strongest House, feared as much as it is respected. Their seven Brotherhoods, ranked from thirteen through seven, are infamously called the Seven Deadly Sins . The title isn’t just symbolic. Each Brotherhood is notorious for its arrogance, chaos, and overwhelming strength.

Four of the top ten Brotherhoods in the entire system belong to them, giving the Bishops power that rivals even the House above.

When they entered, the stadium’s mood shifted. The Knights and Pawns immediately bowed. It wasn’t courtesy, it was law. The Brotherhood code demanded respect for rank, and no one dared defy it.

Max’s eyes narrowed. They didn’t wave, didn’t even acknowledge the students. To him, it felt less like dignity and more like arrogance.

The crowd roared louder than ever, and Max could sense why…

Only one House remained.

“Before we proceed,” Coleman shouted over the noise, “let us once again welcome our wonderful president, Ian Rothman!”

The cheers peaked as Ian jogged back onstage, waving brightly. But when he turned to face the Brotherhood leaders, his smile hardened. The noise fell into silence. Coleman handed him the microphone and stepped aside. Ian waited until the stillness was absolute before speaking.

“As the Elites’ president, I warmly welcome you all to our castle. Please, give our guests a round of applause.”

White Uniforms clapped on cue. Some Brotherhood leaders gave the barest nods. Then Ian stepped closer to the edge of the stage, his voice steady, commanding. “Last year brought many trials. Some transferred. Some were expelled. Some graduated and left their legacies behind. But today marks the start of a new year. And one thing is certain…”

He thrust the microphone toward the crowd.

“We shall conquer!” the White Uniforms roared back in unison.

Ian smiled, sharp and unyielding. “Without further ado, let us welcome…the House of Kings!”

|END|

THE ELITES

J.S. HIGH STUDENT COUNCIL 

(SY 2023-2024)

BASE: The Keep. 5th floor, Student Council Office

DESCRIPTION:  The Elites consist of the 5 highest-ranked students of J.S. High. They wear two brooches on their collar. One is the Elites’ logo, and the other is the Roman numeral that corresponds to their rank.

Their role is to make sure that the students uphold the great name of the House of Kings. And aside from the brotherhoods, they are the representatives and the face of J.S. High.

MOTTO:  “ What happens in the castle, stays in the castle. “

ELITES PRESIDENT:

Name:  Ian Rothman

Rank: 1 (Gaffer)

Current MP: 12,000+

 The Elites president is the highest-ranking student who has the role of handling and disciplining the brotherhoods. He makes sure that the brotherhoods follow their rules accordingly, which is why he has the power to suspend and deliberate on them. But this is his only role, as he is not allowed to intervene with the activities of the White Uniforms.

Class: IV-A

Club: Broadcasting Club (Club Advisor)

Birthdate:  August 8, 2004

Age: 19 y/o

ELITES VICE PRESIDENT:

Name: Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev

Rank: 2 (Gaffer)

Current MP: 8400+

The Elites’ vice president is the second most respected white uniform in their house, as he has the role of handling and disciplining them. The vice has the power to suspend and deliberate on the white uniforms that do not follow their rules. But similar to the president, he cannot intervene in the activities of the brotherhoods.

Class: Class II-A

Club: Newspaper Club (Club Advisor)

Birthdate: September 13, 2005

Age: 18 y/o

ELITES SECRETARY:

Name: Richard Young

Rank: 3   (Gaffer)

Current MP: 7800+

The Elites secretary has one of the most important roles in the student council as he contributes to the modification and the creation of both the White Uniform and Brotherhood Rules. He has the power to change and add rules with the approval of President Janus Sinclaire.

Class: Class IV-A

Club: Business Leaders Club (Club Leader)

Birthdate: December 27, 2005

Age: 18 y/o

ELITES TREASURER:

Name: Dustin Griffiths 

Rank: 4   (Gaffer)

Current MP: 6200+

The Elites treasurer handles the internal funds of J.S. High. He has the role of collecting the funds from both the white uniforms and the brotherhoods. He also holds the budget for all clubs and the events that must take place in their house.

Class: Class III-A

Club: Debate Club (Club Leader)

Birthdate: March 25, 2006

Age: 18 y/o

ELITES SCHOOL REPRESENTATIVE:

Name: Justin Griffiths

Rank: 5   (Gaffer)

Current MP: 6200+

The Elites school rep. has the busiest role as he is responsible for handling the activities outside of J.S. High. All the external affairs are brought to him and approved by him, and when the Elites must visit the other Houses, the school representative must take charge. He also has the role of cleaning up and destroying every piece of information that might have leaked from their house.

Class: Class III-A

Club: Cooking Club (Club Leader)

Birthdate: March 25, 2006

Age: 18 y/o

There is a Monthly Ranking Announcement that takes place in the Great Hall. During this announcement, the students will see their updated rank and standing. 

The full list of ranks will be flashed on the screens during their lunch break, while the leader of the Kings will announce the top 10 highest-ranking students.

The Elites consist of the Top 5 highest-ranking students, but the students who are ranked 6-10 are already trained for the positions of the Elites, as they have the highest chances of replacing the members. If they surpass the ranks of any existing member of the Elites, they must immediately take their place and assume the role that is equivalent to their new rank.

06 | We Shall Conquer

♟

TRUMPET SOUNDS WERE HEARD , and the students cheered so loud their vocal cords could break. The lights turned off, and a spotlight was directed toward the main entrance of the stadium. No one even noticed how the red carpet in the middle got there. 

Soon after, a banner fell, and everyone couldn’t contain their excitement anymore. Some were even standing in their seats. Max, Ari, and Felix were forced to do the same so they could see what was happening.

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The House of Kings (J.S. High) is known as the Kings’ Castle. The top six brotherhoods reside in this House, and out of all of them, the Kings are the most respected and most feared, since they have the power to rule over the other Houses. But beyond the brotherhoods, the House also takes pride in the White Uniforms. J.S. High has the most outstanding heirs in the world. They are definitely a House to be reckoned with.

Before the brotherhoods started appearing, Vice President Gavriil Alexeev rejoined Ian on the stage. A White Uniform ran to his side to hand him a microphone.

“Good day, everyone. I am Gavriil Alexeev, the Elites’ vice president. I know everyone is excited about this assembly, so let me remind you that this is the moment where you have to catch the brotherhood’s attention. This is the best opportunity to become their underlings,” the vice president announced, making the freshmen even more pumped up.

The higher years began stomping their feet. It was a welcoming ceremony for the first year.

“Underlings are given personal invitations by the brotherhoods. But students are still allowed to apply for their chosen brotherhood. They only have to go through an initiation,” Ian explained, and Gavriil nodded in agreement.

“So, fellow White Uniforms, watch your upperclassmen closely and decide which brotherhood best suits you. Thank you,” Gavriil added before leaving Ian on stage again.

When Ian was once again alone on the stage, the host, Mr. Coleman, rejoined him. Ian handed the microphone back and patted his back before following Gavriil to join the Elites.

“The time has finally come. But before we begin, please take your seats. I repeat, please go back to your seats, everyone.”

The crowd was too hyped to listen. Ian didn’t interfere, but Gavriil walked to the center of the stadium with no hesitation. The brotherhoods already sitting there turned their eyes toward him, but Gavriil wasn’t intimidated.

He stood out, surrounded by black uniforms. As the students noticed him, the noise quieted until nothing else was heard. Gavriil raised the microphone to his mouth and asked, “Our brotherhoods are about to enter. Is this how you show your respect to them?”

No one answered, so he scanned the bleachers and continued, “Let the MC speak, and cheer for your brotherhood when they enter. This is an assembly, not a brothel.”

He said nothing else as he returned to the Elites. Mr. Coleman gave an awkward laugh, cleared his throat, and said, “Thank you, Vice President. But let’s not be discouraged. Let’s keep the heat up, shall we?”

Thanks to Gavriil’s words, the students hesitated. The energy had dropped, and Mr. Coleman needed to bring it back up.

Ari chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously. The vice president really knows how to ruin a party.”

“I think he’s trying to prevent them from getting hurt instead,” Max said, making Felix and Ari glance at him. “I mean, everyone was already standing on the bleachers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started pushing each other. It could’ve been too dangerous.” 

The two finally understood what he meant.

“Alright, I think we need to feel the excitement again. Do you guys want to be entertained?” Mr. Coleman asked. The brotherhoods cheered first, followed by the hesitant White Uniforms.

To salvage the mood, Mr. Coleman called for entertainment: J.S. High’s very own band, the Monarchs. The Monarchs were well known even outside the campus. Their frontman, Axel Dumont , a third-year from Class A, was a master at hyping up the crowd. Even after Gavriil’s stern words, the assembly turned into a concert. The students loosened up again, and after two original songs, the atmosphere returned to normal.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Thank you, Monarchs!” Mr. Coleman said as the band left the stage. “I guess we’ve kept them waiting too long. Let us officially begin!”

Right on cue, a huge banner fell on the stage. It bore the face of a jester.

Ervin Walker, the boy who had argued with Max and Ari earlier in class, suddenly stood up, along with at least a hundred other students scattered around the stadium. Max realized their brooches matched the logo on the banner.

“Let us all show our respect to Rank Six brotherhood, the Barons, JOKERS !” Mr. Coleman announced, and the stadium roared. 

The standing students mimicked sirens as six men in black uniforms entered. They made a ruckus as they marched in with air horns blaring and spray cans spewing colorful streamers. Each wore a clown mask. Max felt like he was watching a circus act.

Their uniforms were slightly different from the other Houses’ leaders. They still wore black, but without peaked caps. Each had leather gloves like Marcus and Adachi Ren. The clown masks gave them a playful yet menacing look. Only the man in the middle was unmasked, the infamous leader, Krist Hyusen , better known as Master Joker .

“That guy is one of the most awful people in this House, “ Felix whispered to Max, making sure the underlings behind them wouldn’t hear.

“Then I’m not surprised Ervin Walker decided to join them,” Max replied loudly, unbothered by whether anyone overheard.

The six Jokers wore jester brooches. Krist’s other collar bore a joker-like crown, connected with a silver chain, clearly marking him as the leader.

The Jokers were the lowest-ranked in the House of Kings, but Rank Six still commanded respect. As they approached the other Houses’ leaders, some stood to greet them.

Krist smirked at those who didn’t. And when he and his brotherhood were about to reach their seats, Krist deliberately stepped on the foot of the Rank Seven leader, Checkmate. The leader cursed and glared, but held back. This wasn’t his House. Starting something here would only end badly for him.

“Next, let’s give it up for Rank Five brotherhood, the Counts, CIGARETTES !”

When the brotherhood called Jokers got settled in, their underlings sat down as well, and a new set of underlings stood up to show their respect to the counts.

While the other students were waiting, four White Uniforms suddenly walked toward the entrance. They were tough-looking, their mouths covered with black leather masks. If not for their uniforms, you’d think they were a Brotherhood, too.

“Those guys are called Ashes. They’re Cigarettes’ four strongest underlings. They’re also rumored to replace the seniors as soon as they graduate,” Ari explained.

Max jotted everything down in his notebook. At this rate, he was sure it would be filled before the assembly ended.

The four students called Ashes saluted, and then seven black-uniformed students entered one by one. Each looked confident, but the one in the middle stood out. His smile and wave seemed friendly, but the fakeness was so obvious it had to be intentional.

Charles Justin Mills , CJ for short, was the leader of Cigarettes. His family owned the largest tobacco company in the world, hence the name. Other than being cocky, CJ was also the most unsympathetic leader among them all. It might have been the way he was raised.

Like Krist Hyusen, CJ wore brooches. One collar had his brotherhood’s logo, the other a spiky crown.

When CJ and his brotherhood arrived at their seats, most of the others stood to greet them, but not the Jokers. CJ chuckled and ignored the clowns. But when he was inches away from their seats, Krist stretched out his leg, tripping CJ.

The crowd gasped.

The Ashes almost ran toward him, but the members caught their leader first. One count tried to help him stand straight, but CJ shoved him off, laughing it away before glaring at Master Joker.

“Were you having leg cramps? Did you have to stretch your leg right when I was passing by?” CJ asked with a fake smile.

Krist didn’t even look at him. He just started stretching his other leg. The Jokers struggled not to laugh at their leader’s act. CJ laughed too, then suddenly stopped, grabbing Krist by the collar and yanking him upright.

The Jokers stood immediately, but Krist stopped them with a gesture.

CJ stared into his eyes. “You think that was funny?”

Krist smirked. “It was hilarious.”

The stadium went silent. Some thought Krist had lost his mind, challenging a higher-ranked leader. But when he laughed, CJ joined him. The two quickly hugged each other, leaving everyone staring at their strange friendship.

The freshmen were confused. The upperclassmen just rolled their eyes.

“They always do this,” Ari explained to Max. “They pretend to fight for attention, then laugh it off.”

“So they’re friends?” Max wondered.

“Heard they’ve been close since their first year here,” Ari said, “but I’m not exactly sure. They’re pretty on and off. One day they’re trying to kill each other, and the next they’re acting like lovers.”

Everyone settled down as the next brotherhood was announced.

“Up next, Rank Four brotherhood, the Marquis, CRAZY 8 !”

The Cigarettes and their underlings went to their seats. Max expected students to stand for Crazy 8, too, like with the Jokers and Cigarettes, but no one did. The stadium fell silent instead as eight masked men entered, just seconds before their banner was revealed.

The vibe was different. It was obvious why they ranked higher, but unlike Krist, every one of them wore masks. Their brooches bore their logo, and each wore a waist-length cape that set them apart.

The one in the middle drew the most attention. With a model-like figure, he carried a cane that matched their uniform. His brooch bore their logo, with a small crown on the other collar. Even the Jokers looked uneasy as Crazy 8 entered.

“No one knows who the members of Crazy 8 are,” Felix whispered.

“They never removed their masks?” Max asked without looking at him.

Ari, engrossed, answered instead. “Never. Jokers wear theirs only during battles, but Crazy 8 wears them all the time. Usually, you won’t even see them on campus. They’ve got special classes, so glimpses are rare. That’s why they don’t have underlings either. But if you had to put them in a category, they’re the classiest brotherhood here…next to BND.”

Max turned to Felix. “BND?”

Before either could answer, a familiar banner dropped, and the announcer shouted toward another entrance: “Rank Three brotherhood, the Dukes, BOYS NEXT DOOR !”

The crowd erupted. The stadium felt like it might collapse under the noise.

Seven equally handsome men appeared, all smiles. It was like watching a pageant with their international looks. 

Like Crazy 8, they wore capes, adding to their charm. They waved like guest performers, not students. Among them was Max’s brother, Marcus Thompson. He smiled and waved as if he hadn’t just fought with Max earlier. Now, Max understood why others feared him. He wasn’t just popular, but his brotherhood ranked high.

“BND only has about fifteen underlings, and most are in higher years,” Ari explained, sneaking a glance at Max. “They keep it small because underlings abuse their status, so the process of choosing one is extensive. They’re like idols here, so they’re well-liked.”

Ari knew he fucked up earlier. He’d just slipped, mentioning that Marcus was Max’s brother. He knew he’d revealed it too early. He worried Max would press him, but thankfully, Max didn’t.

Instead, Max stared at his brother, unable to believe they’d fought. But soon his eyes were drawn to another figure. The one with the lock-and-crown brooch.

“Wait, isn’t that Hans De Vries ? The fourth son of the De Vries household? He’s already expected to inherit Royal De Vries Oil & Gas instead of his older siblings, right?” Max asked.

Felix, who knew many heirs, nodded. “That’s right. Just like you, news about Hans spread when he enrolled.”

“Well, he is Crème de la Crème. What would you expect?” Ari added.

The De Vries family was almost as powerful as Max’s. Maybe this was the heir his uncle had mentioned.

“Hans is also the brains of the group,” Felix said. “Don’t be fooled by their looks. Their tactics and strategies are top-notch, thanks to him.”

“Tactics and strategies? For what exactly?” Max asked. But before either could reply, the crowd screamed. Hans had approached Crazy 8’s leader.

Instead of fighting, Hans took the leader’s hand and kissed it.

“Finally, someone with class. It’s good to see you again, Siren,” Hans greeted.

Crazy 8’s leader, apparently named Siren , curtsied silently.

It might have been harmless until Krist shoved in between them. “What kind of gay shit is this? Right in front of the other brotherhoods? What a joke. And you call yourselves Dukes,” he sneered.

The White Uniforms in the bleachers didn’t catch the words, but the surrounding brotherhoods did. Unlike CJ’s act earlier, this was real.

BND’s members wanted to intervene, but Hans stopped them. He faced Krist himself.

They stared each other down, both trying to dominate, but it was clear who held the upper hand. Hans didn’t even try hard. He just smiled, owning his rank.

“I apologize, Krist. I didn’t greet you properly. Should I kiss your hand too?” Hans paused, moving closer. He raised his hand toward Krist’s chin. From afar, it looked like he touched him, but he left a few inches of space.

“Or should I kiss you somewhere else?” Hans finished.

Krist shoved him away.

Hans smirked, then led his group to their seats in victory.

Just then, trumpet sounds blared unexpectedly. The stadium fell silent. Not a single cheer rose. Max’s curiosity burned.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to Ari and Felix.

“No time to explain. Just bow when they arrive, got it?” Ari answered.

Max frowned. He’d never bowed to anyone except actual royalty. He wasn’t about to lower himself for someone he didn’t even know.

“Unless it’s the King of England, I’m not bowing,” Max muttered. Ari sighed, knowing he couldn’t change his mind.

The trumpets ended, and a banner dropped on the stage. It bore a crowned phoenix. The crowd tensed. Everyone rose—the White Uniforms in the bleachers, the brotherhoods in the stadium, even the Elites. Max had no choice but to follow.

The stadium had three double doors. Until now, only the middle had been used. For the first time, the left door opened.

“All rise and give respect to the Royals,” Mr. Coleman instructed, though everyone was already on their feet.

Max didn’t know what to expect, but a chill ran through him. Somehow, he realized that refusing to bow now could make his future far more difficult.

|END|

07 | The Royals

♟

EVERYONE WAS DEAD SILENT as they waited for the Royals to arrive. Max didn’t know yet, but the Royals consisted of the top two brotherhoods among all the houses: the princes and the kings themselves. These two brotherhoods made this house the strongest of them all.

A banner fell beside the Royals’ banner. It was a golden shield with a crown, a symbol that set them apart from the other brotherhoods.

“Let us welcome and give our respect to the princes, DANGEROUS FIVE ,” Mr. Coleman announced, and five men stepped inside the stadium, their presence alone making some of the students shiver with fear.

Max thought it was time to bow, just as Ari had instructed him earlier, but no one bowed yet. That confused him even more.

The five students known as Dangerous Five were best known outside as the Wang family. All five came from the same bloodline, which made their bond stronger than any of the other brotherhoods. They wore the same uniforms as Crazy 8 and BND, while their brooches bore their brotherhood logo and a gun.

Max was trying to figure out who the leader was, but before he could ask Ari, Mr. Coleman spoke again: “The princes, PRETTY DUO .”

Max tilted his head to the side as two more students entered. This time through the right door.

“There’s more of them?” he muttered, watching the pair approach the five who were already waiting at the end of the red carpet. They hadn’t moved to join the other brotherhoods yet, which only meant they were waiting for more to arrive.

“How many are—” Max stopped mid-sentence when he recognized one of the newcomers. “Oh.” His lips twisted into a frown as he watched Adachi Ren wave to the crowd with a charming yet seductive smile.

Ren was the senior whom Max had encountered earlier at the Keep. At that time, the students seemed terrified of him, even calling him “prince.” Now, Max understood why.

Pretty Duo was the complete opposite of Dangerous Five. While Dangerous Five looked serious and quiet, the kind who could make a baby cry just by standing near them, Pretty Duo appeared approachable, though in a dangerously seductive way. They were the type to charm you, ask for your number, screw you, and dump you right after. They were opposites, yet there was something about them that felt similar. Maybe that was why their gun and rose brooches fit together so well.

“When I met Ren Adachi earlier, he said he was part of PHD. So that means there’s another one, right? A group that starts with the letter H .” Max concluded. Both Felix and Ari looked at him in shock. Max had just revealed he’d casually met Ren, one of the princes, like it was nothing.

“PHD consists of three subunits, which are Dangerous Five, Pretty Duo, and—”

Before Felix could finish, Mr. Coleman announced for him: “The princes, HOT WINGMEN .”

Another duo entered, this time through the middle door. Like Pretty Duo, they were a pair, but their presence was completely different. It was impossible to confuse them with Pretty Duo. 

If Dangerous Five was serious and Pretty Duo was charming, Hot Wingmen were spine-chilling. Their gaze alone separated them from the rest.

The wingmen joined the others.

The three subunits wore the same brooch of their main logo on the left collar, while their right collars displayed their subunit symbols: rose, flame, and gun. Together, they formed the brotherhood Pretty, Hot, and Dangerous, also known as the fearsome princes of the House of Kings.

“You see those two wingmen? The guy on the left…that’s Killshot . The one with his arm slung around his shoulder is Blade . They’re the leader’s most trusted men,” Ari explained.

“And the leader must be?” Max asked. Ari pointed toward the middle door. The lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the entrance. The three PHD subunits formed two horizontal lines, preparing to welcome whoever was about to arrive.

“Let us bow down and give our respect to the leader of rank two brotherhood, PRETTY HOT AND DANGEROUS , Prince Kim Hee-joon ,” Mr. Coleman announced.

The members of PHD bowed first, followed by the white uniforms, then the leaders of the lower Houses. The only ones who did not bow were the brotherhoods of the House of Kings.

Leader Kim Hee-joon entered with a blank, bored expression. He ignored the bows around him. His brotherhood stepped aside to make way, and when he walked down the red carpet, the rest of PHD followed behind.

Max quickly checked the large LED screens for a better view. Ari and Felix noticed his look. Felix chuckled. “What? Did you meet him, too?”

Max didn’t look at either of them. Instead, he pointed at his tire-stained peaked cap. “He almost hit me with his car.”

Ari and Felix’s eyes widened, not because Max had nearly been run over, but because he had casually revealed, once again, that he’d met a member of PHD. And not just any member, but the leader himself.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ari wondered in annoyance.

Kim Hee-joon was the expressionless leader of the second-highest-ranked brotherhood. His perpetually bored look gave the impression that he wouldn’t feel guilty if he killed someone.

His rank was clear in his aura, but also in his brooches. His left collar bore the PHD logo, his right carried the Royals’ symbol, and unlike the other leaders who wore silver chains, his was gold. His entire appearance set him apart from everyone else.

When the rest of PHD took their seats among the other brotherhoods, Hee-joon walked straight to the stage, where two thrones were already waiting.

“S-Sinclaire…why aren’t you bowing?” Felix whispered, his voice low so no one else would hear.

Max hadn’t even realized he was the only white uniform still standing until Felix pointed it out. He was too intrigued to notice.

By now, Max understood the system of this school. Not bowing would be foolish, but bowing would be a blow to his pride. He knew who Kim Hee-joon was after hearing the name. He was the son of the CEO of SK Holdings. Max wasn’t about to bow to someone like that. So instead of the expected 45-degree bow, he dipped his head just slightly, hoping it would pass for respect.

“All rise and give respect to the kings, BUSTERS .”

The last announcement came as soon as Hee-joon sat on his throne. The main entrance opened, and the entire stadium went still. Everyone held their breath, the fear of making a sound thick in the air.

“Here we go,” Max thought as the final banner fell beside the Royals’ banner. “Here are the kings of this fucked-up school my uncle built.”

Eight boys entered the stadium. The moment they appeared, the atmosphere shifted again. The tension, already high, climbed higher. They didn’t wear capes or masks. Their black uniforms were plain, adorned only with two brooches: their brotherhood logo on the left and a king’s crown on the right. But even in their simplicity, they looked flashy.

“They’re the only brotherhood whose members are all senior students,” Ari explained.

Max knew the leader wasn’t among them, just like Hee-joon had entered last. But unlike PHD, the Busters’ members went straight to their seats before their leader arrived.

“Now, let us bow down and give our respect to the leader of rank one brotherhood, the King, Viktor Alekovich Stepanov.”

Max froze.

He thought he heard it wrong, but after a while, his eyes widened in shock, his heart nearly stopping at the mention of the name.

Viktor Alekovich Stepanov.

Viktor Alekovich Stepanov.

He repeated it over and over just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. But when the boy named Viktor Stepanov entered the stadium, Max’s doubts vanished instantly. His eyes were the same pale grey—almost white—as his siblings’ and father’s. For a moment, Max thought he was seeing a ghost. Because this Viktor…

…was supposed to be dead, just like the rest of his entire family.

“T-This can’t be…”

The Stepanovs had practically ruled the upper class. They were one of the richest families in the country, perhaps even the world. Their influence towered above even the Sinclaire family’s until someone wiped out their entire clan seven years ago. No one knew exactly what had happened, only that bombs had been planted throughout their estate during their anniversary celebration. No one had suspected a thing.

Their name and corporation vanished after that night. Max never expected to see a Stepanov again, least of all here. How had no one mentioned this? Why had his identity been hidden until now?

“Surprised?” Ari whispered, his eyes following Viktor as he walked toward the stage where Kim Hee-joon sat.

“H-He’s supposed to be—”

“Dead,” Felix finished.

Both boys stayed bowed like the rest of the students, but Ari still managed to explain. “Viktor Stepanov is the last survivor of his clan. His identity has been kept secret until they find the culprit who killed his family. J.S. High swore no information would leak for his protection.”

Max couldn’t believe it. The media would lose their minds if they knew. The fact that no one had spoken, that even the students kept silent, was unbelievable. Janus Sinclaire must have had a hand in it. Or perhaps people had tried to speak…and disappeared for it.

Everyone, even the brotherhoods of the House of Kings, bowed as Viktor joined Hee-joon on stage. Unlike his prince, Viktor was smiling, though it was more sadistic than warm. If Kim Hee-joon looked like someone who wouldn’t feel guilty killing by accident, Viktor looked like someone who would kill on purpose—and laugh about it.

His intimidation was on another level, whether from the long cape trailing behind him or the weight of his tragic past.

For a moment, he scanned the crowd with a relaxed expression, then suddenly grinned. He snapped his fingers, and a student rushed to hand him a microphone. Viktor held it to his lips, silent at first, as if taunting the audience.

“Welcome to the House of Kings,” he finally said, his voice echoing through the hushed stadium. “I, the king of the brotherhoods, am honored to personally greet you.” He spoke to no one in particular, leaving the students puzzled.

“I truly hope you enjoy your stay here in my castle.”

He returned the microphone and took his seat on the throne. Everyone rose from their bows, and the stadium immediately filled with noise again. Everyone was desperate to know who the king had been addressing.

“Max,” Ari hissed. He and Felix stared at him with wide eyes.

Max had gone pale. He couldn’t speak.

The students didn’t know who Viktor had spoken to, but Ari and Felix knew. His gaze had been locked in their direction the entire time. And it wasn’t them he was looking at. It was unmistakably Maximilian Sinclaire.

“Let us call on the Glee Club, headed by Mr. Ryan Fros t, to sing J.S. High’s school anthem,” Mr. Coleman said, and fifteen students filed onto the stage with their adviser. When everyone was ready, music swelled, and the crowd joined in:

J.S. High Anthem

Together we rise

Together we fall

Together we climb the ladder

to cross the kingdom’s wall

The home of the kings

The rulers of the houses

We are the great J.S. High…

…who will break what was once divided

“Let’s give a round of applause to our white uniforms, and of course, these outstanding brotherhoods!” Mr. Coleman announced, trying to lift the mood back to normal.

The white uniforms cheered while the brotherhoods waved to the crowd. Max sat in awe. He couldn’t believe such a system existed in a school as prestigious as J.S. High, or any of the Houses. 

Questions swarmed in his head, but one echoed louder than the rest: How? How had his uncle, President Janus Sinclaire, built such a dangerous, complex system without the world knowing?

“To continue with the oath-taking, let’s finally give a warm welcome to the president of the Brotherhood Association and president of J.S. High, Sir Janus Sinclaire,” Mr. Coleman announced. Instead of shouting, the students applauded as Janus entered in a purple checkered suit.

Max watched his uncle jog toward the stage with a bright smile. The same bubbly personality he showed the family was now on full display. Max had expected him to be stern, presidential, yet here he was, casual and approachable.

Janus greeted the brotherhoods that bowed to him, and when he reached the stage, both Joon and Viktor stood to bow as well. The gesture shocked Max. He thought the two would keep their aloof, untouchable airs throughout the ceremony. By now, he should’ve realized that everyone here would continue to surprise him no matter how much he studied them.

“Good morning, my dear students,” Janus said, standing behind the podium and adjusting the microphone. “I don’t want to bore anyone, so shall we begin with the oaths?”

Ian Rothman joined the school president on stage and handed him a folder. Janus thanked him, opened the folder, and began, “Everyone, please raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

The entire stadium complied; white uniforms and brotherhoods alike.

Max raised his hand as well. Looking around, he noticed the cameras scattered across the stadium. They weren’t broadcasting to the public, which meant the footage was going straight to the other Houses.

“The Oath of Secrecy. I, state your name, do solemnly swear that I will keep all activities, events, and affairs that occur inside my house an untold story for those who do not share this oath. My mouth is sealed for the security of my fellow brothers, our beloved faculty, and our noble house.”

Everyone repeated the words with their hands raised.

Max thought it was over, but Janus flipped to another page.

“Now, the Oath of Renewal. I, state your name, will gain respect and power from my fellow schoolmates through my skills and hard work. My outside identity will be stripped away, and my success will be based on my achievements inside my house. I swear to abide by the rules and traditions of our great house, following in the ways of those who came before us.”

Everyone lowered their hands after. 

Janus clapped first, and the students followed.

Janus slipped a hand in his pocket, smiling at the crowd. He wasn’t trying to look powerful. He was trying to look laid-back, someone they could rely on. Yet their respect for him was clear. It was proof that his easygoing nature wasn’t a weakness but something deeper.

“As president of the Brotherhood Association, I welcome each of you to our House. I’m not a chatty man, and I dislike long speeches, so let me end this short one by reciting the mission of our Association. We rebuild the boys of this generation into men of honor and pride… “ He paused, gesturing at the students.

“ Through the brotherhood that they are in! “ they roared back.

Janus smiled, nodding in approval. “Thank you, everyone. Enjoy the rest of the day.”

He bowed and exited the stage.

Mr. Coleman jogged forward, trying to energize the crowd again. But before he could speak, a banner dropped from the ceiling, and loud sirens blared through the campus. Max froze, uncertain what it meant…until the students erupted.

A falling banner could only mean one thing.

“The kings have declared war!”

|END|

THE HOUSE OF KINGS

SCHOOL: J.S. High

PRESIDENT: Janus Sinclaire, president of B.A

J.S. High, or better known as the House of Kings , holds the top 6 brotherhoods among all the Brotherhood Houses, making them the strongest house. But other than the brotherhoods, J.S. High is also the home of the most outstanding students around the globe. This gave them the title of one of the most prestigious schools for heirs.

STUDENT COUNCIL: Elites

MOTTO: “We shall conquer.”

J.S.High Anthem

Together we rise

Together we fall

Together we climb the ladder

to cross the kingdom’s wall

The home of the kings

The rulers of the houses

We are the great J.S. High…

…who will break what was once divided

WHITE UNIFORMS: Compared to the students of other houses, White Uniforms of J.S. High are of higher standards. There are specific lists of requirements if one wants to join the school, which is why J.S. High only sends personal invitations. Those who have not received an invitation may enroll in the lower houses.

As for their uniforms, the students of J.S. High are the only white uniforms with peake caps compared to other houses. They also use armbands to identify their ranks.

BROTHERHOODS: These are students who are of higher standing. They are the face of their house and the foundation of their school. Their image represents the overall image of J.S. High.

JOKERS

RANK: 6

TITLE: Barons

LEADER: Krist Hyusen ( Master Joker)

MOTTO:

None

CIGARETTES

RANK: 5

TITLE: Counts

LEADER:  Charles Justin Mills (CJ)

MOTTO:  “ You cannot use a Cigarette without a Lighter. “

CRAZY 8

RANK: 4

TITLE: Marquis

LEADER: Siren

MOTTO: 

“What is hidden cannot be touched.”

BND (Boys Next Door)

RANK: 3

TITLE: Dukes

LEADER: Hans de Vries

MOTTO:

“

Those who cannot stand the thorns do not deserve to pick the roses.“

THE ROYALS

PHD ( PRETTY duo, HOT wingmen, DANGEROUS five)

RANK: 2

TITLE: Princes

LEADER: Kim Hee-joon

MOTTO:

“

The strong protect the weak.“

BUSTERS

RANK: 1

TITLE: Kings

LEADER:  Victor Alekovich Stepanov

MOTTO:  “ Those who follow the will of the kings shall walk the path of never-ending victories.“

08 | The Battle of Brotherhoods

♟

THE STUDENTS WENT WILD as they stared at the fallen banner on the floor. Max couldn’t grasp the situation, but for students of the House of Kings, a fallen banner meant one thing: a Brotherhood Battle.

A Brotherhood Battle had begun as a practice among elite prisoners. It was similar to a prison riot, only far more organized. A brotherhood could challenge another that was higher in rank. Originally, the goal was to force the opponent to surrender, but the quicker path to victory was to kill the opposing leader. That rule had since been changed to fit the Houses’ system.

To start a Brotherhood Battle, a brotherhood had to pull down the banner of its chosen opponent. Sirens blare across campus to signal that a battle has been declared. A brotherhood could decline the challenge, but it had never happened. Refusing was seen as worse than losing.

Mechanics:

The goal was simple: each brotherhood had a base and a flag. The first to plant its flag on the enemy’s base wins. This has to be done within

twelve minutes

. If neither side succeeds within twelve minutes, the battle is declared a
draw . 

If all members of a brotherhood are down and unable to continue, a ten-second countdown will begin. If they do not respond within that time, the other team wins automatically. 

A brotherhood can forfeit. If the challenger forfeits, the challenged wins, and vice versa. 

The challenger has to adjust its roster to the opponent’s size when challenging a lower-ranked brotherhood. Example: if the challenged has five members and the challenger has seven, the challenger has to remove two members to make the teams equal. 

When challenging a higher-ranked brotherhood, the challenger can fill up to three more members than the opponent. Example: if the challenged has five and the challenger has ten, the challenger canfight with eight.

To reduce violence from the original practice, the Association has established safety rules.

Weapons:

Weapons are permitted with restrictions. Knives are allowed, but a student cannot stab more than two inches deep. Certain body parts are prohibited targets. Violations can result in expulsion. 

Guns are allowed up to 9 mm caliber (0.356 inches) in bullet diameter. As with knives, certain areas were prohibited targets. Students have to obtain an official school permit for firearms or any long-range weapons. The permit certified accuracy; students below 87% accuracy could not use long-range weapons. 

Even with permits, bulletproof vests are mandatory, though the whole uniform itself is already bulletproof.

Other permitted weapons include baseball bats, smoke bombs (and other low-yield devices), nunchucks, hand claps, and low-voltage tasers, among others. 

Janus clarified that weapons are only for support. Physical ability and overall strategy mattered most.

Recovery Time:

After a Brotherhood Battle, both brotherhoods have a

one-week recovery period

during which they cannot challenge or be challenged. Afterward, they are inspected at the clinic (fully equipped for anything from minor injuries to major surgery). If cleared, they can battle again. If not, recovery isextended.

“You got that down?” Ari asked as he and Felix watched Max scribble in his notebook.

All around them, students chanted the names of different brotherhoods from the House of Kings. Busters had pulled down their banner to declare the battle. The next banner to fall would reveal their chosen opponent.

“Battle with BND!” someone shouted from behind, making Max flinch. His brother was in that brotherhood. He didn’t want to watch Marcus fight on his first day.

“How did they allow something this dangerous?” Max asked.

Felix and Ari stared at him like he’d missed the obvious.

“You act like you’re not from a rich family,” Ari said dryly. “People like you could watch people die if you wanted. Power and money open doors that others can’t imagine. And kids like us, dropped in a den like this, get an even better rush. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“And besides, we signed a waiver,” Felix added with a shrug.

“For the first battle of the year, the brotherhood the Kings have challenged is…” Mr. Coleman boomed. The crowd stomped in anticipation. Another banner dropped. “Jokers!”

The stadium erupted, and Krist Hyusen and his brothers jumped to their feet, grinning.

“Is this a joke? They challenged the lowest-ranking brotherhood here. It’s a sure win,” Max said. Felix and Ari only shrugged.

If Viktor wanted to showcase strength, he could have chosen a higher rank. Challenging Jokers bordered on insult. It was obvious Viktor wasn’t doing this to test himself, or even to brag. This was for spectacle, especially with leaders from the other Houses watching.

“To the brotherhoods who aren’t challenged, please clear the grounds,” Mr. Coleman instructed.

Brotherhoods filed out to the bleachers while PHD joined their unimpressed leader, who lounged on his throne, yawning.

White uniforms sprinted to the center, stacked plastic chairs, and rolled up the red carpet. When the floor was clear, the entire middle section split open, drawing gasps from Max and the other freshmen. 

Everyone else was eager for a reveal until another floor rose into place. The students watched in amazement as a clear-glass maze with two separate bases and flag stands emerged from the grounds. The large LED screens switched from the House crest to live feeds of the arena so everyone could follow the action.

“I won’t lie, that’s impressive,” Max said as white uniforms inspected the grounds.

“That’s called the Battle Grounds,” Ari explained. “Each ground is designed by the brotherhood that pulled the flag. They can create three different grounds per school year. They submit the skeletal blueprint so other brotherhoods can study it, but no one knows who designed which ground, or the hidden functions, so the advantage stays with the designers.”

Felix nodded. “Last year, Busters challenged BND, and the ground was completely empty. They still won.”

“It’s all strategy,” Ari added. “How you fight, the grounds you design, the weapons you choose—everything factors into whether you win. Brains are just as important as brawn.”

While the white uniforms finished their checks, Jokers and Busters headed to the armory to select weapons. Another team of white uniforms inspected each piece and verified permits. Bulletproof vests were mandatory.

The two brotherhoods huddled, fine-tuning plans while the arena was readied. Leaders from the visiting Houses buzzed with anticipation. They were about to watch the Kings fight. Whether Busters had chosen BND or Jokers, Jokers were still aspirational to the lower Houses. Rank six in the House of Kings was no joke.

“Good morning, students. Before we begin the battle, the Elites will be going around to collect your bets. Elites, let the betting begin,” a cheerful voice boomed as Elite members appeared with tablets and card scanners.

Max didn’t need to ask. He flipped open his notebook. Ari and Felix were already ready to explain.

“Seriously, you should’ve gone to the freshman seminar,” Ari muttered, and then launched into the Betting System.

Betting System:

Because of the MP (Merit Points) System, students could now bet actual money on their chosen brotherhood during a Brotherhood Battle using their student card. If they bet on the winning team, they received a certain amount of points according to the winner’s rank.

The number of points differed depending on the winning probability of the brotherhoods. But regardless of the results, all the money from the bets will be given to the brotherhoods that participated in the battle. This is because the money they receive in battle is the only money they are allowed to use for their brotherhood’s resources.

The brotherhood with the highest bets also had a

ten-second advantage

during their battle.

“So, betting on a brotherhood that’s ranked high has a higher chance of winning, but the points you get are low. And if that brotherhood loses, you lose an insane amount of points,” Max summarized as he closed his notebook.

“It’s better to gain fifty points than lose fifty points. Especially when you’re a freshman,” Felix told him honestly, and Max couldn’t help but agree.

Members of the Elites approached the students to get their bets, and the officer who went to Max and his class was one of the Griffiths twins, Justin, who was ranked fifth. Justin was a school representative, and compared to his twin brother, who was always serious, Justin had a cheerful personality, so you’d know who was who without even looking at their brooches.

“Mr. Sinclaire! It’s an honor to meet you!” Justin greeted as he approached Max and his newfound friends. “Would you like to place your bets?” he immediately asked with a smile when he realized that Max wasn’t going to greet him back any time soon.

“Can I scan it first?” Max asked, taking his student card out of his pocket before handing it to Justin.

The school representative scanned the card on his device, showing Max’s student data on the tablet screen.

“Mr. Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. You are currently at rank #568 with a total of 100 merit points,” Justin informed him, his voice sounding more and more robotic the longer they listened to him.

Max wasn’t surprised by the results. He was a new student, and it was only natural that he ranked low. What surprised him more was the fact that he even had 100 points.

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re in Class A. Being a student in Class A also adds merit points,” Felix explained when he noticed Max staring at the 100 points on the tablet.

“Are you ready to place your bets now?” Justin asked again, handing back Max’s student card and clearing the data on the screen.

“I’m ready,” Felix replied, taking out his own student card.

“Remember, gentlemen, you may gain or lose points regardless of how much money you donate. The amount of money isn’t important here, but who you bet on is, so choose wisely,” the representative explained.

This was another thing about the betting system. White uniforms weren’t required to bet, and the minimum amount they could bet was fifty dollars. But students rarely bet that low because it was seen as an insult to their family’s name, even though that no longer had merit in the school. This was why bets were often referred to as donations because, whatever the outcome, your money still went to the brotherhood you bet on. Ten percent of the total bets also went to the Elites’ office.

Ari went first and placed his bet, followed by Felix, who did the same. While the two were putting their bets down, Max looked back at the large screen showing the current donations each brotherhood had received.

Busters (Kings): $102,700.00

Jokers (Barons): $23,200.50

Max already knew the outcome. It was obvious that Busters would win this battle. He hadn’t seen them fight yet, but they were kings for a reason, and he knew Viktor wouldn’t risk a battle only to show a king’s defeat.

“ The brotherhoods…they’re the only ones who can hand out insane amounts of merit points ,“ Max recalled what Ari said earlier.

Just in time, Busters and Jokers returned from the armory, fully geared for battle, causing the stadium to erupt once again.

“Time is ticking, Mr. Sinclaire. Your bet, please,” Justin called out, instantly making Max look back at him, the scanner’s number pad glowing in his hand.

Max weighed his options. If he bet on Busters, it was a sure win, and he would walk away with 150 points. But if he bet on Jokers and they lost, he would be down to 50 points. Still…if he gambled on them and they pulled through, he could gain much more.

His day hadn’t gone well, and people here already saw him as a joke. 

Ari and Felix were right…If he wanted to prove his worth, he had to go big.

“There’s no maximum amount of bets, am I correct?” Max asked. The question alone caught the attention of the students around him.

Felix and Ari glanced at each other, their brows furrowed. They didn’t have to say anything to know what Max was planning.

“Of course! You can donate as much as you want,” Justin exclaimed with a wide grin.

Now, all eyes were on Max, waiting to see how much money he was willing to put down—and on which side. The commotion quickly spread, drawing in other students, until even the brotherhoods noticed.

“What’s going on there?” one of the leaders of the House of Bishops asked. Sitting right above them on the bleachers was none other than Marcus Thompson of BND, Maximilian’s brother.

“ Max. What the hell are you planning? “ Marcus mumbled as he saw his brother staring down at Justin’s tablet.

Max took a deep breath and finally made his decision. 

“I’ll bet on… Jokers,” he declared, shocking everyone. He tapped on the Jokers’ logo on the tablet and pulled out his student card again.

The cameraman panned toward the crowd, and Max’s face suddenly filled the big screen. Not many students knew he was here, but thanks to the unexpected spotlight, everyone finally saw him.

Whispers spread through the stadium. Max looked at his face on the screen before glancing at the donations tally, then down at the Battle Grounds where the Jokers were watching the same screen.

He searched for the camera filming him, smirked, and said, “I do hope you return the favor very soon.”

Right after, he scanned his card and entered the amount of money he would be donating. When he was done, everyone turned to the screen showing the new totals.

Busters (Kings): $102,700.00

Jokers (Barons): $123,200.50

Win or lose, there was no way to go but up.

And that he was certain of.

|END|

09 | Let the Battle Begin

♟

KRIST FINISHED GIVING HIS orders to his brotherhood. He’d seen that Battle Ground before, and he already knew how he could use it to their advantage.

Jokers weren’t expecting a battle this early, but he wasn’t going to shame his brotherhood by declining it. He was the leader, and leaders are the only members who decide whether to accept or decline a battle invitation. Of course, in this case, declining was not an option. They might be the lowest brotherhood in their house, but they still carried the title of Barons, which meant they were a strong brotherhood.

“Your card, please.” A white uniform standing behind a counter asked when Krist placed the gun he’d chosen on top of it.

Krist picked his weapon: an S&W Shield with 8 rounds of 9mm bullets in its magazine. It wasn’t his usual gun, but he didn’t want to exceed his round limit. In an entire school year, each member with a gun permit could only fire 50 bullets. After that, they weren’t allowed to use guns anymore. That’s why Krist had to be stingy, especially when only two members of the Jokers had permits, himself included.

“Here.” He handed over his student card.

The white uniform scanned the card on his computer, showing Krist’s data and permits. Jokers’ leader had an accuracy of 90.7%. That permitted him to use the gun.

“Alright, Baron. Any more weapons in mind?” the white uniform asked. Krist sighed. Even with all these precautionary measures, every brotherhood knew that damage had to be done to win. The rules were only formalities. Nothing about this was safe, and their parents knew it. Sometimes members came home covered in blood and bruises, and their fathers’ first question was, “ Did you win?“  instead of “ Are you okay?“

Outside these walls, families boasted about their children’s success in their respective Houses. Success inside the school meant success for the family outside. That was why so many students strived for nothing less.

“MJ, everyone’s ready,” a Jokers member said as he approached Krist.

Thassapon Supachai , better known as Brave , was Krist’s right-hand man and the only other senior in their brotherhood with a gun permit. Like Krist, he knew the danger of this battle, but bringing glory was more important than safety.

“Here.” Brave handed Krist his clown mask.

While Krist adjusted his mask, Brave said, “Viktor’s seriously an ass. He wants to embarrass us in front of all the House leaders because he knows he can take us. And seriously? The glass maze? When the blueprint was submitted last month, I already had a hunch it was theirs. But to use it on the first day? That fucker’s insane!”

“Our chances of winning are slim, I know that. Even BND can’t beat them. But losing isn’t something to be embarrassed about. As long as we showcase our skills, it’s a win-win,” Krist answered after securing his mask in place.

Brave was about to reply when someone started clapping behind them. Krist clenched his fists when he saw who it was. Brave turned to check as well and instantly frowned.

“What fine words, Master Joker. I didn’t know a character like you had such wisdom.” Viktor, Busters’ leader, smirked as he approached Krist.

Krist glanced at Brave. “Tell everyone to get ready. I’ll join you right after.”

Brave didn’t question him and left without a word, while Krist looked back at Viktor with an annoyed expression on his face. Good thing he was already wearing his mask. 

“What can I do for you, my King?”

Viktor smirked and tapped Krist’s mask. “It’s a good thing you wear these when you battle. Otherwise, the white uniforms would see your crying faces every time you lose. And you do lose quite often.”

Krist shoved his hand away. “Don’t mock us.”

“I’m not. Just stating facts, my Baron.”

“Being on top really makes people like you cocky,” Krist shot back.

“Really? That’s strange. I don’t remember you ever being at the top with me, but you’re just as cocky as I am.” Viktor’s tone made Krist’s blood boil, and he was inches away from throwing a punch if not for his self-control.

“You’re not going to be on top forever, Stepanov. Because once you’re already there, there’s no other way to go but down.”

Viktor only gave him a smug look in return.

“Attention challengers. The bidding is now commencing. Please proceed to the Battle Grounds immediately,” a voice announced from the speakers.

Krist said nothing more, bumping Viktor’s shoulder as he walked away. When he returned to the stadium with Jokers and Busters, a commotion was underway.

“What’s going on? Did someone faint?” one of Jokers’ members asked.

Krist didn’t know either…until a familiar face appeared on the screen.

“Who the fuck is that?” another member asked.

Brave’s eyes widened when he saw the white uniform on the screen. “That’s fucking Maximilian Sinclaire! The rumored rank one in Crème de la Crème,” he exclaimed.

“A Sinclaire enrolled here?” a member muttered in disbelief.

Krist said nothing. He watched as Max clicked Jokers’ name on the tablet, sparking uproar.

“Did he just fucking bid on us?!” Brave shouted. All the brotherhoods turned to see how much the famous heir had donated.

Busters (Kings): $102,700.00

Jokers (Barons): $123,200.50

Krist’s eyes widened. Maximilian Sinclaire had just donated a hundred thousand dollars to them. And if his memory served him right, that was one of the highest bets any brotherhood had ever received.

Jokers were stunned, but Krist quickly pulled them into a huddle. “No time to waste. Here’s the plan.”

As they adjusted their strategy for the ten-second advantage, the speakers blared again. “The bets are now closed, and it is clear who gets the advantage today. As the rules apply, Jokers will be given ten seconds to start their move while Busters remain still until the mark is completed.”

The LED screens shifted. On the left appeared the list of permitted weapons, and on the right a diagram of a body with X marks.

“Now for the mechanics of the battle. Within twelve minutes, the first brotherhood to plant its flag on the enemy base wins. Any weapon is allowed except those on the prohibited list. Long-range weapons are only allowed for students with permits. The body parts marked with an X cannot be targeted. If no flag is planted within twelve minutes, the match is a draw. Any brotherhood that breaks the rules will be disqualified. Good luck, and may the best brotherhood win.”

The crowd roared as the rules concluded.

Two bases stood on the field, one parallel to the stage, the other to the entrance. Like a basketball court, but instead of hoops, glowing circles marked the bases. When someone stepped inside, the circle turned orange. Plant a flag, and it turned red, signaling defeat.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/eb6e480a4d8f3d79537a7dbe3da8d4d91e4af172/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4964366b5f6e5a7943596f4545673d3d2d313031353436383138352e313839396438616336393337306265393334323832383530303535322e706e67)               

As explained earlier, the Battle Grounds can change depending on the challenger, but the bases remain the same.

For the current battle, the ground was a maze made of glass, designed by Viktor himself. The skeletal blueprint had been submitted to all the brotherhoods in the House of Kings before the school year started, so they had a general idea of what it looked like. Still, the advantage always leaned toward the brotherhood that created it since it was tailored for them to win. What made it even more challenging was the unpredictability. A single move could be disrupted by the opponent’s strategy.

“So the other brotherhoods have seen this before, but they don’t know who designed it?” Max asked as he stared at the massive grounds.

“It’s like food. A dish from an unnamed chef is presented to you, so you have no idea what it’ll taste like. But if you know who cooked it, you’ll have an idea of the flavor. That’s how the grounds work. If they know who designed it, they can predict how it’ll be used, since they know how the designer battles,” Ari explained, his analogy helping Max understand.

While everyone was waiting, sirens blared once again, and the students started stomping their feet.

The two brotherhoods went to their respective bases. Krist and Viktor each held a flag attached to a short metal pole, though everyone assumed they’d hand them off to their members to throw off the enemy.

“Good morning, House of Kings! I am Alisa Armstrong , your Brotherhood Battle commentator!” a female voice rang out, and the students cheered again. “To start our battle, let’s give it up for the challengers: rank one, the kings, Busters!”

Busters didn’t acknowledge the crowd, keeping their poker faces, while Viktor happily waved with a wide grin. Only six of them stood on the grounds. Since they were the challengers, and Jokers only had six members, they had to match the number.

“Now for the challenged: rank six, the pranksters, the jesters, the Jokers!” Alisa introduced next. Jokers jumped and waved wildly at the crowd, some of them even removing their coats and ties.

The crowd cheered for them, too, though most of the noise came from their underlings.

“Brotherhoods get ready and battle well. Good luck,” Alisa stated as the lights in the stadium dimmed while the spotlights pointed at the Grounds.

“ The battle will begin in 5…4…3…2.. .“

A gunshot rang out, and the Jokers immediately made their first move while the Busters stood still at their base. A timer showed ten seconds on screen—the advantage Jokers had earned. With the right strategy, those ten seconds could be enough to turn the tables.

Jokers carried a large box with them. Two members opened it and pulled out paint buckets, then hurled the paint upward, splattering it across the glass. The purpose was simple. The paint was going to reveal the nearly invisible paths of the maze.

When the routes became visible, Krist signaled the same members. He didn’t need to say anything. They nodded and sprinted into the maze with spray cans in hand. They moved quickly, as if they’d memorized it, which they had. They’d studied the skeletal blueprint of this crazy maze and knew the path leading to the Busters’ base. As they ran, they marked the walls with spray paint to guide their teammates.

“Everyone, stay cautious. This is Viktor we’re talking about. Anything could come out of this maze,” Krist warned. He glanced at the screen. The ten-second advantage had ended. Busters were free to move.

While Jokers’ two runners were halfway through the maze, three of Viktor’s members threw smoke bombs, releasing clouds of red, blue, and yellow that concealed their base.

“I knew they’d pull something like that,” Krist muttered, looking at the boy on his right—Brave. Though their masks looked identical, Jokers had small markings only they could recognize, letting them identify one another.

“ Van and Toni , commence Plan Lab Rat. Brave, you stay here and guard our base. I’ll follow after.“ Krist ordered.

Van and Toni immediately dug into their box. They pulled out adjustable poles with small flags on the ends, one red and one blue, and a pair of goggles each. After extending the poles above the maze, they slipped on the goggles over their clown masks.

They nodded to each other, then dashed inside, following the spray-painted trail. Krist didn’t know yet what Busters were planning, but he couldn’t wait around.

More smoke bombs burst, making the maze almost impossible to see through. But Jokers had anticipated this. The spray paint glowed faintly through the goggles, visible only within a meter. The flags peeking above the maze, meanwhile, served as signals. If they waved, Krist and Brave would know whether they’d encountered a Buster.

“I’m going in,” Krist said, and Brave handed him another pair of goggles.

Krist put them on and sprinted into the maze. He followed the glowing marks, then glanced upward. Van’s red flag spun in circles twice. That meant he’d run into two kings.

Krist avoided that path and turned toward another…only for the blue flag to start spinning too.

Now he had to choose a path that—

“What the fuck was that?” Krist froze as the ground shook beneath him.

At first, he thought it was an earthquake, but then the spray-painted path shifted.

The realization hit all at once.

“This maze fucking moves?!”

|END|

10 | The System

♟

THE MAZE STOPPED MOVING , and the smoke dispersed, revealing everyone’s locations through the see-through glass.

“Viktor is fucking crazy,” Krist muttered as he scanned the grounds. Viktor stood guarding their base while four of his men advanced toward Krist’s members. Krist had to think fast before they reached them.

“How do I cross this now?” he asked himself, eyes scanning the spray-paint markings. His heart beat fast as he glanced at the timer. He thought there was no other way to press forward, but then he spotted it. One of the trails still led forward, which meant those walls hadn’t moved.

“Gotcha.”

Krist pulled two smoke bombs and hurled them into the air. Thick plumes filled the maze, obscuring visibility once again. Taking his chance, Krist bolted toward the unmoved wall, following the painted trail. The crowd roared as he drew closer to Busters’ base. But there was one problem…

“Where the fuck is he?!” Krist shouted as he arrived at the empty base. The circle glowed orange beneath his feet, but Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Then, turning around, Krist froze…

Viktor stood there with a grin and a gun aimed directly at him.

“Why don’t you plant your flag, Baron?” Viktor mocked.

Krist cursed under his breath. Their plan had been simple: the runner carried the flag, while Krist took down Viktor. But Viktor had already predicted it. Of course he had predicted it.

“You walked right into my trap! Just like a rat in a maze,” Viktor laughed, his voice echoing off the glass.

“You’re seriously out of your mind,” Krist said, raising his own gun. Now it was down to who could shoot faster.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck you.”

Viktor laughed even harder. “Oh, don’t be such a killjoy, Master Joker.”

“How difficult an opponent are we that you need to go this far?” Krist demanded.

Viktor smirked and lowered his gun. “Don’t flatter yourself, Baron. Making the maze move isn’t an advantage for us,” Viktor revealed. “It’s not an advantage because we don’t know the maze’s pattern either! It’s completely random!” Viktor burst into manic laughter.

Krist clenched his jaw. Viktor could be lying, but knowing him, it was probably true. 

He couldn’t believe that Viktor still outsmarted them despite not knowing how their own base worked. They might be called Jokers, but Viktor himself was the real embodiment of madness. Unpredictable, untouchable…and impossible to defeat.

“Joke’s on you, Joker,” Viktor sneered.

Irritated beyond control, Krist pulled the trigger.

The stadium fell silent when Viktor emerged unscathed. Grinning, he stepped closer, exhaling against the glass. Fog bloomed across the invisible surface, revealing that Krist’s bullet was stopped by an invisible wall.

Krist touched his surroundings. Talking to Viktor made him blind to the fact that he was now trapped inside a glass box.

“This was fun, Master Joker. Let’s play again sometime.” Viktor bowed mockingly.

Krist looked around helplessly. He saw his members pinned down on the floor by the other kings. Even Brave, who was supposed to be guarding their base, was knocked unconscious. The baron wanted to run, but there was no escape. 

All Krist could do was watch the ring on their base turn from orange to red.

The outsmarted leader took a deep breath and closed his eyes in frustration as the sirens finally blared.

“And the winner is…Busters!” Alisa Armstrong’s voice rang out as the crowd erupted. 

Jokers’ banner fell as a sign of defeat. The kings who didn’t get to join the battle ran towards the banner and started stomping on it in victory. Even PHD joined in.

While the winners celebrated, Kim Hee-joon walked towards Viktor and hugged him. People who saw them would think the prince was simply congratulating the king, but then Hee-joon whispered something against his ear, and in an instant, the grin on Viktor’s face shifted into anger.

The maze’s walls sank into the floor, allowing medics to rush in. Brave’s eyes flickered open after a whiff of smelling salts. Van and Toni hurried to his side, pulling him up. Together, they went to help their injured brothers.

“One of them kicked me in the side. I think I sprained my ankle,” a Jokers member told a medic, wincing as he was settled into a wheelchair.

“Did it hurt, baby Rome ?” Van teased in a baby voice, drawing laughter.

“Why not ask Dhan ?” Rome shot back, removing his mask and pointing to another member being helped away with an ice pack on his nose.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Brave asked him.

“One of Busters chased me with a gun. I panicked and slammed my face into a glass wall,” Dhan admitted, earning even more laughter.

But while the rest of the members were trying to look at the bright side of their loss, Rome glanced at their fallen flag. “Those Kings only brought guns, and not a single one fired. Were we too easy?” He asked quietly, sadness visible on his face.

Brave looked at his juniors, guilt tugging at him. He and Krist were the only seniors, while the rest were third-years. Both carried the weight of looking after them before graduation. The last thing they wanted was to discourage them.

“You all did well. Come on, when else would we get the chance to battle the Kings?” Brave reassured them, and the others smiled faintly and nodded. 

“Alright, put your smiles back on and let’s go join our Master Joker.”

Together, they approached Krist, who was kneeling by their fallen banner after it had been trampled by the battle’s winner. Brave laid a hand on his shoulder. All six of them grasped the banner and kissed it.

“Good job, jesters. Good job,” Krist said, his voice thick with pride.

While the crowd roared for the kings, Max, Ari, and Felix clapped along, impressed. The three realized mid-battle that the maze hadn’t been designed to guarantee Busters’ victory. It was designed to make the opponents predictable. That’s how they’d won.

“Looks like I bet on the right brotherhood after all,” Max remarked.

“Newsflash, Max. You bet on Jokers. They lost, which means you lost 50 merit points,” Ari corrected. Max ignored him, eyes fixed on the Jokers, who clung to their flag while their underlings slipped away in shame.

“Congratulations to our King, and to Jokers for keeping us entertained,” Mr. Coleman said, stepping back onto the stage. As the crowd settled, the Elites joined him.

“To end our assembly, may I once again call on the Elites’ president, Ian Rothman?”

Coleman handed him the mic. When the clapping died down, Ian began. “Thank you, everyone, for this successful assembly. As president of the student body, I’d also like to thank the leaders of all the brotherhoods here today. Please give them a round of applause.”

The leaders stood, waving to the crowd.

“All brotherhood leaders are invited to the pavilion. A feast awaits you. We also hope you enjoyed the battle the Kings and Barons presented today,” Ian said, earning nods and thumbs-up from the leaders.

“Now, this is where we officially start our school year 2023–2024. And as the Elites always say: what happens in the castle…”

“Stays in the castle!” the students shouted in unison.

“Thank you, everyone. Let’s have a great year ahead.”

With that, the students began filing out toward their rooms.

The Brotherhood leaders shook hands formally. Whatever their ranks, they were brothers in arms.

Busters and PHD drew a crowd, students bowing as Viktor offered words of advice. Royals mingled, and other Houses sought moments to speak with them. After all, meeting the top 6 brotherhoods like that was a rare opportunity.

“You guys did amazing!” said the leader of rank 18, Jack of All Trades, approaching Jokers with admiration.

“You know, if we’d anticipated the maze moving, we could’ve won,” Brave confidently said. Krist only sighed, silent as his right-hand man chatted with a Rook leader.

While everyone was catching up with each other, Krist’s gaze drifted back to the dispersing crowd of white uniforms, his expression unreadable.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” he whispered, clenching his fist. 

The brotherhood battle might be over for Jokers, but Max was about to face a battle of his own…

A battle he never saw coming.

…

Max, Ari, and Felix walked back to their room in silence. A lot had happened, and Max still had unanswered questions he knew only the man who started all this could answer.

“I’m heading to the president’s office,” Max decided, making the two boys beside him stop in their tracks.

“Go ahead, it’s already lunch break anyway. Let’s just meet back in our room. We still have class elections, so don’t be late,” Ari said, and Max nodded and headed the opposite way, toward the Keep where his uncle’s office was found.

When Max was out of sight, the air between Ari and Felix turned awkward. Felix glanced at the gaffer with an anxious look. He wanted to say something but didn’t have the guts, especially when he was “just a serf.”

Ari didn’t wait and started walking away before the smaller boy could speak. Felix hurried to his side and finally blurted, “Do you want to eat lunch with me?”

The gaffer glanced at him but kept walking. “We’re not friends, and we never will be. The only reason why I’m even wasting my saliva on you is because of Max, so don’t act like we’re buddies. I’m not interested in being associated with a serf like you,” Ari cruelly told him.

Ari expected Felix to be offended and walk off to save face. But what Ari didn’t know was that Felix…

“ How annoying. “

…was a powerful heir too.

“I’m trying to be nice, and you’re making my job so fucking difficult,” Felix said, scratching the back of his head, his sudden change of attitude startling Ari.

Felix Campbell, heir to Campbell Beverage Inc., was known as the two-headed snake of his family. His physique made people underestimate him, so his family was extremely protective. However, underneath the innocent, fragile image was an ill-tempered boy with a sharp tongue.

“So, what were you saying again…gaffer?” Felix asked, glaring.

Ari stepped back, shocked. He’d never felt so insulted by the title “gaffer” before. And for the first time, he felt like being a gaffer was the lowest thing in the world.

[J.S. High, at the President’s Office ]

Max stopped outside the office door. Before knocking, he fixed his appearance. After tilting his cap, he finally knocked. 

 “Come in.”

Max took a breath and entered.

Janus’s eyes widened when he saw that his visitor was his nephew. He stood to greet him, then immediately noticed the tire marks on Max’s white peaked cap. He almost asked, but thought better of it.

“What brings you here?” Janus asked instead. He stepped forward to hug him, but Max dodged and offered a hand. “President Sinclaire. Hugging your students wouldn’t seem appropriate, don’t you think?”

Janus looked at the hand, then laughed and patted Max’s shoulder before sitting down. “I see. So you don’t want anything to do with our family name. I understand. But I don’t shake hands with my students either, so I’ll pass.”

Max lowered his hand and approached the desk.

Janus aligned the pens on the table and straightened his nameplate. “I presume you’re here about the brotherhood system. You’re surprisingly calmer than I expected,” he said, gesturing to the wingback chair.

Max sat. “There’s no point in panicking anymore. Of course, I was surprised, and I still don’t know why you enrolled me here, but I’m not letting this challenge pass. I plan to climb to the top, and I’ll do it on my own.”

Janus studied his nephew and smiled. He’d suspected Max would think this way. He’d been at the top before he was born. A place to prove his worth was an opportunity he’d never ignore.

“As expected from a Sinclaire. Or should I say…a Lemieux?” he said, and Max’s body stiffened.  “The Lemieux family was always obsessed with being the best. Am I right?” Janus asked.

Max clenched his fist and held back his words. People used his Sinclaire name to jab him, but using Lemieux was different.

“Are you trying to offend me, Uncle?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Janus chuckled. “Why? Were you offended, Nephew? I simply mentioned your mother’s family name. Why are you so fired up?”

Max locked eyes with him but didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself to speak without crossing a line that could be used against him later.

Janus noted the restraint and shifted topics. “I heard from Sir Barron that you got into your first fight today.”

“The reason I fought is the same reason I’m trying not to walk out on you right now,” Max said, drawing another chuckle.

“You were always a mommy’s boy, Max. People think you’re closer to your father, but you’re not. You’re the spitting image of her too, so I’m not surprised she favored you. But for your sake, we won’t discuss that,” he said lightly, and Max forced himself not to glare.

“What concerns me is that you threatened your classmate with outside matters. To inform you, Mr. Sinclaire, whatever happens in the castle—”

“Stays in the castle. So I’ve heard,” Max finished.

“Of course, I can’t control everyone. With how things are here, students are expected to take revenge outside their Houses, and that’s a problem for me. That’s why I added the Oath of Secrecy. Break it, and you’re expelled. Heirs fear their families, and you know well enough that disappointing them isn’t an option,” Janus said while he set his Newton’s cradle in motion. 

“Families know the rules. If they learn their son took revenge outside, it becomes a scandal. They’ll shame him like he’s committed an unforgivable sin. That’s why families are our biggest stakeholders.”

“So the system works because of fear?” Max asked.

Janus pulled the last ball of his desk toy aside and let it go, the clicks rippling. “Partly. The main reason is that it keeps the school’s fantasy realistic.”

The steady clack of the cradle stole Max’s focus. While he watched, Janus rose and moved to the window. The campus view spread out in careful order.

“I built this empire. This…world…for students like you, trapped in the elite sphere. The rush excites them. The new experiences they won’t get anywhere else drive them crazy. The pleasure of being no one in a world where you’re constantly praised is addictive. Climbing on your own without assistance? That’s a challenge they can’t seem to walk away from. I know that’s what you’re feeling, and the rest of my students feel it too,” Janus said.

“Then why the brotherhood system?” Max asked, the same question Janus had expected from the start.

Janus kept his back to him, arms crossed. “The brotherhood system kept elite criminals organized. When I decided to make the houses, I knew that putting the heirs in one place and making it a regular school would only turn into chaos. So how do you avoid chaos? With an organized system that worked for the same group of people.”

“An organized system used by elite criminals, not just elites,” Max emphasized. “You should have known this was dangerous regardless. That’s why you made all these rules and regulations. That’s what made all this work.”

Janus finally turned, smiling. “No. It wasn’t the rules that made it work. It was the association.”

|END|

11 | Brotherhood Association

♟

BROTHERHOOD ASSOCIATION IS THE association that was founded by Janus Sinclaire, alongside his twin sister. The association’s role is to manage and handle all the brotherhood houses. They create and finalize the rules, maintain the system, and make sure that all members of the brotherhoods follow their oaths.

Each officer of the association is also the president of one of the five houses.

President: Janus Sinclaire The president of J.S. High Head of the House of Kings

Vice President: Thomas Lionel The president of Thomas L. High School Head of the House of Pawns

Secretary: Lucas Ivory The president of St. George Academy Head of the House of Bishops

Treasurers: Demetrius and Francis Beaumont The presidents of D & F High School Heads of the House of Knights

Auditor: Roland Salvi The president of Roland’s School for Boys Head of the House of Rooks

“The challenge of everyone reaching the top kept my students eager to improve. Everyone thought they were the king of the jungle, so no one wanted to be at the bottom of the food chain. That kept the system going,” Janus explained to Max.

“Then here’s the next question. Why did you want to enroll me here? There had to be another reason,” Max asked, and this time, the atmosphere around Janus changed, becoming serious for the first time.

“When I met up with you a few months ago, I told you about Crème de la Crème, and I also mentioned that an heir in that group ruled J.S. High. I’m sure by now you know who that was,” Janus said to his nephew.

Max clenched his fist and answered, “Viktor Stepanov.”

Janus nodded and walked closer to Max. “In Crème de la Crème, how high did you rank?”

Max touched his left shoulder where the mark of a Fleur-de-Lis was hidden. He was five years old when he was branded by it. The mark was painful—so painful that Max almost wished he could rip his arm off. At that time, he wasn’t even allowed to cry since his mother, who had the same mark, was watching. All he did was bite down on his lower lip until it bled.

“I was second,” Max revealed.

“ Was second. But what rank are you now?“

Max paused, almost ashamed.

“Rank 1.”

“And why did that happen?”

“Do you want me to spell it out for you? The only reason my rank changed was that Viktor fucking died. But it seems like that isn’t the case anymore, is it?” Max answered in irritation, and Janus walked back to his desk.

“Crème de la Crème holds the future of the business world. Those heirs are expected to rule after their parents. And after that, their sons and daughters would be part of that group again, and the cycle would continue. It was almost like a system,” Janus explained. He then gestured at the Newton’s cradle so that Max’s attention shifted there. “Just like this cradle. Observe the metal ball. Both ends move one at a time. It’s as if they’re taking turns.”

Max watched the cradle in fascination. While his eyes were fixed on it, Janus took out a card and put it between the metal balls, making the device stop.

Max looked at Janus, who showed him the card he was holding. “Everything moves like a system. If a ball breaks, it can be replaced with another. Viktor is like this card. He will stop the system the moment he reveals to the world that he’s alive.”

Janus put the card down and sat back in his seat before continuing. “Imagine this, Max. The Stepanov clan was the most influential family in the world. Viktor is the sole survivor of his clan. Where do you think all that influence…all that wealth and power…will go?”

Max’s eyes widened in shock, realizing the gravity of what was about to fall upon them.

“I swore to his advisers that I would keep his identity hidden until he graduated, but it seems as though he’s—”

Max cut his uncle off, finishing for him. “He’s trying to find the people who murdered his clan.”

Janus sighed and massaged his forehead before nodding to confirm his nephew’s suspicion.

“So he’s planning a comeback?” Max assumed.

“He’s actually planning something bigger that might not just bring the brotherhood system down, but the entire business world with it. I always had a hunch, but your brother confirmed it for me,” Janus explained.

Max sat in disbelief. He realized this wasn’t about J.S. High anymore. This wasn’t about the system, the brotherhoods, or the rankings. This was about a stronger force that could affect millions of people.

The Stepanovs, as Janus said, were the most influential family of their time. They ruled the business world in the palm of their hands. They influenced stocks, shares, and politicians as if it were a game.

But when they were killed, the business world had to adjust, giving the ultimate throne to the Lemieuxs, which eventually was passed down to the Sinclaires. 

The people at the top controlled how the business world ran. One word from that family and your entire lineage could be destroyed. They determined who stayed and who left. Now the system was sailing smoothly after such a tragedy. But if someone like Viktor suddenly arrived to reclaim that position, then hell would definitely break loose.

“Viktor thought everything through. He knew that the king had the most power over the school, and this school held power over heirs. Imagine what he could do with that,” Janus explained further.

“But aren’t you the president? You could do something about it at least,” Max told him.

His uncle looked back at him as if he were looking at a child. “Don’t be ignorant,” he said sharply, making Max flinch upon hearing the word. “I came up with the perfect system that breathed on its own. I can’t put it down anymore.”

Max exhaled and brushed his hair back with his fingers to calm himself. He understood his suggestion was foolish, so he didn’t say anything more about it.

“Then where do I fit in all this?” Max asked instead.

Janus sat in silence for at least five seconds. He looked at his nephew, trying to find the right words to end the conversation on a good note. He had to make Max understand the situation, and if he couldn’t do that now, this chance might never come again.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, you are now the most powerful heir outside the House of Kings. Viktor Stepanov, on the other hand, is the most powerful heir inside,” he told him.

Max narrowed his eyes. He didn’t quite understand what his uncle was implying, but after letting it sink in, he finally realized what Janus meant. 

“You want me to take his place?” Max asked in disbelief.

Janus looked at Max with a serious expression and shook his head. “No, I want you to know what he’s planning and bring a stop to it before things fall apart.”

Max looked at his uncle like he was insane. When the Stepanov clan was alive, they were the greatest family in the world. The only family that stood a chance against them was the Lemieux family, and that family doesn’t exist anymore.

Max knew that even though the Sinclaire household was now the strongest family in this generation, that didn’t mean he would stand a chance against Viktor if he decided to return to his rightful place.

“I know that by now you’re aware of how you’ll be able to do that,” Janus told him.

In the middle of their conversation, the school bell rang, and Max finally stood. Before leaving, he showed Janus his student card and answered, “I have to acquire a large sum of merit points and become the Elites’ president.”

“For you to fix the system, you have to become a big part of it. Only when you conquer the school the right way will the brotherhoods recognize and respect you. If that happens, you’ll be facing Viktor head-on,” he said.

Max placed his student card back inside his coat pocket. “Don’t worry. When I decide on something, I do everything I can to make it happen,” he said with confidence before turning and walking away.

Janus smiled, but deep down he was worried. He knew the underlying danger Max would have to face, but he had no choice. Max was the only heir who could stand a chance against Viktor. The only problem was that Max was still weak even as a Sinclaire, and Janus knew the exact reason why.

“Maximilian,” Janus called out.

Max stopped, hand on the doorknob. He didn’t turn to face his uncle, so Janus officially ended their conversation by saying, “I understand why you try to avoid this matter, but if you ever face Viktor, I want you to accept your rightful place as an inheritor of the Lemieux family. You can’t face Viktor as a Sinclaire alone, but if you faced him with both names…even a king will surely tremble in fear.”

|END|

12 | Two Important Gaffers

♟

ARI GLANCED AT FELIX, who was walking beside him in silence. He didn’t know what to say to him, especially after facing a different side of Felix that no other student in the House of Kings had ever seen.

The two ate lunch together since Ari was too dumbfounded to decline Felix’s initial offer. He had never thought that the quiet, innocent, and helpless serf like Felix would end up talking back to a gaffer like Ari with such fearlessness.

“You’re purposely not ranking up, aren’t you?” Ari asked, finally saying something after keeping quiet for almost an hour. He glanced at Felix again. 

The serf continued walking with his hands inside his pockets. He had an unreadable expression as he answered, “When you’re placed too high, everyone can see you.”

“So you’d rather be stepped on than be seen?” Ari asked, and Felix chuckled.

“My invisibility is a weapon. The more they see you, the more vulnerable you become.”

Ari was surprised by such words because they made sense to him. He wanted to ask Felix more questions, but while they were walking, they saw Max coming in the opposite direction. Felix’s expressionless face turned into a wide and cheerful smile the moment he saw Max. The sudden shift of personality made the hair on Ari’s arms stand.

“Max! You’re back!” Felix shouted enthusiastically, running toward Max, who stopped on his heels when he saw them.

Ari approached him as well and asked, “We just finished eating lunch. We’re heading to our room now. How about you?”

Max took a deep breath and looked at the two. “I’ll just come with you.”

The two nodded, and Felix gave Max some snacks to eat since he didn’t eat his lunch. Max thanked him as they walked back to their rooms.

They traveled from the Keep to the Hall of Caelus, where all the sophomore classes were. When the three were only meters away from Class II-A, the noise from their room could already be heard from where they were walking. At this point, Max wasn’t even surprised anymore.

“Is our class supposed to be this—” Max was about to finish the sentence with the word “ messy “ when the noise stopped all of a sudden, almost like the students in their room vanished.

“Sir Barron’s probably back,” Ari assumed, and the three of them finally walked in.

They expected to see their homeroom teacher, but to their surprise, the man standing in front of the class was a White Uniform, and not a professor at all.

“Is this how you behave?” the White Uniform asked, and the class just stared at him in silence. No one dared to say anything. His strong presence forced them to keep their mouths shut. “Your noise could be heard in another class. Class II-C was already sitting quietly in their seat when I walked past them. For a moment, I thought I entered the wrong room,” he said, not in an angry tone, which made him sound even more intimidating.

Ari knocked on the door to grab the attention of the student standing in front. The White Uniform turned his head to the left. He saw Max, Ari, and Felix appear in the doorframe, and everyone shifted their attention to them.

“If you keep getting stressed out like that, your hair’s gonna turn as white as your uniform,” Ari jokingly said, hinting to everyone that he wasn’t afraid of the White Uniform everyone seemed terrified of.

“Aristotle Faulkner.” The student called out.

The side of Ari’s mouth twitched upon hearing his full name, but he didn’t show his irritation as he answered back, “Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev.”

Max stared at the Elites’ vice president. After his stunt during the assembly, Max understood why he was a student in such a high position. He embodied someone who was part of the top five highest-ranked students in their house, just like their president, Ian Rothman.

“Didn’t you hear the bell ring?” Gavriil asked, and Ari walked inside the room and answered, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be back here.” He walked past Gavriil to head back to his seat, but Gavriil grabbed his shoulder to stop him. 

“Let me remind you how big the gap is between my rank and yours, Mr. Faulkner.”

Ari didn’t even seem threatened as he pushed Gavriil’s hand away. “I didn’t break a rule. I arrived here five minutes after the bell. That did not mean I was late.”

“He’s right. Now let him take his seat. Don’t let your inferiority get the best of you.”

Everyone turned their heads to the doorframe to see Sir Barron standing behind Max and Felix.

“You two should take your seats as well,” Sir Barron told them. 

Felix flinched and ran to his seat, while Max nodded respectfully and walked to sit beside Ari. Gavriil, on the other hand, apologized to their homeroom teacher. He then glared at Ari before sitting down as well. The two obviously had bad blood.

“Alright, Class II-A, before we call it a day, we have to proceed to the class election. Since I know that every one of you wants to head home, let’s make this quick.” Sir Barron headed to the blackboard and wrote the words Class Representative.

In every class, there was only one officer, and that was the class representative. Anyone could be the representative. What mattered was that the majority of the class was willing to vote for you.

“The board is officially open for nominations,” Sir Barron announced, and the students started nominating their representative.

“The obvious choice would be Alexeev,” Max whispered to Ari.

Ari moved closer to Max. Without taking his eyes off the board, he whispered back, “He can’t be nominated anymore since he’s part of the Elites.”

Max pressed his lips together with an is-that-so expression. 

“Then why didn’t you try it out?” Max suggested, and Ari immediately shook his head and brushed the idea away. 

“That’s too much responsibility for me. I’m good with what I am now.”

“I nominate Aristotle Faulkner as class representative,” Max told the class a second after Ari explained why he didn’t want to be the class rep. 

Everyone almost gasped upon hearing the nomination. Ari wasn’t the leader type, and he had never shown interest in class activities like this, so nominating him was more of a surprise to them than to Ari.

Ari looked at Max with an angry expression, but Max continued looking at the board like he hadn’t said anything. Sir Barron nodded and wrote his name down, making him an official nominee. Ari’s only hope now was that no one voted for him.

“Why the hell did you nominate me? And who told you to say my full name like that?” Ari asked Max.

“I just thought that if we had a class representative, it would be better to have a gaffer for that position. And for your name, you never really told me about it either. I just heard it from the vice president,” Max explained with a calm, composed attitude. Max was so unbothered that Ari couldn’t argue.

The nominations continued, but no one dared to call out another name after Ari was nominated. When the voting came, Ari won by a landslide. Almost ninety percent of the class voted for him, even Vice President Gavriil. He must have realized that Ari fit the position well since the class representative is seen as the face of the entire class. It was a good idea to have a gaffer represent an A-Class like theirs.

“Class dismissed. And Mr. Faulkner, follow me to the faculty. I’ll give you the list of things you have to know and do as a class representative,” Sir Barron said, and Ari glared at Max and gave him the finger before following their homeroom teacher out.

Max smirked and walked to Felix. He was about to ask if he wanted to head out together, but he noticed that sitting right behind Felix was none other than the vice president, Gavriil Alexeev.

“Are you heading out now, Max?” Felix asked when Max approached him, but Max told him to wait a second as he went over to Gavriil instead.

Gavriil was arranging his things when Max offered his hand and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.”

Gavriil stopped what he was doing and looked at Max. He stared at him for a second and then glanced up at his tire-stained peaked cap. “I’m glad you decided to wear it,” he said instead, and Max put his hand down when he realized Gavriil wasn’t planning to shake it.

“Well then, if you excuse me, I have to—”

The noble vice president grabbed his bag, ready to leave. But as soon as he turned away from Max and Felix, he heard someone say, “Tell me how to get in the Elites.”

The students who were still inside the room stopped what they were doing to look at the person who dared to say such a bold statement to the vice president. It was a question that was unspoken of. No one had ever asked the Elites how they got in because everyone assumed the answer was already a given. It was almost considered common knowledge.

“How?” Gavriil turned around and looked back at Max with a serious expression. “I can’t tell you how. I can’t tell you anything. There are no given steps. That’s for you to figure out on your own,” he told him, and Max walked closer without saying a word. 

He stared at Gavriil, studying his expression. Others might have judged Max and thought of him as an ignorant boy for asking such a question, but he had a purpose. Max wanted to know how Gavriil would answer, and how he’d approach the question. He wanted to know if this vice president was worthy of an opponent, or if he himself was worthy of an opponent to him.

“Guide me. Become my mentor and guide me,” Max insisted, almost making everyone in the room gasp. They all stared at Max like he had lost all sense of pride. But Gavriil looked down at him with curiosity. He didn’t understand why Max demanded such a thing from him, but it was amusing enough for Gavriil to want to continue the conversation.

“Are you hearing yourself right now, Mr. Sinclaire?” he asked.

“It isn’t stated in the White Uniform handbook that a student or an Elite member is not allowed to guide lower-ranked students. In fact, it encourages them to do just that. Guide me until I reach the top five; after that, I will face you as a worthy opponent.”

The students were left speechless, including Felix, who tried not to smirk in amusement. No one had ever asked an Elite member to guide them, let alone become their mentor. Max was truly a genius, and Gavriil knew that.

“Fine, let me humor you, Mr. Sinclaire,” the vice said, also taking a step closer. “I don’t take charity cases from anyone. If you’re negotiating with me, then there’s something I need to gain from all this.”

Max nodded in understanding. Of course, he knew he needed to pay a hefty price for such a bold request.

“I know what the Elites are worried about,” he told the vice president.

Gavriil wasn’t expecting such a claim from someone like Max, but knowing his background, he wasn’t calling a bluff. He knew Max was telling the truth.

“I believe I will be able to help you with that.”

|END|

13 | Half-Brothers

♟

MAX LOOKED OUT AT the window of the car he was in. He took a deep breath and stared at the trees that led to the exit of their campus. They drove past a lamppost, causing Max to see his reflection on the window. He gritted his teeth when he caught a glimpse of his tire-stained peaked cap. He took the cap off and threw it on the seat beside him, startling Étienne, who was driving.

“Is there a problem, Master Leigh?” Étienne asked, but Max just crossed his arms and ignored him.

Today was Max’s first day of school, and unfortunately, his first time experiencing being just Max, and not the respected heir, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. 

It was refreshing as he expected, but exhausting. Max wasn’t going to lie about that. He learned about the different houses and the types of students, and down to the brotherhoods and their system. All of those things felt too unreal to be real, but Max saw them with his own eyes, so his mind and rational thinking just completely shut down.

And then there was that Elite…

“ Talk to me again without the dirt on your cap, and maybe I’ll take you seriously and consider it .“ He remembered Gavriil Alexeev’s answer earlier when he proposed to make him his mentor. 

That was one of the few moments Max felt genuinely embarrassed. And the waves of laughter from his classmates made things worse. If it weren’t for Felix pulling him away from the scene, he might have shouted like a spoiled child and embarrassed himself even more.

“How was school today, Master Leigh?” Étienne suddenly asked.

Max glanced at his butler through the rearview mirror and questioned him instead, “What are you? My father?”

“No, but it would be nice to report it to your actual father,” Étienne answered back, and this time, Max chuckled. He knew deep down that the last thing his father would be interested in was hearing how his first day of school went. 

Étienne was just being considerate since he knew how distant Max and his father’s relationship was.

“Tell him, if he is by any chance even interested, that I had a great day,” Max said, emphasizing the word great so the sarcasm was obvious.

“I’ll send him the message.”

Max rolled his eyes and looked out the window again, watching the cars that drove past them to distract himself. The last thing he wanted now was to worry about his father and his school life—two things that did not combine well.

He leaned his elbow on the door’s armrest, resting his chin in his palm. Watching the cars, he counted the red ones and subtracted each time a black car passed. The game lasted until they reached the Sinclaire residence, where a large gate stood with the family crest at its center.

“Negative twelve. Not a lot of people like red cars,” Max said out of nowhere when Étienne parked the car in front of the entrance of the mansion.

“Pardon?” Étienne asked with a confused expression.

Max didn’t answer as a man in uniform opened the car door for him. He stepped out with a blank expression, without even looking back at the person who opened the door. He then headed straight inside, maids bowing their heads at the sight of him.

“Welcome home, Master Leigh.” They all greeted in unison.

Max gave a slight nod to acknowledge them.

When he got to the second floor, he caught a glimpse of his brother, Marcus, blocking the doorway to his room. He sighed in irritation and turned to leave, but Marcus spotted him and immediately ran over to grab his hand.

“Wait—”

Max pulled his arm away and looked at his brother. “I’m tired. I don’t want to talk right now,” he said before pushing him aside.

Max headed to the door to grab the doorknob. But before he could even reach it, Marcus grabbed him by the arm again and pulled him away from the door so he wouldn’t be able to get in. “Come on, Max, you’re being unfair.”

“Unfair?” Max asked in disbelief.

Marcus sighed. “Okay, that’s not what I meant.”

Max refused to say anything else as he headed to his bedroom. He slammed the door, but Marcus stopped it with his bare hand and followed his brother inside.

“I know you’re mad. And I know that not telling you about the brotherhood system isn’t the reason why you’re mad,” Marcus started while Max removed his belt and coat. He didn’t look back at Marcus, but Marcus didn’t back away. 

“You told me that I had always lied to you, and within those lines, you also told me that you had always wanted the truth from me. You’re right, okay? I had always lied to you. I admit it.”

Max threw his belt and coat on a sofa and walked in front of a full-body mirror. While undoing his necktie, Marcus continued, “You want to know the truth, right? Then okay, let me tell you. I had always hated your mother.”

Max immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Marcus through his reflection in the mirror.

“I despised her. I got sick of her every time she reminded me that I was just a bastard son and I’d never be able to reach your level. Because of her, I wasn’t allowed to go to school until I was ten. For God’s sake, she didn’t allow me to share the same surname as you,” Marcus told him, and Max finally turned around to face his brother.

“Stop this nonsense,” he commanded, but Marcus ignored the order and proceeded with his truth.

“I wasn’t allowed to carry my own father’s name, and I accepted it. But Max, every single day, I was treated as an outcast. I hated Father for bringing me into this household because everything I did was wrong to her.”

“Why are you suddenly bringing this up now?” Max asked with a desperate look. He wanted to know if this conversation was necessary.

“Because I know that’s more important to you than hearing excuses about why I didn’t tell you about J.S. High. And come on, when else would we talk about this?” Marcus asked back.

“Obviously not right now,” Max answered, pulling his undone necktie off his collar and heading to the bathroom to wash his face.

“No, we’re talking about this whether you like it or not,” Marcus persisted, following his brother and standing right in the doorframe of the bathroom. Max ignored him and turned on the faucet. While washing his face, Marcus pressed on, “You told me you’re worried about your safety in J.S. High, but you have been secretly looking for your mother’s killer for the past five years.”

Max stopped washing his face after hearing what his brother revealed. The water from the faucet continued running, but Max didn’t bother to turn it off as he looked back at Marcus with irritation. “I don’t interfere with you and your mission to secretly meet your mother every week, so as common courtesy, shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

“For Christ’s sake, this isn’t about me, Max,” Marcus said, clearly frustrated.

Max turned the faucet off and wiped his face with a dry towel. He then threw the towel on the counter and walked past Marcus, purposely hitting his shoulder with his before walking back to the bedroom. 

But Marcus grabbed Max’s left arm and pulled it, forcing Max to face him again. “You have been distant ever since she died. When will you accept the fact that the only reason you can’t find her killer is because she killed herself in the first place!”

Max finally reached his limit. Before he could stop himself, he lifted his hand and slapped his brother.

The room fell silent.

Marcus wasn’t even surprised. He let go of Max’s arm and touched his cheek before laughing to himself. “You wanted my truth, right? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t hurt you?”

Max stared back at Marcus, his eyes turning red as tears were ready to fall. His brother’s words felt like a sword pierced right into his chest. It was the reality he needed to face, but his ignorance kept him numb.

“You know why I told you this, don’t you?” Marcus asked after composing himself. He approached his little brother and took out a handkerchief. He showed it to him, but Max gently pushed Marcus’s hand away and walked toward a drawer.

Max swallowed his tears as he pulled a drawer open, revealing a small antique box. He took out the box and opened it. Inside was a silver necklace with a blue letter L pendant. “Did Uncle talk to you about this? Did he tell you about Viktor?” Max asked while staring at the pendant.

“No, but isn’t that the obvious route? Viktor is a Stepanov, and the only family who stood a chance against them was your mother’s family,” Marcus answered.

Max let out a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. He then pulled out the necklace from the box and touched the cold pendant.

“You know you can’t keep pretending you’re not a Lemieux. You have their blood, and at the end of the day, you are still the last in line as their inheritor. I know you despise them because of what you suspect they did to your mother, but we’re not kids anymore, Max,” Marcus told him while Max continued to stare at the necklace.

“It’s not an easy decision to make. I made a promise to my mother,” Max answered, without taking his eyes off the necklace.

“Face the last living Stepanov who inherited his clan’s riches as a Sinclaire, and he will easily destroy you. Our family name will be forgotten like the Lemieuxs. Is that what you want?” Marcus asked, and Max finally looked back at his brother.

“Max, your mother knew she failed. She knew she had destroyed their company, which is why she gave it to our father. Our father brought it back to the top, and now it’s your turn to put it back to where it belongs…to the Lemieuxs. That is what your mother wants you to fulfill, not your unspoken promise,” Marcus told Max, who was putting the necklace back in its box.

Max’s mother grew up with the mindset that she was the most powerful heir in the world. That mindset created a monster so strong that people feared and hated her at the same time. 

Her own people turned against her, making sure their company fell with her as the chairman. To save face, she sold their family company to a Sinclaire, who later became her husband. It was supposed to be the perfect love story, but it only turned tragic.

“Why did all of you even think that I was the missing link to all this madness?” Max asked, obviously puzzled by what was happening, since he wasn’t even involved with this problem, let alone knowing it even existed a few hours ago.

“Don’t you still get it? During their time, it was the Lemieux family and the Stepanov clan. They were the elites of the elites. The Sinclaires wouldn’t even be known if our father hadn’t married your mother. But the Stepanov clan was destroyed just years after the Lemieux family disappeared,” Marcus reminded him.

“But Viktor is alive,” he said next. “He will make a return, and he knows that the Lemieux family won’t do the same. Prove him wrong, Max. That’s all you have to do,” Marcus persistently told him, acting as if it was going to be easy.

Max stood from the bed and walked back to the mirror to stare at himself. He gazed at his ocean-blue eyes, the rare eye color that the Lemieux family was known for. It reminded Max of his mother and how cold she’d stare at him whenever he did something she didn’t like.

People always said that Max resembled his mother, but Max knew that, other than his eyes, there was nothing else similar. There was also one obvious fact that Max kept telling himself ever since he was young: he wasn’t a monster like her. He loved her, but he wasn’t like her.

“These are some of the rare moments where I am reminded that you are four years older than me. But alright, when the time comes, I promise I’ll think about it,” Max answered truthfully before looking away from his reflection. 

“I’ll take my place as the inheritor of Lemieux, but I want you to make me another promise.” Max looked back at Marcus with a serious expression. He knew the risks of taking the Lemieux name, but he also knew the consequences of leaving the Sinclaire behind. The only solution to avoid such consequences lay with his half-brother.

“I will take the Lemieux name, and I want you, my dear brother, to take the Sinclaire family name and hold it with pride.”

Marcus looked at Max with a blank expression. Then the blank expression turned into a frown, as if he had heard a distasteful joke and wanted Max to take it back.

“That’s not funny.”

“Let me rephrase that then,” Max told him. “I’ll take what is rightfully mine, and I’ll take what my mother gave to our father and put it back to its former place. But as I do that, I want you to officially change your surname and take what is rightfully yours in return.”

Marcus still looked like he didn’t understand a single word that came out of Max’s mouth, even though Max’s words were crystal clear.

And it wasn’t that Marcus didn’t understand. He just couldn’t believe it.

“I apologize for two things. One was for not understanding your situation earlier about the brotherhoods. I was just overwhelmed, so I acted that way. The second thing is about my mother. I knew how she treated you, but I didn’t do anything. For that, I am sorry,” Max revealed, surprising Marcus even more.

Marcus’s initial plan was to apologize for what happened at school and then talk about the problem with Viktor and the important role Max had to play to win against that cruel king, but apparently, the tables had turned.

“I know you want to take your revenge and prove her wrong,” Max said next. “So, as the eldest, you become the rightful heir to the Sinclaire family. Take whatever Father intends to give you. Be by my side as one of the greatest, and only then will you be equal to me. If you do that, you will definitely be able to take your long-awaited revenge,” Max said with a determined voice that made the hair on Marcus’s skin stand.

For the first time in a long time, a tear fell from Marcus’s eyes. He laughed it off at first while wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, but soon he started sobbing. Max didn’t say anything, but he moved closer to his older brother and patted his shoulder in comfort.

“Is this your way of making up with me? After everything that I just said?” he asked.

Max chuckled and put his hand down.

“That’s not even half of what I intended to give you.”

|END|

14 | Ranking Up

♟

“MASTER LEIGH, BREAKFAST IS ready,” Étienne called from outside Max’s bedroom. No one answered him, so he knocked three consecutive times, but still there was no answer. Without a second thought, he barged inside after his fourth knock. He expected to see Max sleeping in bed, but to his surprise, Max was half-naked on the floor doing push-ups.

Étienne instantly bowed apologetically and said, “I thought you were still asleep, Master.”

Max finished five more push-ups before standing. Étienne rushed to take a towel so Max could dry himself. Max didn’t thank his butler and used the towel to wipe the sweat dripping from his chin. He then headed to the mirror to check his body. 

Max used to exercise and train for self-defense when he was younger, but since he had been busy with the corporation, he hadn’t had a chance to do it. That was why Max decided to start exercising again, especially when fighting could happen at their school.

“Where’s my brother?” Max asked before throwing the wet towel back to his butler.

“Sir Marcus is already eating breakfast downstairs. He said to—” Étienne suddenly stopped mid-answer. Max looked at him, confused, and then he realized that Étienne was actually staring at his chest, or more specifically, staring at the necklace that he was wearing.

“Master, you’re wearing Madam Luna’s family necklace,” Étienne said in shock. “You actually kept it.”

“ Yeah, “ Max answered while putting on a shirt, having a strange feeling after hearing his butler say the name Luna after so long. No one has mentioned Luna Lemieux’s name since the accident.

“Why are you wearing it?” Étienne asked.

Of course Étienne would be surprised, considering he came from a line of butlers, specifically for the Lemieux family. His father was Luna’s own personal butler, which was why Étienne was assigned to Max when he was born. The necklace was as significant to him as it was to Max.

“Starting today, I’ll be wearing it,” Max answered, touching the necklace as he said it.

“You are aware that you cannot wear that publicly, am I correct?” Étienne asked, but Max didn’t answer him and put on his shirt instead. But even though he didn’t give an answer, Max knew that fact. Max can only inherit the Lemieux riches, along with the necklace, when he turns eighteen. He was still seventeen, so he wasn’t in a position to flaunt it.

“By the way, if you ever mentioned anything to Father, I will fire you,” Max warned before hiding the necklace underneath his shirt. Étienne wanted to tell him how his father would react if he ever caught Max with that necklace, but he decided to keep his mouth shut and nodded instead. 

“Understood.”

“I’ll eat breakfast after I finish some paperwork. Please tell Marcus not to wait for me,” Max said after, and Étienne bowed and walked to the door. Before leaving, Étienne looked over his shoulder and told his master seriously, “Madam Luna…she was killed because she was a Lemieux. You don’t want to end up like her or the Stepanovs.” Then Étienne left and closed the door behind him.

Max took a seat on the sofa and stared at the scattered papers on the center table. He read through one of the reports, but as he did so, Max unconsciously touched the necklace through his shirt. He traced the shape of the pendant and whispered under his breath, “Lemieux.” And as soon as he said that word, he spotted a signature on one of the papers—a signature from a man named Denzel Sinclaire .

…

Marcus left using a different car this time. No one knew about the relationship he had with Max, but it was better to be safe now than sorry later.

“Master Leigh, Sir Marcus wanted me to send you a message before he left the household,” Étienne said as he opened the car door for Max. Max got inside and waited for Étienne to do the same. As soon as his butler fastened his seatbelt, Max finally asked, “What was it?”

Étienne adjusted the rearview mirror a little and answered, “’ Avoid crossing paths with the Kings ’. That’s what he said.”

“Did he forget that phones exist? He could have just texted me that,” Max commented, and Étienne just shrugged and drove off.

Today was the official start of J.S. High’s exciting school activities. The events that took place yesterday overwhelmed Max, so he did what he knew best, and that was to read through the entire White Uniform and Brotherhood Handbook like his life depended on it. He read it so much that he even found a few loopholes. He made sure no one called him ignorant again.

But between the two handbooks, Max memorized the Brotherhood Handbook more. There were thirty brotherhoods in total, but only six were in the House of Kings. Other than their brotherhood name, banner, and leader, Max knew nothing about them. That was why the first brotherhood he wanted to start with was none other than the brotherhood he bet an insane amount of money on.

Jokers.

People might say he was crazy for donating such a large amount, but for Max, it was like investing. And as a son of two business tycoons, Max was very good with investments.

“We’re here, Master,” Étienne said, unbuckling his seatbelt before heading out to open Max’s door for him. Max grabbed his bag and headed out, and as soon as he did, a cheerful voice greeted him. 

“Max! Good morning!”

Max turned around and spotted Felix emerging from a black Jaguar XJ Sentinel. There were two guards with him too, so the students couldn’t help but look, especially since Felix was as small as a grade-schooler. The protection his family gave him was mind-boggling for Max. Max didn’t even have guards with him all the time.

“I’m really starting to think you’re a son of a president,” another voice said, and Max saw Ari walking toward him with his bag resting on his shoulder like those delinquents did when they entered a scene.

Felix bowed respectfully to his guards and joined his new friends. Étienne, on the other hand, stared at his master with a smile, surprised yet proud that Max now had friends who greeted him in the morning. Max had always been a lonely boy, so Étienne was glad that he was starting to socialize at least.

“I hope you have an amazing day, Master,” Étienne said with a slight bow before taking his leave. As soon as he drove off, Max looked back at Felix and Ari and asked, “Do we have any exciting events today?”

The three started walking toward the main building, AKA the Keep, but this time Max didn’t have a tire stain on his peaked cap anymore.

“Well, it is Brotherhood Week, so a lot of exciting things could happen. But don’t worry, Sir Barron will explain this later,” Felix answered.

“We’re also getting our armbands today,” Ari added, and since he already expected Max to ask about it as well, he explained further, “Armbands are what we wear so that we can be identified. Black is for serfs, blue for dwellers, and yellow or gold for gaffers. Once we wear those armbands, the real battle begins. So if you think you can still use your Sinclaire card, then think again. You might end up getting shoved in a toilet if you aren’t cautious.”

“You have to be joking,” Max said with a chuckle, but the serious look on both Ari and Felix made him stop.

“I was shoved in a toilet and a trash bin last year…twice,” Felix shared, shocking Max.

“You let them do that to you? Didn’t you even fight back? Did no one help you?” Max asked, and it was Felix’s turn to chuckle at Max’s innocent remark.

“Like what we’ve been saying, Max, ranks here are everything. No one will help a serf. Even other serfs won’t help you. And come on, look at me. Even a kid could beat me up,” Felix told him, and for some reason, something about that made Max feel worried. He knew what might happen, which was why he even started exercising, but he didn’t expect it to be up to this level.

“Are you guys saying that since you’re a serf, you can’t fight people ranked higher than you? You can’t even defend yourself?” Max asked next.

Ari shook his head and answered, “Not exactly. If you have the guts, then go wild. But it will do you more harm than good. You can fight a gaffer and win, but that gaffer can hire dwellers or even other serfs to beat you up. So most serfs just keep it low and hope they get promoted as dwellers since dwellers are the safest group you could be in.”

“A lot of serfs are also lackeys to gaffers. Gaffers know how desperate serfs are for points, so they treat them like animals and boss them around in exchange for a few merit points. One time, a serf was asked by a gaffer to lick a bunch of shoes. When he did it, the gaffer only gave him five points,” Felix explained further.

Max couldn’t help but frown upon hearing what the two had to say.

“ Is this what my uncle meant by controlled chaos? “ Max thought.

“Have you done that before, Ari? Have you bullied or hired someone to beat a serf up? Bossed them around and made them lick shoes?” Max asked, and the questions surprised Felix more than Ari. In an instant, Max could tell that Felix knew something about Ari’s past activities, and he wanted to know what the redhead would say.

Ari got ready to open his mouth to answer Max’s question, but then the bell rang, so the three were forced to hurry to their rooms. 

When they got there, the class was as lively as ever. Most of the students ignored them, probably because they were with Ari, but some students who were playing around bumped into Max and even stepped on him, the pain electrifying his entire body as it happened.

The students waited for Max’s reaction, but Max remembered what Felix and Ari had said to him earlier, so he shook the pain off and walked to his seat. Soon after, Sir Barron arrived with Gavriil, who was holding a large red velvet case.

“Take your seats, everyone,” Sir Barron told the class as Gavriil placed the case on the professor’s desk before taking his seat like the rest of his classmates.

Sir Barron stood in the middle and started, “As you may all know, today marks the Brotherhood Week, which means regular classes will not start yet. 

For the sake of your classmate who does not know about this, Brotherhood Week consists of two major events: the club orientation and the welcome ball, where brotherhoods have the chance to showcase themselves to gain underlings. The best underlings will then have the chance to become actual members of the brotherhood next year.“

Sir Barron then looked at Max. “And since Sinclaire is a transferee, you have permission to look around the booths. The rest of you must head to your clubs to help with your club presentation on Friday.”

“Yes, Sir,” the class answered.

While Sir Barron continued to explain the details of what would happen during tomorrow’s club presentation, Max moved close to Ari and whispered, “ What club are you in ?“

“Literature Club,” Ari answered, surprising Max because he expected him to be in a more exciting club. Max wanted to be in the same club as him, but after hearing what it was, Max decided that it might be best if they weren’t together on that one.

“What? I’m in a family of authors with Nobel prizes. Where did you expect me to be?” Ari said when he noticed Max’s look of disbelief.

Max just shrugged and asked next, “How about Gavriil?”

Ari’s expression changed a little when he heard the name, but he answered anyway. “He’s the advisor of the Newspaper Club.”

“Advisor? Is that even allowed?”

“Well…”

There are thirty-five clubs in the House of Kings. Each club has a professor as an advisor, while some are headed by senior students. In Gavriil’s case, he’s the advisor for the Newspaper Club because he’s the vice president of the Elites. The same as President Ian Rothman, who is the advisor for the Broadcasting Club. The reason for that additional responsibility is for the Elites to have full control of the school’s news, media, and overall content.

“Then how about Felix? Please tell me he’s not part of the Math Club,” Max said next, and Ari sighed and rested his elbow on his seat before placing his chin in his hand.

“He’s in Omega Society,” Ari answered, and before Max could ask further about it, Sir Barron walked toward the velvet box that the others could only assume was where their new armbands were.

“I will now give you your armbands according to ranks. Know that these armbands represent your hard work during your freshman year. All the merit points you have accumulated have now been totaled. Let’s first start with the gaffers,” Sir Barron said as he adjusted his black gloves before opening the suitcase. He then pulled out a gold armband with the Roman numeral II engraved on it, indicating their year level.

“With 8,400 points, let me call on rank #2, Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev,” Sir Barron called first, and Gavriil stood and approached their homeroom teacher while his classmates clapped for him.

“8,400 points? How the hell did that happen?” Max asked in shock.

Ari, who still looked annoyed, explained, “We enrolled at the same time, and he even got first on the exams while I got second. But when we were freshmen, he was already a gaffer, which was unbelievable. And then at the end of our third term, he became the vice president.”

“Doesn’t that mean—”

“Yes, he was already a student of J.S. High, but he stopped and then suddenly repeated. Which explains why he already has an insane amount of points,” Ari concluded, and the two looked back at Sir Barron, who was putting the armband on Gavriil’s arm.

“Congratulations,” Sir Barron told him, and Gavriil thanked their homeroom adviser before returning to his seat. 

“Next, we have rank #294, Aristotle Faulkner, with 3,660 points,” Sir Barron announced next, and Ari stood as the class clapped for him too.

“Now for the dwellers,” he said as soon as Ari went back to his seat. “Rank #323, Hazik Zahari bin Ahmad , with 2,405 points,” he announced before taking out a blue armband this time.

Students stood one by one until finally the only two serfs in the class were called. With a disappointed look on his face, Sir Barron pulled out a black armband from the velvet case and said, “Now for the serfs. With 1,470 points, rank #408, Felix Campbell.”

The students in the class laughed, even Ari, who was sitting right beside Max, who was also a serf. When Ari saw Max glaring at him, he instantly stopped laughing, quietly watching as Felix stood beside their homeroom teacher with a terrified look.

Felix gulped as Sir Barron placed his armband for him. Soon after, he headed back to his seat, only to be tripped by a dweller who stretched his leg when he walked past him. Felix fell, and the class laughed again. Max wanted to do something, but Ari was already holding his arm to stop him.

“Mr. Campbell, please take your seat,” Sir Barron said instead of scolding the person who tripped him.

Felix immediately apologized and ran to his seat in embarrassment. And as soon as he did, Sir Barron took out the last armband and said, “For the last serf, rank #556, with a total of…50 points, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.”

The room fell silent as Max slowly lifted himself from his seat. He didn’t say anything, but he tried to walk to the front with a confident face, even though he knew the atmosphere was forcing him not to.

Max stood beside Sir Barron and faced the class. They all had blank expressions, but as soon as Sir Barron placed the armband on him, their faces all became sadistic. Some were even smirking and grinning in excitement. Max was a boy who knew his place, which meant he knew he was finally at the bottom of the food chain. The thought of him being the prey made him feel frightened. But at the same time…

It excited him.

“You may take your seat,” Sir Barron told him, and Max headed to his seat, not tripping like what happened to Felix.

Sir Barron closed the velvet case and walked in front with his hands behind his back. “Like what I stated yesterday, as your class adviser, I have the power to make the classroom rules. So other than keeping your grades high, I officially declare that anyone who is under rank #320 at the end of your second term, regardless of whether you are a dweller or a serf, would be kicked out of this class and transferred to Class B.” Sir Barron announced, shocking everyone. 

The atmosphere changed in an instant as soon as they heard the announcement. Someone even gasped at the back.

“Is he insane?” Ari asked with surprise, even though he was already in the safe zone himself.

“Let me remind you all that you are an A-Class, so I expect that this class will be filled with gaffers and dwellers, and not dwellers and serfs. You have six months to accomplish this,” Sir Barron told them, and the class started talking with each other, already complaining about how hard the task was, especially since half of the class was ranked 340 and lower.

“Alright, once the bell rings, head to your clubs. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sir Barron finished, taking the velvet suitcase and taking his leave. The moment he left the room, the noise became even louder.

“Come on, it’s six months. You can raise your ranks if you’re all active enough,” Ari said with his arms crossed, making some of the students secretly glare at him, specifically Ervin Walker, who had a feud with both Max and Ari yesterday.

“Well, easy for you to say. You’re already over three hundred,” Max said before taking out his handy J.S. High notebook.

“The freshmen will be hogging points starting today. A handful of them will enter the top 350, pushing students like us back,” Felix added as he approached Max and Ari’s seat. The only serfs in class joined each other, but no one dared approach them because of Ari. Felix then leaned on Max’s desk, and the three started discussing the challenge they would be facing thanks to their homeroom teacher’s absurd class qualification.

“Looks like I have to raise my rank if I want to stay in this class,” Felix said, and Ari instantly snickered and teasingly told him, “Wouldn’t that be inconvenient to you?”

Felix’s expression changed for a quick second, but he laughed it off like Ari just made a joke. “It will be hard, but I don’t think it would be inconvenient,” he said, and Ari finally let it go.

While the two were sending death threats through their eyes, Max wrote down a messy plan in his notebook. When the two noticed him, Ari asked, “Please tell me you’re not planning to murder students so you can rank up.”

“That would be too easy,” Max said casually. Ari was only joking, but Max didn’t sound like he was.

Ari tried writing something on his notebook to get Max to relax a bit, but Max only pushed his hand away and continued writing.

“I have a lot of things that I have to accomplish within this year, and Sir Barron’s classroom rule just made me ten times more motivated than before. All I have to do now is make a plan and write specific steps on how I’ll be able to achieve my ultimate goal,” Max explained without removing his eyes from his notebook.

Ari and Felix looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Max. 

“And what ultimate goal would that be?” Felix asked.

Max wrote one final word in his notebook before looking back at the two and saying, “Isn’t it obvious? I have to conquer Viktor Stepanov.”

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/27de5c22484d1a41d23c139c58d6621a8a61bb06/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f39502d356978594a3545666e38773d3d2d313032313539323038392e313839613331303139363038373030663635313535363233383439302e706e67)               

|END|

15 | Omega Society

♟

THE ROOM FELL SILENT . And in an instant, everyone’s eyes were on Max, who just so happened to make such a bold statement regarding the King of all the houses. 

A couple of seconds passed, and the silence, as Max expected, turned into laughter. Even Ari and Felix laughed.

“You have officially lost your mind. Being on top all the time really made you delusional,” Ari said as he and the rest of the class laughed at what Max said. But one student in the room wasn’t laughing at all, and that student was none other than the vice president, Gavriil Alexeev.

Gavriil stood from his seat, and that alone made everyone stop laughing. The class watched as Gavriil approached Max with a blank expression, and without any warning, he slammed his hand on Max’s notebook and said, “Conquer Viktor Stepanov, you say? Such a brave declaration from someone who has fifty merit points to his name.”

Max stared at his notebook in surprise. The side of his mouth twitched when he saw the crumpled paper under Gavriil’s hand. Max slowly lifted his head and glared at the culprit. “Move your hand,” he said instead of addressing Gavriil’s initial statement.

Gavriil didn’t say anything, but to everyone’s surprise, he ripped off the page from Max’s notebook, crumpled it, and threw it to the ground in anger. “Specific steps? Ultimate goal? What do you think Viktor is? A prize to be won? He is the most dangerous man in this school, and he has the ability to do things to you that you cannot even imagine. To openly declare such a thing without knowing the risk is idiotic and ignorant.”

The aura that Gavriil emitted was so strong that some had to look away in fear. This was the power of the vice president. This was the power of the second-strongest White Uniform in their house.

“Do you think I don’t know the risk?” Max finally answered back, standing from his seat to level with Gavriil. Ari wanted to intervene, but even though he was a gaffer, he knew that this wasn’t his place anymore.

“I did not say that Viktor is a prize, so do not twist my words. But I will not deny that he is something that I have to conquer to be able to—” Max stopped himself after realizing what he was about to say. He took a deep breath and walked to the crumpled paper that Gavriil had thrown. He picked it up and smoothed it out before looking back at the vice president with a calmer expression. 

“I don’t know why you’re mad, but your sudden outburst will not change my mind. I will conquer Viktor Stepanov, and I will defeat you and anyone else who stands in my way.”

The bell rang right at that moment, and Gavriil stared straight into Max’s eyes before finallyturning back and walking away. The students in class started leaving the room as well, and Ari and Felix stood beside Max with worried expressions.

“You really do want to get killed,” Felix told him, and Max adjusted his cap and looked at his two friends. “That Gavriil guy…he has a hot temper for someone who acts cold. Quite an interesting character.”

“You’re the one with an interesting character,” Ari answered immediately, and Max just looked at the paper he was holding before placing it back in his notebook.

Max didn’t say anything else and walked toward the door to make his exit, Ari and Felix following right behind him.

“I’ll be heading to my club. I don’t want to say this, but you’d better be careful, especially when you’re walking with another serf. The only reason you haven’t been beaten around yet is that you’re with me, so watch your back,” Ari warned, which was something that Max couldn’t disagree with.

“We’ll be fine,” he said instead, and Ari nodded and walked off in a different direction, leaving the two prey by themselves.

Felix and Max walked side by side in the middle of the crowded hallway. Some were being pushed, but Max easily dodged them, pulling Felix with him as much as possible. Thankfully, everyone was busy with the club preparations, so the two ended up being completely invisible.

“Heard from Ari that you’re in some type of society,” Max said as soon as they escaped the wave of students.

“Yeah, it’s called the Omega Society, but I don’t think it’s a club that fits you and your image, especially when you’re aiming for something so high. Maybe join the Alpha Society instead, or Beta Society, that could work too,” Felix told him.

Max looked at Felix with a serious expression and said back, “You know that I still wouldn’t understand you even if you mentioned all the societies in this school.”

Felix’s mouth turned into an O shape when he remembered that Max’s knowledge about their house was lower than a freshman’s. “Alright, I’ll keep this explanation short.

“As mentioned before, there are thirty-five clubs in total, and three of those clubs are classified as Brotherhood Clubs that directly work with brotherhoods. Those clubs are the Alpha, Beta, and Omega Societies. 

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/059f65cc85652e2e29469a3a774214cd0fd4ba4c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f7a39372d594749344938735738413d3d2d313032323038363639312e313839613431613832623236306131623435393533333934383331352e706e67)               

“ALPHA SOCIETY is considered the most respected club among all the clubs in J.S. High because most of the students are tough and fearsome. This club is responsible for anything and everything regarding brotherhood battles. They act as referees, which is why they’re required to master all the rules about the battle.

They consist of very popular white uniforms, too. That’s why being a member of Alpha Society gets you a higher chance of getting picked as an underling for brotherhoods.

“BETA SOCIETY are known as the smart ones. They   handle the weapons and resources used by the brotherhoods. They distribute the weapons and check their permits before giving those weapons to them. They’re also responsible for buying the weapons and resources requested by the brotherhoods. 

A couple of them also volunteer as medics, while some of the senior members help in building Battle Grounds.

“Last is the OMEGA SOCIETY …oh great, someone spray-painted on our ad again,” Felix interjected with indifference when they walked past the society bulletin board. “Anyway, they’re the most neglected club out of all the thirty-five clubs. The Omega Society is basically labeled as the cleaners since their only purpose is to literally clean the mess that brotherhoods make after they perform their customs, fights, and battles.”

“You got that?” Felix asked after explaining all three societies.

Max tried to remember all the new information he had garnered so he could write it down in his notebook later.

“So all you’ve been doing is cleaning? Like janitors,” Max concluded, making Felix laugh as if Max were kidding. But Max stared down at him, and Felix’s laughter slowly died down as he finally admitted, “Yes.”

“Do you get points when you join a club?” Max asked next, and Felix shook his head, signifying that they didn’t get points just for entering a club, but they would get points depending on what they did in that club.

“I can show you around the clubs if you want, but their actual presentations are on Friday, so there’s not much for you to see yet,” Felix suggested.

Max thought about it for a second, but he realized that he didn’t want to walk around this large campus without getting anything from it, so he said instead, “I’ll just come with you.”

Felix wasn’t expecting such a request from Max, but he didn’t have any reason to decline him, so Felix brought Max all the way to the fourth floor of the East Tower, where all the senior classes were held.

“The Alpha, Beta, and Omega Societies are all in this building since they have to be close to the brotherhoods,” Felix explained while he and Max were walking down an empty hallway.

“But why in the seniors’ building? Aren’t there junior and sophomore brotherhoods, too?” Max asked, and Felix almost facepalmed when he once again realized that Max didn’t know a lot about their school.

“I forgot to tell you. Brotherhoods have separate classes. You don’t put brotherhoods together with White Uniforms; things would get messy. That’s why they have their own building called the Hall of Janus. It’s the one beside this tower,” Felix explained, and Max nodded in understanding.

After a few more steps, the two arrived in front of a white door. Felix faced Max with a large smile and exclaimed, “Welcome to the Omega Society!”

Max didn’t say anything for a second. He stared at the door, then at Felix, and then back to the door. “This is a janitor’s closet,” he bluntly told Felix.

“Jani—don’t be rude,” Felix said in annoyance before opening the door and heading inside. Max took a deep breath and followed behind him. Inside was a regular club room with a long table, some chairs, scattered books, a whiteboard, and, of course, the cleaning utensils. But it was still small, which was fitting.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” Felix said, and Max walked to the scattered books and magazines, picking one up with only two fingers like it was contaminated by some kind of virus.

“I wasn’t expecting much, but this really is a small room. How many members do you even have? Do you guys even fit here?” Max asked, putting the magazine down and looking at Felix, who was tidying the place up.

“Don’t worry, there are only seven of us. Well, five now since two were seniors and have graduated,” Felix explained.

Max brushed a seat with a magazine and sat down on it. “So all you do is clean? How does that even work for you? And how do you get merit points from it?” he asked.

Felix jumped up and sat on the table, his feet dangling as he answered, “Most of the time, the school staff gives us points. On rare occasions, it’s the brotherhoods themselves. Sometimes they give fifty points to each of us after cleaning.”

Max was about to ask another question when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a student with glasses and perfectly waxed hair. Max instantly checked his armband. “Gaffer,” he mumbled to himself as the student closed the door behind him.

“Payton! Welcome back!” Felix happily greeted him, hopping off the table as he said it.

“Felix! I’m glad you’re here. We have a problem,” the man named Payton said instead, making the smile on Felix’s face disappear.

“What problem? Please don’t tell me a brotherhood already started their custom and we have to clean up,” Felix assumed with a worried expression.

Payton shook his head. “No, it’s even worse. Our club adviser left. Heard his wife just got into an accident, so he went on leave.”

“What?!”

Payton was about to explain more, but then his eyes spotted Max, who was sitting on the chair with a bored expression. Payton stared for a few seconds, then his eyes widened in shock after identifying who the person was. He pointed at Max like he was accusing him of something and then shouted, “Sinclaire?!”

Max didn’t say anything and casually waved at Payton, who seemed like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. As if it wasn’t enough, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, which was over the top, but not something Max hadn’t seen before.

“Why is it here?” he asked while looking straight at Max. Then he looked at Felix and repeated, “Why is it  here?” He emphasized the word “ it,“ pretending like Max was another species.

Felix got ready to explain, but Payton suddenly covered his mouth in horror at an answer he made himself. “N-no…no no no no! We can’t have him in our club. We can’t have someone who challenged the Barons in our club. We will be in big trouble!”

Max furrowed his brows. “Barons?” he asked, but then his memory supplied the answer. “Oh, you mean Jokers?”

“Uhm, who else?”

“Okay, first off, I’m not joining your club. I’m just here to kill time with Felix. Second, I don’t remember challenging Jokers. For all I know, I generously donated a hundred thousand dollars to them.”

“Which translates to you challenging them!” Payton shouted hysterically, clutching his chest before pulling out his inhaler to use it.

“H-how—” Max looked at Felix with wide eyes, silently asking him to help. So Felix grabbed Payton by the shoulders and said, “Payton! Breathe! Think happy thoughts, like… quantum physics, or the cognitive theory.”

Max squinted in confusion, but Payton finally calmed down.

“Sorry, I had a mini panic attack for a second. But it’s good that you’re not planning on joining us,” Payton said, adjusting his glasses before looking back at Max with a smile. “Regardless, a friend of Felix is a friend of mine. I’m Payton Wolfe , third-year gaffer. Nice to meet you.”

Max didn’t say anything but nodded to acknowledge the greeting.

“ He’s from a family of scholars, “ Felix whispered, and Max answered with an “ah,” like being a son of scholars explained why Payton acted like that. It was stereotypical, really.

“I can’t believe you’re a gaffer,” Max pointed out.

Payton seemed offended as he huffed and adjusted his glasses. “Gaffers are stereotyped as ruthless, but being physically strong isn’t the only thing that can rank you up. I’ve competed in countless competitions and mathlethes. My achievements are far more impressive than…underlings.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to offend you. I’m actually quite impressed,” Max clarified, and for a second, Payton looked flattered.

“A-anyway, we should get ready before the others arrive. We have to make sure we recruit as many freshmen as possible this year so the council can give us more budget,” Payton said as he ran to a cabinet and started pulling things out.

Max watched in silence as Felix helped Payton take out posters they had probably used last year. As the two were preparing their props, someone suddenly knocked on the door, instantly making them stop.

“Guess that’s the others,” Payton said, heading to the door. He was expecting a familiar face, but when he saw who it was, Payton immediately bowed, surprising not only himself but Felix and Max too. 

“Treasurer Dustin!”

Felix instantly stood straighter, and Max rose as well as the Elites’ treasurer, Dustin Griffiths, barged into the room with a serious expression. Even though he and his brother were identical, their personalities helped differentiate them.

“Omega Society, I’ll make this quick,” he said while reading from a folder. He didn’t even look at Max or Felix as he continued, “Third-year student Park Minkyu and fourth-year students Isaac West and Richard Garcia have officially withdrawn from this club, leaving you with only two members. The council has not only withdrawn your entire budget, but starting today, Omega Society no longer ceases to exist.”

“What?!” Payton and Felix reacted in unison.

“T-that can’t be—”

Dustin finally lifted his head and looked at Payton. “Clubs that have fewer than five members are automatically dropped. Of course, if you can find three new members before Brotherhood Week ends, then you might have a chance to save it.” He explained, and all Payton could do was take out his inhaler because of the sudden news.

“T-three members? That’s impossible for our club, and you know that,” Felix said.

Dustin glared at him in an instant, probably because he didn’t like how Felix answered him. 

“Listen carefully, serf,” he said, facing Felix with overwhelming dominance. “I don’t care if this embarrassing club rots until you graduate, but you do not speak while two higher ranks are talking. Know the basic rules of this house.”

Felix gulped and dared not say a word. Max watched in silence and didn’t say anything either, since he was a serf himself and the last thing he wanted was to get involved with an Elites member.

Dustin said nothing more. He looked to the side and noticed Max standing in the corner in silence. He examined Max, staring from head to toe, then looked back at Payton and smirked. “Looks like you only need two new janitors now,” he told him before finally taking his leave.

The room fell silent, but as soon as the door closed, Max suddenly chuckled to himself, making both Payton and Felix slowly look back at him. A second passed, and Max’s chuckle turned into full-blown laughter.

Felix and Payton watched with confusion as Max continued to laugh like a madman. After letting it all out, his laughter eventually died down. He wiped his tears and composed himself. Then, like a switch was flipped, he looked back at Felix and Payton with a serious, determined expression and asked, “So…how do I apply here exactly?”

|END|

16 | Bottom of The Food Chain

♟

FELIX’S MOUTH WAS WIDE OPEN , and the sound coming from Payton’s inhaler filled the quiet room. As the Omega Society’s remaining members stood in shock, Max walked toward the two and said, “Let me join this club, and I’ll help you gather the recruits that you need.”

Felix couldn’t quite imagine it. The infamous Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, mopping the floors, wiping blood, and even picking up trash for the brotherhoods. It was something that would definitely become the talk of the town, even outside J.S. High.

“No!” Payton instantly opposed. “I will not let a troublemaker like you cause trouble in our club. What if Jokers suddenly ambushed us? Or even worse, gave each of us a jack in—”

“Your club will get dissolved. It does not have an adviser or enough members to keep it standing. If you want to look for another club as your old members did, then be my guest. But currently, I’m your best bet.”

“B-But…why?” Felix asked. “Why all of a sudden?”

Max didn’t answer at once. He remembered the smug look on Dustin’s face earlier. It was a shallow reason, but something about that Elite irked him, and the desire to prove him wrong suddenly became strong.

“He called us janitors like it’s an insult, so let’s fucking be the best janitors in this house,” Max said, and Felix scratched the back of his head and mumbled, “ You called us janitors earlier too. What a hypocrite. “

Payton continued to use his inhaler. After breathing normally, he looked at Max with a more serious expression and told him, “Since I’m the one with the highest year and rank here, I automatically become the club leader. I have the right to decide whether or not we recruit you.”

“That’s where you are mistaken. Club leaders have the power to lead, not to decide such an important thing. I memorized the White Uniform Handbook, and no rule says otherwise. If there is, the adviser would have the final say. But as you can see…” Max paused and moved closer to Payton. “There is no adviser.”

Payton looked straight into Max’s eyes, and for a moment, Max saw an intelligent scholar and not the easily frightened boy he portrayed himself to be.

“Fine, you win this round. But first, let me ask you something. Do you know how to clean, Mr. Sinclaire? Do you even know how to hold a broom? Even though we’re only the Omega Society, we still have standards,” Payton asked mockingly.

Max didn’t answer immediately. He went to the cleaning supplies, grabbed a mop and a broom, then looked back at Payton and Felix. “Okay, where should I clean?”

Payton was surprised by the response. He looked at Felix, and Felix just shrugged, not sure what Max was planning either. But since Max had already started this nonsense, there was no point in ignoring it now.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do. Help us promote the club on Friday. If you’re able to recruit enough members to save us, then we’ll welcome you with open arms.”

…

“I don’t know why he’s so strict. It’s not like your club is so great,” Max commented, instantly making Felix—who was walking beside him down the stairs—glare at him. Max chuckled at the reaction, then looked at his friend and said, “But in all seriousness, your club is the noblest one out there. It takes a lot of character to do what you do. That is why I want to prove to that Dustin guy that there is nothing to be ashamed of when your work is righteous.”

Felix couldn’t believe what Max had just said. He looked at Max with complete admiration. “People say you don’t deserve to be on top, but I feel like they might be wrong. Yesterday too, when Ervin almost hit Ari with your chair, you were more concerned about Ari than what Ervin was saying.”

“Well, it’s nothing special. People should have morals. And I’ve been taught since I was little that I should treat anyone in the company with the same respect I give the chairman,” Max answered. “Well…in most cases,” he mumbled to himself.

“Then your parents must have been amazing people to teach you that,” Felix replied with no hidden intentions, but Max’s expression instantly changed upon hearing the mention of his parents. 

While walking down the stairs, Max avoided Felix’s eyes and looked down and said,  “They didn’t teach me that. They didn’t teach me anything .”

Felix saw Max’s reaction and readied an apology. Before he could speak, he suddenly stumbled three flights down the stairs, falling to the ground and leaving Max stunned. Max ran to Felix’s side to help him, but four students walking behind them aggressively pushed him away.

“Max!” Felix tried to stand, but one of the students shoved himback down and pinned him with a foot on his chest.

Max hit the floor. He looked up at the students. Three of them, including the one pinning Felix, were dwellers, but the one in the middle wore a gold armband: a gaffer.

“Damn, you guys walked so slow. I had to push you so we could finally get off the stairs. Hope that doesn’t bother you,” the gaffer said, looking down at Max with a smirk.

Max clenched his fist in anger, but he didn’t try anything. “N-Not at all. I apologize. We’ll walk faster next time.”

The gaffer’s smirk turned into a grin. He seemed satisfied. When Max tried to stand, the gaffer kicked him in the stomach, sending him back down. Some students saw them, but most only glanced and walked away.

“Oops, my bad. I had to stretch my legs for a second there,” the gaffer said, laughing while his friends laughed with him.

Felix kept trying to stand, but the dweller wouldn’t allow it.

Max held his aching stomach and tried to catch his breath, but the gaffer kicked him again, almost making him vomit.

“No! Please stop!” Felix shouted, but they ignored him.

“Sorry, had to stretch my other leg too,” the gaffer sarcastically apologized as he watched saliva string from Max’s mouth. He squatted in front of Max and grabbed him by the collar. “How does that feel, Sinclaire? Does it hurt? You gonna call your daddy?”

Max didn’t answer. Instead, he glared.

“Scary,” the gaffer mocked. He laughed, stood, and spat on Max for extra measure. “Welcome to the House of Kings,” he finished, finally walking away. The dweller lifted his foot from Felix, and the three left.

“Max! Are you okay?!” Felix asked as soon as he got up. “Can you stand? I’ll bring you to the clinic.” He knelt in front of Max.

Max shook his head and steadied his breathing. “I-It’s okay, I’m fine,” he said, looking at Felix. Felix looked back with worry, but he knew Max wouldn’t go to the clinic even if dragged. So Felix took out his handkerchief and wiped the gaffer’s spit from Max’s coat instead. Then he picked up the peaked cap that had fallen and helped Max put it on.

“Those guys…they’re already starting. And based on their armbands, they’re third-year students too. How could they pick on lower years like us?” Felix asked, helping Max to his feet.

“I can’t believe you endured this for an entire year. If I were you, I would have done everything I could to at least be a dweller,” Max said, but Felix didn’t respond.

“How about you? Are you okay? Did you sprain your leg when you fell?” Max asked. Felix smiled at the concern and shook his head.

“There you are,” someone said. 

The two turned and saw Ari approaching with his hands in his pockets. He was about to speak, but then he saw the footprint on Felix’s chest and Max’s disheveled uniform. He instantly knew what had happened.

Ari sighed and pulled out his own handkerchief. He forced Felix to face him and, without warning, used it to wipe off the footprint stain on Felix’s shirt. The action surprised both Max and Felix.

“ Why do I have to babysit not one, but two fucking serfs? “ Ari whispered to himself, cleaning Felix’s shirt before looking at Max. “Fix your uniform too. Neither of you can be seen looking like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Max asked while fixing his uniform as instructed.

Ari took another deep breath. “President Janus wants to see you.”

Max’s eyes widened, but they didn’t argue. They headed to where they were expected to be with no question. When they arrived, Ari knocked and waited. As soon as they got the go signal, Ari went in first, followed by Max and Felix.

“Good afternoon, President Janus. I brought Max and Felix as requested,” Ari said in a respectful manner, showing Max a taste of what Ari must be like outside J.S. High.

President Janus, who was busy signing papers, looked up and instantly smiled upon seeing the students in front of him. “So this is the other boy my nephew is hanging out with now,” he said with a bright smile, which annoyed Max. He finally realized why they had been called.

“If this is the reason you called us, then we’d better take our leave,” Max said, but Janus didn’t look fazed. 

“The two of you may head out. I’d like to speak with Mr. Sinclaire.”

Max stopped, and both Felix and Ari bowed their heads before leaving. When the door closed, Janus opened a drawer and placed a red velvet jewelry box on top of his desk. Max squinted to get a better look.

“It’s only the second day, but I’m assuming things aren’t going the way you planned,” Janus said, staring at Max’s uniform. Max approached the desk and stared at the box without speaking.

Janus took the box and opened it for Max. Inside was a golden brooch with the Sinclaire family symbol.

“What is that?” Max asked.

“I had this personalized a while back,” Janus answered as he took out the brooch. “I know you don’t want my assistance, but I hope you wear this. It won’t hold any merit for the White Uniforms, but it may help you with the brotherhoods.”

“No,” Max answered without hesitation. “I’m not wearing it. I can handle both the White Uniforms and the brotherhoods on my own without that stupid brooch.”

“Put your fucking pride down, for God’s sake, Max,” Janus said, surprising him. He had never heard his uncle curse at him before. “I’m not doubting your skills, but brotherhoods are a totally different hierarchy. If it makes you feel any better, this brooch isn’t for the brotherhoods themselves, but for their leaders. They’ll know exactly what it is when they see it, while others won’t. This is the least I could do after lying to you before.”

Max stared at the brooch with hesitation. He couldn’t understand it, but putting the brooch on just felt…off. He swore that Janus would have to pin him down before he could wear such a thing, but he remembered that he had already encountered troublesome White Uniforms. What more if he meets the leaders of the House of Kings?

He knew he couldn’t keep pretending he had everything under control. So despite the refusal, he took the brooch from Janus’s palm and pinned it to his collar. “I don’t want to be stubborn anymore, so let me give you my sincere thanks, President Janus,” Max said, placing a hand on his chest before bowing.

Janus nodded and gestured to the door. “Then that will be all. You may join your peculiar friends outside.”

“Peculiar?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow, but Janus didn’t address it, so Max took his leave. Outside, Felix stood a few meters away from Ari, who was leaning on the wall with his arms crossed.

Ari and Felix approached Max as he exited the president’s office. They didn’t need to ask what had been discussed; they immediately noticed the brooch on Max’s collar. Even though they wanted to ask, they kept quiet.

“So, what do we do now?” Max asked. 

Just as Felix readied an answer, the loud bell rang.

Ari smirked and draped an arm around Max’s shoulders before dragging him down the hallway, Felix following right beside them.

“Before we think about anything else, you should get ready. We’re about to witness the castle’s biggest event,” Ari told him.

Max furrowed his brows. “What do you mean? What event?”

Felix and Ari looked at each other, then back at Max, and said in unison, “Lunch break.”

|END|

17 | Lunchtime Madness

♟

ARI, FELIX, AND MAX approached the Great Hall, also known as the cafeteria. They hadn’t even reached the hall yet, but they could already hear the noise coming from inside.

“We should hurry before they arrive,” Ari said, once again pulling Max with him while his arm stayed around Max’s shoulders. Max might have thought of it as a normal gesture, but Ari was actually doing it so no one would bother Max, especially when the entire student body was in the Great Hall, the perfect place to humiliate someone.

The Great Hall was large enough to accommodate all the students of the House of Kings. Rows of long tables filled the hall, and each table was unofficially claimed by specific groups. There were also two opposite balconies, one at the entrance and one at the end of the hall. For visualization, imagine a basketball court, but instead of hoops, place balconies.

“Those are brotherhood flags,” Max said as the three arrived at the noisy cafeteria. Students who spotted them began whispering, probably because they finally got to see Max in the flesh—and he even had a serf’s armband on.

Max stared at the banners hanging from the balconies. Four hung from one balcony, while the King’s and the Prince’s banners were on the other.

“I’m guessing these four are friends, while the Kings and the Princes are like the popular kids you can’t sit with at lunch,” Max said, eyes still on the banners.

“Okay, here’s the thing. The Kings (Busters) and the Princes (PHD) are said to be old friends. They’re the only brotherhoods here where all the members are seniors—except for Dangerous Five, a subunit of PHD that consists of third-years. But that’s another story,” Ari explained.

“Then there’s the Dukes (BND) and the Marquis (Crazy 8). They’re the classy ones and the most respected brotherhoods in all the houses. They aren’t exactly friends, but they’re on good terms,” Felix added.

They reached an empty table, AKA Ari’s table. Since he became a gaffer, no one dared take it.

“And then there’s the Counts (Cigarettes) and the Barons (Jokers), right? After the stunt they pulled during the assembly, it’s safe to say they’re close,” Max said as Ari finally let go of him.

The three sat, the surrounding students returning to their business. Max sat beside Felix while Ari sat across from them.

“Jokers and Cigarettes don’t have any public beef with each other, but that doesn’t mean they’re friends either. Most of the time, their underlings fight, and that’s when trouble arrives,” Ari said.

While they talked, waiters arrived with pushcarts stacked with dishes you’d only find in five-star restaurants. They handed food to each table, weaving around students who ran through the hall.

“This is seriously an interesting school. Who would have thought brotherhoods would be possible? And look at the students. Imagine the power a single rule could have on a person’s class,” Max said as a waiter politely set down their plates.

“Can you blame them? The rules of the houses free us from the standards society forces on us. It’s expected they’d act this way,” Ari said, and both Felix and Max couldn’t agree more.

They began eating amid the din. But as they tried to find some inner peace, the noise slowly died, and a faint melody rose in the background. Eventually, the entire cafeteria went silent.

Max set his spoon down and looked at Ari and Felix, confused. “ What the hell is that? “ he whispered.

Ari grinned. “Looks like we’re about to begin,” he said, pointing to a student standing in front of a table. Max leaned for a better view. There, he noticed the jack-in-the-box on the tabletop.

Students started stomping their feet and banging their fists on the tables to match the box’s cranking tune. When the song ended, Jack popped out with a black card attached. The student took the card with a shaking hand:

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/66dea57a16220e04ac52837e883ab7dc44270391/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5f416933504178504854443042413d3d2d313032353031383533372e313839616331316363366231336431333630393139343338363433392e706e67)               

“N-No, this can’t be happening. What did I do?!” he shouted, panicking, and the students laughed at his reaction.

White Uniforms near him were Jokers’ underlings. When they stood, the trembling boy didn’t hesitate…

…he ran for his life, his screams echoing as he made his way to the exit.

“What was that about?” Max asked immediately.

Ari looked delighted. It seemed as though this part was his favorite.

“Maximilian Sinclaire, I present to you…The Brotherhood Customs. “

Felix, busy slicing his steak, explained without looking up. “There’s a code that protects students: the White Uniform Protection Code . It protects us from being targeted, bullied, or harmed by brotherhoods without a ‘valid’ reason. The brotherhood custom gave them that reason.”

“W-wait, I’m confused. Brotherhoods can’t actually do anything to White Uniforms, but because of this thing called brotherhood customs, they can? How did President Janus agree to this?” Max asked. He couldn’t believe such a thing was allowed.

Felix took a bite, then looked at Max. “The crazy person who proposed it was Viktor Stepanov. We don’t know exactly when, but we heard he gave a full presentation to the Brotherhood Association officers. He was that determined.”

“That’s right,” Ari said after a sip of tea. “He slapped them with all the loopholes he found in the Brotherhood and White Uniform handbooks and proposed the customs. Viktor made sure they couldn’t say no.”

“Brotherhood customs reformed the entire concept of the brotherhoods,” Felix finished. “That’s why Viktor and his brotherhood are respected and feared. The only safe thing about it is that brotherhoods can’t do anything outside their custom.”

“So that box gig is Jokers’ custom?” Max asked.

“That’s right. It’s the Jacks-in-the-box custom . If you’re on their bad side, Jokers will give you that box, and you’ll be ‘pranked’ for an entire day, which is just another word for torment. And it’s not Jokers who directly prank you, but their underlings—the Jacks. That’s one loophole they found. Since there’s no rule protecting White Uniforms from each other thanks to our ranking system, they use their underlings instead,” Ari explained, while Max nodded along, processing every word.

“Their leader, Master Joker, started this custom. It’s why Jacks act so privileged,” Felix said, making Max remember Ervin Walker, who talked badly about his mother on their first day.

Soon after, brotherhoods began arriving. First to make an appearance are Jokers and Charles Justin Mills’s brotherhood, the Cigarettes. Their underlings stood to greet them while other students ignored them.

“Speak of the devil,” Ari said as the three watched the two brotherhoods enter the noisy Great Hall. White Uniforms moved aside as they headed to the balcony.

The atmosphere shifted with their presence alone. They might have been the two lowest-ranking brotherhoods in the House of Kings, but they were still two of the top six out of thirty.

“Where the hell is Uriel Roberts?!” someone shouted from the balcony, drawing every eye.

Charles Justin Mills, CJ, glared down at the students. Soon, a boy wearing a dog collar ran up to the balcony with a stack of R-rated magazines. He looked exhausted and was nearly covered in mud. Who knew what he’d been through?

“No way. Someone made a deal this early?” Ari asked, and Felix shook his head, disappointed.

One Cigarettes member threw the magazines at the boy, and the boy crouched to pick them up. As soon as he knelt, another member kicked him, and both brotherhoods on the balcony laughed.

“What happened to him? Did he receive a cigarette this time?” Max asked seriously, making Ari and Felix laugh.

“No. That’s the Tobacco Deal , and those deals are usually as bad as getting lung cancer. Cigarettes make all kinds of deals. A popular one is about grades. Failing your subjects leads to expulsion, and not all heirs are smart. So they make deals. Cigarettes tweak things and ‘magically’ give you an A, but the payment is twice as much. They can also give merit points to students who can’t handle the pressure of low rankings,” Ari said, scooping mashed potatoes.

“The other thing that makes CJ powerful is that he created the concept of underlings. He’s the one who proposed it to the association,” Felix added, shocking Max.

“Lighters…that’s what they call them. And the four best underlings are the Ashes. Cigarettes take pride in their underlings, which is why their motto is…” Ari pointed his spoon toward Max.

“You cannot use a cigarette without a lighter,” Felix and Ari recited in unison.

Max took a sip of tea. It was unbelievable that so much of what defined brotherhoods had been created by the leaders of the House of Kings. No wonder his uncle was cautious.

“You become their homeboy, and how long you stay one depends on the deal you strike. I may be a serf, but I’d rather receive the Jack-in-the-box than make a Tobacco Deal,” Felix said, and Max could only sip his tea in amused disbelief.

After Jokers and Cigarettes stirred things up, another brotherhood entered. Students near the entrance started cheering, drawing everyone’s attention.

The Dukes, Boys Next Door, finally arrived. BND members entered with smiles, waving to the crowd like they were at a fan meet rather than lunch. Students stood to glimpse them, but Max kept eating.

Krist, better known as Master Joker, leaned over the balustrade. “Oh, Hans! You’re so handsome!” he teased. CJ joined him and shouted, “Let’s take a picture, Hans!”

Jokers and Cigarettes laughed, but Hans, with his brotherhood, ignored them and continued to wave.

“Other than being the third most powerful brotherhood, BND is also the most respected, especially their leader, Hans. They’re also the only brotherhood without customs. Their underlings, the Roses, are said to be well-mannered too, which is why it’s rumored there are only about fifteen,” Ari explained, even though Max hadn’t asked. Still, Max wanted to know more about his brother’s brotherhood.

“They also have only one junior member. When the six seniors graduate, the chosen Roses are expected to replace them,” Felix added.

Marcus spotted Max in the crowd but said nothing as BND joined Cigarettes and Jokers on the balcony. The noise from their area quieted the rest of the hall.

“Alright, is that our last commercial break, or are we meeting Crazy 8 too? Because I don’t think I can handle more of that,” Max said.

“Like I told you, Crazy 8 is mysterious. Usually, their leader, Siren, does the talking, but no one really sees their faces. Even at major events, they keep their masks on. They do have a custom, though: the Kiss Mark ,” Ari said, and Max almost hit his head on the table from the sheer amount of information.

“Jacks-in-the-box, Tobacco Deal, and now Kiss Mark. Don’t tell me a random guy walks up and kisses the hell out of you,” Max said, shoveling peas in frustration.

“Actually, we don’t know how it happens. A student just…receives it. Light pink means good things will come to you; red means the opposite. No one knows how Crazy 8 chooses targets. I think last year only three received a kiss mark, and all were dark red,” Felix said. 

Just as Max was about to ask another question regarding the kiss marks, trumpets sounded throughout the Great Hall.

“What now?” Max asked, exasperated. Instead of an answer, all the White Uniforms stood, including Felix and Ari. Max would’ve been an idiot not to follow, so he stood too.

“ Let me guess, it’s the Royals? “ Max whispered as everyone faced the entrance. Only then did he notice the red carpet leading to the opposite balcony.

“Max, I don’t want to be nosy, but I think the main reason your uncle gave you that brooch is for one reason and one reason only…” Ari said as they stared at the entrance. No one spoke as a menacing man in a black uniform stepped inside. Ari swallowed and glanced at Max, voice low. “ It’s probably because of them .“

|END|

18 | The Royal Trouble

♟

“ GIVE RESPECT TO THE ROYALS,“ a low voice announced, and like what had happened at the stadium during the assembly, all the White Uniforms bowed. Max, annoyed at the fact that he had to do such a thing, slowly bowed his head as well.

PHD headed inside first with Kim Hee-joon walking in front. Behind him were his Hot Wingmen, then the Pretty Duo, followed by the Dangerous Five.

Unlucky for Max, Ari, and Felix, their seat was right beside the aisle. Max tried his best not to look up as he caught a glimpse of the princes walking past him. But as he kept his head low, he saw a pair of boots stop in front of him. Max slowly looked up and was surprised to see one of the members of Dangerous Five staring at him from head to toe.

As soon as Max’s eyes met his, the prince forcefully pushed Max’s head down, making him bow even lower. “Does your back hurt? Can’t you even bow properly? Huh, peasant?”

Max’s eyes widened from shock as his peaked cap fell off. He couldn’t say anything. He tried to look up, but the prince pushed him down even lower.

The students around Max trembled in fear. The atmosphere turned bad, so another prince approached to calm the first one down, specifically, Ren Adachi, who had helped Max find his class before.

“Now that’s not very polite, Wang Jun . Let go of the serf’s head,” Ren stated, and without hesitation, the prince named Jun let go of Max.

Max slowly straightened. Ren stepped in front of him and curtsied, and before he took his leave, he moved closer and said, “But as a form of respect for our system, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, do bow properly next time.”

“Or how about I just shove his head on the ground so we can teach him some manners?” another prince suggested, draping his arm around Ren.

The members of PHD crowded around Max, making both Felix and Ari gulp in fear for their friend’s well-being. Soon after, their leader, Kim Hee-joon, joined them, and the rest of PHD moved away to give him space. Hee-joon stared at Max from head to toe with cold, empty eyes.

While the White Uniforms kept bowing, Marcus was being pinned to the table by their leader, Hans. When Wang Jun shoved Max’s head earlier, Marcus almost ran down from the balcony to help him. Thankfully, BND held him down and covered his mouth. They knew that getting involved with the Royals was out of the question.

Hee-joon continued to stare at Max before finally speaking. “What did you guys even expect from a child who was raised by a devil? Now let him be. I’m starving.” Hee-joon insulted.

Knowing full well how Max would react, Ari’s heart tightened in an instant. He wanted to stop Max, but as soon as PHD’s leader turned his back on them, Max grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing the prince to face him again.

PHD were surprised by the sudden action. One of Hee-joon’s right-hand men was about to punch Max for touching their leader, but Hee-joon lifted his hand, signaling them not to do anything.

Hee-joon stared at Max, and for a second, his bored expression shifted to amusement. “Were you bothered by what I said? Why? Your mother was cruel; everyone knows that. She was so evil that someone even killed her. You should be thankful she got killed later than anyone expected. At least you had more time to be with her,” Hee-joon said without a hint of emotion. He knew this would trigger Max, and he was right.

Max’s rational thinking left him. Everything about status and rules went out the window as he grabbed the princes’ leader by the neck. All the students finally stood straight, eyes wide with shock and disbelief as they saw Max strangling a prince.

Max’s hand trembled with anger as he stared down at Hee-joon without saying a word.

“Scary,” the prince thought to himself, not even trying to push Max off.

Ari wanted to do something, but his body wouldn’t let him. Both Max and Hee-joon’s presence was too strong. He didn’t have the courage to get in between them.

Max’s hold tightened to the point where Hee-joon was already having trouble breathing. But before things could get worse, someone grabbed a fistful of Max’s hair and effortlessly pulled him away from the prince. The hold was so painful that Max thought the hair would be torn from his scalp.

Ari and Felix gasped when they saw who it was. In an instant, everyone bowed again—lower this time.

The man finally let go of Max’s hair. Max turned around quickly, only to see the King himself, Viktor Stepanov, standing right in front of him with a sadistic grin.

“Whoa there, White Uniform. I find you amusing, but you’re not allowed to touch my Prince like that,” Viktor said, removing the strands of hair caught between his fingers. He snapped his fingers, and Busters approached at once. One went to his side as Viktor started removing the black leather glove from his left hand.

“You know what? I’ve always been curious about you. When I heard you were going to enroll in my house, I couldn’t help myself. I felt…delighted,” he said, finally removing his glove.

Max said nothing and stared straight into Viktor’s eyes. Viktor’s grin widened when he realized Max wasn’t afraid. So without hesitation, Viktor balled his hand into a fist, ready to punch. Even if Max wanted to act tough, he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, expecting impact.

Max felt a breeze touch his cheek, but nothing happened after. Instead of a punch, laughter echoed through the painfully quiet Great Hall.

Max slowly opened his eyes and saw Viktor laughing like he’d heard the best joke of his life. The laughter went on for a while before Viktor calmed down. He then stared at Max’s chest, and for a second Max thought he’d seen the necklace. But it wasn’t the jewelry that caught his attention. It was the brooch attached to Max’s collar.

“That sly old man. He always has a solution to these things. The fact that he gave you the Sinclaire brooch is impressive. I’ll hand him that,” he said, slipping his glove back on and lifting his hands as if surrendering.

“Looks like your uncle gave you a protective shield. It’s kinda cute, but I can’t go against authority,” he added almost mockingly.

“The President has his favorites. I’m a little jealous,” another member of Busters said, making the other kings laugh.

Max clenched his fists in anger and embarrassment. As the Busters continued to laugh at him, he reached for his collar to remove the brooch, but Viktor snapped his fingers. His brotherhood fell silent, and Max stopped.

“Oh, little boy. If I were you, I’d keep that on,” he told Max. “Without that, you might suddenly disappear. But then again, you’re a Lemieux, so disappearing won’t be new to you.” He smirked, and Max clenched his fist even harder, hurting himself.

“Don’t act like your clan didn’t face the same fate,” Max blurted out. 

At the mere mention of his clan, Viktor’s aura changed in an instant. Max knew then that Viktor wasn’t going to play nice anymore.

“If it wasn’t for my clan’s demise, you wouldn’t even be where you are now, Sinclaire.”

“Should I be thankful then?” Max asked, and Viktor stepped closer and whispered, “ You should be bowing…like the rest of your dead ancestors .“

When Viktor stepped away, he picked up Max’s peaked cap from the floor. “Don’t get me wrong, Sinclaire. I can think of different ways to hurt you, even with that stupid brooch on. I can hurt you in so many ways you couldn’t imagine, but I won’t. You know why?” he asked while brushing dirt off the cap.

Max said nothing as Viktor gently placed the peaked cap back on his head. Then Viktor looked at the students in the Great Hall and declared, “Because I’m a good King!”

Viktor’s voice echoed, making students flinch. He walked to the center and continued, “I am a generous King! A patient King! A merciful King!”

The students standing close to Viktor trembled as he looked at them one by one, as if searching for anyone who might disagree. When no one dared defy him, Viktor looked back at Max and pointed at him with a slender index finger. “And you…Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire…aren’t even allowed to step foot in my throne room. So know your place here and know who you’re speaking to before I rip your pathetic tongue out.”

Everyone fell silent.

Viktor was breathing heavily after his spontaneous speech. It was obvious he had lost his cool, so Kim Hee-joon approached and gently touched his shoulder, and Viktor calmed at once.

“Don’t waste your breath on a serf. Let’s wrap this up now, Vi,” Hee-joon told him.

Viktor’s dark aura vanished. He took a deep breath, fixed his uniform, and looked back at Max with a grin, like nothing had happened. “Oops. I apologize, but my Prince is getting impatient. This was a good chat. I’ll see you around…White Uniform,” Viktor finished before finally walking away with his Prince.

The rest of the Royals followed. When they reached their balcony, all the students went back to normal…except Max, who was left standing in the middle of the aisle like a lost child.

Ari composed himself and grabbed Max’s arm. “We should go,” he said, pulling Max out of the Great Hall with Felix, who was equally terrified.

Max couldn’t say anything as Ari continued to pull him away.

For the first time in many years, Max felt pure anger. But at the same time, he felt shame and fear, and feeling such embarrassing emotions after facing Viktor Stepanov was a slap to his arrogant face. It showed how far he truly was from where Viktor stood.

His uncle had warned him, their homeroom teacher had warned him, and even his brother, a member of the third-strongest brotherhood, had warned him about crossing paths with the Kings. Max had thought they were mere warnings, but now he understood that wasn’t the case at all.

Viktor wasn’t like the rest of them. He wasn’t just an heir who wanted to prove himself. He was on a whole different level. 

That cruel realization made Max understand what he now had to do. He could claim the Lemieux name as much as he wanted, but it would all be for nothing if he didn’t face Viktor as an equal.

Max pulled his hand away from Ari. Ari and Felix stopped, staring at him with pity—and pity was the last thing Max wanted.

“Just wait and see, Viktor Stepanov…” Max suddenly declared, turning to look at Busters’ flag that was hanging from the ceiling. “I will reach you. I will conquer the brotherhoods, become the Elites’ president, and face you as a Lemieux like how our old families faced each other in the past. And when that time comes, it will be your turn to feel that agitating terror.”

…

The Great Hall went back to normal after what had happened with Max and the Royals. The White Uniforms wanted to talk about it, but no one dared mention anything, knowing Viktor was right above them.

The other brotherhoods also kept their mouths shut. Not because of Viktor, but out of respect for Marcus, who was silently eating with his wrists red from being pinned down earlier. Even the usual troublemakers, Jokers and Cigarettes, said nothing. They knew where to draw the line, and mentioning what had happened to Marcus’s little brother would cause more trouble.

The Royals, on the other hand, were as lively as ever. They chatted and laughed. Some even ran around like kids. But as PHD and Busters minded their own business, Viktor, who was sitting alone with Hee-joon, sliced the tuna on his plate and said, “You’re lucky President Rothman wasn’t here, my Prince. Remember, outside matters are forbidden, which means mentioning that White Uniform’s dead mother was out of line.”

Hee-joon chuckled and looked at Viktor, whose eyes were focused on his plate. “So you’re lecturing me now? That’s new.”

“As a member of the Royals, you should know where you stand as well. If we can’t even follow the rules, then those below us won’t follow them either,” Viktor said, making Hee-joon roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Don’t act like you didn’t do the same. You lost composure earlier, which means you’re still weak. Remember, Vi, that boy is—”

“I know,” Viktor said, slamming his knife down, instantly making Busters and PHD stop talking so they could look their way.

As the chatter from the White Uniforms continued below, Viktor slowly looked up at Hee-joon. He stared with his deadly grey eyes and clenched the knife as he said again, “I fucking know.”

|END|

19 | Make A Mess

♟

MAX STARED AT HIMSELF in the mirror. He reached for the brooch his uncle had given him, remembering his embarrassing encounter with Viktor. He wanted to remove it out of shame, but he didn’t have the guts to do so. Instead, he pulled out his necklace with the L initial and took a deep breath, as if he were about to make the most difficult decision of his life.

“I’m not worthy to wear you,” he said, finally removing it.

“Yet,” he immediately added before putting the necklace back in its jewelry box.

After his encounter with Viktor, Max realized he had been too ambitious in wearing the necklace. He knew the only time he would be able to wear the necklace would be the time he no longer felt the need to hide it. He wouldn’t be afraid to flaunt it anymore. He would wear that necklace and proudly put it on with pride instead of hiding it inside his shirt. And when that time comes, he would be ready to face Viktor as an equal.

“Max? Can we talk?” Marcus asked from outside Max’s room.

Max immediately put the jewelry box inside the drawer before saying, “Come in.”

Marcus opened the door and spotted Max standing in front of a full-body mirror. “You haven’t changed your clothes yet?” he asked when he saw his brother still wearing his full uniform.

“What do you need?” Max asked instead, even though he already had a hunch about why Marcus wanted to talk to him. It was obvious it would be about his encounter with Viktor and the rest of the Royals.

Marcus cleared his throat and stood behind his brother. “I heard you joined the Omega Society,” he said instead, surprising Max because that wasn’t what he expected him to say.

Max turned around and faced Marcus with a furrowed brow. “What?” he asked, and Marcus approached him and reached for the buckle on the belt across Max’s chest. While he removed it for him, Marcus explained, “I heard from someone that you’re planning to join the Omega Society.”

“Who is this someone you’re referring to?” Max asked, and Marcus slowly pulled the belt off Max. He then looked straight into his eyes and said, “That’s not important. What’s important is that you’re planning to join a club that is—”

“You can’t talk me out of it. I’m planning to join that club whether you like it or not,” Max insisted, snatching his belt from Marcus’s hand and moving away.

Marcus looked back at Max, who was facing the mirror again. “I’m not planning to talk you out of it. I just wanted to say that you have to work hard if you want to recruit new members. The Alpha and Beta Societies are the clubs with the most recruits out of all the clubs in J.S. High, so if you don’t want your club to dissolve, I suggest you do things differently.”

“Let me guess, that someone who told you about me wanting to join the Omega Society is the same someone who told you about the club’s situation,” Max assumed as he unbuttoned his coat.

“That someone does not concern you.”

Max looked straight into his eyes with suspicion upon hearing his answer. “Is it because it’s Ari? The gaffer, who was very friendly with a serf like me on the first day, and at the same time is the same guy who just so happens to know we’re siblings. Is he the someone you’re referring to?”

Marcus didn’t say anything, so Max took his coat off and dropped it on the floor before looking at his brother to address his initial suggestion. “Then what am I supposed to do? How will I do things differently when I don’t even know the norm?”

“How?” Marcus asked, walking close to pat his brother’s head. “I can’t tell you how. I can’t tell you anything. You have to figure it out on your own, little brother. But then again, you’re Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. You can do anything if you put your mind to it.”

Max looked at his brother with confusion, but after a second, he chuckled to himself and said, “Someone told me the exact same thing. But thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Marcus smiled and nodded, making Max smile too. Marcus might not have said it, but Max knew why he was really there. He didn’t mention it so as not to step on Max’s ego any further than what Viktor did, but Marcus wanted to comfort him in his own little way.

“Anyway, good luck with your club. Clubs are one of the biggest sources of merit points. If you can strengthen your club, you’ll have a stable source of points. And I don’t know if this will encourage you or not, but I’m proud you decided to join the Omega Society. A lot of students look down on them, but we brotherhoods, rely on the Omegas just as much as the other societies. I hope you think about that,” Marcus said with determination, making Max see him more as a respected brotherhood member than a goofy older brother.

“Well, that’s all I have to say. Dinner’s ready,” Marcus finished, walking toward the door to take his leave. As soon as he grabbed the doorknob, Max clenched his fist and immediately told him, “I know you’re being thoughtful for my sake since it seems like you’re not planning to mention what happened with the Royals earlier, but I just want to tell you that I won’t let it happen again. I won’t worry you anymore. I promise you that.”

Marcus didn’t answer, but he smiled and finally left the room. Because even if Max didn’t say it, Marcus saw the determination in his eyes, and that determination was enough for Marcus to believe that starting today, his brother would only walk towards one path. And that’s victory.

…

“Okay, the first thing we have to do is print some fliers. But before that, let’s head to the booths in the courtyard to see what we can do about it. Payton is already waiting for us there,” Felix said as he and Max walked down the corridors of the Hall of Terra.

They headed to the courtyard where the other booths were placed. Different tents were lined up, and music could be heard in different directions. Each club prepared different gimmicks, but the loudest and flashiest were at the back: the Alpha, Beta, and Omega Society tents.

“The presentation is on Friday, but they’re already this prepared,” Felix commented as they walked past Chess Club, which had human-sized chess pieces at their booth.

“Well, more members mean more budget. More budget means more activities, equipment, and other things they’ll need to help rank themselves up,” Max said as they headed toward the societies.

Dozens of students were at the Alpha Society booth. They had a large television at the back showing videos of brotherhood battles from past years. There were also photos of past club members who were now in brotherhoods. One famous ex-member, though, was…

“ Leo Underwood . The only third-year student in BND. He was a member of the Alpha Society before he got recruited to be a Rose, and later on became an official member of the Brotherhood. They’re the only club here that managed to have someone become a Brotherhood member at the House of Kings. It’s actually very impressive,“ Felix explained, surprising Max.

“Then they’re tough competition. They’ll use Leo Underwood’s name until it rots. Maybe even use the slogan, ’ You too can be a Duke like Leo Underwood ’! Isn’t that right?” Max said with a sarcastic tone, making Felix laugh out loud.

The two then walked past the Beta Society, which had different kinds of weapons on display. Compared to Alpha Society’s loud booth, Beta Society had a more relaxed and serious atmosphere.

“And here we are. Home sweet home,” Felix said as they arrived at the Omega Society booth, where Payton was assembling a foldable table.

“Please don’t tell me we’re going to put mops and brooms on display?” Max asked genuinely as he and Felix approached Payton.

Payton stood as soon as they approached. “Good, you’re here. Help me with this table so we can place the brochures,” he told them.

“Brochures? What is this, a travel agency? The freshmen won’t even look at this booth with how bland it is,” Max said.

Payton couldn’t even react because, deep down, he knew Max was right. Instead of getting mad, he adjusted his glasses and said, “Fine. Since we already made a deal about you joining the club if you successfully recruit someone, let’s put you in charge. What do you suggest we do?”

“But please do consider our budget, Max. We barely have enough credits to ask for a bigger room, so getting materials might be a problem,” Felix added.

Max pressed his lips together and crossed his arms, thinking of different ways to help them. He glanced at Alpha’s booth, then at Beta’s. Right after that, he remembered Marcus’s words of encouragement last night.

“A lot of students look down on them, but we brotherhoods, rely on the Omegas just as much as the other societies. “ Those were the words Marcus had uttered to him last night. 

Max thought long and hard, repeating the words over and over again until an idea eventually presented itself.

“Payton, can you tell me the exact goals and duties of the Omega Society?” Max asked.

Payton wasn’t expecting the question, but he composed himself and said, “Well, the sole duty of this society is to clean the mess created by the different brotherhoods of this house. Not just after battles, but after they perform their customs as well.”

“Clean the mess…” Max thought about it again. “Cleaning the mess isn’t always literal, right?” Max asked.

Payton and Felix looked at him, confused, since it had always been literal to them. So Max moved closer and explained, “Brotherhoods need us just as much as they need the other societies, and the reason isn’t that we’re good at sweeping and mopping the floors. It’s because brotherhoods don’t always make a mess in the way this club has portrayed.”

“What are you implying?” Payton asked, arms crossed.

Max looked around at the other booths before looking back at Payton and Felix. “We’re going to incorporate the brotherhood customs.”

“What?!” Felix and Payton shouted in unison, making almost all the students near them look their way.

Payton, who almost took out his inhaler, grabbed Max’s arm and pulled him close. “Are you crazy? Why the hell would we do that? What does incorporating brotherhood customs have to do with our club?”

“Everything! You said it yourself. The duty of the Omega Society is to clean the mess after they perform their customs. People always thought ‘mess’ means literal dirt, but I don’t think that’s the case. Imagine this: Jokers get their target. A prank went wrong, and the white uniform ended up heavily injured. What do we do?” Max asked.

Felix and Payton looked at each other before answering in unison, “We clean?”

“Wrong!” Max shouted, tapping both of their heads. “This is the problem. You’ve degraded the meaning of this club into literal janitors. If Jokers accidentally do something against their custom…” Max paused, grabbed Felix’s and Payton’s shoulders, and whispered, “ We make sure there’s no evidence so they won’t get in trouble .“

“W-What?” Payton looked at Max, shocked.

Max let go of the two and grinned. “Our rules bend because of brotherhood customs, but there are things that may go overboard, and that’s when we come in. A student might get badly injured, so as ‘cleaners’ we take care of the CCTV, the witnesses, the blood—everything. We have to show the freshmen how dangerous being in this club is. That’s why brotherhoods need us.”

Felix and Payton were left speechless. They had never thought of it that way before. All they’d been doing was mopping and picking up trash. Their purpose never changed.

“A-Alright, if that’s the case, how are we going to showcase the customs? We barely have enough budget to rent a TV like Alpha Society,” Payton said, nervous.

Max stared at their empty booth. Seconds later, he smirked and mumbled to himself, “ Marcus wants different? Then I’ll fucking give him different. “

“Max?” Felix called out.

Max immediately looked back at the two of them and said, “Get me newspapers, garbage bags, and some red paint. We’re going to put on a show no one will ever forget.”

|END|

20 | Brotherhood Week

♟

FRIDAY HAD FINALLY ARRIVED , and the long-awaited club presentation was about to begin. White Uniforms were busy finalizing their preparations as freshman students got ready to visit the clubs they were interested in. But while everyone was busy with their clubs, the brotherhoods, who weren’t allowed to join clubs, wasted time while waiting for the bell to ring.

All the senior members of the brotherhoods, whether they liked it or not, were classmates. They shared the same room, Class IV-Kings, found at the Hall of Janus.

Krist, who was sitting at the far back with Brave, stared at Busters playing around at the front. Busters were the only brotherhood in the House of Kings where all the members were seniors, so it was natural that they dominated their classroom too.

“Why are they fucking holding us up here? It’s Brotherhood Week, and we’re not even allowed to walk around campus. Does that even make any sense?” Krist asked Brave, who was busy playing games on his phone.

While Krist and Brave were minding their own business, someone suddenly called the Jokers’ leader out. 

“MJ!” an annoying voice shouted.

Krist looked up and saw Charles Justin Mills walking toward him with two other members of Cigarettes.

“What did your brotherhood prepare for the Welcome Ball tonight?” CJ asked as he sat on the desk beside Krist’s spot.

Krist didn’t bother to look at CJ anymore as he started watching the game Brave was playing. “We’re Jokers. When did we ever join any of the school’s events?” he asked, making CJ nod in agreement.

“Good point. But you should still attend. After all, that boy might be there,” CJ told him, and Krist slowly lifted his head, making CJ smirk. “You might want to thank him for donating a hundred thousand dollars to your first battle. You should make it clear that you’re very grateful for it.”

Krist didn’t say anything, but Marcus, who overheard their conversation, immediately stood from his seat to look at Krist with a deadly glare. The sudden drop in the atmosphere made everyone in the room look their way. Even Viktor and Hee-joon were watching.

“Sit down,” Hans, BND’s leader, commanded. But Marcus ignored him and walked toward Krist like he hadn’t heard a thing. Krist got ready to defend himself, but Marcus faced CJ instead and said, “May I ask what you meant by that?”

The men behind CJ got ready to push Marcus away, but CJ lifted his hand to stop them. He looked back at Marcus and smirked. “Oh yeah, we have a protective big brother here. What’s wrong? You scared we’d do something to your little Max?”

Marcus couldn’t contain himself, so he grabbed CJ by the collar in anger. The members of Cigarettes got ready to attack, but Hans and the rest of BND immediately stood from their seats as well, instantly making them pause. After all, BND were still the Dukes, and Cigarettes were clearly outnumbered in this classroom.

“Touch him once, and you’ll lose a finger. Touch him twice, and you’ll lose a hand,” Marcus warned, not letting go of CJ even though Hans was already telling him to.

CJ, who didn’t look threatened, smiled at Marcus and answered, “Lose a finger, you say? I think I can manage that.”

“You son of a—” Marcus got ready to throw a punch, but someone immediately grabbed his fist to stop him. Marcus turned his head and was surprised by who it was. It wasn’t their leader, Hans, or even Viktor or Hee-joon. The one who had grabbed his fist so effortlessly was none other than Crazy 8’s leader, Siren.

“Have you no shame? Fighting in front of the Royals like that is out of the question. If you want to fight each other, pull their banner and declare war. That is how you settle things here,” Siren said with a feminine yet dominating voice.

Marcus slowly pulled his hand away from CJ and took a deep breath. “I apologize,” he said. Then he looked at Busters and PHD, who had been watching, and respectfully bowed. “I apologize for my rude behavior. I’ll be careful next time.”

Viktor, whose arm was draped around Hee-joon, nodded to acknowledge the apology. When Marcus got back to his seat, Viktor looked at CJ and told him, “I know you’re good at manipulating people, but if you want to cause unnecessary trouble, you don’t have to get others involved. You and your brotherhood already do that without any effort.”

CJ clenched his fists in anger after hearing Viktor’s comment, but he said nothing and walked back to his seat as well. Viktor then looked at Krist and added, “And you. I hope you’re not easily manipulated. You may be tough, but you’re gullible.”

Krist got ready to stand, but Brave—no longer holding his phone—grabbed him by the arm to calm his leader down.

Everyone in the room stayed quiet. After a couple of minutes, their homeroom teacher, Alisa Armstrong, entered the room and said, “Good morning, brotherhoods.”

All the brotherhoods stood to greet her. As they prepared to sit, Alisa immediately announced, “I won’t take up much of your time. I’d usually tell you to continue your preparations for your presentation tonight, but President Janus just announced something to us earlier. He’s giving you permission to head to the courtyard and check the booths.”

“What?!” the brotherhoods blurted in shock. They had never been allowed to do that before.

“But before you go, I want to remind you all of the White Uniform Protection Code. You are not allowed to touch any of the students or ruin any of their booths. President Ian will also be on the lookout, so please, do not embarrass me,” Alisa told the whole class.

“Understood, Ms. Alisa,” Viktor answered on everyone’s behalf.

Soon after, the bell rang, signaling that the club presentations had started.

“Be back at the stadium after your lunch break so you can finalize your preparations for tonight’s Welcome Ball. Now scram,” Alisa commanded, and all of them bowed to her again and took their leave.

Krist and Brave went out last, so when they left their classroom, they were welcomed by four of the junior members of Jokers. “Master Joker,” they greeted, and Krist nodded to acknowledge them.

“Looks like we’re about to have a lot of fun. Do you want us to put stink bombs around the courtyard? Or maybe toy snakes, just to scare the White Uniforms a little?” Rome, their youngest, suggested.

While Jokers walked down the hall, Krist sighed and said, “We’re not allowed to ruin the booths. I don’t want us to get in trouble because of that. And besides, I was already scolded enough.”

Rome and the rest of Jokers looked back at their leader with confused expressions. “What do you mean by that? Did something happen?” Van asked, and Krist just clenched his fist in irritation instead of answering.

Jokers soon arrived at the courtyard with the rest of the brotherhoods. The White Uniforms couldn’t believe they were there, so the clubs instantly started going full out in hopes of getting noticed.

“Wow, this looks like a carnival,” Brave said as he stared at the different booths. He then looked back at Krist and said, “We should use this as an opportunity to recruit more underlings, since we don’t have a presentation tonight. Who knows, maybe we can find a gem in the rust.” The rest of Jokers nodded in agreement.

“Please, don’t mind us. Pretend we’re invisible,” Jokers suddenly heard Hans say as they walked past the Literature Club. Students were swarming around them, and the attention annoyed Krist.

“What’s so special about those guys anyway?” Krist asked.

“For starters, they’re good-looking,” Brave said, already busy tasting food from the Cooking Club as he stuffed his mouth with cookies.

Krist looked at Brave with disgust and pulled him away from the Cooking Club. As he was pulled away, Brave grabbed a handful of other snacks, and the Cooking Club members couldn’t even scold him because of how scared they were.

The rest of the jesters laughed at their senior brother.

“Seriously, we’re asked not to ruin their booths. That means we’re not allowed to finish all the food they prepared for the first years either,” Krist said, and Brave just shoved more cookies in his mouth and smiled, ignoring what their leader just said.

The members of Jokers continued their stroll in peace, but as soon as they walked past the Broadcasting Club, someone grabbed Krist’s shoulder. The Jokers raised their guard, but when they saw who it was, they instantly bowed except for Krist.

“Barons,” Ian Rothman greeted with a friendly smile.

Krist didn’t return the smile, but he dipped his head slightly. “President Ian.”

“I’m glad you’re not causing any trouble for the students. It makes it easier for me as the president. Would you like to check out our booth? Maybe if you hang around a little, the freshmen would swarm us,” Ian asked, gesturing at the Broadcasting Club’s booth.

Krist put his hands in his pockets and stared at Ian. “Thank you for the invitation, but we’re fine. I think your presence alone will interest the freshmen,” he answered, and Ian nodded in understanding.

“Then how about you check those booths there instead?” Ian suggested, gesturing at the already crowded stalls. “They’ve been grabbing everyone’s attention since we started. You might want to check them out.”

“Alright, thank you. Enjoy the rest of the day, President Ian,” Krist said, and Jokers turned and left.

When they were far from the president, Dhanin looked at their leader and said, “President Ian seriously gives me the chills. He has this laid-back aura, but he also looks like someone who would step on your face and praise you at the same time.”

“If you want to live longer, I suggest you don’t say that in public,” Krist told Dhan, who immediately covered his mouth, checking if someone had heard him.

“Wait, aren’t we heading to the societies? Alpha and Beta are usually the clubs some brotherhood members come from. It’s pretty impressive. Even Leo himself came from the Alphas, and now he’s a Duke,” Brave said.

“That’s nothing special. We didn’t join clubs during our freshman year either, but we’re Barons. See, clubs aren’t that important,” Rome proudly said, and Brave laughed and playfully messed his hair. 

“That’s because that’s part of our criteria, you dimwit.”

Rome pouted, making Krist chuckle.

“Anyway, we should check Alpha Society’s booth. They’re always so—” Brave suddenly stopped mid-sentence, making Krist and the rest of Jokers look at him. When they noticed Brave staring at the ground, all of them did the same.

“What the hell? Is that fucking…blood?” Dhan asked, shocked.

Krist crouched to check. “No, it’s paint.”

“There’s more there,” Van noticed, spotting more “ bloodstains “ leading to one of the booths.

“What gimmick is this now?” Krist asked with furrowed brows. He and the rest of the Jokers followed the tracks toward the societies’ booths. Everyone expected the trail to lead them to Alpha Society, but to their surprise, the crowded booth wasn’t one of the two popular ones. Instead…

“Is that the Omega Society?” Brave asked, completely confused.

Jokers approached the crowd. As soon as everyone saw them coming, students moved aside to give them space. The barons got closer to the booth, and what they saw next left them entirely speechless.

|END|

21 | Grabbing Attention

♟

KRIST PUSHED THE STUDENTS blocking his way. And as soon as he reached the front, his jaw instantly dropped, just like the rest of the Barons.

Displayed at the Omega Society’s booth were six body bags covered in what seemed like fake blood. Students looked at the booth with curiosity, some with disgust. They couldn’t quite grasp what they were seeing. All they knew about the Omega Society was that they were cleaners, so seeing fake dead people didn’t make sense.

“What in the world—”

“Welcome, everyone, to Omega Society!” Payton greeted through a megaphone. He walked in front of the crowd, making the students back away from him. Payton was wearing a transparent bodysuit, like a raincoat, over his White Uniform. The bodysuit was splattered with fake blood, and more red paint dripped from his fingers.

“How embarrassing,” Payton said, grabbing his glasses to clean them, only to smear more red paint. “Well, as I was saying, welcome to Omega Society. We were just done cleaning one of the messes laid out by one of the…Jokers!”

Payton’s body froze as soon as he spotted Jokers standing right in front of their booth. He tried to say something, but the crowd’s attention shifted to another student. Felix, who was holding a bunch of wires, followed by Max, who was holding a mop also covered with red paint.

The crowd fell silent, and Max and Felix waited for their cue. But Payton said nothing. Felix tried to signal him, and when they realized he was staring at someone, Max and Felix turned toward the crowd.

Felix’s eyes instantly widened when he spotted Jokers staring right at them. Max saw them too, but no surprise showed on his face. Instead, he walked toward Payton and asked, “You okay, Payton? Still in shock?”

“M-Max…” Payton said softly. He still couldn’t move, but Max ignored his worry, let go of the mop, and looked back at the crowd like Jokers weren’t standing there, silently watching their so-called skit.

“It looks like my club members are still in shock. But to give you an idea of what happened, a brotherhood contacted us for a ‘cleanup.’ As the Omega Society, our duty is to clean everything, including the evidence of whatever horrendous crime brotherhoods committed,” Max revealed, shocking not only the White Uniforms but Jokers as well.

“Of course, we don’t know which brotherhood it was. Not knowing their identity keeps it professional, and at the same time, keeps us safe,” he continued before taking out his student card to show everyone. “But we receive our payments, or what we call points, as soon as the cleaning duty is over.”

“ What the fuck is he saying ?“ Brave whispered to Krist, who was also shocked by what he was hearing.

“A lot of you must have heard of our great society as merely a bunch of cleaners, but this year, we decided to share what we really do. Only the strong and quick are allowed in this club. So if you think you have the guts, then join us…” Max paused and opened his arms like a showman. “I dare you.”

The students fell silent. The only sounds were the music from other booths and the nervous breaths of students standing close to Jokers.

Max waited for a reaction, specifically from Jokers. But just as Krist was about to speak, everyone suddenly gasped and bowed. Clapping sounds rang out in the silence. Max looked to the right and saw Ren Adachi with the other prince from Pretty Duo, Akihiko Sakuraii .

“What an entertaining show. As expected from a Sinclaire,” Ren said as he approached Max with a smile.

Max said nothing and bowed without hesitation. Ren’s smile grew wider when he saw Max bowing properly this time, unlike at the Great Hall.

“It’s about time someone understood the real concept of this club. I’m excited to work with you someday. Of course, if needed,” Ren said.

“We are too, if we have enough members, of course,” Max answered, standing straight.

“I’m pretty sure a lot of freshmen will join. Who wouldn’t want to be part of the Omegas? Isn’t that right, Master Joker?” Ren asked, suddenly facing Krist, who still hadn’t said a word.

Max looked at Krist as well. When their eyes met, Krist adjusted his brooches and told him, “Looks like we’ll be calling your society more often.”

Payton, Felix, and Max were surprised by the response. They thought he’d say something different, maybe even scold them, but he said something they hadn’t expected at all.

“We would be honored, Barons,” Max said, quickly bowing, and Payton and Felix followed.

Krist said nothing more and walked away from the crowds, with Brave and the rest of Jokers following behind him.

“We should check the other clubs, Ren,” Akihiko, also known as Aki, told Ren before looking back at Max with his catlike eyes. Even the way he moved was feline-like. “Good luck, serf,” he added, not insultingly.

Max bowed again, as did the other White Uniforms surrounding the booth.

Ren and Aki took their leave. When they were out of sight, Max, Felix, and Payton looked at one another. Seconds later, Max started laughing, and eventually the other two laughed with him. Students looked on, confused, but after composing himself, Payton faced the crowd and asked, “So, any volunteers?”

…

Payton slid his fingers down the list of students who had signed up to join their club. There were nine in total, and Payton couldn’t believe they had recruited so many.

“Max, I thought you were crazy, but you actually did it,” Payton said as he, Felix, and Max sat in their small club room.

Max, busy wiping paint from his hand, looked at Payton and said, “Looks like you have no choice but to make me a permanent member now.”

Payton set down the list and smiled at Max. “Thanks, Max. We owe you one.”

Max put down the wet towel and looked at his new club members. “You’re welcome. But I’m pretty sure Ren and the rest of the brotherhoods who visited our booth helped us more than our bloody skit.”

“I was terrified when I saw them. I thought they were going to destroy our booth or something,” Felix said, and Payton nodded.

“I was surprised to see them there at all. Brotherhoods never visit the booths during the club presentation. President Janus must have given them permission this time,” Payton commented, making Max squint in suspicion, though he didn’t dwell on it.

Felix, who was cleaning paint off his boots, didn’t look up as he added, “But it’s only Brotherhood Week. Most of the time, they don’t do anything drastic.”

While the three were talking, someone suddenly knocked on the door, interrupting their conversation. They turned to each other with knowing looks, and then Payton cleared his throat and said, “Come in.”

The door slowly opened, revealing a freshman with a black armband, signifying that he was a serf, which wasn’t a big deal, given they had only started gaining points a few days ago. It would be a very different story by the second term.

“Good afternoon. My name is Eren. I was told to come here,” he said, and Payton stood and approached him. 

“Oh, that’s right. I called for you,” he said, pointing toward the freshman before looking back at Max and Felix. “This is Eren Nabi . I chose him as the first-year representative. Everything we want to announce, we tell him.”

“I see. Then welcome to the club,” Max said, and the first year nodded in acknowledgment.

Payton sat and gestured to the seat beside Felix. Eren took it, and the four began their meeting.

“So, do you have any questions about the club? Anything you want to clarify?” Payton asked.

Eren shook his head, meaning things were clear so far.

Max took a deep breath and glanced around the room. “How about we ask for a bigger room and a bigger budget? I think we deserve that now, don’t you think?” he suggested.

Payton said nothing, took out a notebook and pen, and wrote down Max’s request.

“How about the freshmen? Do you want anything?” Payton asked.

Nabi touched his chin and furrowed his brow. “W-we haven’t really thought about it. But I do have a question. It’s regarding our safety. Are we going to deal with…dead students?”

Max’s eyes widened. He looked at Payton and Felix, and the three of them burst out laughing, confusing Eren. After a few seconds, they calmed down. Max wiped his eyes and explained, “The skit we did was exaggerated. White Uniforms don’t really get killed by brotherhoods; it’s never happened. We might do something dangerous, but not to that extent, so don’t worry.”

“Anyway, if there are no more questions, let’s talk about the Welcome Ball tonight. Brotherhoods will have their presentation, and the societies will have a special introduction in front of them as well, so we have to get ready. I was told club leaders are supposed to make a speech, but I thought, since you came up with everything, why not speak on our behalf? Don’t you two agree?” Payton said, now looking at Max.

“But I’m not the club leader. Will that be okay?” Max asked.

“I think that’s fine,” Payton insisted, and Felix nodded in agreement.

They finished their meeting and headed out to get ready for the ball to be held in the greenhouse at exactly 7:00 p.m tonight. Students were allowed to bring one guest and were required to wear formal clothes. It was an event many students were excited about.

“Everyone is requested to leave the campus early in preparation for the Welcome Ball. I repeat, all students are requested to leave the campus in preparation for the Welcome Ball. Thank you,” President Ian announced through the speakers scattered around campus.

Felix, Max, and Ari—whom they saw at the Keep—were walking toward the cars waiting in front of the main building. Classes were cut early so students could prepare, and at the same time, the greenhouse could be readied for the night’s most awaited Welcome Ball.

“So, how did your presentation go?” Felix asked as they walked down the steps.

Ari, who looked exhausted, rubbed his eyes and answered, “We recruited six new members. But I heard you guys did pretty well after your…interesting skit. Everyone was talking about it.”

“We have nine new members, thanks to Max, but Alpha Society still recruited thirteen, which is insane. I’m guessing most students got scared of what we showed,” Felix explained, and Max couldn’t agree more. Maybe they were a little over the top on the blood and body bags.

As they walked, Max spotted Étienne standing in front of their car, waiting. Max looked back at his friends. “Looks like I’ll take my leave first. I’m dying to crash before the ball. I’m seriously drained.”

“You’re going to sleep? Aren’t you going to buy a suit, or at least invite someone? Guests are important, you know,” Ari asked.

Max approached his butler and answered casually, “I don’t need to invite anyone. And I’ll just look for a suit in my closet. It doesn’t really matter.”

Étienne bowed to Max and opened the door. Just as Max stepped into the car, Ari frowned and said, “Then how about the press?”

Max froze and slowly turned back to Ari. “What do you mean by the press?”

Ari and Felix exchanged looks, then faced Max. “Tons of reporters come to the ball every year. Didn’t you know that?”

Max almost dropped his bag as he stared at his friends in disbelief. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

|END|

22 | Welcome Ball

♟

“HOW COULD YOU NOT tell me this? I should have scheduled a fitting or at least a—”

“Don’t worry, I already handled all of that,” Marcus told Max on the other line, making Max grunt in frustration. “I knew you were busy with the club preparation, so I already talked to a designer and even took the liberty to invite a personal guest for you. Remember, even though outside matters shouldn’t be talked about in the house, who you bring to the ball shows your status, which is why it is very important.”

“Seniors and juniors usually don’t attend the ball anymore, so you’ll be fine. Just talk to Étienne; I already told him about the plans. Now I still have to prepare for the brotherhood presentation, so I’ll see you tonight. Bye, Max!” Marcus said before finally ending the call.

Max sighed and looked at the rearview mirror to see Étienne staring directly at him. Max hid his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms. “So, who’s the designer we’re talking about here?”

Étienne looked back at the road and adjusted his tie. “Tom Ford,” he answered.

“And the guest?”

“I heard it was…” Étienne paused and watched Max’s reaction. 

“Madam Cindy Lin. “

…

Max secretly yawned after a long day of sudden preparations. He attended a fitting for his suit, bought jewelry that was worth more than what he donated to Jokers, and rushed to his appointment at the salon. The worst part about it all was that people saw him because of the J.S. High uniform, so reporters started swarming him on the streets. He and Étienne barely escaped.

“You should consider your father’s proposal about getting a bodyguard for you. I’m a butler, and there’s only so little I can actually do for you,” Étienne said as he fixed his uniform that had been aggressively pulled by dozens of reporters earlier.

Max ignored Étienne’s suggestion and chuckled to himself instead. “Sometimes I forgot that these things happen to me. I’d laugh at the ridiculous situation if it were any bit funny,” Max said while flattening the almost invisible wrinkle in his shirt.

“By the way, was Cindy going to meet me at J.S. High?” Max asked while looking out the window.

“Heard she was out of town earlier, but thankfully J.S. High has a helipad that allowed them to park her helicopter,” Étienne answered casually.

“Of course she did.”

“She rushed back to London as soon as she heard the invitation came from you. You should thank her once you meet.”

“I’ll think about it,” Max answered, and Étienne couldn’t believe his master’s indifference. Others would offer an entire building just to get to talk to Cindy, but Max was there…thinking about it.

Cindy Lin is the sole heiress to the biggest investment company in the world. Max had met Cindy once when he was young, but he couldn’t exactly remember when. 

Despite only being two years older than him, Cindy is very ladylike. She’s reserved, smart, and graceful—the child her parents used as a trophy they’re proud to brag about. Everyone’s eyes are always on her, and one of the main reasons for all the attention she keeps getting is that Cindy is none other than the second-highest-ranking heir…in Crème de la Crème.

“We’re here, Master,” Étienne announced as he drove past the gates of the House of Kings. Instead of heading to the greenhouse where the welcome ball was supposed to be, Étienne drove to the East Bailey.

A helicopter was parked in front of the Keep with the letters C.L. printed on the side. Étienne parked in front of the helicopter, then got out and opened the door for Max. Just in time, a woman wearing an elegant dress stepped out of the helicopter, leaving both Étienne and Max speechless by her beauty.

“Leigh,” she called out with a soft voice as Max approached her.

Cindy curtsied, and Max took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“Thank you for being here even with your busy schedule,” Max said as he let go of her hand.

“How could I say no to your brother’s request?” Cindy said with an almost playful grin, making Max chuckle. “And besides, I’m dying to see little Vi again,” Cindy added, surprising Max. He wanted to ask about it, but decided to have a quick chat in the car instead.

“Shall we?” Max asked, and Cindy draped her hand around Max’s arm, and the two headed into the car.

While Étienne drove them to the greenhouse in silence, Max closed the partition so Étienne wouldn’t hear their conversation. He then looked at Cindy and asked, “How long have you known about Viktor?”

Cindy took a deep breath and crossed her arms like she was thinking about how to answer. 

“I’m studying at J.S. High’s sister school, the House of Queens,” Cindy revealed, which was something that Max was already aware of before he even enrolled in J.S. High. 

“And since you’re already studying here, I’m sure you’re now aware of brotherhoods. In my house, we have sisterhoods, and I just so happened to be the queen in the House of Queens. I…well, let’s just say I met Viktor when they visited our house, and that’s when I found out,” Cindy explained, surprising Max that these things had already been happening for such a long time, while he knew absolutely nothing about it.

“I can’t believe Uncle kept this a secret from me. You have no idea how stupid I felt when I found out about everything,” Max told her, making Cindy chuckle.

“It’s expected that he wouldn’t tell you. I’m sure he’d do everything he could so you wouldn’t find out about it. After what happened in the past,” Cindy told him.

“What do you mean by that?”

Before Cindy could answer, they arrived at the greenhouse, which was already filled with students and guests. If Max hadn’t known this was a welcome ball, he would have thought he was attending a movie premiere instead.

“Well, let’s talk about this some other time,” Cindy said as Étienne parked at the entrance. Reporters crowded around their car as a guard opened the door.

Max got out first, cameras flashing as soon as he did. He then stretched out his hand, and Cindy took it as she stepped out next. As expected, more cameras flashed just from the sight of her.

Cindy draped her hand around Max’s arm, and the two walked down the red carpet with confidence. These two were the highest-ranking heirs in the world, which meant they held the most power in the whole business world. They were definitely a force to be reckoned with.

“Sir Sinclaire! How did it feel to finally attend your uncle’s school?”

“Did you personally ask Madam Lin to be your guest for tonight’s ball?”

“Madam Lin! Is there any meaning behind your attendance? Are there any business-related reasons for it?!”

Reporters shouted questions in a chorus, almost making it impossible for Cindy and Max to understand them. When they reached the photo section, the two posed for a couple of pictures before finally answering some questions.

“Sir Sinclaire, people have been dying to know: why did you finally decide to enroll in J.S. High, and how has your experience been so far?” a reporter asked, pointing the microphone near Max’s mouth.

Max looked at the dozens of reporters in front of him, almost squinting because of the flashes. He cleared his throat and lifted a hand, and in an instant, the flashes stopped. “My uncle insisted I enroll. There’s no special reason. I just wanted to give it a try. So far, things have been great,” he answered like it was the absolute truth.

“For Madam Lin, we rarely see you together with Sir Sinclaire, even at major events. Does this mean Sir Sinclaire personally invited you tonight?” another reporter asked, pointing the microphone at Cindy this time.

Cindy smiled first and, with a soft, soothing voice, answered, “Leigh and I have known each other since we were little, and I consider him one of my dearest friends. How could I say no to someone like that?”

Cindy’s smile widened as she moved closer to Max like they’d been best friends forever, when in fact, they hadn’t talked to each other for years. Max and Cindy have seen each other more on the news than in person.

Reporters snapped more pictures, and Max almost rolled his eyes in disinterest, but he laughed it off and continued to smile at the cameras.

“Last question for both of you. Does this attendance mean anything? Are we seeing future business partnerships after this?” the last reporter asked, and Max and Cindy looked at each other before giving their answer.

“No, we’re just here to enjoy the night. Nothing more, nothing less,” Max answered with a fake yet natural smile, and Cindy did the same, nodding in agreement.

“Alright, thank you very much. Enjoy the ball, you two.”

Max and Cindy thanked the reporters and finally headed to the greenhouse, where they were greeted by the members of the Elites. Ian spotted them first, and in an instant, the rest of the five members of the Elites bowed to greet Cindy, not Max. After all, Max was only a serf in this house.

“Queen Cindy, the leader of rank 1 sisterhood Vixens . If we had known you were attending tonight’s ball, we would have prepared for your arrival,” Ian told her.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Cindy is just fine. I’m only here as a guest, so please don’t address me as anything but,” Cindy answered, and the Elites finally moved aside so the two could head to the party.

Ian thanked Cindy, while Dustin and Gavriil glared at Max, probably annoyed by how he had managed to invite such an important guest.

While walking, Max spotted flowers displayed near the entrance to the hall. There were black, blue, and yellow roses. He didn’t even have to ask what they were for as he took the black one and tucked it into his coat pocket.

Cindy chuckled and moved close to Max’s ear, whispering, “You’re a serf? Your uncle didn’t even give you a little boost?”

“I wouldn’t have enrolled here if he did,” Max answered immediately, making Cindy laugh even harder before nodding in agreement.

The two finally made their entrance. Hundreds of students were dancing and laughing. Classical music played in the background, but when the two walked in, it felt like everything stopped, even though it didn’t.

“Th-That’s Hellcat. She’s the leader of Vixens,” a student said with a shocked expression.

“Hellcat?” Max asked when he overheard it, but Cindy only shrugged in response.

Everyone stared at the two with wide eyes, unsure how to react. As they were left in awe, someone walked toward them with confidence—a woman wearing a fitted black dress. It was a simple dress, if you disregarded the million-dollar jewelry she wore.

“Leigh! It’s good to see you!” the woman said as she grabbed Max away from Cindy and pulled him close to kiss him on both cheeks.

Max didn’t react, but he gently pushed the woman away and told her, “It’s good to see you too, Scarlet. Let me guess, your little brother’s a freshman here.”

“That little idiot didn’t want me as his guest, so I had to negotiate with him to bring me here. After all, the House of Kings’ welcome ball is the event of the year. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is here.” She paused and leaned closer to whisper, “ And it’s the best place to woo new people. Of course, for future business deals.“

“I did not expect less from you at all, Scar,” Max commented with a sigh.

Cindy, who had literally been pushed aside, cleared her throat to catch her attention, making Scarlet look at her with a smirk. “Oh, Cindy, I didn’t see you.”

Cindy was about to say something, but Scarlet didn’t wait and walked away, revealing her long backless dress that proudly showed off a symbol of the fleur-de-lis, indicating that she was a member of Crème de la Crème too.

Scarlet Romano , the eldest daughter of the Romano family and the heiress to Romano Resorts and Hotels, is the ninth highest-ranking heir among the twelve members of Crème de la Crème. She’s known to be fierce and outspoken, and at the same time, she’s considered the best business dealer among the heirs. 

Max had spoken to her a couple of times before.

“Well, meet my Duchess. She’s only a second-year student, but she’s already an amazing leader. Even though our personalities clash, I have nothing but respect for her,” Cindy said with sincerity. “By the way, are you planning to be an underling? I might be able to help you choose the perfect brotherhood. I know them very well, after all.”

Max and Cindy walked toward the tables as Max answered, “I’m not planning on joining a brotherhood. I want to join the Elites.”

Cindy paused for a second. After a moment, she nodded like she understood Max’s intention.

“You must have realized the gravity of Viktor’s return to the business world. The balance we have now will be destroyed. Once Viktor takes back his clan’s entire riches, he’ll have the power to control all of us,” Cindy answered in a serious tone.

“I know I don’t have the power to stop whatever it is he’s planning, but I want to know what it is, and I have to stand at the same level as him to do that.”

As the two arrived at the tables, Max spotted Ari and Felix sitting beside their own guests. Max and Cindy approached, and as soon as Ari saw Cindy, he suddenly hit Felix’s shoulder to get his attention, and the two jolted from their seats to greet her.

“Your friends?” Cindy asked, glancing at the yellow and black roses in both of their pockets.

Max didn’t say anything but nodded in answer.

Ari and Felix continued staring at Cindy like she was some kind of ghost, so Max cleared his throat and told them, “By the way, this is my guest, Ms. Cindy Lin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cindy greeted, and Felix and Ari looked at Max with an are-you-serious-right-now expression. Like, who doesn’t know Cindy Lin?

The two introduced themselves, along with their guests. Ari was with a Nobel Prize winner, and Felix was with a famous business strategist, whom Max was very excited to meet. Soon after, the food arrived, and for the first time, Max chatted with his friends in a very civil manner, not caring whether a gaffer would kick him in the gut or not.

“The brotherhood presentation will begin in ten minutes. Students on the dance floor are now requested to head to their seats. Thank you,” a voice announced.

“Looks like the show is about to begin,” Cindy said before taking a sip of her wine.

“The freshmen really have to pay attention. Sometimes the flashiest presentation doesn’t automatically make it the best brotherhood to be an underling of,” Ari stated, and everyone at their table agreed.

While Max was busy finishing the dessert on his plate, Cindy leaned close to him and said, “By the way, you should pay attention too.”

“Why? I told you, didn’t I? I don’t want to be an underling,” Max answered.

Cindy shook her head and clarified, “You’re not going to choose the brotherhood you’re going to be an underling of.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Cindy put down her wineglass and suddenly grinned, shedding the proper-lady façade to show Max a glimpse of the queen she truly was. “Want to reach little Vi? Then let this pretty Hellcat tell you who you should conquer first.”

|END|

23 | Brotherhood Presentation

♟

EVERYONE THOUGHT THAT THE brotherhood who would step out first would be Jokers, but the ones who stepped onto the dance floor were, surprisingly, the Counts, Cigarettes. For their presentation, they showcased their underlings the most since it’s what they’re really famous for.

Lighters were the first ever underlings, while Ashes, Cigarettes strongest, are known as white uniforms who are more fearsome than brotherhoods at the lower houses.

With their flags waving in the air and their underlings doing stunts on the side, you’d feel like you were watching a circus, and CJ was the ring leader. If Max hadn’t known these guys were the Cigarettes, he would have thought they were the Jokers because of the concept they chose.

“Cigarettes value their underlings more than anything,” Cindy told Max while they were watching the presentation. “They give most of their resources to them, making them the underlings with the most power. If you want to be an underling, they’re the best choice. But for your case, that makes them a very troublesome opponent.”

“If I want to go through Cigarettes, I have to go through those Ashes first. And those guys look tougher than the Cigarettes themselves,” Max said, his eyes on the underling who breathed out fire.

The next presenters were Crazy 8. For the first time, all eight members were present. And like a masquerade ball, they all covered their faces with masks. Crazy 8 was known to be elegant and graceful, so for their presentation, the Marquis took eight people from the crowd and danced with them. Even Cindy was invited to join.

It was a simple yet enjoyable presentation, considering the fact that Crazy 8 didn’t have underlings, so they were just there to enjoy themselves.

“Graceful as ever,” Max said, clapping for Cindy, who had just finished dancing with Crazy 8’s leader, Siren.

Cindy sat down and took a sip of water. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Siren. Well, not really seen-seen, but you get the point.”

“Did no one know his real identity?” Max asked out of pure curiosity.

“Well, from what I know, even the Royals don’t have a clue who Siren might be. But don’t be fooled by their elegant image. Crazy 8 is called crazy for a reason. They’re the only brotherhood that started from the House of Pawns and shot straight to the House of Kings during the Annual Brotherhood Reranking. Even my sisterhood was surprised,” Cindy explained, shocking Max.

“Then it looks like they’re going to be tough to handle.”

The third performer was none other than Boys Next Door, also known as the Dukes. As international as they were, BND showed a pageant-like presentation, showcasing their individual charms and talents. Everyone watched in amazement, while Max tried his best not to vomit when he saw his brother flirting with the crowd.

“It’s strange how I never even imagined that Marcus would join a brotherhood or any type of dangerous group like this. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s a sweet guy. Fighting wasn’t something that I thought he’d be good at,” Max said close to Cindy’s ear so others wouldn’t hear him.

“I don’t want to put my nose in your family affairs, but there are a lot of things you don’t know about Marcus. Thanks to our families’ relationship, I know you’re related. But you being siblings won’t automatically make you close,” Cindy told Max, hoping he wouldn’t find her statement rude.

Thankfully, Max took it with a grain of salt. “Marcus has always been secretive. If he wasn’t, I would have already known about this school the moment he enrolled here,” he explained as he looked back at the presenters.

“BND represents three traits,” Hans suddenly said, making both Max and Cindy give their attention solely back to him. “These traits are honor, passion, and grace. If you do not have any of those traits, you are not welcome in our brotherhood.”

“We do not have customs either,” another member explained. “We believe customs are only used to boast one’s power over the students, which is why we do not perform them.”

Marcus then stepped forward and added, “And lastly, BND values every individual’s strength. If you join us, we will hone your skills and talent and make you a better man for society.”

“Now, to end this presentation, I would like to share with you all our brotherhood’s motto. Those who cannot stand the thorns ,” Hans started, and the rest of the members of BND bowed and finished it for him, “ do not deserve to pick the Roses .“

Hans smiled at the crowd and touched his chest like some kind of gentleman. “We hope you knock on our doors soon,” he ended, bowing as the crowd clapped for them.

Max clapped for them too, and the Dukes made their exit, giving way to the next presenters. 

The Princes and the Kings decided to merge their presentation, so when the dance floor was cleared, the lights dimmed, and the Royals’ symbol was projected in the middle.

“The Royals, better known as the Kings and Princes. These guys don’t even have to do anything. Students already want to be their underling by simply existing,” Cindy explained with a soft voice as she leaned closer to Max. “It’s a shame, though. Because neither brotherhood has underlings like Crazy 8. If they did, their underlings might just outrank Jokers and maybe even Cigarettes when it comes to influence.”

“Did your sisterhood have underlings?” Max then asked, because Cindy was a queen herself, which made her part of the Royals.

“Well, the Princesses in our house are our underlings. But that’s a very different story,” Cindy answered, surprising Max, since it only meant that Cindy didn’t just have underlings—she had an entire sisterhood under her command.

As the greenhouse fell silent, trumpets sounded, and one by one, the Princes stepped out wearing their famous black uniforms.

First were the Dangerous Five, followed by the Pretty Duo, and finally, the Hot Wingmen, who walked behind their leader, Kim Hee-joon, who matched his uniform with a long cape.

“The Ice Prince. I have not seen that man smile even once. If you ask me, he’s scarier than Viktor,” Cindy admitted, and Max couldn’t help but agree, especially after what he did to him when they encountered them at the Great Hall.

“By the way, do you know about the Kings’ roles, Leigh?” Cindy then asked as they watched PHD walk toward their positions.

“All I know is Viktor leads them,” Max answered honestly, and just on cue, Busters arrived one by one.

Cindy moved closer to Max so she could whisper in his ear. “Remember, Leigh, Viktor isn’t the only king in J.S. High. There’s a reason why your house is called the House of Kings, not King. And in Busters…there are nine,” Cindy explained as she started pointing at the members of Busters who were walking toward the middle according to their titles.

“That’s the Destroyer,” Cindy introduced as she pointed at the member wearing a leather eyepatch. “Then the Lion, the Noble, the Humble, the Good…” She continued. Then a student who was maybe even smaller than Felix suddenly appeared. For some reason, it was Max’s first time actually noticing him.

“That one is called the Merciful. Don’t be fooled by his looks, because he is everything but merciful,” Cindy explained, and the small boy suddenly grinned in their direction, making the hair on Max’s skin stand.

“Then we have the Defender, and lastly, Viktor’s right-hand king, the Serpent,” Cindy finished as a student with long, platinum-white hair joined in.

“Viktor invented the brotherhood customs, customs that changed the students’ perspective of the brotherhoods, which we, the sisterhoods, later adapted. In all honesty, I would rather face any other customs except for theirs, because they call their customs the Russian Roulette Trial , or better known as the Nine-Level Punishment,” Cindy told Max as he looked at the Kings one by one.

Their presence alone made Max gulp. Only now did he realize how terrifying they were, especially with Cindy introducing them to him.

“The custom goes like this: the student who will be punished is given a revolver. Unlike the usual Russian roulette, all chambers have a bullet except for one. The student then shoots a target with eight numbers, which represent the eight Kings. The number that you’re able to hit represents the King you will face,” Cindy explained.

“And if you shoot with the empty chamber?” Max asked.

“You automatically receive the ninth-level punishment, also known as the Conqueror Punishment, which, unfortunately, is a title given to Viktor,” Cindy explained, and just in time, Viktor arrived and joined the rest of the Kings.

Surprisingly, Viktor was wearing a masquerade mask, probably to hide his identity from the other guests. As expected, the outsiders didn’t recognize him.

The members of PHD and Busters moved aside, and Hee-joon and Viktor stepped into the middle. Someone removed their capes for them, and then another pair of students arrived and handed them swords.

“Don’t tell me they’re—” Before Max could even finish his question, Viktor suddenly struck first. Thankfully, Hee-joon was able to dodge the attack.

The two started swinging their swords, charging at each other, and not caring if they actually hit the other or not. Everyone was holding their breath, and the only thing you could hear was the clash of their blades.

The students watched in full concentration. When Hee-joon managed to leave a wound on Viktor’s shoulder, everyone gasped, even Max. Everyone thought this was only part of their presentation, but when they saw the blood dripping from Viktor’s shoulder, it was obvious this wasn’t scripted at all.

Viktor glanced at his bleeding arm and grinned. Instead of slowing down, his speed increased. Hee-joon had been relaxed, but after a while, the concentration on his face faltered. Viktor pushed forward, and just as Hee-joon swung his sword toward Viktor’s neck, Viktor dodged the attack and kicked Hee-joon in the stomach, making the prince fall back and let go of his sword.

Viktor immediately swung his sword toward Hee-joon. But when the blade was inches away from his neck, he stopped.

Everyone was silent for a second, but one by one, the students started clapping for the amazing display the Royals had shown.

Viktor smiled and helped Hee-joon stand. Hee-joon, as the loser, respectfully bowed to Viktor and rejoined his brotherhood. As the crowd continued to clap, Viktor took a handkerchief and tied it around his injured shoulder. A student ran to him and gave him a microphone. As soon as he placed the mic near his mouth, the clapping died down.

“To those who still do not know me, I am the leader of Busters, also known as the Conqueror. I have been a student in J.S. High and a member of a brotherhood for four years, and a leader and a king for three. I have contributed a lot to this house and the brotherhoods, but my reign will be over soon, and so will the rest of my fellow Kings,” Viktor stated as he started walking around the greenhouse, making the students flinch as he walked past them.

“We, Busters, have done our part, but this year will be different. That is why I, with the leader of the Princes, Kim Hee-joon, have decided for the first time that we will be recruiting underlings,” Viktor announced, shocking not only the students but even Max and Cindy as well. Even the Elites were surprised.

That announcement alone made everyone start talking at once.

“This doesn’t sound good. Not good at all,” Ari said with worry in his voice.

Viktor lifted his hand, and the noise instantly vanished. “As I was saying, all the members of Busters are seniors, and so are half of the members of PHD. The underlings that we will pick will be personally trained under our wing, and they will form a brotherhood of their own.”

Cindy’s eyes widened as she looked back at Max. “This can’t be. They copied what I did. They’re going to make replacements as soon as they graduate.”

And as if Viktor had heard what Cindy said, he looked straight at her and grinned. He then looked back at Max and continued, “And I am personally declaring it here as well. We will handpick our underlings, not just in J.S. High…but in other houses too.”

“W-What?”

“So, White Uniforms, whether you are from the Kings or the Pawns…show us everything you’ve got. Because believe me, your life will definitely depend on it.”

|END|

24 | First Target

♟

THE BROTHERHOOD PRESENTATION WAS over in the blink of an eye. The white uniforms, along with their guests, were all left in complete awe after watching what the brotherhoods had to offer. Unfortunately, all the attention eventually went to the Royals thanks to Viktor’s announcement. No one talked about anything else but that.

“Imagine getting picked as an underling for the Royals. Just imagine  the power those guys will hold,” Felix told Ari and Max, still in sky high at the possibility of being under the Royals’ wings.

“This will only make the freshmen work even harder. They didn’t give an actual criterion, but it was obvious that the ones who will make a name for themselves will have a bigger chance of getting chosen,” Ari explained.

Max then looked at Cindy and asked, “How about you, Cindy? How did you choose your underlings?”

Cindy, who was enjoying her wine, tried to recall the events that led to the creation of her underlings.

“When I started studying in J.S. High’s sister school, I didn’t make a sisterhood of my own. Vixens were already created then, and they were the Duchess at that time,” Cindy began to share.

“I became their underling during my freshman year. The following year, I became a member, and lucky for us, we won the rerankings and became queens. In my third year, after our leader…left…the title was passed down to me, and that’s when I decided to take ten of our greatest underlings and make them form a sisterhood of their own, which later on became the princesses. So to answer your question, I didn’t choose our underlings. We already had them before I became a queen.”

“Then why did you decide to form another sisterhood? Unlike Busters, Vixens aren’t all seniors. There will still be members left even if you graduate. You could have just trained them to be members of Vixens instead of making an entirely new group for them,” Ari’s guest asked, surprising Max that he was also knowledgeable about the system.

“He’s an alumnus,” Ari immediately answered when he noticed Max’s reaction.

“For my case, it’s more so a personal reason. As much as we want to have faith in others, trust is such a fragile thing, and Vixens isn’t the sisterhood that I used to know anymore,” Cindy replied, the sad expression painted on her face showing the hardships she had been enduring since she became queen.

“Well, at least we know the kings are doing it because they’re all graduating. They might not want anyone else to take the name Busters, and probably wanted to leave some kind of legacy behind,” Ari said.

Max looked at his friends before looking back at the students who were all happily talking with their guests. “But you know what I’m worried about the most?” he asked without looking back at them.

Cindy and the others said nothing and waited for Max to proceed. 

“Those guys are going to be trained and will act as a brotherhood, but they’re basically still underlings.”

“So?” Felix asked in confusion.

Max looked at them with a serious expression and explained further, “They’re still white uniforms, so how many points do you think the Royals are willing to give to their underlings just to make sure they’re all on top?”

Their table fell silent, but after a second, everything sank in, and their eyes grew large with realization.

“Enough to make them members of the Elites…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, let us once again welcome the outstanding brotherhoods of J.S. High!” a voice suddenly announced, interrupting the important discovery Max and the others had been discussing.

One by one, the brotherhoods arrived, now wearing formal clothes as they waved to the crowd like celebrities. Even Jokers were with them now, even though they hadn’t presented anything.

After their mini parade, they headed to their designated seats, and then a microphone stand was placed in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone waited in anticipation as a man wearing a red suit approached the microphone.

“That’s the club leader of Alpha Society. You should get ready too, Max,” Felix said, and Cindy instantly looked at his friend, expecting. 

“Please tell me you’re in Beta.”

“You really don’t know me enough,” Max answered instead, making Cindy cover her mouth in disbelief.

Alpha Society’s leader started his speech strong, which earned him applause from not only the white uniforms but the brotherhoods as well. He was then followed by the leader of Beta Society, who looked like the perfect model student. He gave an informative speech, which also received applause from the crowd.

Max was up next. He stood and walked to the microphone as everyone watched. The students whispered to each other, mostly because of the bloody presentation that the Omega Society had done earlier.

When Max finally reached the middle, the first thing he saw was the brotherhoods whose tables were right at the front, giving them the best view. But Max did not falter. He had been giving speeches in front of presidents since he was twelve. This should not be a problem.

“Good evening,” Max began. “My name is Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, a representative from the Omega Society. Our society has been looked down upon for the past few years, but this year, we hoped to change your perspective. Like the other societies, we are nothing without the brotherhoods that we serve. Our purpose is clear, which is why I ask the brotherhoods to trust us when the time is right.”

Max paused and looked back at their table; Felix smiled brightly and gave him two thumbs up like a supportive mom. He then looked back at the brotherhoods, his eyes automatically falling on Viktor. 

Viktor crossed his arms and stared back with his cold yet deadly gaze. It seemed as if he were waiting for Max to say something that would be reason enough for him to step in and embarrass the young heir.

But Max didn’t give him that satisfaction.

“I hope you see the Omega Society as a society you can depend on. That is all,” Max finished, cutting his speech short and simple.

“Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the night.”

The crowd applauded him, including the brotherhoods who seemed to appreciate the words he had shared.

Soon after, both the brotherhoods and white uniforms continued to enjoy the night like normal students. Everyone ate, danced, and laughed with each other. Max even invited Cindy to dance with him, which caused Scarlet to snatch him away after the song changed.

A couple of drinks later, the most-awaited J.S. High welcome ball came to an end. 

Everyone began to take their leave, while Max drove Cindy back to her helicopter first.

“Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Cindy. Things would have been very different if I had brought someone else,” Max told Cindy as they both stepped out of the car.

Cindy chuckled and patted Max on the back. “I’m flattered, Leigh, but I think you’d be fine even without a guest.”

Max smiled and walked Cindy to the helicopter entrance.

“Well, this is goodbye. It’s very difficult to meet up with you, Leigh, so I’m glad we were able to share our time like this. Maybe next time, invite me to something that doesn’t involve the press. I’d love to talk more with you soon,” Cindy told him, and Max nodded as she headed inside.

Max was ready to turn and leave, but Cindy called out to him again. “By the way, I told you I’d help you choose, right?”

Max did not say anything but looked back at her with furrowed brows.

“Jokers,” she said seriously. “Start with the Jokers. This might sound crazy, but I think they need you more than you need them.”

“What do you mean by that?” Max asked, but Cindy did not say anything further as a man closed the door for her. The rotor blades began turning, and Max jogged back to his car, Étienne holding the door open for him.

Max said nothing and climbed inside. He then looked out the window and watched the helicopter fly off. As Étienne took a seat in the driver’s seat, Max loosened his necktie and said under his breath, “Jokers, you say?”

He remembered his speech earlier. He had been too occupied with how Viktor was staring at him that he hadn’t noticed the other man sitting at a nearby table. His stare had been intense, as if he wanted to settle something with Max. More than that, he had looked annoyed, as if Max were a stain on a perfectly white shirt. 

That man was no doubt the Jokers’ leader.

If Cindy wanted Max to start with them, there had to be a reason. Max just had to trust Cindy’s advice. After all, the Hellcat had never been wrong before.

…

“Master Leigh, breakfast is ready. Sir Marcus is also waiting for you on the patio,” Étienne announced from outside Max’s bedroom door.

Max released a heavy sigh and stood from the floor after performing at least forty-three pushups. Even though he wanted to continue and reach a hundred, his arms felt like they were going to break. He decided to try again tomorrow.

“Looks like I still need more training,” Max mumbled to himself while he wiped his sweat with a clean towel.

Étienne knocked on the door again, bothered that his master wasn’t answering. But just when Max was about to respond, Étienne opened the door without warning. Max sighed and looked at his butler with an annoyed expression. “Do I even need a door since you’re allowed to barge in anyway?” he asked sarcastically, but Étienne didn’t look fazed.

“Then I suggest you lock it next time.”

“Well, I didn’t know that someone would—” Max paused, took a deep breath, and completely gave up on the rest of his sentence.

Max threw the towel he had used into a basket. Étienne grabbed a black silky robe and helped Max put it on. Right after that, Max walked out of his bedroom and headed to the patio where Marcus sat. The patio had a perfect view of the garden. Maids stood to the sides, and as soon as they spotted Max, they bowed their heads and greeted him.

“Good morning, Max. Isn’t it a pleasant Saturday?” Marcus asked, his eyes glued to the newspaper he was holding.

Maids rushed to Max’s side. One poured white tea into his cup, while another handed him the same newspaper his brother was reading.

Max thanked the maids for the tea but refused the newspaper.

“The ball went well, didn’t it? I personally enjoy the Welcome Ball the most since it’s the only event where everyone can act civil for once,” Marcus said.

Max took a sip and slowly put the cup down, making a clinking sound as the bottom hit the saucer. “It was interesting but somewhat educational. I’m glad I was able to attend it, especially since I was with Cindy.”

The mention of Cindy made Marcus chuckle. Without saying anything, he tossed the newspaper in front of Max. Max looked down and noticed that the people on the front page were none other than him and Cindy.

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“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a recent picture of you in the news. They’ve been using your old ones since the Sinclaire family banned your face from fully getting published. There are even rumors going around that you had your face copyrighted,” Marcus said as he took a bread knife to scoop butter for his toast.

Max took the newspaper to get a better look at the picture. “Who even reads this crap?”

“Well, I don’t know, the entire country? It surprises me that you’re still not used to the fame. Heirs are more famous than celebrities, you know? You guys are like reality stars. Everyone wants to be you, but no one really wants to get to know the real you. That’s how things are. It’s what you get for being the only son of two business tycoons,” Marcus said with a sarcastic tone, making Max throw the newspaper back at him.

Marcus caught the newspaper and laughed. “Lighten up,” he said, finally putting the newspaper away. “Anyway, got any plans today?”

Max took a bite of his chouquette and answered, “I still have to read a few contracts. Maybe I’ll visit the company after that so I can talk to the vice president regarding some of them.”

“Are you serious right now?” Marcus asked with disbelief. “You should take a break after everything that happened at J.S. High. You got new friends, right? Why not hang out with them?”

“I’ve only been with Ari and Felix for a week. I don’t know if that’s enough for me to invite them out. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” 

“Then how about those heirs from Crème de la Crème? You know a bunch of them, right? When I was young, the former members hung out a lot. You guys should do that too,” Marcus suggested next, and this time, it was Max’s turn to laugh.

“The only people I know in Crème de la Crème are Cindy and Scarlet, and I barely talk to them. Besides, I don’t even know who the rest of the twelve members are. I only know about four, and I’m not even sure about that either.”

“Well, our leader, Hans, is rank seven, so now you know five,” Marcus casually told him, but Max wasn’t surprised, considering Hans’s eldest brothers had been part of it before, too.

Crème de la Crème is a mysterious yet prestigious group known around the world. There isn’t a written rule where the members are forbidden to disclose their rank to the public, but a handful of them opt to keep it a secret for several reasons, which is why even the heirs themselves don’t know who’s on the list. Only a handful are brave enough to flaunt the fleur de lis symbol.

The top twelve are predicted to control the future of the business world, which is why, at a very young age, they’ve been trained to please the public and the people within the business industry. That’s why some find it strange that the members of Crème de la Crème don’t know each other.

“Since our family hasn’t officially announced it yet, people have been debating whether you’re rank one or if it’s Cindy. It’s hard to tell since the ranks aren’t always arranged by net worth. But there’s a theory going on that you’re not even part of the top ten, and they’re just using you as some kind of cover. Try looking at the internet. There are interesting things you’ll find there,” Marcus suggested, and the idea alone made Max feel a shiver run down his spine.

“I don’t even look at the newspapers or watch the news anymore. Do you really expect me to search for myself on the internet?”

“Oh, come on. Admit it. You got curious once and searched your name up. Everyone does it, so it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I do it too, and I’m not even as famous as you are.” Marcus revealed, and Max just took a sip of his tea, not admitting that he searched for himself from time to time just to see what the buzz is about.

“All jokes aside, I’m not even sure if I’m still ranked one myself,” Max suddenly said as he placed the cup down.

Marcus looked at him and got serious. “It’s about Viktor, isn’t it?” he asked, and Max did not answer as he slumped in his chair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, especially when a lot of people think he’s dead. And besides, you haven’t received a letter that officially stated your rank changed. There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Marcus explained, but Max continued to stay silent as he remembered the time he had received his second letter.

It was seven years ago, and the household had been quiet. Max, who had been only nine years old, had been with an economics professor when his mother arrived with a letter. 

The envelope had a logo of a fleur-de-lis, the same symbol that could be found on his left shoulder. Max read the letter, which stated that his rank had changed and he officially became rank one. His mother was thrilled and even planned a party that same day. It was only after a few days that Max found out that the reason his rank had changed was that Viktor and the rest of his clan had died in an explosion.

The thought of his family celebrating because of that reason made Max’s stomach churn for days. There had even been a time when he wanted to skin himself and remove the symbol on his arm. For some reason, Viktor’s death had affected him greatly, and he couldn’t even remember why.

“Well, I’m heading back to my room. Even though I want to hang out with friends like a normal teenager, I unfortunately still have to read contracts,” Max said, standing to take his leave.

“I still suggest you rest while you still can, Max. What you experienced this week won’t compare to what will happen to you next week. Trust me,” Marcus warned, but Max ignored him and walked away.

With his butler Étienne walking behind him, Max said with confidence, “Don’t worry, big brother. I’m still keeping that promise I gave you the other day. So rest assured, I’ll be fine.”

It was a statement Max wanted to hold with pride. But it only became a selfish declaration that he will later on regret.

|END|

25 | Jacks In The Box

♟

MAX DREW A DEEP BREATH  before heading out of the car. He adjusted his peaked cap, then his black armband, indicating that he was a serf. Unlike the first day, people weren’t staring at him anymore. In fact, they didn’t care about him at all.

“Enjoy your day, Master Leigh,” Étienne said with his head down and his hand on his chest.

Max nodded to acknowledge it. Without another word, he walked up the steps toward the Keep. But as he climbed, someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder. Max acted on instinct and immediately turned around, ready to shove away whoever was holding him. But as soon as he saw who it was, Max stopped himself.

“Felix!” Max shouted in surprise, his heart pounding because he had nearly pushed him off the steps. 

Felix looked startled too, but he immediately apologized when he remembered what had happened to them yesterday with that mean gaffer who had kicked him in the stomach twice.

“I shouldn’t have surprised you. I should have known that you’d be on high alert after what happened. Sorry,” Felix apologized with a guilty expression, making Max smile and pat his head like a kid.

“Good morning,” Max said instead, automatically making Felix feel better.

The two walked up to the Keep so they could go to their classroom together.

“Last week’s ball was fun, wasn’t it? The red carpet was broadcast live and even made the news. My mother was upset that I was only shown once, but you were literally everywhere. It made me realize I’m actually friends with someone as great as you,” Felix said with a proud smile, making Max chuckle.

“I haven’t even done anything to be recognized like that, but if it makes you this happy, then who am I to complain?” Max answered as he and Felix continued down the hallway at the Hall of Caelus.

“But the press doesn’t matter anymore. Did you see the news published on our school’s website? It was all about the Royals. Everyone talked about how they’ll be taking underlings this year. It’s crazy.”

“Viktor must be planning something, especially with his graduation coming up, and the public will soon have to find out about his return,” Max said.

“If it were me, then I’d plan something too. Especially with that rumor going around about his family,” Felix answered, making Max look at him with furrowed brows.

“Rumor? What rumor?” Max asked, surprising Felix that Max hadn’t heard of it yet, considering how it’s the only thing conspiracists are talking about. 

After checking if the coast is clear, Felix grabbed Max’s arm and pulled him to the side. While scanning the hallway to check if someone would sneak up to them, Felix leaned close and whispered, “ Rumor that it was Viktor’s parents who planted the bombs that killed their entire clan.“

As soon as Max heard what Felix had to say, he instantly pulled away from his classmate and shook his head. “H-how could you—Felix, don’t say that so openly,” he warned, walking off because he was afraid someone might have actually heard them.

Felix caught up and fell in beside him again. “But think about it. Isn’t it strange that Viktor was the only one who wasn’t there when the explosion happened? It’s said he was supposed to be the next head of the Stepanov clan, but the elders were planning to change it, so his parents sacrificed themselves so that wouldn’t happen. Doesn’t it make sense?”

“No, it doesn’t, so let’s stop talking about this. Those are serious claims, Felix. As much as I despise Viktor, his parents don’t deserve to be accused of such things,” Max said, and Felix finally zipped his mouth.

Max took a deep breath and tried to forget what he had just heard, but he couldn’t. The Stepanov clan had always been known for its barbaric ways, while Max’s family, the Lemieuxs, were all about class and elegance.

The Lemieuxs always did their dirty work in silence, while the Stepanovs did theirs for everyone to see. That was how both families gained respect and fear from the others. But because of the Stepanovs’ ways, they had more enemies, which was why their deaths hadn’t been much of a shock.

A lot of people always compared the two families; some even chose sides. But even with the public feud, the Lemieuxs and the Stepanovs were never against each other. There was mutual respect on both sides, which was why Max couldn’t believe they’d been killed in such a brutal way.

“Felix, do you know how the Stepanovs died?” Max suddenly asked.

Felix looked at Max. “Bombs were planted all over the Stepanovs’ mansion while they were celebrating their annual reunion.”

Max, who wasn’t even looking at him, shook his head. “That’s what the news reported, but that wasn’t the case at all. Bombs were only placed in some areas of the mansion, but all the doors and windows were suddenly locked and covered from the outside.” He paused and looked at Felix so he could continue. “A handful died from the bombs. But most of them were burned alive inside their own home. Including the elders and the children.”

Felix’s eyes widened in shock, the hair on his arms standing on end. The news had never disclosed that.

“That’s why you shouldn’t believe the rumors. Viktor’s parents were also inside that mansion—along with his two younger siblings. Do you understand why we shouldn’t discuss this?” Max said.

Felix gulped and nodded, looking guilty for even opening it up.

The atmosphere between them turned dark, so Max took a breath and changed the subject for Felix’s sake. “Now, what are we doing today?”

Felix, who had glanced down for a second, switched back to his bright expression in an instant. “Well, it looks like our regular classes are beginning now,” he said, taking out an index card where he had neatly written their schedule. “Our first class is Speech with Mr. Coleman. It can’t get any worse,” he added with a frown, since public speaking wasn’t exactly his forte.

“You’ll be fine,” Max told him. And just as Felix was about to answer, someone suddenly snatched the index card from his hands.

Max and Felix looked behind them and saw Ervin Walker and his friends. The two said nothing as they watched Ervin scan the schedule. “Oh, so this is our schedule. Thanks, Campbell.”

Ervin smiled and handed the card back. But just when Felix was about to take it, Ervin dropped the index card on the floor and deliberately stepped on it, making him and the rest of his friends laugh.

“Sorry, it slipped,” he said before finally walking away, bumping Max’s shoulder as he did so.

When they were gone, Max immediately picked up the index card. He sighed when he saw the footprint on it, reminded of the marks on his peaked cap before, too.

“Well, I can always rewrite it…and maybe laminate it next time,” Felix said as Max handed the card back, still being optimistic despite the constant bullying.

The two got ready to head to their classroom when Aristotle Faulkner, Class II-A’s representative, ran up to Max and Felix, holding his chest while he tried catching his breath.

“Oh, look who’s here. Why do you always come after we get harassed?” Max said with a sarcastic tone, but Ari ignored it.

“We have a problem. A huge fucking problem.”

The panic on Ari’s face instantly made Max look at him seriously. It was obvious this wasn’t like the last time when his uncle Janus had called for them.

“What problem?” Max asked. 

“It’s better for you to see it yourself.”

The three arrived at their overcrowded classroom. As soon as Ari appeared with Max and Felix, the room went quiet.

“What the hell is going on?” Max asked, confused.

Ari headed in first, followed by Max, who was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He thought someone was fighting, or maybe the other societies were out to get them after the skit they did during the club presentation. But when Max finally saw what Felix was trying to show him, the young heir was lost for words.

“N-no way…” Felix said in disbelief.

Max gulped as he stared down at the jack-in-the-box on top of his table. The crowd closed in as he walked towards it. He stared for a second, trying to understand why that box was on his desk. But as soon as he touched it, the familiar melody played, making the hair on his arms stand.

The tune echoed through the quiet room as beads of sweat gathered on Max’s forehead. When the music stopped, Jack popped out with a small note attached to its hand. Max looked around, trying to see if a member of the Jokers was there. When he couldn’t spot anyone, he looked back at the box and slowly reached for the letter.

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Max read the letter over and over again. He didn’t even notice that the white uniforms around him were already stomping their feet. Right on cue, Ervin, one of the few Jacks in their year, appeared in front of Max and taunted, “Looks like you got Master Joker to notice you. Don’t worry, Sinclaire, I’ll make sure we both have fun.”

Everything else that happened after that became a blur.

Ervin snapped his fingers, and two other Jacks came out of nowhere, attempting to seize Jokers’ new target. Ari, who was surprisingly agile, grabbed Max and pulled him away. He pushed the young heir behind him, acting like a human shield.

“You’re not allowed to interfere, Faulkner. You don’t want the barons to hear about this,” Ervin warned.

Ari’s heart was beating fast as he tried his best to cover Max. Felix was also standing on the side, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“Lay a hand on him, and we’re both dead,” Ari defended.

Ervin looked like he was ready to pull Ari away, but Ari’s armband was definitely making it hard for him to act carelessly. Despite it all, Ari was still a gaffer.

“Max, don’t worry. As long as I’m with you, no one is going to—” Just as Ari was about to announce his foolish heroism, the white uniform he was protecting suddenly chuckled. Ari paused and turned around, and as soon as he saw Max’s expression, Ari felt a chill run through him.

“This is too perfect,” Max said in between his growing laughter.

“M-Max?” Felix called out, looking at his friend as if he had finally lost it.

Max laughed even harder. And when it finally died down, he pushed Ari away and grabbed the letter still attached to the box. “An entire day, huh?” he said, looking back at Ervin and the other Jacks surrounding him.

“Go ahead, I’m not going to stop you,” Max declared, leaving the other white uniforms speechless.

“Just do me a favor, will you? Tell your…Master….Joker…that if he’s planning on breaking me, he’ll have to try harder than he’s ever tried before. I’m not one to crack. And if you haven’t noticed,” Max paused and walked back to his desk, where the jack-in-the-box sat. 

Everyone watched him closely. With a grin, Max yanked the jack out of the box and tossed it in front of Ervin, drawing a chorus of gasps.

“I usually don’t play nice,” Max finished.

Last night, he had been struggling to think of ways to get involved with Jokers since Cindy had suggested he start there. He had been making plans for days, but he didn’t expect the opportunity to present itself.

Max was definitely never letting go of it.

“So, who wants to play first?”

Everyone was speechless. Even Ervin, who had been excited about the announcement, had gone completely limp at the sudden turn of events. Never in his life had he seen someone receive a box get that excited.

“What’s going on here?” Sir Barron interrupted when he arrived with the vice president.

The students who weren’t from Class II-A immediately ran out at the sight of the class’s adviser. The rest went back to their seats, except for Max, who grabbed the box to throw it away.

Sir Barron spotted it and massaged his temple. “Leave it for now, Mr. Sinclaire, so we can start homeroom immediately.”

Max nodded and set the box on the floor before taking his seat. Sir Barron began taking attendance, while Ari moved close and hissed under his breath, “Have you lost your goddamn mind? You just received a jack-in-the-box, and you decide to joke about it?”

“That wasn’t a joke. I’m serious. You guys once said brotherhoods can give points. Then all I have to do is conquer Jokers and get points from them. Easy as that,” Max said, making Ari stare in disbelief.

“You’re acting like conquering Jokers is as easy as closing a deal with a company facing bankruptcy. This is Jokers we’re talking about. The barons.”

“Which is why it’s going to be easy. Jokers is the lowest rank in this house, and there has to be a reason why. I don’t know why they gave me a box either, but I know I might be able to help them. Who wouldn’t want that?” Max said.

“You trying to help them will only make my job harder,” Ari shot back, immediately making Max give him a suspicious look.

Ari panicked for a second. He hadn’t meant to say anything that would make Max more cautious of him, especially since he had already slipped about knowing he was related to Marcus.

But before Ari could defend himself, Sir Barron took his things and walked to the middle of the class. “I’ll be taking my leave for now since I have a special class with the brotherhoods. While waiting for the bell, I’m asking the class representative to watch over the class and make sure everyone’s in order before your first-period professor arrives. I’ll see you later,” he said, then left as quickly as he had arrived.

Ari cursed under his breath, forgetting that he was the class rep, thanks to Max. So with no other choice, he looked at Gavriil, who was peacefully reading in his seat, and shouted, “Hey, Vice! Look after the class while I talk to my friend here.”

“Why on earth would I do that for you?” Gavriil shot back, making Ari grunt in frustration.

“That fucking piece of shit,” Ari muttered before standing. “We’re not done talking, Sinclaire. I still have to scold you for what you did,” he said, striding to the front with his hands in his pockets.

Thanks to Max’s stunt, Ari was pissed. It showed on his face, and that alone was enough to keep everyone in their seats.

Max, meanwhile, ignored the death stares and took out his black leather notebook. He flipped to the page where he wrote Jokers’ information and read through it again. He had been writing down every scrap he could get about the school and the brotherhoods, but for Jokers, the page was nearly empty.

Other than their underlings and custom, Max didn’t know anything about the barons. And the only way to get closer to them was to endure the pranks they’d set for him.

Because if he could miraculously come out of this alive, he’d be the first white uniform to do so. And maybe, as crazy as it sounds, that would be enough for them to give him the points he desperately needed.

|END|

26 | Little Boy

♟

EVERYONE WAS STARING AT Max as if he were a painting in a museum. They were waiting for him to do something. Or, to be more precise, they were waiting for something to happen to him.

It was their third period, which meant they were minutes away from lunch break. The professor continued with the lecture, while Ari kept glancing at his watch, his leg bouncing because of how nervous he was.

Nothing had happened to Max yet, but Ari was a hundred percent sure that once the bell rang, he wouldn’t be enough to protect him. And since Max had shamelessly provoked Ervin earlier, he was certain the Jacks wouldn’t go easy on him either.

“Now, if you can turn your books to page—” The bell finally rang, cutting off their Geometry professor, Ms. Warren . The class didn’t wait for further instructions. Students were already on their feet, getting ready for lunch.

“Please solve the equation written on the board when you get home. We’ll talk about this at our next meeting,” Ms. Warren told Class II-A before grabbing her things and taking her leave.

Ari hurried from his seat and planted himself in front of Max as if to cover him. Max, who was digging his student card out of his bag, looked at Ari and massaged his temple. “What the hell are you doing now?” he asked.

“Protecting you,” Ari said casually.

Max sighed and got up, pushing the gaffer aside. 

“Be honest with me, Aristotle. Did my brother ask you to do this? Did he threaten you? Do you owe him money?”

Ari immediately broke eye contact. “I-I’m…it’s complicated, okay? There are things I need to do, and since it’s already obvious—yes, one of those things is protecting you. So, if you don’t mind, stop being stubborn.”

“Who’s protecting who?” Felix asked, appearing beside Ari out of nowhere.

Max took another breath. He glanced around and noticed Ervin and his friends glaring before they left the room. It was obvious they couldn’t make a move with Ari blocking the way.

“All right, since you’re so worried, tell me about this custom. What do these Jacks usually do to their targets?” Max asked with his arms crossed. 

“It’s mostly public humiliation, but in some cases, it involves physical injuries,” Ari answered, and Felix nodded to confirm.

“Has something serious ever happened before?”

“Well, last year there was a student who—”

Shrieks rang out in the hallway, interrupting Ari. Moments later, someone barged into the now-empty room. Ari thought it would be the Jacks, but to their surprise, it was Max’s brother, Marcus, with another equally good-looking man beside him.

“Fuck me dead, that’s Marcus and Khian,” Felix cursed.

Max shot Ari an angry look, but Ari quickly shook his head, insisting he hadn’t told Marcus anything.

“Heard about the news. Have they done something already? Put snakes in your bag, perhaps?” Marcus asked as soon as he saw Max.

“What are you doing here?” Max asked instead of answering.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t check on my little brother who just happened to receive a jack-in-the-box, even after he promised me he’d be careful next time?” Marcus said a little too loudly, catching Felix off guard. 

Even Ari wanted to facepalm at the carelessness.

“It’s not like I wanted to receive it,” Max muttered, rolling his eyes.

“D-did I hear that right, or did Marcus Thompson just say—” Ari clapped a hand over Felix’s mouth. “I’ll explain later. Max, we’ll wait outside and guard the door.”

Max nodded, and his two friends stepped out to give the brothers privacy.

“The news spread fast. Everyone’s talking about how a Sinclaire got his own medicine today after Master Joker left him a box,” Marcus shared.

Max sat on his desk and removed his cap. “They’re delusional. And don’t go mentioning my relationship with you like it’s nothing. Someone other than my friends might hear.” He warned, but Marcus acted like he hadn’t heard a thing.

“And who’s this?” Max asked next, nodding at the boy standing beside Marcus.

“Oh, this is Khian Agustin Zóbel III . He’s my closest friend in BND,” Marcus said as the man smiled, touched his chest, and dipped his head in greeting.

“What is he, a prince?” Max asked with a straight face, making both of them laugh.

“I’m flattered, and also honored that I finally get to meet you. I’ve been begging Marcus to arrange a meeting, but he just wouldn’t let it happen,” Khian said, his presence almost as suffocating as his brother’s.

“That’s…nice…but why are you here, exactly?” Max clarified. 

Khian attempted to get closer, but Marcus grabbed his collar and pulled him back, almost making the poor duke choke.

“He’s here to help, as difficult as that may seem,” Marcus explained while Khian rubbed his neck. “You see, Mr. Zóbel here went to the same SEA school as Krist before they were invited to enroll in J.S. High. He’s here because he has information that might help you with the Master Joker.”

“What kind of information?”

Khian straightened his uniform and slid his hands into his pockets. Without Marcus stopping him, he leaned towards Max, their lips only inches away from each other. The action made Max jerk back.

“Whoa there, big guy. I appreciate the gesture, but that won’t work on me.”

“But it will on Krist Hyusen,” Khian revealed, catching Max off guard.

“What do you mean?” Max asked, trying to grasp what Khian was implying.

Khian stepped back, the usual charming smile on his face fading into something more serious. “Krist Hyusen might seem witty. Funny, even. But he’s homophobic.”

“Homophobic?”

“What, never heard of the word before?” Khian then teased.

“N-No, that’s not what I mean,” Max defended, furrowing his brows. He remembered the comments Krist made with Hans De Vries and the leader of Crazy 8 during the morning assembly. He didn’t read much of it, but who would have thought his little comment actually stemmed from hate?

“That’s why he usually targets homosexuals, and even those only rumored to be one,” Khian added, surprising Max even more.

It never occurred to Max to judge or even discriminate against someone based on their sexuality. He’s not the type to stick his nose in other people’s business, especially when respecting their way of life is easier than hating on something that doesn’t even affect him personally. 

Finding out that Krist, a baron that brotherhoods and other white uniforms look up to, is known for openly targeting certain people, only made Max feel disappointed rather than angry. He saw something in Jokers after they were defeated by Busters. He saw honor. Maybe even pride. But if they’re being led by a leader who leads his brotherhood because of personal vices?

Maybe Max should have opened his eyes more.

“What made him act like that?” Max finally asked.

Looking at it at a surface level, Max was expecting something like conservative parents, or maybe an instance where he was disrespected or taken advantage of before. But what Khian said was definitely something he didn’t have in mind.

“His father cheated on their mother with another man.”

“The story doesn’t end there, little brother, but that’s all you’ll get from us,” Marcus said, ruffling Max’s hair like he always did. “You told me you don’t want help, so I’ll respect it. But this small piece of information might guide you to make better judgments, especially when confronting Jokers.”

“Use this wisely, not to destroy him with it, but to help him,” Khian added. “As much as we hate the guy, he’s still a brotherhood in the House of Kings. His ways reflect all of us, so if you can make a better man out of him, it benefits us all.”

“Spoken like a real Duke,” Max commented, pushing Marcus’s hand away so he could fix his hair and put his peaked cap back.

“Thank you for the information,” Max said, now standing. “I’ll try to think of something, but remember, I’m not here to be a hero. I didn’t come to J.S. High to become their savior, so know that I’m doing this because I need to get points from Jokers, and their points will get me closer to Viktor. That’s it. I just want to make it clear now before things get out of hand.”

Marcus and Khian looked at each other before looking back at Max like he was the most precious thing they’d ever seen.

“You know, you’ve made it pretty clear that the reason you enrolled here is that you want to make a name for yourself. But maybe making a name for yourself doesn’t always have to be related to you defeating Viktor or the Stepanov Clan,” Marcus explained. “For once, Max, try choosing a goal that doesn’t involve others. You’ve grown up chasing your family’s legacy. Maybe it’s time you made one of your own.”

“And J.S. High might just be the best place to start,” Khian finished.

Max wanted to argue with the two Dukes for looking at him like he was just a kid, but for some reason, he couldn’t say anything. Instead of being annoyed, he felt something inside him spark. Marcus saw it in his eyes, too, and he instantly knew that Max was definitely going to reconsider his suggestion now.

“Anyway, good luck, little brother. Not that you need it,” Marcus said, finally walking out of the room, Khian following behind him.

As soon as they were gone, Ari and Felix slipped back in, rushing Max and bombarding him with questions.

“Did he say anything about me? Did he tell you anything?” Ari asked first.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother? Why didn’t you tell me it was freakin’ Marcus Thompson? And why on earth does no one know about it?” Felix demanded.

They waited for answers, but Max was talking to himself, making his friends trade confused looks.

Max ignored them and walked to the window, looking down at the pavilion. A cluster of gaffers was shoving a serf around, and Max’s fist clenched in irritation.

Krist Hyusen was homophobic, and beyond the ranking system, that hatred had become another reason why students were suffering.

Was Marcus right about chasing something that’s beyond Viktor? Can Max choose to go against Jokers for the betterment of J.S. High, and not just for himself?

Cindy had told Max at the welcome ball that the Jokers needed him more than he needed them. Max still believed that Krist Hyusen isn’t entirely evil. It was obvious that he cared about his brotherhood, so maybe Max could start from there. 

“He’s not evil, just angry. And that anger became hate,” Max said to himself.

“Hello? Max? You still there?” Felix called out, looking at Max while he formed a new plan in his head.

Since Max accepted the challenge, he had to make every moment count. He needed to be left alone with Krist—make him open up. Because now he understood that to conquer the Master Joker…Max had to let out the crying little boy inside him first.

|END|

27 | Rat In A Maze

♟

FELIX, ARI, AND MAX headed to the Great Hall to grab their lunch. Max had been too preoccupied with making plans to remember the real problem: the jack-in-the-box he had received earlier. It was Ari who had to remind him that something might happen now that it was breaktime. 

When they arrived at the noisy cafeteria, the students didn’t fall silent. Instead, they all stared at Max as if he had a huge stain on his face.

Max scanned the hall. The brotherhoods were already at their places, even the Royals. At least fifty students with Joker brooches were also present. If things went down right now, it would be nearly impossible for Max to escape or even make a move.

“Look who we have here! My new little toy!” a voice suddenly echoed from the balcony, and that finally silenced the hall. 

Max looked up and saw none other than Krist Hyusen, leaning on the balustrade with a playful grin.

The rest of the Jokers began walking down the stairs until they surrounded Max. Master Joker followed, stepping in front of his new target while the others stood behind him.

Ari gulped in terror, and Felix tried not to faint. Even if they wanted to defend their friend, they knew they wouldn’t stand a chance against a brotherhood, let alone their leader.

“How ya feelin’, little toy?” Krist asked, looking at Max like he was candy he could easily snatch. But Max wasn’t intimidated. He stared back with a blank expression, which only made Krist laugh at the lack of reaction.

“Heard from my Jacks that you’re challenging me. I bet you expected something to happen after that,” Krist said, stepping closer. “Isn’t it fascinating? You can’t even function properly because you’re constantly thinking about what my Jacks will do, but in reality, they haven’t done anything yet. The waiting is already suffocating. That’s what makes this game so fun.”

Max still didn’t respond. But as he studied Krist, he sensed something was off—like he was performing for an audience.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Max finally said. “I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about what to eat because I’m starving.” He taunted, and the corner of Krist’s mouth twitched.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to eat my lunch.”

Max pushed past Krist and walked off. 

Everyone gasped at his audacity, especially Krist, who immediately grabbed Max’s shoulder to stop him. “What’s this? Are you walking away from me? You don’t find me a worthy opponent? Am I weak to you, little toy? If I am, say it to my face.” His grip tightened.

The Great Hall froze. Max couldn’t move, nor could Ari or Felix. Marcus, watching from his seat, was about to rush to his brother’s side when suddenly…

“Hands off the prize, Master Joker.”

The voice came from the opposite balcony. Everyone turned and saw Viktor leaning against the balustrade, his prince, Kim Hee-joon, beside him with his arms crossed.

Viktor eyed Krist and Max. When Krist glared back, Viktor gestured at Max’s collar. “He’s wearing an official brooch given by the president himself. If you don’t let go of the white uniform, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Everyone was stunned. It almost looked like Viktor was defending Max, but the young heir knew better. Rather than feeling honored by the king’s interjection, Max was only angered that Viktor still reduced him to “white uniform.”

“This is none of your business, king,” Krist snapped, but Viktor didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, come now. I’m just worried,” Viktor said with a mocking smile. “A king has to look out for his subjects. Isn’t that right, Baron?” he then asked, and everyone saw Krist’s fist clench in rage.

“Now, now, no need to fret. This is why you wasted so many resources on underlings who only use you, isn’t that right? Your brotherhood’s already stained because of your Jacks…” Viktor’s grin stretched unnervingly wide. But like someone flipped a switch, Viktor’s eyes sharpened, and the grin vanished into cold disdain. “…So you might as well fucking use them, you useless clown.”

Everyone in the hall felt the power in Viktor’s voice. It was too suffocating, even though the words weren’t directed at them. Even Max felt the chill as the insult reminded him of their first encounter.

“Where’s the fun if we don’t see the suffering? Don’t make me wait any longer,” Viktor finished, turning around and walking back to his seat.

Krist slowly released Max’s shoulder. Max exhaled, then faced him. He was expecting Krist to yell at him, maybe even throw a punch, but Krist didn’t do any of that. Instead, he gritted his teeth in blind rage. Max had to step away when he sensed the menace radiating from him.

“Oh, just you wait, Viktor. I’ll put on a show you’ll never forget,” Krist declared before glaring at Max. 

“I’ll break you into pieces, Sinclaire. I’ll break you until you wish you’d disappear.”

He and the Jokers stormed out, leaving Max standing in the center of the hall. Ari grabbed his arm, snapping him back. The three exchanged worried looks.

What had just happened was serious. Viktor had deliberately pushed Krist’s buttons, and now Max was starting to feel the suffocation Krist had spoken of.

“This is bad, Max. We don’t know what Krist is planning,” Ari said.

Max gulped and glanced around. The Jokers’ underlings were glaring daggers at him. Viktor’s influence was unreal. He could manipulate anyone, even another brotherhood leader. No wonder he’s the king of this castle.

“I think we should leave,” Felix suggested, and Ari nodded quickly.

It was better to escape now than wait for the inevitable. But as they got ready to drag their friend out, Max stopped them.

“It’s better if you guys avoid me today,” Max told his friends.

“What? Are you crazy?” Ari hissed. “Did you not see what just happened? Master Joker is planning something big. You’ll need us more than ever.”

Max understood the concern, but the truth was, they didn’t know what Krist had in store. He couldn’t risk them being used as pawns. Or worse, harmed because of him.

“Trust me,” he said, and Ari and Felix immediately looked at each other, fearing for Max’s safety more than their own. 

“Trust me,” Max repeated, touching both of their shoulders before finally walking out of the Great Hall alone. 

He didn’t know where he was going, but there was no point in hiding.

Max waited, and waited, and waited.

Finally, the bell rang, and classes were officially over. The day ended with Max being unscathed, and despite the growing paranoia, he was certain that Jokers wouldn’t target him outside of school. 

But that only meant one thing…

Max was getting another jack-in-the-box tomorrow. And this time, there’d be no more waiting.

…

“Max,” Felix whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Everyone surrounded him because just as he suspected, another jack-in-the-box had been left for him. But this time there was no note. Instead, his chair was defiled with vulgar words: Daddy’s boy, bitch, cock sucker, and even monstrous mother.

Ari clenched his fist. Even Gavriil, usually cold since day one, looked bothered.

Max glared at Ervin, assuming he and his friends had done it. But Ervin only averted his eyes and returned to his seat.

“What kind of useless vice president are you? Aren’t you going to do anything?” Ari suddenly snapped, walking up to the Elite and slamming his hands against his desk.

Max tried to calm his friend down, but Ari only ignored him. 

“A white uniform is being bullied. Do something.”

Gavriil stayed calm. He sighed before answering. “There’s a fine line between what I can and cannot do. The rules don’t explicitly punish bullying, but they don’t condone it either. Regardless, I can only suspend those I catch in the act. Without proof, I can’t help you.”

Ari cursed under his breath. He hated it, but Gavriil was right.

“It’s fine,” Max said quietly. He set the box on the ground and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sticky substance off his chair.

“You don’t have to do that. We’ll call a janitor,” Ari said, but Max continued cleaning.

Some students watched in amusement. The greatest heir of them all was scrubbing his own seat. One even tossed a tissue at him and sneered, “Isn’t that fitting? The members of the Omega Society are janitors after all.”

Laughter rippled, but Max kept working. Ari bit his tongue while Felix stepped forward with hand sanitizer and another handkerchief. Without saying anything, Felix began cleaning off the dirt on Max’s chair, too.

Max blinked in surprise. 

“The omegas have to help each other, right?” Felix said with a smile.

Ari groaned, scratching his head roughly before joining them. Their little display of camaraderie finally silenced the room.

“I didn’t become a gaffer just to clean chairs,” Ari complained, but Max only thanked them sincerely.

But while they were scrubbing the chair in perfect sync, an idea suddenly struck Max. He froze, then looked at his two friends. “Wait a second, he’s right. We’re the omegas. And what do we do when brotherhoods perform a custom?”

[J.S. High, at Omega Society’s clubroom ]

“No, no, no! I will not allow it!” Payton, the Omega Society’s club leader, shouted as he worked on the club budget. Max had explained his idea: use proof as leverage. If they could find out who carried out the pranks, maybe Gavriil would have to intervene. As omegas, they could request access to CCTV, but without the brotherhood’s order, Payton refused.

“We haven’t been called for a cleanup, which means we’re not allowed to act on anything. Unless a brotherhood requests it, my hands are tied,” Payton insisted. 

Ari, who was looking around the room with pity mixed with curiosity, commented, “He does have a point.”

Felix glared at the redhead and looked back at their club leader with pleading eyes. “Can’t we just fake it? We’re not allowed to disclose which brotherhoods ask us for help, so why not pretend one did?”

Payton stared like he was insane.

“Please, Payton,” Max persisted. “The Jacks will prank me all day. If I can get to the cameras and figure out where they planted things, it’ll help.”

“And besides, we wouldn’t even have a club without Max,” Felix added. Even though that sudden fact was unnecessary, it was still crucial to deliver their final blow.

Payton sighed, rubbed his temples, then gave in. “Fine. I’ll write the permit and letter. Hand them to security. But if I get in trouble, I’ll tell them you blackmailed me. Understood?”

Max and Felix grinned in triumph. Even Ari, who was now holding a duster, seemed excited.

“Alright, no time to waste. Let’s go.”

Soon, the three were in the security office. With their permit accepted, they were given fifteen minutes to check the cameras. J.S. High had hundreds of cameras, but Max believed that fifteen minutes was enough for them to find…something.

“All right. First, we find who defiled my chair. If we can get clear footage, we’ll bring it to the vice president,” Max said.

They sped through the footage until Felix spotted their evidence. “There!”

Two freshmen serfs appeared on screen, carrying markers and a bottle of the same sticky substance.

“Who are they?” Max muttered, a little disappointed that it wasn’t Ervin. It would have been great if Max could get him in trouble for once.

“Let’s see…” Ari zoomed in. “Black armbands…Freshmen. It seems like they’re applying as Jokers’ underlings. This was probably their initiation.”

Max recorded the footage. Then the three split up and individually searched other feeds for signs of pranks.

“I saw a bunch of freshmen loosening the screws on our cafeteria tables,” Ari reported.

“Nothing on my end,” Felix said.

“Same here. It looks like Jokers aren’t wasting time with petty tricks and are letting the first years do all the work. If the Jacks are planning something, it’s definitely going to be worse than this,” Max concluded.

They were about to move to the next footage when a familiar sound echoed at the end of the hall.

The three looked at each other and listened more closely.

As suspected…it was a jack-in-the-box.

“Ignore it,” Ari muttered, but Max was already walking out of the security room before anyone could even protest.

Ari groaned, following Max as Felix trailed behind him. At the end of the hall lay a box which was a bit different than the ones Max had already received. When they got closer, they saw the initials engraved on top:  M.L.S.

“If that’s not my name, I don’t know what is,” Max said, reaching for it.

“Stop!” Felix caught Max’s hand. “This is obviously a trap. You shouldn’t open it. What if it’s a gun? What if it fires at you the moment you open the box?”

“Okay, even I think that’s extreme,” Ari commented.

Max chuckled. “I don’t think Master Joker would risk expulsion over a prank,” the serf said confidently.

Felix reluctantly released him. 

Before Max could open the box, Ari and Felix ducked behind the lockers for protection. The assumption was crazy, but if a gun actually was inside the box, Ari wasn’t ready to hear Felix tell him, “I told you so.”

“Here it goes…” Max bent over and finally opened the box.

Felix and Ari instinctively closed their eyes.

“Shit—”

Red paint was sprayed right across Max’s chest, making it look like Max was shot. So when the two goofballs opened their eyes back, they almost fainted.

“Holy shit! Max! Are you okay?!” Ari ran to Max’s side, checking on him.

Max pushed the gaffer away and tried to wipe the paint from his cheek. “Relax, it’s just paint,” Max revealed, making both Felix and Ari sigh in relief.

“Okay, that’s on us. This was the most obvious trap, yet we still fell for it. Is it curiosity? Stupidity? Who fucking knows?” Ari sarcastically said, kicking the box away in frustration.

Max stared at the mess. “I thought I’d at least get a hint,” he said with a sigh. “Looks like they mimicked what we did with fake blood during our club presentation.”

“That makes sense. They were front and center when we did our skit,” Felix remembered.

“Well, you should change. We have PE uniforms in the locker room. We’ll explain it to the professors when we get back to class, “ Ari said, and they headed to the locker rooms near the pool, beside the Hall of Janus. 

It was risky, but it was lunchtime. Surely the brotherhoods were still in the Great Hall.

“We should hurry,” Felix said as Max removed his cap.

“I’ll guard the door,” Ari added, and Felix nodded.

“Then I’ll make it quick.” 

Max went inside the room and searched for his locker. As soon as he found his name, he unbuttoned his coat and opened the storage. He reached for his PE uniform and pulled it out, but as he did so, a folded note fell to the ground. 

Max furrowed his brows and picked it up.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/0d8f60ab95341c61e55d0c3855c835255fb1a894/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6265444e7761514357714a585a673d3d2d313033333133363834302e313839626137316366306439336435643433323538353239383335352e706e67)               

Confused, Max turned…

…and a white cloth clamped over his mouth before he could even react.

Max immediately struggled, but the culprit was too strong. The smell from the cloth overwhelmed him. He fought for a few more seconds before his legs gave out. His vision blurred, and then everything went completely black.

|END|

28 | A Boy Who Likes To Play

♟

IT DIDN’T EVEN FEEL like a second when Max opened his eyes again. His head hurt, and so did his entire body. He blinked repeatedly, trying to force the blur out of his vision. When everything became clear, he realized he was in a toilet cubicle.

Max tried to move, but soon found out that he couldn’t even lift his hand. His hands and feet were tied.

He wasn’t wearing his paint-stained coat anymore, but what shocked him most was that the buttons of his shirt had been undone, and the words public toilet were written across his abdomen. His pants were also pulled down, giving anyone who saw him a full view of his boxers. To top it off, his mouth was covered with duct tape.

For a second, Max thought he had been kidnapped, but then he remembered what had happened in the locker room. He knew no one else would pull a stunt this dangerous except the Jokers.

The restroom was silent except for the annoying drip from the faucet. Thankfully, the quiet helped him concentrate and take slow breaths. He remained calm despite his situation. It was commendable, since anyone else in his position would have panicked.

Max had wanted to know how far the Jokers would go, but this was on a level none of them had expected.

“ Max !“ someone shouted from outside.

His eyes widened instantly. There was no mistaking the voice.

That was Marcus.

“ Max! Where the fuck are you ?!“ the voice yelled, louder this time.

The shouting went on for several seconds before the restroom door finally opened. Max tried to answer, but the tape held his mouth shut. Only muffled sounds could come out of him.

“This is the last restroom we haven’t checked. If he isn’t here, we have to tell your uncle. I think you know well enough what would happen if your family finds out about this,” another voice said. Max knew who that was, too. It was no doubt his friend, Ari.

“No, he has to be here. Max! Answer me!” Marcus kept calling.

Max thrashed enough to make noise. The muffled screams were still faint, but apparently loud enough.

“I heard something!” Khian, Marcus’s closest friend from BND, shouted.

“Max?!”

Cubicle doors banged open one after another until they reached his stall. The door didn’t budge.

“It’s fucking locked!”

“Marcus, calm down,” Khian tried.

“Calm down?! Did you not see the picture?!”

Max paused at that. He put the pieces together—what Marcus had said, the panic, the search—and drew a breath as the intent behind Jokers’ stunt snapped into focus. Max was the victim, but he wanted to laugh. All this for what, public humiliation? To prove to Viktor that he could be as vicious as he was?

“I’m going to kill that clown. I’m going to fucking kill him!” Marcus shouted one last time before kicking the door so hard it flew open.

Max squinted at the light as three figures stood in front of him. Marcus, Khian, and Ari froze at the sight of the young heir. It seemed as though the pictures didn’t give justice to how bad Max looked. No one would have ever imagined him to be in such a humiliating situation. Not Max. Not the most powerful heir in the world.

Marcus was the first to react. He sprinted towards Max, and instead of untying him, he let his instinct take over. He hugged his little brother with his hands trembling in anger and guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Max. This is my fault. I knew Jokers were trouble, but instead of stopping them, I encouraged you to face them. I never thought Krist would go this far. He’s never done anything this cruel before,” Marcus blurted so fast that Max barely caught half of it.

Max tried to speak, but the tape made it useless. Marcus got the point and carefully peeled it off.

“What were you saying?” he asked.

“Help me remove these binds first, you idiot,” Max said, and Ari exhaled in relief.

“If you can still talk like that, it means you’re alright,” Ari muttered as Marcus worked the knots at Max’s wrists and ankles.

“Found his coat,” Khian said, handing over the uniform.

Max stood slowly as Marcus helped him pull his pants up. Out of the stall, he caught Ari looking awkward and walked over to jab him in the shoulder.

“You want to say something, gaffer?” Max asked.

Ari scratched the back of his head, hesitant. “We were guarding outside the locker room and didn’t even notice you were abducted. I’m sorry, Max. I might just be the worst protector ever.”

“The great Ari Faulkner is apologizing? Today must really be my lucky day,” Max said dryly, and Ari swatted his arm.

Max laughed, then smiled and gently patted Ari’s head to show he was fine. Ari was flustered, but when he saw Marcus and Khian staring, he immediately pushed Max away in embarrassment.

“Anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered if you noticed,” Max said. “Jokers planned everything. When I got to my locker, there was a note, which means they anticipated I’d go there from the beginning. I was too focused on the Jacks and forgot how capable a leader Krist Hyusen was.”

“What do you mean they planned everything?” Khian asked.

Max drew a steadying breath and retraced the steps. “They trashed my chair, mocking me because I’m an omega, but the point was to make me remember our club’s authority. They knew we’d try the security room for CCTV. That’s why the next jack-in-the-box was planted near that area. After the paint, they knew I’d change clothes and head to the locker room. That’s where I found the note…and where they grabbed me.”

“That’s…a stretch,” Ari said, unconvinced.

“No, it tracks,” Khian agreed. “Krist wouldn’t be a baron if he weren’t clever. Their whole brand is precision pranks. They call him Master Joker for a reason.”

“Well, whether it was an elaborate scheme or just purely coincidental, the important thing now is that at least you’re okay,” Ari said, and the Dukes nodded.

“Well, now that we’ve settled the first problem, let’s talk about the other one. Where’s the picture you mentioned?” Max asked. The three of them glanced away, and Max’s face hardened. “Show me.”

With no other choice, Ari took out his phone and pulled up the school’s main website.

The photo showed Max, unconscious on a toilet, looking wrecked. The caption read: If you’re ever feeling horny, don’t forget to visit the school’s most expensive public toilet!

“Disgusting,” Max said after taking a good look, handing the phone back to Ari, who immediately exited the site.

“The Elites are already doing everything they can to remove it and trace who posted,” Ari explained before turning away from Max. “But it might take a while since—”

Max frowned. “Where’s Felix?”

“About that…”

Max’s eyes widened. Before they could even explain it to him, Max already knew.

“Don’t tell me—”

“Your friend was summoned as soon as the picture went up,” Marcus said. “The Jokers requested a cleanup. Per your club’s motto, he couldn’t refuse. Any CCTV footage or evidence they had is gone.”

Max squatted and rubbed his temples in frustration. Not only did he let the Jokers do something like this to him, but he also put Felix in a tight spot. “They really planned all this. How could I be so careless?” He looked up. “I’m guessing Krist skipped lunch.”

“All the barons did,” Marcus said. “Pretty sure they knew I’d kill them if they showed up.”

“And Viktor?”

“He laughed like a madman in the Great Hall when the photo was uploaded,” Khian said. “He was in such a good mood, he even gave away desserts.”

Max got up and walked to the sink, scrubbing the word slut off of his forehead, which he only noticed when he saw the photo. “That man…He’s just toying with all of us for entertainment.”

After washing up, he checked his collar and sighed with relief. The brooch from his uncle was still there. It was funny because Max didn’t even want to take the brooch in the first place, but now, it was the only thing he was counting on the most.

“Do you want to press charges? I’m sure this already—”

Max met Marcus’s eyes in the mirror and cut him off. “No. Leave it. I want them to know I’m not backing down after such childish tactics.”

They had expected that from him, but hearing it out loud still shocked them.

“Max, you were drugged and tied up in a toilet. Our father won’t let this go. He’ll do something,” Marcus said, worry bleeding through.

“Which is why I trust you not to tell anyone, especially that old man,” Max insisted. “I’ll believe in this school’s motto. Whatever happens in J.S. High stays in J.S. High. Others have faced far more humiliating pranks, and they aren’t complaining, so why should I?”

No one answered. At this point, they were probably thinking he was as crazy as Viktor.

“What’s the plan then? You must have one if you’re this confident,” Ari said.

Max inhaled, thought about it for a while, then looked at Marcus and Khian. “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor?” Khian raised a brow. “That’s rare. White uniforms, let alone serfs, don’t usually ask favors from the third strongest brotherhood.”

“I know it’s a lot. I’m willing to pay the price, whatever the outcome. But Jokers can’t touch me directly except through their Jacks, and I’m not ranked high enough to defend myself.”

“So what are you implying?”

Max faced the two powerful Brotherhood members, determined. “We’re putting on a show that’ll leave even Viktor speechless. And I need BND, and vice president Gavriil, to make it happen.”

|END|

29 | What’s Your Price?

♟

THE FOLLOWING DAY, MAX went to school as if nothing had happened. He walked up the steps toward the Keep with an expressionless face. Everyone stared at him in shock. No one had expected him to show up.

“He really went to school today.”

“He’s got guts, I’ll give him that.”

If people thought Max would be embarrassed just because his body had been defiled and publicly mocked, then they’re fools. Max was the highest-ranking heir for a reason. Something that petty wouldn’t faze him.

“Hey, Sinclaire! I’m feeling kinda horny. Wanna help me out here?” a student called while grabbing his crotch. Laughter rippled around him, but Max ignored it and continued down the hallway.

Some tried to touch him; others even smacked his ass, which angered him more. But Max kept his composure. The last thing he wanted was to snap and let them break him.

“Maximilian!” someone called, and Max flinched before he could stop himself. For a second, he thought it was Ari, but the caller stepped alongside him and patted his back. 

“It’s been a while, Maximilian. How are you holding up?”

“President Ian,” Max greeted, bowing his head slightly.

Students nearby stared at the highest-ranking white uniform with awe. His presence alone was enough to make others stop picking on Max. Unlike with Viktor, the white uniforms looked at Ian with respect, not fear. Being the number-one Elite was a feat.

“It seems like I haven’t seen you in a while,” Max said, making Ian chuckle.

“It seems like I can’t say the same to you,” he replied. “But don’t worry, the Elites are doing everything they can to remove any trace of that horrendous picture.”

“Like that would make any difference. But thanks anyway,” Max said honestly.

“You know I could do more if I wanted to, but I don’t have enough evidence to suspend the Jokers…thanks to the Omega Society. And if I did, it was probably their Jacks who acted, and I can’t do anything to white uniforms,” Ian explained. It was obvious he could do more, but he restrained himself because these things were part of the school’s system, and Max wasn’t going to be an exception.

Honestly, Max hadn’t expected Ian Rothman to do anything in the first place.

“You suspending them is the last thing I want. I can’t conquer a brotherhood if they’re under probation,” Max said, and Ian grinned.

“So it’s true. You’re planning to join the Elites, and you’re going to use the brotherhoods as quick access,” Ian said, folding his arms, not threatened, but clearly interested in Max’s reason.

“You think I can’t do it?” Max asked, one brow lifting.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Sinclaire, anyone can join the Elites, not just you. I welcome competition—that’s what this school is about. Everyone, even serfs like you, is a candidate for Elite president. That’s why I work thrice as hard to keep my position,” Ian said without sarcasm.

“And even though I believe in everyone, I know you’ll catch up faster than anyone I know. I’ll wait for you, Maximilian. Let’s meet at the top, and then we’ll decide who’s number one,” he added, encouraging rather than threatening. The way he treated Max as a worthy opponent reminded Max why Ian was so respected.

“Now, I don’t want to waste your time any longer. I’ll see you around, Maximilian. And good luck. I heard something big is about to go down today. I look forward to how you’ll handle it this time,” Ian said with such grace, waving at Max and finally taking his leave.

“Are you worried about me, Mr. President? You should be careful. Others might think you have favorites,” Max teased with a grin, but Ian only lifted a hand in farewell.

When he disappeared, Max headed straight to his classroom. As expected, another jack-in-the-box was waiting for him. The only difference this time was that he didn’t even have a chair anymore. It was nowhere to be seen.

“They’re expecting me to sit on the floor now?” Max muttered, approaching the box, only for Ervin to stick a leg out and trip him.

The class laughed. Ervin didn’t even look at him, just kept scrolling on his phone. Max was about to react when Ari arrived and pulled him back.

“Let’s keep calm,” The gaffer said. “You just survived yesterday. Don’t make it worse.”

“It’s hard to keep cool when people call you a bitch and a public toilet the moment you step on campus,” Max said, unseriously. He set his bag on Ari’s desk and knelt to check the box.

“That’s the third one this week. New record,” Ari observed.

Max was about to answer when Felix burst in and ran straight to him.

“Max! I’m so sorry!” Felix grabbed Max and hugged him, eyes teary.

Max was startled, but he expected the reaction. He patted Felix’s head, and when Felix pulled back, Max covered his mouth lightly. “Before you say anything, yesterday wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty for doing your duty as an Omega. I’m proud you followed our motto regardless of our friendship.”

Felix removed Max’s hand and hugged him again. “I don’t care what people say about you. You’re the nicest person I know.”

“Aww, what a sweet boyfriend,” someone snickered, setting off laughter again.

“What the fuck did you say, small dick?” Ari snapped, and the laughter flipped on the heckler.

The class drifted back to their routines until the crank-tune of a jack-in-the-box suddenly echoed from the campus speakers. Ari, Felix, and the rest of Class II-A froze.

Ervin said nothing and bolted out of the room, joining a stream of students rushing down the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Max asked.

“That’s a signal. Master Joker is calling all his Jacks,” Felix said.

“Is that bad?”

“Oh, I don’t know—yes?!” Ari exclaimed.

“Is this even allowed? Shouldn’t the vice president do something?” Max asked.

“ He’s not here ,“ Ari whispered, leaning in. “ Hopefully, he’s already talking with your brother.“

Students crowding the doorways watched Jacks sprint toward Jokers’ base. Everyone was talking amongst themself, curious and excited. But the growing noise stopped in an instant when a figure appeared at Class II-A’s entrance.

Everyone stood straight and bowed. Even Felix and Ari bowed in shock.

Why am I meeting everyone today? Max thought, bowing to the charming prince, Ren Adachi.

“All of you may leave. We need to have a chat with the baron’s ’ little toy’   for a while,” Ren said, looking at Max. 

No one said a word and simply stepped out of the room. Felix and Ari looked to Max, who nodded to signal them that he’d be fine. As soon as they left, the other half of PHD’s Pretty Duo, Akihiko Sakuraii, entered and locked the door.

“How may I help you, my Prince?” Max asked, almost making Ren laugh.

“It hasn’t been long since you strutted around me at morning assembly, and now you call me Prince ? Has being Jokers’ toy humbled you, white uniform?” Ren teased, but Max didn’t answer.

“I’m impressed, Sinclaire. You haven’t even done anything, and our Master Joker is already fired up. Our mornings have been exciting, so we wanted to thank you,” Ren said with a smile.

“He’s not fired up over me,” Max said evenly. “He’s fired up over your king…Viktor.”

“Well, we can’t blame the barons. Our king finds humor in those he deems lower than him. I’d be filled with hatred, too, if I were in his position.” Aki stepped in, took Max’s hand, and kissed the back of it. “Don’t you agree?”

Max yanked his hand back and took a step away. “If you have nothing else, I’ll—”

“We’re messengers from the king himself,” Ren cut in. “He wanted to inform you of the Jokers’ next move.”

Before Max could question it, Ren caught his belt buckle and tugged him close to whisper, “ Let me give you a hint. Do you know what prisoners do to pretty boys like you? “

Max’s eyes widened as he shoved Ren away on instinct.

Ren composed himself and dusted his sleeve. “It’s going to be broadcast live. They claimed it as Master Joker’s ultimate prank.”

Max went still. He’d heard threats before, some had even planned to assassinate him as a child, but this was different. This was no longer a “ prank. “

“This has gone too far. What would they even gain from that?” he asked, confusion and anger bleeding through for the first time.

Ren chuckled while Aki leaned on a desk, arms crossed. “Don’t ask us. We don’t know either. And before you say we’re making this up, we’re not. The king told us to warn you, so we’re warning you. We don’t lie about things that don’t personally gain us.”

“Why would a Stepanov help me?” Max asked, and the princes shared a grin.

“He’s not helping you,” Ren clarified. “He thinks this is over the top. Of course, there’s a price, but we’ll discuss it later.”

Krist Hyusen was losing it. If he pushed this through, Max wouldn’t stay silent. He’d send him to jail and—

“Wait…”

Max’s thoughts snapped into place. “You’re right. Viktor isn’t helping me. He’s protecting the system. He’s making sure Krist doesn’t cross a line. If Krist fell, Jokers would crumble, and the House of Kings’ ranking would fracture.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aki said with a playful grin that gave everything away.

Max took a deep breath and rewound the past days. He didn’t know the specifics of Krist’s relationship with Viktor, but it was obvious Viktor always targeted Jokers more than any of the brotherhoods, feeding Krist’s inferiority.

And Krist finally decided to snap back.

All this time, Master Joker was never targeting Max. He did all that…to target Viktor.

Krist wanted to break the system, and Max was the perfect student who had enough influence and name to create a buzz. Targeting Max was a potential scandal that could ruin their entire house’s reputation, and only one person would be blamed for their house’s downfall, and that would be Viktor. 

Max realized Viktor was only saving himself, trying to fix what he’d started, and wanted Max to do it for him.

“Why did he need to use me just to get Viktor? I never intended to become his pawn. All I wanted was to face him as an equal. Betting on him during the battle wasn’t even to offend or challenge him. He’s J.S. High’s lowest-ranked brotherhood. I thought he’d want to be my ally. But he started this. He gave me the jack-in-the-box. I didn’t ask for it,” Max said aloud.

The princes laughed, almost hysterically.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

Ren met Max’s gaze, stepping close to tip his chin. “You really are just a boy. I’m surprised you’ve come this far with that arrogance.”

Max shoved his hand away, but Ren only looked amused.

“He’ll never face you,” Aki honestly told him. “Master Joker, I mean.”

“You’ll never face him as an opponent. Much less an ally. And do you know why, Sinclaire?”

Max didn’t ask, but he wanted the answer.

Ren’s sly expression flattened into something serious. “Because you see him as lesser…just like everyone else does.”

Max was silent for a moment.

Not because he disagreed.

But because he couldn’t deny it.

“You look at him as if he’s easy. You received the box, and what did you do? You laughed. You think that if you play long enough, he’ll give in and give you what you want. He doesn’t see you as worthy because you don’t see him as worthy. The bet you paid fueled his fire. That’s why he gave you the box. That’s why he chose you,” Ren said, every word making Max falter.

“Like everyone in the House of Kings, you don’t see Jokers as fearsome, let alone a baron,” Aki added. “The fact that a mere white uniform talks like you do makes it hilarious. You treat him the way Viktor treats him. If I were him, I’d hate you too.”

“N-No, that’s not what I—”

Max had expected Master Joker to see him as an equal, but all this time, he’d never seen Krist as one. After the information Marcus and Khian shared, he swore he would try something different and help Krist become a better man, but he did the opposite. He let his judgment get the best of him.

 He’d treated it all like a game he could outmaneuver.

What Krist…what Master Joker wanted, was what President Ian had given Max: to be seen as a worthy opponent. Ian knew Max lacked rank and position. He was also aware of Max’s faults and vices, yet he never looked down on him.

In the end, it was Max who hadn’t been playing fair.

“I have to—”

A siren blared across campus. Ren and Aki traded raised eyebrows. 

The sound was familiar. 

A banner was pulled.

Someone declared war.

“Marcus did it. He actually convinced BND,” Max murmured, then looked at the princes.

“This is unexpected. What did you do this time, Sinclaire?” Ren asked, checking his phone. The two leaned over the screen. Slowly, matching grins spread.

“Oh, you’re good, Sinclaire. Really good. Looks like you already had a plan. No need for our warning after all,” Ren said, impressed.

“What else would we expect from the most respected heir?” Aki added.

Ren showed him the screen. “An exclusive battle. Jokers vs BND. And a note from Vice President Gavriil Alexeev saying that any white uniform who attends will be suspended. Clever.”

Max was about to reply when an idea hit—one that might change the game for him and for the Jokers.

“You said Jokers planned to broadcast me live, right? Where, exactly?” Max asked.

“We only came here to warn you, not give away information for free,” Aki smirked, slinging an elbow over Ren’s shoulder.

Max weighed his options. It was checkmate either way. But if he wanted to finally settle a score with Krist, he needed to take all the resources he could get, no matter the stakes.

“All right, then. What’s your price?”

|END|

30 | A Joker’s Game

♟

MAX RAN TO THE stadium as soon as Ren and Aki told him where the Jokers had planned to stage their final act. According to the two princes, Master Joker had ordered his Jacks to bring Max to the stadium and publicly humiliate him there—a plan that, miraculously, aligned with Max’s own.

Apparently, lady luck was on his side. Though luck always came with a price.

He had asked for two favors yesterday. One from his brother, and one from BND.

From Marcus: lie to Vice President Gavriil and push for an exclusive battle, since BND “needed to settle a score” with the Jokers. Max knew Gavriil wouldn’t have the grounds to refuse, especially since there wasn’t any rules against it. With no audience, the Jacks couldn’t interfere.

From BND: he asked Khian to convince their leader to pull the Jokers’ banner so he could declare a brotherhood battle. Max wasn’t sure Hans de Vries would agree, and Marcus had made it clear that BND’s leader didn’t consider Max worth worrying about, but judging by the sirens, the plan had played out perfectly.

“Sinclaire. This is where you stop,” someone said as Max reached the stadium doors.

Max, who came in a rush, looked at the two Elites in front of him, Justin and Dustin Griffiths. The vice president’s orders have taken full effect. The student council was already placed on duty, making sure no white uniform entered the stadium.

“I need to get inside,” Max said.

“Okay,” Dustin replied. “But afterward, you have to face suspension.” 

“But I—”

“You two. The vice president needs you in the office,” a new voice cut in.

Max turned, and the Elites’ secretary, Richard Young, walked up to them with his posture straight and uniform perfectly ironed. This was the first time Max had ever faced the rank 3 up close, but his presence was definitely as overwhelming as the president’s and the vice.

“You’re good by yourself?” Justin asked.

Richard nodded, and the two made their way to the office as instructed.

As soon as the two left, Max got ready to negotiate with the secretary. 

He was thinking of a way to persuade Richard to let him in, but before he could say anything, the secretary turned away and said, “You have two choices. Return to your room, or sneak your way inside. Fortunately for you, I’m not interested enough to know what you decide on.”

Max blinked, unsure if Richard was trying to help him or if he was testing him. But one thing’s for sure, Max didn’t have time to think about it.

Max snuck inside the stadium and was welcomed by a bunch of brotherhoods who were already waiting.

“Oh wow, the Elites are doing a very poor job guarding the door. I’m quite disappointed,” Viktor said as soon as the door behind Max closed.

Crazy 8 and Cigarettes were sitting at the lower bleachers, while PHD and Busters were already on stage.

The members of Boys Next Door, on the other hand, were already at the battle grounds with Jokers standing opposite them. The rest of the members wore their clown masks, except for their Master Joker. Even from the entrance, Max could already feel the anger and annoyance Krist was emitting.

“Look who’s here, Baron!” Viktor announced. “The toy that ruined your precious plan. You must’ve risked so much, only for it to be ruined in a day. Looks like even a white uniform can defeat you.”

Krist’s eyes snapped to Max.

Viktor was pouring fuel on an already raging fire. None of this would have happened without him, yet he’s out there making things worse.

“You’re wrong,” Max managed to say as he walked his way to the center.

Krist wasted no time. He got up to Max and grabbed him by the collar. The baron pulled him so violently that Max’s cap fell off his head.

Everyone was startled, but no one stopped Krist. Even the ever-so protective brother, Marcus Thompson, could only grit his teeth in irritation. Marcus did what he had to do. Now it was Max’s turn to finish what he started.

After everything that had happened to him for the past few days, this was the first time Max had ever stood this close to the Jokers’ leader. Compared to their encounter at the Great Hall, Max could sense the anger in Krist’s eyes. And this time, no one was going to protect him. Not even his brooch.

The Sinclaire brooch shielded him from the brotherhoods. But with no witness in sight, the brooch was basically useless.

“You like making a fool out of me, Sinclaire?” Krist snarled, knuckles grinding into Max’s collarbone. “You were so brave challenging me, but in the end, you ran to your brother to finish the job and humiliate me in front of the brotherhoods. This isn’t how you play, Sinclaire. I hate cheaters the most.”

Max waited until the fury in Krist’s eyes settled a fraction. When he felt the baron calming a bit, Max finally pushed him away, his strength surprising Krist and himself.

“I didn’t cheat,” Max said. “It’s true that I bet on your brotherhood during the battle because I wanted to get your attention. And when you targeted me, I realized that your custom was the perfect way for me to reach you and prove myself to you.”

“Prove yourself? Don’t make me laugh. Letting BND defeat me doesn’t prove you anything.”

Max inhaled to answer, but BND’s leader, Hans, suddenly stepped in. 

“The last thing I want is to defend a Sinclaire, but you leave me no choice. We called a formal battle to gather here. Thanks to the vice president, there are no other witnesses, so we’re under no obligation to follow the usual rules.”

“What do you mean?” Krist asked, brows furrowed.

Hans didn’t answer, so Max faced the baron again, pointing in his direction as if declaring war. “Master Joker, leader of Rank 6 Brotherhood, Jokers. I challenge you once more. I will take you on myself. In this battle, I’m your opponent.”

The entire stadium fell silent. Even the Royals couldn’t say a single word at the sudden declaration. But seconds ticked, and the silence was soon hijacked by Krist’s laughter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Krist exclaimed. 

When no one laughed with him, the baron scanned everyone’s faces and eventually stopped. He then turned to Hans like he had lost his mind. “You agreed to this? Really, Hans? I didn’t think you could be pushed around by a white uniform.”

Hans’s jaw set, but he stayed composed. “I didn’t accept easily. My brothers spelled out the benefits. I don’t throw away an advantage.”

“You’re an idiot,” Krist scoffed.

“Why? Are you scared to battle me, Master Joker?” Max said.

Krist’s expression flattened. “Scared? Why would I be?”

“Just a wild guess,” Max replied.

“You’re known for using your Jacks. But the way I see it, the only reason you use them is because you’re afraid to act on your hatred alone. People fear what your underlings do, not what you do. You think that as long as your hands are clean—as long as you’re not directly involved—you’re never wrong.

But tell me, Master Joker…what have you actually done in J.S. High that makes you deserving of the title Baron ?“

“Oh, enough with this bullshit!” Krist snapped, rage peaking. 

This time, Max didn’t flinch.

“You’re full of shit. Acting as if you know me when you clearly don’t. If you want to battle me so badly, fine. I accept.”

“Good. Since there are no rules, we can do what we want. But the mechanic stays. Whoever plants the flag on the enemy base wins.”

Krist nodded, finally focused. He was about to turn away when he suddenly remembered something. Looking back at Max with a mocking smile, he said, “Do you want to at least get some backup? Don’t worry. I’ll give you that, at least.”

Max shook his head, so Krist shrugged and turned to his brotherhood to get ready.

Max watched as Master Joker walked away from him. He wanted to let the results of the battle speak for him, but Max could no longer hold it in. This was his last chance to finally make his intentions clear.

“Baron,” Max called out, and Krist instantly stopped in his tracks.

“I might not have sent the right message, Master Joker, but I see you as an outstanding leader who taught the Jokers the essence of brotherhood. I knew you wouldn’t treat me any differently than the others, that’s why I kept accepting your jack-in-the-box. It wasn’t to offend you or belittle you. That was never my intention.”

Krist’s back was still facing Max, but everyone else saw the sudden shift in Krist’s expression.

“I never saw you as lesser. I never compared you to anyone else. But allow me to tell you this,” Max paused, hands clenched. “You are not low because of your rank. You stand low because you decided that’s where you’ll stay.”

The words knocked the air out of the room. Even the members of Jokers stared. They were used to being treated like they didn’t belong in the House of Kings, but Max made it sound like the opposite.

Krist touched his chest. Without turning to Max, he suddenly said, “I’ll battle alone as well.”

All the members of Jokers reacted, but the decision was already made. There was no backing out anymore.

“Splendid idea! Don’t you think, my prince?” Viktor joined in like an annoying commentator.

Kim Hee-joon, bored on the throne beside him, gave a lazy nod. Viktor clapped, delighted.

They were set to withdraw to the sidelines when CJ—Cigarettes’ leader—rose from the bleachers. “Isn’t this a little boring? There should be a catch. Simply declaring a winner and a loser isn’t fun.”

“I agree with Sir Mills. There must be stakes so both parties fight seriously,” said Crazy 8’s leader. Max quickly looked at Siren. This was his first time hearing the marquis’ voice up close. He swore for a second that he heard a woman.

“Stakes?” Krist turned back around, facing Max again. This time, his expression was no longer hostile. “I’m okay with that. You?”

“No reason not to agree to it,” Max answered.

“Fine,” Krist said. “Since you started this, name your stakes.”

Max was surprised that Krist let him pick. “Alright, since you all want to make this interesting, let’s do this. If I win, you disown all underlings, remove their brooches, and strip their merits. Your Jacks don’t care about your brotherhood. They care about the title and the power. You won’t really lose anything.”

Krist considered. “And if I win?”

Max scanned the faces around the arena. This was the moment to prove himself. If he failed at the first obstacle, the rest of the brotherhoods will never take him seriously.

“I’ll leave J.S. High. Do whatever you want after,” he announced.

Gasps rippled. Even Kim Hee-joon sat up straight in surprise. It was the most expression he showed since the beginning of the school year.

“That’s very tempting,” Krist said, glancing at his brothers. 

Everyone nodded, collectively agreeing to the terms.

Krist looked back at Max. “Fair enough,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Let’s not waste time, little toy. Let’s play.”

…

Max stood in the armory with Marcus. As a non-brotherhood student, Max didn’t own any weapons. Thanks to his brother, he had access to BND’s stash, a decision that Marcus had to force on their leader.

“You want a gun?” Marcus asked, a question he never knew he’d ever ask his brother.

Max was busy scanning the guns displayed in glass cases. In a regular battle, members of Beta Society would be assisting him. However, this was anything but regular.

“I know the basics, but I’m not good enough, so I’ll pass,” Max answered.

“Then follow me. BND’s stash is here,” Marcus said, and Max followed.

The two walked to BND’s private locker room without saying a word. Max glanced at his brother and decided to break the silence.

“You seem calm about the whole situation. You think I’ll win it?”

Marcus didn’t answer until they reached the stash. When they arrived, the duke began opening containers, pulling out all sorts of weapons, and placing them on the table. He then grabbed a bulletproof vest and handed it over to Max.

“Krist isn’t the best shot among the six leaders, but he’s good. He’ll definitely use that advantage against you.”

“Marcus, are you—”

“You need a strategy.” Marcus pointed to a practice map spread over another table. Two bases were marked at opposite ends. The floor was white with blue neon lanes, like a sci-fi grid. Boxes and barrels dotted the field as cover. “Since this isn’t an official brotherhood battle, you’ll use the training ground as a default.”

“These are the other weapons,” he added, showing rows of racks and shelves. “Use one that you’re most confident with.”

Marcus started pulling out another set of knives, and Max had had enough of the sidestepping. He grabbed Marcus’s arm and forced him to turn around.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“If I tell you to stop this, will you?” Marcus shot back. 

The question was something Max wasn’t expecting. After all, Marcus agreed to do this. Why was he backing out now?

Marcus rubbed his temple and leaned on the table. “When you asked that favor, I almost said no. I know your worth better than anyone. That’s why I wanted you here. But when I remembered that picture of you tied up, I just…I shouldn’t have involved you. Uncle convinced me this was right, but it was stupid. We shouldn’t have put that pressure on you.”

Max removed his cap and took a step closer to his brother. He’d expected this guilt. After all, Max wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Marcus. 

But at the same time, Max wasn’t forced to enroll in J.S. High. He chose to be here despite seeing how the school was. Marcus had nothing to do with everything that had happened to him. He shouldn’t feel guilty.

“For years, I didn’t want anything,” Max said. “People think a boy with everything can’t be empty. But as a Sinclaire and a Lemieux, all I ever knew was to follow orders and repeat history. At J.S. High…I finally want something for myself. And do you know what that is?”

He didn’t wait. “I want to reach the top as Max and prove my worth. You were right, Marcus. I don’t always have to chase someone else to prove I can stand on my own. I can make my own legacy, just like you said.”

Marcus stood straight, came close, and looked his brother in the eye. 

“You asked Krist what he’s done to deserve being called a baron. Well then, tell me, Max, if I ask you the same thing…what have you actually done that makes you deserving of the title of  most powerful heir in the world…will you be able to answer?”

Max held his gaze, once again determined.

“If you really want to know my answer…go ahead and watch me.”

|END|

31 | Jack Out of the Box

♟

AFTER DELIBERATELY CHOOSING THE weapons he needed for victory, Max walked to the center of the battleground, holding BND’s flag since he obviously didn’t have one of his own.

He wasn’t wearing his cap or coat. Instead, a belt held the items he’d taken from BND’s weapons stash, and he wore the bulletproof vest Marcus had given him. It came out useful, since Krist held a gun just as Marcus had predicted.

Master Joker already had an advantage: this was the same ground the brotherhoods used for practice. He’d also been battling for years. His only disadvantage was habit. The baron was used to fighting with a group. Max could use that against him.

After finalizing the weapons needed for battle, the two met at the center. Max glanced over the audience of brotherhoods. Some looked excited, while a handful looked like they just wanted this “nonsense” to end.

In the sea of black uniforms, he spotted his brother. Marcus nodded encouragingly and mouthed, I’m watching.  A direct reply to what Max had told him earlier at the armory.

Max suppressed a smile before looking back at Krist’s serious face. The leader carried only a gun. To some, that might seem insulting, as if Krist found him too easy, but Max read it differently. In Krist’s first battle with Viktor, he also used a gun. Using one now meant he was as cautious as he had been against Busters.

“Good luck, Krist Hyusen,” Max said, surprising his opponent.

Krist scoffed and pulled on his clown mask. Max hadn’t expected a reply, but as he turned, Krist cleared his throat. “Good luck.”

Max smiled slightly and headed for his base. Krist did the same.

While the two got ready, Viktor stepped onto the stage with a microphone. “Welcome, everyone, to the second Battle of Brotherhoods!” he announced like he was an MC at a boxing match. Only three black uniforms in the crowd cheered.

“On the left, we have the prankster, the jester, the baron, the master of all jokes—the butt of the joke himself—Master Joker!” Viktor called out, more of an insult than an introduction. Regardless, the members of Jokers cheered.

“On the right, we have the serf, the omega, the ignorant and ambitious white uniform…” Viktor paused. “What was your name again?”

Max glared, and Viktor laughed like he was having the time of his life.

“Alright, quick notes. Each base has a circle on the floor. If your opponent steps on it, the circle turns orange. If they plant their flag, it turns red. And when it turns red, well, you basically brought shame to your entire bloodline,” Viktor said, as the two reached their bases.

“You have twelve minutes. The first to plant a flag on the enemy base wins. No rules today. Do whatever you want. Shall we begin our bidding?” the king managed to joke, irritating not only Krist but the rest of the brotherhoods watching.

“Just get on with it!” Krist snapped.

Viktor laughed and took out a blank gun. “Well then…Let the battle begin!” He declared, finally pulling the trigger. The shot cracked, and Master Joker moved instantly.

Max drew a breath, tucked the flag into his belt, and swept the arena. He had memorized the layout from the map Marcus had shown him. Despite the limited time, he was able to come up with a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan regardless.

As Krist got close, Max hid behind a barrel, a strategy that he decided was best for him. He wasn’t a weapons guy. Heirs of his caliber were trained in basic combat in case they’re kidnapped. His best chance of winning wasn’t physical strength, but outsmarting Krist.

“Hyusen just threw a smoke bomb near his base!” Viktor announced.

Fog swallowed the middle of the floor, blocking both Max’s and Krist’s view.

Max used the tactic for his own benefit. While the smoke spread toward his area, he pulled the first device he got from BND’s stash. It was a timed, colored smoke bomb. He set it for eight minutes and placed it a few meters from his base, hiding it behind a barrel.

“Ten minutes. That’s all I need,” he murmured, confident.

Marcus had explained BND’s customized smoke bombs before Max decided to pick them up. They inflated with a pressurized hiss like a real explosive and then released smoke. Because of the pressure pulse, Max ringed the device with spikes, so when it “popped,” the spikes would launch in several directions.

“Wow! I can’t believe my eyes! The two opponents are hiding like cowards!” Viktor’s voice echoed in the stadium.

As expected, Master Joker waited for Max’s next move. Max sprinted to another barrel, placed a second bomb, and set it for nine minutes and thirty seconds.

As Max was about to reach his third position, the smoke from Krist’s first attack thinned. It was still a bit dense, but it was enough for Krist to see Max’s figure. Krist raised his gun and fired with no hesitation.

Max immediately slid behind a barrel as heat burned his arm. He held his arm and saw blood. The bullet hadn’t gone through, but it had torn his skin.

“Shit… “ He tied off the wound with his necktie.

Another shot cracked, and Max couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. He almost forgot how loud a gunshot could be.

There was pounding in his ear, but there was no time to cower. After Krist’s third shot, Max checked his watch and pulled out another device. This time, it was a bomb that burst into flower petals.

Max threw the bomb in Krist’s direction and dashed forward.

Krist ignored the petals, sprinted too, and fired again. Max slid to a new cover, the lingering smoke saving him.

“The clown starts firing carelessly!” Viktor shouted.

Max held still, listening.

“What is this, little toy?! All you do is run and hide!” Krist taunted while searching for any sign of Max.

Max filtered the noise. He hadn’t seen the exact model Krist was using, but from the report, he narrowed it to a revolver. He’d heard six shots since the battle started. He hadn’t heard anything since. Krist likely wasn’t dumb enough to empty the cylinder, so Max guessed one round remained. 

His gun had a seven-bullet capacity.

No doubt about it. Krist was using a Nagant M1895.

Max smiled at the realization. He wasn’t a good shot, but after touring a gun factory with his father once, he knew guns. Who would have thought it would eventually come in handy?

“Come out and play, little toy!” Krist called. No more shots. He was saving that last round.

Max steadied his nerves, then tossed a three-second smoke bomb toward Krist. 

The bomb dropped in front of Krist, but it didn’t blow. Krist was stunned for a second…

…and then it popped, smoke billowing at Krist’s feet.

Max sprinted for a barrel just meters from the Jokers’ base.

Another crack. The last bullet grazed his leg. Max stumbled, fell, and crawled to cover. 

The bullet stung, and Max could only bite his lip to suppress a scream. Max didn’t mentally prepare himself enough for the pain he’d get from the shot, but at least Krist’s gun was finally empty.

“Looks like both opponents are out of weapons!” Viktor announced. “Wait…what’s this? The Jester is running toward BND’s base!”

Max cursed. It took him a while to realize, but Krist hadn’t been firing carelessly at all. Each bullet was deliberate. Like a sheep, he was herding Max, moving him to the direction he wanted so he could switch sides and cut across into BND’s territory.

The only thing that was going to decide their fate now was speed. Krist knew that that was the outcome, too, which was why he shot Max’s leg. He knew Max wouldn’t be able to run as fast as he could.

“Max! Move!” Marcus’s voice cut through the growing panic.

Max forced himself up. He removed the necktie around his bleeding arm and wrapped it around his injured leg instead. He and Krist were each only a few meters from their goals. He forced himself into a hobbling run.

“The white uniform is also running for the Jokers’ base! Well, barely running,” Viktor said with an excited grin. “But Master Joker is definitely closer to victory.”

Max’s heart hammered. The Jokers’ base glowed ahead. He needed more time.

The circle at BND’s base flashed orange. Krist had successfully reached their territory.

Sweat streamed down his forehead as Max glanced at his watch. “Three seconds.”

“The Jester might just win this!” Viktor yelled.

Max’s brain went blank. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. Every part of him ached, but he ran anyway, blood streaking his sleeve and pant leg with every step.

But just when he thought that all hope was lost, the first smoke bomb near his base detonated. As Max had planned it, spikes whistled through the air, catching the baron off guard.

“Whoa! What was that?!” Viktor yelped. “Spikes launched after the pop! Master Joker paused. He took three in the arm!”

Max almost laughed. He’d timed it. He actually timed it perfectly.

“White uniform is taking the lead! But the jester isn’t giving up. He’s running again! They’re neck and neck!”

“Come on,” Max breathed. He checked his watch. “Ten seconds. The next bomb goes in ten…”

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

“Master Joker is the wi—”

And just before Viktor could finish, the second bomb fired. Every head snapped up.

There was silence and anticipation. And then…

“The clown stops and covers! He fucking stopped!”

Krist had braced for spikes again. But instead, blue smoke poured out.

Amidst the confusion, Max hurled himself across the Jokers’ base, and the circle turned bright red.

In an instant, sirens blared, and everyone in the stadium cheered.

Max collapsed to the ground, letting go of the flag he had placed on the barons’ base. The winner was officially announced, but all Max could hear was his heavy breathing and his heart pounding against his ear.

He released a breath and looked up. And like Joker’s previous battle, Max watched as the barons’ banner slowly fell.

…

“The nurses will be here soon,” Marcus said, bracing Max to his feet. The crowd had thinned to BND and the Jokers. Max had represented BND. Their win was his win, and theirs.

While they waited, Max saw the Jokers kissing their banner, as they had against Busters. He slipped from Marcus’s support and limped toward them. The brotherhood parted to let him face their leader.

For a moment, it felt different.

There was no hostility or ill intent.

For the first time, Max felt like he was facing them as an opponent.

“What? You gonna make fun of me?” Krist asked when Max stopped in front of him.

Max held out his hand. “Good game. You played well, Krist Hyusen. I hope next time we play fair again.”

“I can’t believe I got beaten by a white uniform,” Krist muttered, but he took the hand and shook it. “You played well, too. You won fair and square. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Krist drew breath to speak, but Max added, “For the congratulations…and for deliberately trying not to shoot me directly.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you battle. You don’t get a gun permit if you’re a sloppy shot. A direct hit would have won it for you, but you didn’t take it. I’d be mad, but you still went all out. Thank you for that, and for battling a mere white uniform like me.”

Krist looked away. Max chuckled and turned to leave.

“Viktor told you, didn’t he?” Krist said. “He told you the plan.”

Max paused and faced him again. “I don’t know your past, but I do know you’re angry, and Viktor’s a huge part of it. But forcing that anger on people who can’t fight back is never right.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t say I did.” Max’s voice stayed even. “But your plan…if you had gone through with it, my family would’ve acted. I don’t care if you wanted to take Viktor down or get this entire school’s reputation ruined, but I’d make sure you won’t feel like you’ve won if you ever decided to lay a hand on me.”

Krist gave a humorless laugh, then hesitated. He didn’t know if he should say anything, but he decided that this was the only time he could. 

“It wasn’t my plan,” Krist revealed. “My Jacks thought you needed a scare, so I agreed. Those pictures, and the plan after it…I didn’t know they would go that far. But you’re right with one thing. I did intend to target Viktor. I knew getting to you was the best way to get to him, but I was wrong. I led my Jacks to a path of hate, and when they began walking that same path without me, I just watched.”

“At this point, drop the ‘my’ before Jacks ,” Max said quietly. “You know they don’t care about you. They’re the reason your brotherhood is hated. Remember your first battle with Busters? The moment you lost, they filed out in embarrassment. They didn’t even wait for you.”

Krist lowered his gaze. He knew it.

“You don’t need hundreds,” Max said. “You only need a handful of loyal ones and…” He looked past Krist at the Jokers behind him. “And your brothers…who take pride in what you do.”

Krist glanced back at them and flushed. Max smiled, small but sincere.

“Oh, and that gun,” Max added, nodding to the pistol tucked at Krist’s waist. “It’s old. And it looks personal.”

Krist pulled it free, frowning. “Here to judge my gun, too?”

“No. I just didn’t know you were close to the original owner. That explains a lot.”

Krist’s eyes widened. “H-how did you—”

Max didn’t answer. He started walking away, then looked over his shoulder. “Don’t forget our bet, Master Joker. I’m counting on it.”

Marcus jogged up as the nurses arrived. While they wheeled him out, Krist called out to him for one last time.

“Sinclaire!”

Max didn’t turn, but Krist continued anyway.  

“I let my Jacks target those students. It was my fault, and not theirs. I just wanted to let my anger out, but I never wanted to get anyone hurt. I never wanted things to go that far. It was never my intention. It got out of control. The Jacks were out of control.”

Max smirked as he settled into the wheelchair. And then he pointed upward.

“I shouldn’t be the one to hear that,” Max said. “But word of advice, Master Joker…you could start with an apology.”

The Jokers looked at each other and then at the ceiling. Camera lenses stared back. The rigs they’d installed for Max’s humiliation had captured something else entirely: the real Jokers.

There were no pretentious masks. No pranks and fabricated stories. Just a bunch of Black Uniforms who were proud to hold the title of Barons. And this time, it was their moment to prove to everyone why they deserved it.

|END|

32 | Princes’ Law

♟

EVERYONE WAS ON THEIR phones, rewatching yesterday’s battle between Max and Krist. Thanks to Max’s favor with his brother and Vice President Gavriil’s “exclusive battle” announcement, Max wasn’t punished. The reason was that the Elites hadn’t been physically present to stop it. Absurd, yes, but it was a loophole he had found in the rulebook.

“You were awesome, Max! We watched it live in our classroom. No one thought you’d win. A lot of them bet against you and lost a ton of money,” Felix said, walking with Max and Ari back to their classroom after the two helped Ari carry a stack of books to the faculty room.

As they moved through the hall, someone walked past and bumped into Max’s injured arm, making him wince.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Ari snapped. To their surprise, the student was a Jack. They braced for trash talk, but the Jack quickly apologized and walked off with his friends.

“Okay, that surprised me,” Felix said, watching him go.

“Haven’t you noticed? Ever since the battle with Master Joker, the Jacks have been ignoring Max. Well, the few who stayed,” Ari said as they continued down the busy hallway.

The battle had been broadcast on the school’s official site. After the battle, Krist issued a public apology and announced that he was, as promised, dismissing hundreds of underlings, but said those who were willing to stay would be on probation. Their customs hadn’t changed, and Jokers still needed Jacks to run their pranks.

Even so, a handful stayed, including Max’s classmate and former bully, Ervin Walker. Most surrendered their brooches, deciding the Jokers were a joke after losing to a white uniform.

Everything was better than Max had expected.

Well, almost…

“Where the hell is my chair?” Max said the moment they stepped into Class II-A.

He hurried to his usual spot, only to find the chair gone. His bag was missing, too.

“Where’s my bag? My flash drive’s in there. I need it for the meeting later.”

Vice President Gavriil was out with their homeroom teacher, so no one spoke. Ari glared around, ready to interrogate someone, when a classmate muttered, “Isn’t it obvious? The Jokers did it. Don’t think beating them means they’ll leave you alone. Don’t act special.”

“These assholes. Stop lying and—”

The bell cut Ari off. The first period was starting. Max scanned the room for his bag, but nothing.

Their Biology professor, Mrs. Helena Pennington , entered. “Settle down,” she said. 

Everyone except Max, who had no seat, sat down. “Mr. Sinclaire? If you don’t have a chair, sit on the floor,” Mrs. Pennington instructed, and a few of his classmates snickered.

“I apologize, Mrs. Pennington, but may I step out to look for my chair and bag? I’ll take full responsibility if I miss anything, and I promise I’ll catch up,” Max said, respectful and steady.

“Very well.”

Max looked at his friends before bolting out of the room.

He could ask Payton for another CCTV permit, but doubted he’d get one so soon. So he searched building to building, until he spotted his briefcase dangling from the hand of a seven-foot-tall statue of the Roman god Janus (not his uncle Janus) in the fountain before the Keep.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max muttered, approaching the fountain.

He glanced around for help, but no one was around since classes were already ongoing. 

With a sigh, he slipped off his peaked cap, removed his coat and boots, and cuffed the hems of his trousers.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. Seriously…the things I do for this school,” he complained, stepping into the icy water that’s a foot deep, just below the knee. He waded to the statue and stood on his toes for the strap, which was tricky with his fresh arm and leg injury. 

“Need help?” a voice asked.

Max turned. 

To his surprise, Krist’s right-hand man, Brave, stood at the edge of the fountain, his arms crossed in amusement.

“Oh, great. It’s you,” Max said dryly.

“What’s with the long face? I saw you from the rooftop. Shouldn’t you be grateful I came down?” Brave argued, but Max ignored him and focused on his balance.

Brave watched Max struggle for a few more seconds before deciding to jump into the fountain. Without any warning, he grabbed Max by the waist and lifted him off the ground.

“Are you crazy?!” Max yelled, trying to get down.

“Stop being a baby and grab your bag already.” Brave insisted.

With his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Max grabbed his bag with ease. After securing the item, Brave carried him out, both of their shins dripping as soon as they got out.

Max immediately checked the contents of his bag. His notebook was still intact, the flash drive was also safely tucked inside, and nothing else was stolen. Max sighed in relief and turned to Brave, who was sitting on the ledge and removing water from his boots.

“Th-thank you.” 

Still busy drying his uniform, Brave said, “After his defeat, our leader rounded up the remaining Jacks and told them that if they pull anything outside the Jack-in-the-Box custom, they’re out. MJ has never been this serious, so at least give us the benefit of the doubt.”

“I know,” Max admitted with a sigh. “I’m pissed that my classmates still did this after everything I’ve done.”

“‘Everything you’ve done?’ Oh, believe me, Sinclaire, you haven’t earned five percent of the students’ respect yet. In this House, beating a baron isn’t impressive. Our brotherhood’s the punching bag. It’s child’s play,” Brave replied.

Max’s expression sharpened. “You’re right. Beating a baron hasn’t changed anything yet.”

Brave slid his boots back on and stood. “Why do I feel like I’m about to dislike what you say next?”

“I want a private talk with your leader.”

“And I’m out.”

He started walking, but Max grabbed his arm. “I need to talk to him. Nothing changes if I don’t,” he practically pleaded.

“What do you even need from him? Isn’t beating him enough?”

“Do you really think I just wanted to beat him?” Max fired back. “I didn’t accept his jack-in-the-box and get shot twice in a battle just to beat him. What I want are points. I need merit points. Why else would I have donated a hundred thousand dollars to you?”

Brave blinked, then laughed until he teared up. “Y-you caught me off guard.”

When he calmed, he wiped his eyes. “After all those words of wisdom during the battle, we’re down to points. Of course that’s what you wanted.”

“Hey, I wasn’t lying with everything else that I said. But I’m not going to pretend like this wasn’t my intention either. I’ve been clear about this. There’s no reason for me to hide that fact,” Max admitted, and Brave stared at him, amused and a little impressed. Others would have faked honor and heroism, but not Max.

He didn’t need to fake any of those things to prove himself.

“If that’s the case, who am I to refuse a selfish request? Selfishness is very Joker.”

“Thank you,” Max said as Brave turned to go.

“We’ll send for you when the master’s free, so don’t get excited,” Brave called. “And a tip. Stop moving so much. If you want those wounds to heal, don’t strain yourself.”

“I can’t. I still have to find my missing chair.”

“So that was yours, too, huh?” he muttered before looking over his shoulder. “Head to the stadium.”

“Stadium?” Max asked, but Brave was gone.

Max didn’t bother guessing. He put his boots back on, straightened his uniform, and headed for the stadium.

Unlike before, the stadium was empty. There weren’t any loud students cheering, or brotherhoods fighting. It was just the six massive Brotherhood banners hanging high. And in the center of the floor was, unsurprisingly, his chair.

“They’ve done it this time,” Max said, striding toward it with his bag hung on his shoulder.

The serf got to his chair and was about to lift it when suddenly…

“ Ahem .“

“What do you think you’re doing in our base?” a low voice asked.

Max turned, expecting white uniforms. But when he saw who was standing before him, he instantly froze. A student in black approached with quiet authority.

“K-King…”

Pavel Schäfer , the Humble King, closed the distance. Behind him stood his fellow Royal, Choi Myung-Jin , better known as Blade from PHD’s Hot Wingmen.

“The king asked you a question, serf. You should answer if I were you,” Blade said.

Max straightened, keeping his tone calm. He didn’t need a fresh Royal problem after the Great Hall incident. “I apologize for the intrusion. My classmates hid my chair here. I just came to retrieve it.”

The king studied him for several seconds. Max braced for a dismissal…or worse.

“Grab his seat,” Pavel said instead.

For some reason, Max didn’t understand what he meant, even though the instructions were very simple. But when Blade stepped forward and lifted his chair for him, Max finally realized what they were planning to do.

“W-wait. Where are you bringing that? I need that cha—”

“Help this white uniform bring his chair back,” the king suddenly said. “Inform his classmates that if they step into our base again without permission, there will be consequences.”

Max furrowed his brows. The term “base” was mentioned again.

Pavel glanced at Max for one more time before walking away. He wasn’t sure if he should thank him or stay silent, but Blade was already carrying his chair out, so Max had no choice but to follow.

“T-thank you,” Max said awkwardly. “Prince.”

“We, brotherhoods, follow rules more than anyone in this House. There is nothing to fear if you follow yours,” Blade said, his voice unexpectedly calm.

As they walked, he glanced at Max. “When we first met you, you reeked of ignorance and arrogance. Now, there is knowledge and respect. Know your place and act accordingly; trouble will not find you.”

Max had no reply, but it felt like praise. Maybe he did get something from beating the Jokers.

“You’re Class II-A, right?” Blade asked, and Max nodded.

They reached the Hall of Caelus and stopped in front of the classroom. Max knocked and entered first.

Mrs. Pennington was wrapping up since her period was about to end. She paused at the sight of Max’s expression. “I assume you were unsuccessful in retrieving your seat.”

Max opened his mouth to explain the unexpected situation he was in, but then someone stepped in behind him. The entire class, as well as Vice President Gavriil, instantly stood from their seats to bow to the prince. His presence alone made the room feel suffocating.

“Where does this belong?” Blade casually asked.

Max pointed to the space beside Ari at the back.

Ari flinched when Blade got close to set the chair down. After arranging it neatly, Max stepped forward and bowed again—not just because he had to, but out of genuine thanks. Being seen with a Royal didn’t hurt, either. 

Blade nodded his head to acknowledge the appreciation. Right after, the prince walked to the front of the class, his hands behind his back as he stared at the white uniforms one by one.

“Listen and obey,” Blade suddenly said.

Max blinked in confusion, but based on everyone else’s reaction, this was a big deal. The words “ listen and obey “ weren’t just a command. It was a chilling decree.

Mrs. Pennington gathered her things and slipped out, leaving fifteen minutes on the clock. Silence spread as Blade faced the class.

“Perhaps we showed too much compassion when you were a freshman,” he told them. “You don’t fear us enough. Is that correct?”

No one spoke.

“It is common knowledge that white uniforms are prohibited in brotherhood bases during regular school days,” Blade continued. “Some of you entered ours…and left something behind for the expense of another. If anyone admits it now, consequences will be reduced.”

No one said a word. No one could. Max didn’t fully grasp what was about to happen, but the terror on several faces kept him still. 

Blade waited a full minute. When he was done waiting, his eyes locked on the Vice President. “Is this how you discipline your students, white uniform?” the prince snapped.

Gavriil’s eyes widened. Max had only ever seen him composed, but now, for the first time, he looked genuinely shaken. He was just called a “ white uniform ,“ a term brotherhoods usually use as an insult. As a vice president, it definitely felt humiliating. He didn’t rank second in the entire house just to still be insulted.

“Forgive me, my prince,” Gavriil said, dropping to his knees. “I will find the culprit immediately.”

The entire class was stunned.

Blade was about to speak, but the bell rang for the second period. Blade checked his watch, then looked past Gavriil to the room. “Who is the class representative?”

Max and Felix traded a look, but Ari didn’t hesitate. He raised his hand. “Aristotle Faulkner, my prince.”

Blade nodded in approval at the quick response. “Before noon, the class representative and the vice president will give me a full list of those who entered our base. If not, Class II-A will no longer exist in J.S. High. This is the Prince’s Law. Defy it, and you will be stained in red.”

Blade glanced at the class for one last time before finally taking his leave.

As the door closed, several students turned on Max, fury rising until—

“Who?” Gavriil’s voice cut in.

Everyone looked down at the vice, who was still kneeling on the floor.

 “Who did it?” Gavriil asked for the second time, his fist clenched.

“V-vice president, we didn’t do it. It was the Jacks and—”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Gavriil snarled. The students nearest him stepped back.

He rose slowly, a menacing calm overtaking him. “If I hear another lie from another worthless pest, I will punish you before the prince does. So I ask again…who went to the Royals’ base?”

|END|

33 | A Joker’s Past

♟

BASES, ALSO KNOWN AS Brotherhood Bases, are areas within the campus chosen by a specific brotherhood. A brotherhood selects a spot in its House and submits it to the Brotherhood Association with a rationale for approval. These bases are inaccessible to white uniforms, except to a brotherhood’s underlings. The brotherhoods have full control over their bases, and most of the time, they can be found there if one wishes to meet them.

For instance, the stadium is a joint base for both the kings and the princes. If there’s an official battle or event, everyone could enter. On regular days, only the royals are allowed inside. Students who enter without permission face consequences.

“Thank God it’s Friday!” Ari exclaimed as they walked down the hall to their classroom.

“Yesterday was still too crazy. I can’t even enjoy Friday,” Felix said, walking beside Max and Ari after they had helped Ari carry a stack of books to the faculty office. “Who would’ve thought our class’s little prank would lead to that? I’ve never seen the vice president so angry.”

“Yeah, he didn’t need my help at all. Everyone involved admitted it after Blade left. Even Ervin helped rat some of them out, which is still a surprise.”

“I bet he got mad because they tried to pin it on the Jacks. Ervin didn’t leave the Jokers and kept running with them. Too bad his so-called friends ditched him for it. Shows they were only there for the title,” Max added, and everyone else couldn’t help but agree.

After Gavriil gave Blade the list of names, the three students involved in the prank were called immediately. Everyone expected consequences, but no one expected being kicked out of the class entirely. Sir Barron arrived and announced that they would transfer to Class C. Class II-A had only twenty students. Now it had seventeen.

“But the craziest part was the prince helping you,” Ari remembered, the image of Blade carrying his friend’s chair still vivid in his memory. “I bet our classmates thought you’d be the one in trouble, and it backfired.”

“He didn’t exactly help me. They only acted because someone broke the base rules. They would’ve done it for anyone.”

“I guess so.”

When they reached their room, a bunch of students blocked the door.

“Well, this feels familiar,” Ari joked, pushing through to make way. 

Max had a hunch, but he was still shocked when he saw a jack-in-a-box on his table, a sight he thought he’d never see again. Ervin Walker was also there, sitting on his chair with his arms crossed. It was obvious he’d been waiting.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max said in disbelief, stepping closer.

Several classmates gave him a serves-you-right look. But before Max could ask, Ervin tapped the box. “Open it.”

Protesting wouldn’t change anything, so Max turned the handle. The familiar melody wound down, and the jack popped with a black note, similar to the first one he got.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/013b79cf80066e04cf689305b6156f01ae5271d2/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4a44796a736b35486864725466513d3d2d313034303231353238352e313839633962336533383831363137623737343536333137373931372e706e67)               

Max blinked. Felix and Ari, reading over his shoulder, did the same.

“When did you ask to meet Master Joker?” Ari finally asked.

Max was about to answer when Ervin suddenly stood and said, “Follow me.”

Without waiting for Max’s reply, Ervin walked out of the room. Max looked at his friends, uncertain, but Ari gave him a reassuring nod.

“We’ll explain to Sir Barron,” Ari said, and Felix grabbed Max’s bag for him.

Max thanked them and followed Ervin out. 

Max caught up with the Jack and followed his pace. The walk was awkward, but the silence made it unbearable. The two of them had clashed too many times to pretend otherwise. 

“I’m surprised you kept your Jack title,” Max said to break the ice. “Honestly, when I first got the box, I expected you to shove me in a locker or throw snakes at me, but you never did. I wouldn’t call it—”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Max stared. Ervin didn’t slow.

“There are three types of heirs here, Sinclaire,” Ervin suddenly began to explain. “Business heirs, political heirs, and professional heirs. You kids from business families are always high and mighty. Political families keep up. Then there’s us, the sons of doctors, lawyers, engineers, and the like. We get looked down on even if we rank high.”

Max had always known J.S. High drew heirs from respectable families beyond business. Ari, for instance, came from a line of authors and Nobel Prize winners. As a Sinclaire, Max hadn’t felt the divide. Maybe that was privilege.

“There aren’t many of us, so it’s not a constant issue. Money isn’t always the problem, either. But in a school full of heirs like you, what are we?” Ervin said, finally meeting Max’s eyes.

“Why tell me this?”

“I’m not justifying anything. I want you to know why I did what I did. In this House, where the weak get devoured, you do what you have to do to survive.”

Max nodded once. But before he could say anything about it, they arrived at the base.

Ervin opened the door to the rooftop. Jokers lounged like normal students: one sleeping on a bench, four shooting hoops, and Krist Hyusen at the edge, staring at the magnificent view of their campus.

“So this was where they hid,” Max murmured.

“Masters, I’ve brought the target,” Ervin said with a bow.

Brave hopped up, jogged over, and patted Ervin’s shoulder. “Thanks for the delivery. You can go.”

Ervin nodded and left.

As soon as the door closed, Brave slung his arm around Max’s shoulder and told him, “You’re finally here. Welcome to our base, white uniform. Cool, isn’t it? We fought hard to acquire this, you know? A bunch of brotherhoods wanted this first, but we got lucky.”

Max pushed Brave’s arm away, only making the baron laugh at the cold response.

“Heard what happened with PHD yesterday. You’re really something, Sinclaire. Who would’ve thought they’d declare a Prince’s Law this early?” 

“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Max replied, and Brave just shrugged.

“Well, MJ’s waiting,” Brave said, nodding to Krist. 

The rest of the jesters playing basketball got quiet, hoping to eavesdrop. But when Brave shot them a look, they had no choice but to mind their own business.

Max thanked Brave and walked to the railing. Krist didn’t react, so Max stood beside him, taking in the same view.

“So did you call me here to talk, or to admire the campus?” Max asked without looking at him.

Krist chuckled and pointed toward the fountain with the statue of Janus. From here, Brave had seen Max in the water yesterday and carried him out.

Max braced for a joke, but Krist surprised him.

“J.S. High stands for Janus Sinclaire,” Krist said, “but the figure isn’t President Janus. It’s the Roman god, Janus, also known as the god of doorways, gates, and transitions. Two faces…past and future. The middle ground between the concrete and the abstract.”

He finally looked at Max and continued, “It’s like he’s telling us that beyond these gates, life is concrete, and all this is abstract. A concept. An illusion.”

Max furrowed his brows. “Why so philosophical? Did I come for a lecture?”

“Why did you enroll in J.S. High?” Krist asked.

Max expected the question. He glanced at the Jokers, pretending not to eavesdrop, then back at Krist. “I’ve been asked before, but now, I’m not even sure I have an answer. Maybe it’s recognition. Boredom. Pleasure. Maybe I’m like Janus. Maybe I want to settle something in my past while looking at the future.”

“Your past?”

Max sighed and unconsciously touched the Lemieux necklace that was no longer there. “I don’t remember a lot about my past, especially my mother. I don’t know why the only thing that makes me remember her more is because of—”

“Viktor,” Krist finished. Max said nothing, staring at the fountain.

“The past can be unpleasant,” Krist said. “I didn’t know your mother. But I knew your family and Viktor’s were killed. And no one is left to blame. It must be hard with Viktor here, and you’re not even allowed to reach him.”

Max chuckled. “Looks like we have something in common.”

Krist turned, curious, then smiled and let it go.

“Didn’t know you’d clock the gun,” he said after Max mentioned the supposed closeness he had with the original owner. “Yes, as you might have assumed, it was given to me. But not by Viktor.”

The reveal surprised Max, but he didn’t ask any further. Instead, he turned to face Krist properly and asked, “Why did you bully those students? Why bully them to that extent?”

Krist sighed. When the rest of the Jokers heard where their conversation was going, they finally decided to leave the rooftop entirely to give Max and their leader the privacy they needed.

“There isn’t one answer,” Krist said. “At first, it was for fun. ’ Let’s give boxes to anyone who talks shit about us ,’ I told my Jokers. We were the lowest in this House, the punchline. You wouldn’t believe how many boxes we handed out in a week.”

He laughed once, without humor.

“It was originally harmless pranks. To keep the custom, we realized we needed underlings.” His fingers brushed the brooch at his collar. “I told the Jacks the same thing I told my Jokers—and that’s when it all fell apart. A box meant hell for white uniforms because of what the Jacks did. It wasn’t harmless anymore. People got hurt. I couldn’t stop them because they were wearing white uniforms and technically weren’t breaking any rules. But the truth is, I just didn’t care enough to stop them at all. Everyone already thought we were jerks. Might as well live up to it.”

“Where did your father come in? Why target homosexual students?” Max asked next.

Krist almost laughed.

“So you knew that too, huh? Who told you? Marcus?”

“Khian.”

Krist shook his head, unsurprised.

“We do stupid things to resolve stupid hurts. I treated them like germs to scrub away. I gave out boxes to satisfy myself, but nothing changed. I was still angry.”

“They reminded you of your father. About what he did to your family,” Max assumed.

Krist shook his head, surprisingly denying it. “No. Cheating is cheating, whatever the gender. My mother couldn’t handle that he cheated with a man. To add fuel, my brother turned out to be gay, too.”

Max stayed quiet.

“During the separation, my father took my brother away to protect him. After all, Mom hurt him almost every day. And when they left, my father said he’d come back for me. He said he’d take me with them.” Krist’s jaw tightened. “He never did.”

He clenched his fist. “The family I knew was shattered, and I tried my best to pretend like it wasn’t. But my mother told me every day that gay people destroyed us, and I got so mad. Do you know why?”

Max shook his head.

Krist’s anger flashed. “I wasn’t mad at their orientation. I was mad because they reminded me of my father and brother. They said they’d come back. They didn’t. My mother tortured me daily. She was so afraid I’d become like them that she forced women to—”

“Enough,” Max said when he saw Krist’s hand start to tremble. “That’s enough.”

After everything, Max finally understood. Krist wasn’t angry at his father. He was angry at his mother. Seeing gay men reminded him of her, not him.

Silence settled, and the two watched the fountain. Max gave him time to breathe. He didn’t want to push him. After all, Max didn’t deserve to hear that story to begin with. He knew it wasn’t his place to know, but Krist gave it to him anyway.

“You miss them, don’t you?” Max asked after a while.

Krist inhaled, then, despite himself, nodded.

“You don’t have to mask your pain. You deserve to show it,” Max sincerely told him. “But you don’t deserve to hurt others. Those people aren’t them. Your father was wrong to cheat. Your mother was wrong to do what she did. But what you suffered doesn’t give you the license to become someone else’s suffering. Your mother made it seem like being gay was a mistake. You’re making those students feel the same.”

Krist looked at him, and to both of their surprise, Max reached up and patted his head, the way Marcus did to him when his big brother wanted to comfort him. Krist was startled, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re a baron and a master to your loyal Jokers and Jacks,” Max said, letting go of Krist. “During our battle, I asked you what you’ve done to deserve the title Baron. I hope that before you graduate, you can give me an answer.”

Krist smiled. “I might actually have an answer now.”

“And what’s that?”

Krist stood straight and looked directly into Max’s eyes. “As a baron, I assisted the future president of the Elites,” he said as the wind whistled.

Max stared, obviously surprised.

When Krist saw the serf’s reaction, he chuckled. “You really remind me of him.”

“Who? Viktor?” Max asked back, but Krist shook his head slightly.

“No…” he answered. “Our old president.”

Max frowned because he knew Krist wouldn’t elaborate despite his curiosity. But as he stared at Krist, who was finally smiling at the view in front of them, Max exhaled and felt something shift.

 “You know what? I don’t think I need the merit points anymore,” Max decided, immediately making Krist turn his head to him.

He wanted to ask why, but Max was already walking away. “This was a good talk, Master Joker. Let’s do it again,” Max said, lifting a hand to wave goodbye

“Wait, little toy!” Krist called.

Max paused and looked back. Krist pulled something from his pocket and tossed it. Max didn’t know what it was, but when he caught it, he opened his palm to check.

“This is—” Max stared in disbelief. The small item in his hand was a silver brooch. Not the bronze one that Jack’s have, but a crown brooch shaped like a jester’s hat.

Max’s gaze instantly dropped to Krist’s collar. Every brotherhood leader wore two brooches: the brotherhood’s emblem and a crown, linked by a chain. Krist’s crown was gone.

“Why give this to me?” Max asked, his heart pounding.

Krist shoved his hands back inside his pockets and answered, “Hold on to it.”

Max’s eyes widened.

“You think you can do that…Max?” Krist asked.

Max looked down at the brooch for another second, then closed his fist around it, determined. 

“I can.”

|END|

34 | First Protectors

♟

“I STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE Ervin apologized to you. If you hadn’t told us, I’d never have imagined it,” Ari said, taking a bite of his garlic bread.

“Looks like you really did help change the Jokers…and the Jacks,” Felix added, and Max could only smile as he ate breakfast with his friends.

The Great Hall was as chaotic as ever, but Max no longer found it bothersome. The brotherhoods, especially Cigarettes, played around on their balconies like kids.

The Jokers weren’t there, though. Ever since Viktor pushed Krist’s limits over the jack-in-the-box Max had received a few days earlier, the Jokers hadn’t eaten in the Great Hall. Some said they were ashamed to show their faces after losing to a white uniform, but Max suspected they were sticking to the rooftop to avoid drama.

“Anyway, do you guys have plans tomorrow? Want to hang out?” Felix asked.

“I’m free,” Ari said immediately.

“Sorry. I have a meeting at the company. New projects to check,” Max said regretfully. “For now, you two hang out instead. Maybe it’ll lessen your awkwardness.”

The two didn’t say anything, but they glared at each other like mortal enemies.

“No way I’m hanging out with Mr. Two-Face here,” Ari muttered.

Felix gave a too-bright laugh while he stomped on Ari’s foot under the table, making the gaffer wince.

While they talked like normal students, the doors of the Great Hall opened. Everyone assumed it was just a bunch of white uniforms who were late for lunch, but to their surprise, the group who entered was none other than the house’s rank 6, Jokers.

The Jokers entered, and a dozen students rose to bow. It was an unusual sight. There had once been hundreds of them, but now you could count the Jacks on your fingers.

“They actually showed. That’s a shocker,” Ari said casually, stuffing his mouth with strawberry mochi.

“Eat slower or you’ll choke,” Felix muttered, breaking his soft act. Max hardly heard them; his eyes were on the Jokers.

They walked through the center aisle as the other brotherhoods watched. Everyone expected them to head straight for the balconies. Instead, Krist stopped in front of Max’s table, and the conversation cut off across the hall.

“ Looks like Master Joker’s here to settle a score ,“ someone whispered.

Krist didn’t say anything as the baron stared at their table. Max decided to stand and face the leader, which made Ari curse because he was already preparing himself to stop Max if he ever decided to do anything. He should have anticipated it sooner.

The two looked at each other, their silence making Max’s friends have cold sweat. But after a while, Krist held out his hand, palm up, as if asking for something.

Max furrowed his brows before remembering what it was. So he reached into his pocket and set the item on Krist’s palm.

It was Krist’s crown brooch.

“Thanks,” Krist said.

The onlookers had no idea what was going on. They thought Krist was about to leave, but he suddenly grabbed Max by the collar instead.

Gasps rippled. Felix and Ari, who had no chance against the barons, still stood in their seats, ready to protect their friend. On a balcony, Marcus tensed to intervene, but his leader caught his sleeve, reminding him that this wasn’t their battle anymore.

The Hall held its breath. Even the Royals were watching.

“What are you—” Max began, but to everyone’s surprise, Krist pinned the crown brooch on Max’s collar.

The Hall exploded into whispers. Even the brotherhoods stared in disbelief.

“That’s his crown brooch, right? What is he doing? Why the hell is he giving it to a white uniform?” CJ, Cigarettes’ leader, said from the balustrade.

Krist stepped back. Then, for the first time on the grounds of the House of Kings, a brotherhood leader went to one knee and bowed to a white uniform. Krist bowed to Max, and the Jokers followed.

One by one, the underlings bowed, too. History unfolding.

Not a single brotherhood moved. Even Viktor did nothing. Instead, he smirked down at the unbelievable sight, then turned back to his lunch as if nothing had happened. “ Looks like he finally did something decent for once ,“ he murmured, sipping his soda.

While everyone bowed, Krist lifted his head and said, sincere and steady, “You defeated us fair and square, and you gave us purpose and worth more than anyone in this House. We, the barons, extend our gratitude and our assistance to you.”

A brotherhood had never done this before—not even in the lower Houses.

“My brotherhood brooch and crown are linked by a silver chain,” Krist explained. “Let your possession of my crown symbolize how we are connected. Use us as you see fit until you reach your ultimate goal.”

Max stood speechless. When it sank in, he let out a short laugh. “So you planned this from the start, huh? Well, who am I to decline?”

Ari and Felix’s eyes widened when Max held his chest and bowed lower than he had before. Since arriving at J.S. High, he never did it properly, even to Viktor. For the first time, he gave a full bow to Krist, showing Jokers a kind of respect they had never been given before.

“I am honored to serve you as well…my barons.”

The Jokers were stunned. Rome looked ready to cry. No one had ever shown them this much respect. To be bowed to by him and be called baron meant everything.

When the moment passed, Brave stepped up and squeezed Max’s shoulder. With a wide smile, he said, “We barons can grant a maximum of five hundred points to a white uniform. We know you don’t want them anymore, but it wouldn’t feel right not to offer. So, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, how many points do you want?”

The Hall buzzed for one last time. A brotherhood freely offering merit points to a white uniform was unheard of.

Max straightened and touched the crown now fixed to his collar. Amid the growing whispers, he grinned and held up his student card.

“Give me everything you’ve got.”

|END OF VOLUME I|

JOKERS

SYSTEM_BOOTING…

[ OK ] J.S. HIGH DATABASE

[ OK ] HOUSE OF KINGS ARCHIVE

[ OK ] BROTHERHOOD REGISTRY

ACCESSING_FILE…

INITIALIZING_SYSTEM…

LOADING LOADING. LOADING.. LOADING…

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FILE_FOUND

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/03a510bea924820d93a015f6e7119ac407fd9681/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f59566750526b49536837355745513d3d2d313034323236373736312e313839636639356333343533313732613332313238383636363933352e676966)               

BROTHERHOOD: Jokers 

RANK: #6 

TITLE: Barons 

LEADER: Krist Hyusen (Master Joker) 

Krist Hyusen, better known as Master Joker (MJ), is the leader of the mischievous brotherhood known as Jokers. Though he and his brotherhood are well-known today, Krist was once a white uniform who did not understand the brotherhood system and its purpose. He believed that brotherhoods only bound students because of their strict rules and customs. Because of this, he often claimed that brotherhoods were worthless and even referred to the entire system as a joke.

Other students began telling him that his mindset was flawed. In response, Krist decided to prove his point by creating a brotherhood that rejected the traditional structure. His goal was to demonstrate that brotherhoods only survived because of rules and hierarchy, and that without them, the system would inevitably collapse. Thus, he created Jokers—the brotherhood that refused to follow the norm.

Ironically, this very rejection of structure became the reason Jokers gained attention across campus. What began as an experiment soon turned into one of the most recognizable brotherhoods within the House of Kings.

Krist may deny it now, but he eventually began enjoying the time he spent with his brotherhood. Even after proving that his original belief was flawed, he never disbanded Jokers.

To this day, some brotherhoods still follow the carefree “we-don’t-care” ideology that Jokers popularized. But no one can deny that they were the group that started the trend.

[MEMBERS]

NAME: Brave Thassapon Supachai 

YEAR: 4th Year

TITLE:  Right-Hand Man/ Second in Command

Brave is one of Krist Hyusen’s closest friends and serves as the right-hand man of Jokers. He was originally close with both Krist Hyusen and Charles Justin Mills. However, when CJ formed his own brotherhood, Cigarettes, Brave ultimately chose to remain by Krist’s side and joined Jokers instead.

NAME:  Dhanin Jannu

YEAR: 3rd Year

Dhanin is widely known as a troublemaker who simply wanted to find something entertaining during his time at J.S. High. Becoming a member of Jokers was the closest thing he could find to the excitement he was looking for.

NAME: Rome Onruang

YEAR: 3rd Year

TITLE: Battle Grounds Designer

Rome is the youngest member of Jokers, currently only sixteen years old. A recognized child genius, he enrolled at J.S. High at the age of fourteen. During his freshman years, he lived as a serf until Krist Hyusen noticed his abilities and personally recruited him as one of Jokers’ Jacks, who later on became an honorary member.

NAME: Toni Ratanavadi

YEAR: 3rd Year

Toni was originally one of the underlings assigned to prank a rival brotherhood. After completing the task, he was personally recruited by Jokers to become a full member the following year.

NAME:  Vanich Cheon

YEAR: 3rd Year

Vanich, often referred to as Van, was recruited along with the rest of Jokers’ third-year members during their second year at J.S. High. None of them were affiliated with school clubs at the time, which matched one of Jokers’ recruitment criteria.

BASE: Rooftop

UNDERLINGS: Jacks

Jacks’ primary role is to set up and execute the pranks directed at Jokers’ chosen targets. Once someone receives a Jack-in-the-Box, Jacks are automatically granted permission to begin their pranks. They are also summoned for emergency meetings whenever the sound of the Jack-in-the-Box chime is broadcast throughout the campus.

Students who wish to become a Jack can personally visit Jokers’ rooftop base to apply. The initiation is simple in theory but often difficult in practice. Applicants are given the name of a target and must successfully prank that individual. The names assigned range from ordinary white uniforms to active members of other brotherhoods. Applicants who receive the names of brotherhood members frequently withdraw from the challenge. However, those who succeed often become potential future members of Jokers—just as Toni Ratanavadi once did.

CUSTOM: Jack-in-the-Box

Jokers select their targets by giving them a Jack-in-the-Box. Once the box is received, the target will be “pranked” for the entire day. The custom only officially ends once the final school bell rings.

The Jack-in-the-Box also serves as a signal to Jokers’ underlings, known as Jacks, informing them who their target will be for that day. White uniforms are also allowed to request that Jokers give the Jack-in-the-Box to a specific individual. However, the price required to make such a request is notoriously high, which is why many students refer to it as a fool’s reques t.

MAXIMUM MP GRANT: 500 points

MOTTO: None  

[SPECIAL NOTE]

Despite being the lowest-ranked brotherhood in the House of Kings, Jokers remains one of the most infamous groups in brotherhood history. Their customs, ideology, and reputation have influenced numerous brotherhoods across campus, leaving a lasting mark on the culture of J.S. High.

[END OF ACCESS]

[ARCHIVE NAVIGATION]

► FILE 06 — JOKERS

► FILE 05 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 04 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 03 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 02 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 01 — [DATA LOCKED]

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

Some Brotherhood Archives are restricted. Students may only access files of brotherhoods ranked below or equal to their clearance level. To unlock additional records, earn Merit Points, or gain authorization from the Brotherhood Association.

[NEXT AVAILABLE FILE]

INITIATING_ACCESS…

CONNECTING TO J.S. HIGH ARCHIVE

SEARCHING HOUSE OF KINGS DATABASE

FILE LOCATED

[ACCESSING FILE 03]

[■■□□□□□□□□□□□□□□] 12%

PAPERBACK VERSION

Did you enjoy Kings on the Horizon: Volume 1? Well, there’s now a paperback version! If you want to grab a copy or have the book on your shelves, go ahead and click the checkout button on

Amazon.com

Thank you, everyone, for your unvavering support!

Yours,

N

VOLUME II

“You should teach your white uniforms how to act according to their title because I’m not always nice. And when this kindness wears off, codes won’t be enough to protect them…”

35 | To Conquer Next

♜

MAX WAS STARING AT the ceiling with an unreadable expression on his face. It’d been thirty minutes since he had woken up, but he still hadn’t left his bed. And the reason behind the laziness was none other than…

Exhaustion.

After everything that happened to him, Max couldn’t believe that it had only been two weeks. He felt as if a month had passed since the House Assembly. In fact, this was the first time he actually wanted to relax and take a break. That was a big deal, considering how Max had been working almost all his life. He had never in a million years thought of taking a break until now.

“Master Leigh? Are you awake?” Étienne asked from outside Max’s room.

Max said nothing as his butler continued to knock on the door. When the knocks grew louder, Max finally sat up. He aggressively scratched his head before shouting, “How the hell am I going to answer you if I actually am asleep, you imbecile!”

Étienne did not comment on the offensive remark and entered the room without his master’s permission. “I noticed you turned your lamp off, so I had a hunch you’d be awake,” he said. Max rolled his eyes in annoyance and lay back down on the bed.

Étienne walked toward Max and looked down at him. The two stared at each other until Max looked away and covered his face with a pillow. Étienne sighed and went to a cabinet, taking out a first-aid kit. “Will it be all right if I ask why you still refuse to let me call the family doctor?” he asked as he approached the bed.

“I’m fine. How many times will I have to tell you that?” Max replied, his voice muffled under the pillow.

Étienne sighed again and sat on the edge of the bed. He gently took Max’s injured arm and slowly removed the bandage.

Max’s battle with Krist concluded three days earlier, and even though Krist had tried his best not to shoot Max, the wounds were not ordinary ones. They would have healed faster if Max had gone to the hospital.

“If you’re afraid the doctor will tell your father about this, I can request a different doctor for you,” Étienne continued, but Max gave no answer.

Étienne began cleaning the wound on Max’s arm. Thankfully, J.S. High had complete equipment; they had been able to patch his injuries before they worsened, but the school doctor had insisted the wound be cleaned every day until it fully healed, and there was no one else to do it except his butler.

“I hope this was worth it,” Étienne told his master.

Max removed the pillow covering his face and looked at Étienne, who was concentrating as he put antibiotics on the wound. “It was,” Max answered in a surprisingly calmer tone.

“You’re not wearing the Lemieux necklace anymore,” Étienne added without looking up.

Max unconsciously touched his chest and looked away. “That doesn’t concern you.”

“Are you sure?” Étienne asked. When Max looked back, he was surprised to find Étienne already looking straight at him.

“I’m sure.”

Étienne wanted to add something, but remained quiet as he finally put a clean bandage on the wound. Max slowly lifted himself to sit on the edge of the bed while Étienne knelt on the floor and began to clean the wound on his leg.

The room was quiet as Max watched his butler. When Étienne finished covering the leg, he broke the silence. “What am I to you, master?”

Max continued to stare for a few more seconds before answering. “My butler,” he said.

“That’s right. I’m your butler,” Étienne replied, then looked at Max. “I know where I stand and what my purpose is to you. But if you ever come home wounded again…” He paused, moved closer, and finished, “The people who dare touch you will need more than bandages.”

“How frightening,” Max whispered with a smirk. Étienne stood and put the first-aid kit back where he had found it.

“Breakfast is ready. Your brother is already waiting downstairs,” Étienne said and bowed. He was about to leave when Max called after him.

“Are you going to tell Father about this?” Max asked.

Étienne paused with his hand on the doorknob. “When have I ever disappointed you, Master Leigh?” he asked, then left without another word.

Max swallowed and touched his arm as soon as the door closed. He’d almost forgotten how terrifying Étienne could be when angry. 

When he was younger, Étienne was always calm and quiet. But after his mother died, Étienne began being more vocal and protective.

Étienne was eleven years older than Max, but he had taken care of him more than his own father. When Max’s mother died, Étienne had been the only one willing to help him look for evidence regarding his mother’s death. Everyone claimed it was a car accident, but Max never believed it. When he told Étienne of his suspicions, Étienne didn’t question him. As his loyal butler, Étienne helped him instead.

They’d stay up day and night, searching for answers. That’s the reason why Max stopped studying for a year. Even when he finally gave up, Étienne didn’t scold him. He had only patted his back and told him he’d done his best.

Étienne had been beside the young heir for as long as he could remember. One could say he’s the closest thing Max has to family, aside from Marcus, of course.

“I have to get ready,” Max said as he slowly rose, shrugged on his silk robe, and headed downstairs to join his brother for breakfast. When he reached the dining room, voices drifted across the space, and he stopped.

“The old man’s back? Why the hell didn’t Étienne tell me?” Max mumbled, then turned and began to walk back to his room.

“Maximilian,” a low voice called, and Max froze as if under a spell. He tried to ignore it, but the man cleared his throat, and Max walked to the dining room with an annoyed expression.

He spotted Marcus and an older man absorbed in a newspaper. Without looking up, the man said, “Let me pretend you weren’t going to walk away from me again before you could even greet me.”

The maids and butlers bowed as Max entered, but his eyes were fixed on the man at the center of the unnecessarily large dining table.

Chairman Denzel Sinclaire, dubbed the most successful businessman on Time’s list for three consecutive years, was the father of Max and Marcus. Denzel is very good at what he does—Max would not deny that. But as great a man as he was in public, he was an equally terrible father.

Denzel is in his fifties, but like their uncle Janus, he still possesses the charm that could convince anyone to agree to him, a perfect trait for negotiations. The only person he could not fool was Max. For some reason, Max was well aware of all the lies that came from that old man’s mouth.

“You’re not even going to say a word to your father, who has been gone for two weeks? Where are your manners?” Denzel said, finally folding his newspaper.

Max clenched his fist in anger but forced a smile. “How rude of me. Did you have a business trip to France again? Japan? Or somewhere far, like Alaska? I apologize if I haven’t noticed you were gone. You’re never really home in the first place.”

Max’s voice rose as he finished. He wanted his father to understand that he was not someone to scold for failing to greet him. Max took over the company every time Denzel was away. Because of that, Max couldn’t enjoy a normal teenage life. Even actual CEOs seemed to have more free time than Max. The least Denzel could do was thank him.

“Did you inherit such disrespectfulness from your mother? What kind of son answers his father this way?” Denzel asked, and the question finally broke Max’s forced smile.

“The kind who knows that his father’s business trips involve trips with women, not business,” Max shot back. “You waste your money on whores rather than doing something better with it, and it’s sickening.”

Marcus’s eyes widened in shock. He could not believe Max had said that aloud. Even Étienne, who had just arrived, showed his surprise.

“What did you just say?” Denzel’s anger flared.

Marcus stood immediately and bowed deeply. “I greatly apologize for him, Father. I will scold him for you so you don’t have to—”

“Of course. Who else is going to kiss his feet other than his loving son?” Max spat, unable to contain himself. He was so consumed by emotion that he didn’t even think about what he was saying. So when he saw Marcus’s hurt expression, regret washed over him.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire! Apologize to your brother this instant!” Denzel’s voice rose as he slammed his fist on the table.

Max ground his teeth and clenched his fists to restrain himself. “I can never win in this household,” he said instead, then left.

Étienne took a deep breath, bowed to Denzel, and prepared to follow Max. But then Denzel called after him before he could leave. “I know you’re a butler from the Lemieux family, but I hope you’re not corrupting his mind with those useless speculations.”

“Rest assured, Mr. Sinclaire, the only thing corrupting him is—” Étienne halted, composed himself, and finished more politely, “I’ll counsel him and remind him to keep his manners and etiquette in check. Please enjoy your breakfast.” He left without waiting for an answer. Like Max, all he wanted to do was walk away from a man everyone seemed to shower in praise.

…

“I rescheduled your meeting with Mr. Zhao. Since your father is back, I don’t think you need to sign the contracts for him anymore,” Étienne said as he followed behind Max down the hallway.

Max, now wearing a formal suit, glanced at the tablet Étienne held to preview his schedule for the day. Unlike other teenagers, Max did not get to enjoy his weekends. Weekends for him only meant more work. 

Growing up with business tycoons as parents wasn’t always a dream come true. When Max was only six, he was made to sit at business meetings. At ten, Max had been taught taxation. By thirteen, he was already an intern at the company. He didn’t have the luxury or time to be a normal kid.

“Max,” someone called, but Max didn’t stop.

Marcus, who had been waiting for him, chased after his brother and grabbed his arm. “So now you’re going to ignore me like this?” he asked.

Max faced him. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” he said all of a sudden, surprising Marcus.

Marcus released Max and looked at him seriously. “You shouldn’t say sorry. I should apologize for not siding with you instead. But you know what I am, Max. I’m Denzel Sinclaire’s illegitimate son. One wrong word and he can send me away, and I don’t want to be away from you.”

“I know. I just got irritated. I’ll be careful with my words next time,” Max said sincerely. Marcus smiled and patted Max’s head as he always did.

Marcus glanced at Étienne’s tablet, then back at his brother. “Well, it looks like you’re free for a couple of hours. Want to eat breakfast somewhere? Since we both weren’t able to eat properly earlier.”

Max wanted to decline, but nodded anyway. “Sure. I think I can put you in my schedule.”

With no time to spare, they drove to a local diner thirty minutes from the house. Max had expected a fancy restaurant, so he was surprised. The diner was old. The wallpaper had faded, the wooden floor squeaked, and jazz played from an old jukebox.  But despite its age, it felt comforting. It was perfect for Max’s mood after the clash with his father.

The three of them entered. Eight customers turned to look as the bell chimed. They had parked a luxury car outside, and Max and Étienne wore formal suits while Marcus was casual. They looked out of place.

“You eat here?” Max asked, awkward at the stares.

Marcus shrugged and sat by the window, gesturing to the seat across from him. “I’ve eaten here since middle school. It’s not much, but the food’s better than that fancy stuff you barely finish. Who gets full eating that anyway?”

Max took a seat, while Étienne stood with his hands behind his back, proper as ever. The owner eyed them from the counter. Marcus cleared his throat and said softly, “Why not sit beside Max? It’d be weird for you to just watch us while we eat.”

“I am not in a position to sit beside the master, let alone eat with him,” Étienne said stubbornly.

“Just sit down for heaven’s sake. It’s obvious we’re already making fools of ourselves,” Max replied.

Étienne nodded and sat beside Max. A waitress arrived with menus and glasses of water. Marcus ordered for everyone, and they waited.

“So, how are your injuries?” Marcus asked.

“They’re fine. Hopefully, by Monday, I can remove the bandages.”

“Well, it could have been worse.”

Max chuckled. Out of everything he’d been through, the two weeks at J.S. High had been the craziest: the brotherhoods, Omega Society, the Welcome Ball, and Jokers. He felt exhausted yet proud. Who would have thought he’d experienced all that simply by enrolling in a school he had hated as a child?

“You’ve done more than a white uniform who’s been at J.S. High three years. Your plan was crazy, but…I’m proud of you. For once, I saw the real Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, not the boy who always stood behind our father,” Marcus said.

“Well, I got shot twice, so that’s not something you should be proud of,” Max replied. “But thank you. And thank you for trying to convince your brotherhood.”

Marcus sat up and drank water. “You do know that wasn’t for free.”

“Of course it wasn’t. Ren Adachi told me the same. Looks like I’ve got a lot of debts to pay.”

“You’re an idiot for owing a prince, but I guess it was worth it, right?” Marcus asked.

Max nodded. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure Hee-joon won’t do anything drastic yet. I know him. He’d only use an opportunity like that when it’s really needed. So you don’t have to worry yet.” Marcus added with a playful grin that made Max roll his eyes.

The food arrived, and the three ate like a normal family, if you ignore the out-of-place luxury suits.

“By the way, what do I have to do with Jokers now? After what happened at the Great Hall, I wasn’t able to talk to Krist after getting his brooch. He said I could use them, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Marcus chewed his bacon. “To be honest, I don’t know. Nothing like this has happened before. I guess if someone tries to touch you, they’ll be there to help. Or if you have another crazy plan, ask for their assistance. You don’t have to feel guilty for using them. It’s not like you forced authority on the barons.”

“I guess so. But have you been classmates with Krist before? I mean, before any of you joined brotherhoods?”

“BND formed before Jokers, but yeah, I’d been classmates with him since he and Brave were first years. Why?”

Max set down his utensils and told Marcus what Krist had mentioned on the rooftop. “He mentioned someone he calls…the old president.”

Marcus, who was about to put his spoon to his mouth, dropped it and startled everyone. He fumbled for napkins to clean the spill, flustered by the mention of a president. Étienne and Max exchanged confused looks.

“Are you okay? Did I scare you?” Max asked as Marcus wiped the table.

“How could he tell you that? Is he—” Marcus mumbled, then stopped. After composing himself, he looked dead serious. “Never mention this to anyone, do you understand me? Don’t even think about it. Erase it from your mind.”

“You saying that makes me want to think about it even more,” Max joked, but when he saw how desperate Marcus looked, he nodded in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll avoid it as much as I can, but I want you to answer something else in exchange,” Max said.

“Fine, what is it?”

Max leaned closer and asked, “Boys Next Door…what do I have to do to conquer you guys next?”

|END|

36 | Lemieux Corp.

♜

MARCUS LOOKED AT MAX with a serious expression before laughing. He then grabbed a spoonful of mac ‘n’ cheese and took a large bite before saying, “You want to conquer BND?” he asked with his mouth full, making Max stare at him with disgust.

“Why? No rule states that I have to follow the order of the brotherhood ranks. And besides, you’re already a Duke. Can’t you just give me merit points?” Max asked.

Marcus immediately shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna happen. I need my leader’s permission to do that.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Then ask your leader.”

“That’s not gonna happen either.” Marcus took a sip of his coffee while Max watched him with a frown. After a moment, Marcus looked back up. “Hans doesn’t like you.”

“Master, I have urgent news,” Étienne interrupted, stepping in before Max could press Marcus further.

Étienne, holding his tablet, looked at Max. “Your father’s secretary just called. She said he wants you to attend the board meeting at ten.”

“What? Why all of a sudden?” Max glanced at his watch; it was almost 9:30. Étienne showed him the screen. Max’s eyes widened for a second, then he massaged his temple. “That old man is seriously a pain.”

Marcus nodded in understanding. He did not need Max to explain. Even though he was younger, Marcus understood the responsibilities Max carried with the company.

“I apologize for suddenly leaving. I’ll pay for the meal,” Max said, gesturing at the mostly untouched plates.

Marcus, still eating, gave him an okay sign. 

Max and Étienne rose and headed to the counter. Max didn’t even look at his bill as he took his wallet and pulled out his black premium card, a card only a handful of people in the country owned. The owner looked at him like he was crazy.

“We don’t accept cards.”

“Shoot, I don’t carry bills with me,” Max said, gesturing to Étienne, who automatically left to get something in the car.

“I’ll pay for everyone’s meal. And a little extra for the trouble.” Max said before taking his leave first. When Étienne got back, the owner was surprised to find Étienne placing a bundle of 50 notes on the counter.

“That’s a hundred pieces of 50 pounds. The master says to keep the change,” Étienne casually says, bowing his head to the owner and taking his leave as well.

As soon as the door closed, the owner stared at the bundle of notes in disbelief. They were still wrapped in plastic, which suggested that they came fresh from the bank. “Hey, Marcus, who was that?” she asked as she watched the luxury car drive away from the window.

Marcus chuckled and sipped his coffee, amused by the attention. “Just a friend,” he said with a smile.

“Well, you’d better bring that friend more often,” the woman joked, and the diner erupted into laughter.

…

The employees, perfectly aligned at the entrance, stood straight the moment Max stepped out of the car. Étienne closed the door for him, and they walked inside as staff bowed to the young heir, his authority catching everyone else’s attention.

“Good morning, Sir Maximilian!”

Welcome to Sinclaire Corporation, a French hotel and casino company based in London. Like J.S. High, rankings among adults here are far more ruthless. After all, there’s nothing more terrifying than facing grown men who behave like children. Everyone craves power, and they would do anything to get it.

 Sinclaire Corp. had once been the Lemieux Corporation, founded by the Lemieux family in 1692. In 1966, Ulysses Leigh Lemieux became chairman at thirty-two after his father’s death. Two years later, Benjamin Sinclaire became his vice president. Both men would become Max’s grandfathers in time.

In 1997, Ulysses retired and passed his shares to his only daughter, Luna Lemieux—Max’s mother—making her the largest shareholder with thirty percent. Benjamin also retired that year, and his son Denzel succeeded him as CEO.

Despite having the perfect names that could rule the business world, Luna and Denzel were like fire and water. The company began to decline under their rule. Rumors spread that Ulysses intended to reclaim Luna’s inheritance and shares. So, to secure her position, the clever Luna married Denzel and transferred thirty percent of her shares to him, making Denzel Sinclaire chairman by default.

Under Denzel’s independent authority, the company rose again. Unfortunately, in 2018, Luna died in a car accident. After that tragedy, Ulysses also passed away in 2020, and Lemieux Corp. was officially renamed Sinclaire Corporation.

With Max as the sole heir of the Lemieux line—and the Stepanov clan wiped out in 2015—the Sinclaire name became the dominant household in the business world.

As an inheritor of Sinclaire’s interests, Max would receive shares when Denzel steps down. But because Denzel had another son, Marcus Thompson, he split his shares, leaving Max with only fifteen percent. It was insufficient to make Max the largest shareholder and thus a long shot to become chairman.

Still, hope remained: the Lemieux family retained fourteen percent of the shares that Max would eventually inherit. Ulysses had no siblings; his only child had been Luna. His wife, Estelle Lilith D’Amboise , temporarily passed the shares to her younger brother, Alphonse D’Amboise , and the family’s holdings persisted through these maneuvers.

The corporation’s major shareholders were: 

Denzel Sinclaire — 30%

Dante Sinclaire — 21.5%

Alphonse D’Amboise — 14%

Catalina Delton — 13%

Janus Sinclaire — 11%

The remaining 10.5% percent were divided among minor shareholders.

Rumors persisted that Denzel had divided his shares to position his brother Dante as the next chairman, effectively sidelining the Lemieuxs. Whether true or not, this rumor had been the reason why Max had been watching the Sinclaires closely.

Though Max hated admitting it, none of this mess would exist but for his mother, Luna. The Lemieuxs had a tradition of single heirs to concentrate inheritance. Luna’s decision to transfer her shares had set the chain in motion: if she had not handed everything to Denzel, Max might have inherited directly.

“Good morning, Sir Maximilian,” someone greeted as Max and Étienne approached the elevator.

Max stopped and, for the first time that morning, a smirk appeared on his bored face. The woman waiting for the elevator smiled at him—an expression so fake it almost made him laugh.

“Ms. Edith Thompson ,” Max replied.

Edith was Denzel’s former secretary…and his former mistress, making her Marcus’s biological mother. The Sinclaire family had buried the scandal, but Luna had insisted Edith remain at the company to ensure she knew her place. Even after Luna’s death, the Sinclaires kept her near, fearing she might reveal the affair. Edith remained, effectively forced into the company’s orbit.

Max could have his father fire her, freeing Marcus’s only maternal connection. So he chose not to…for Marcus’s sake. Marcus was forbidden to acknowledge her as his mother publicly; keeping her employed was the only link he had.

“Sir, the board of directors is waiting in the meeting room,” Edith said without meeting his eyes.

“And my father?” Max asked, making her visibly uncomfortable. He normally mocked his father as “the old man,” but with Edith, he used the formal “father” to torment her.

“Where is he?” Max demanded, stepping closer. With his hands in his pockets, he stared at her. “Lift your head. You’re not a child. Look me in the eye and answer.”

Edith trembled.

To Max, she was the mistress who had chipped away at his mother’s sanity. Luna had been twelve years younger than Denzel. Everyone knew that their marriage had been for business. But Luna had loved Denzel within the limits left to her. Denzel, however, had been unfaithful. Edith had been the older woman who wanted him, and she had borne him a child, her last resort to mock the heiress.

Luna learned of the affair only after four years. Max was born the following year, almost as if Luna had been forced to ensure the inheritance stayed within a Lemieux. In 2010, Denzel brought eight-year-old Marcus to the household, devastating Luna and beginning Marcus’s miserable childhood.

“H-He told me he’s heading to the airport for a business meeting in Macau. That’s why he asked you to take his place for the time being,” Edith nervously answered.

The elevator doors opened, and everyone inside stepped out to greet Max. Étienne and Edith trailed behind. If she knew she’d encounter Max, Edith would have preferred the stairs.

As the elevator rose, Max watched Edith’s reflection in the steel door. “By the way, did you sleep well?” he asked casually.

“Y-yes… thank you, sir,” she managed.

“Well, I expect you did, especially when you slept in the most expensive room in our hotel. I’m glad my father still finds comfort in you before he leaves on business trips. As his son, I thank you for that.” Max’s words forced her to drop the folders she was carrying.

“S-sir Maximilian—”

“Don’t worry. I’m not angry. You were already sneaking around when my mother was alive, so what changes now that she’s gone? Why not marry him, too? Don’t you want me to be your stepson?” Max asked, turning his head to look at her.

Edith dropped to her knees, ashamed and frightened. Her pride had crumbled.

Max chuckled at the sight of her. “You must be regretting it now. You thought you’d live happily once you had a child with Denzel. You thought he’d lavish you with riches. But no, he’s cruel to his own family. What makes you think you’re different?” Max said, his words venomous.

 A tear slid from Edith’s eye to the floor. Max sighed, knelt, and helped her gather the scattered files. He handed them back to her with deliberate calm.

Edith looked at him through her eyes filled with tears. He wiped her cheek, then fixed her with an intimidating stare, leaning close to whisper in her ear, “ The only reason you’re still here is because I love your son. Step out of your boundaries again, and I won’t hesitate to throw that love away and make both of you suffer. Do you understand me, Ms. Thompson? “

“Y-yes, sir,” she whispered back.

The elevator doors opened, and the employees stepped aside as they saw what had unfolded inside.

Max stood and walked out. As he left, he looked over his shoulder and added, “Tell my father to inform us personally when he’s leaving. Because next time, crying will be the last thing he’ll have to worry about.”

|END|

37 | Ignorant Child

♜

MAX WALKED HIS

WAY towards the meeting room when Étienne suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him to somewhere no one could see them. “Was that necessary?” he asked Max with a serious tone, but Max ignored him, not even turning to face his butler.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” he bravely called out, finally making Max pull his hand away in anger.

“How dare you. Have you forgotten to show me respect like that woman who had the nerve to smile at me while knowing she was just in bed with my father a few hours ago?” Max snapped, and this time it was Étienne’s turn to remain silent.

“You might not know, but seeing a slut early in the morning isn’t pleasant,” Max continued.

Étienne sighed and rubbed his temple. “She is still your brother’s mother. That alone deserves at least a drop of respect from you.”

At Étienne’s words, Max fell silent. Then his hand shot out to Étienne’s cheek in blind rage. Max slapped him as if Étienne had said the most offensive thing in the world.

“No, don’t you dare go there,” Max said, his hand clenched in anger. “Birthing a child doesn’t automatically make her a mother. You know well enough that she attended my parents’ wedding, congratulated them, and still decided to fuck my father. She was so proud of sleeping with the CEO that she even boasted about it to other employees. And as if that wasn’t enough, she begged my father to take Marcus into our household, rubbing the affair right in front of my mother’s face. She’s the reason Mom hit rock bottom. My brother does not deserve a mother like that.”

“Leigh, that’s not true,” Étienne tried, but Max ignored him.

“How would you feel if you discovered your husband had a four-year-old son with another woman? She laughed behind your back, and you didn’t even know. How ignorant you must have been,” Max finished, his hands trembling as if he were about to break down.

Étienne said nothing. He knew silence was better than trying to comfort wounds that could not be bandaged. Unlike cuts or bruises, Étienne could not heal what Max had carried since childhood.

“You asked if it was necessary; my answer is no. But don’t be fooled by her, Étienne. She looks like a sheep, but she’s a wolf. If you’re not careful, she might eat you up, too. And just to remind you, I don’t want another kid in my house,” Max said, pushing Étienne away so he could walk off.

“That’s not going to happen, Master Leigh,” Étienne replied, holding his cheek.

“Really now? Then let’s wait and see.”

After the brief exchange, the two decided to let it go, and they arrived at the meeting room shortly after. Two employees awaited them outside, including Mr. Emmanuel Arnault , the company’s vice president, who works under the CEO.

It was odd to see the vice president waiting to greet a teenage boy, but it was not unusual. Emmanuel had a history with Max. He was once a regional manager a few years back, and was known to be one of Luna’s closest friends. Max could almost consider him family.

“Good morning, Vice President,” Max greeted with a slight bow.

Emmanuel smiled and bowed back. “I was informed you’ll be handling the board meeting today.”

“I was just informed as well. You must be happy your workload has lessened. Usually, when the chairman isn’t here, the vice-president should preside, not his son,” Max said, making Emmanuel chuckle.

“It just goes to show he trusts you more than he trusts me,” Emmanuel replied, and this time, it was Max’s turn to laugh.

Of course Denzel wouldn’t trust Emmanuel. He had been on the Lemieux’s side since the beginning. And if things split, Denzel would side with his own. That was the game.

“He’s greatly mistaken for trusting me instead,” Max said before stepping into the room.

The directors fell silent as Max entered. Fifteen members of the board, representing different shareholders, watched him approach the chairman’s seat. Many looked displeased. After all, most were pro-Sinclaire rather than pro-Lemieux.

Max wasn’t their biggest fan, but these were the people who elected the chairman and CEO—and who could just as easily remove them. Even founders could be ousted. That’s why Max’s mother had always reminded him: always stay on their good side.

Everyone watched as Max took his place while Étienne stood near the door.

“Please show your respect to Master Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, who has been given charge of this board meeting by Chairman Denzel Sinclaire,” an employee announced.

The directors rose. “Good morning, Sir Sinclaire,” they greeted, and Max allowed himself a small smile.

Power was intoxicating. Max understood Viktor a little better now. What Viktor tasted at J.S. High felt similar to this. Once you’ve sampled that control, you’d only want more. It was an addictive poison.

“Good morning, directors,” Max answered. “I’m here only to report to my father. If you have concerns, raise them now so I may address them to him.” 

The directors nodded and sat back down.

Max respected the system, both at school and at the company. He respected positions, and that set him apart from his mother, who never respected anyone and paid the price.

“All right. Let the board meeting begin.”

Max sat as folders were handed out. The company’s Chief Financial Officer (CFO) gave the financial results for the month. Once cleared, they proceeded to major projects and investments. Director Silva cleared his throat and reported first. 

“President Dante Sinclaire of Sinclaire Italy plans to open another hotel-casino in Milan.”

Max set his files down and stared. “What did you say?”

Even Emmanuel looked surprised. “But we just completed Sinclaire Rome last year,” he reminded the room.

“Chairman Denzel has not announced anything, but I’m sure he’ll approve it once the proposal has been finalized,” Director Silva confidently explained.

“Approve it because it’s a logical strategy? Or approve it because he’s his brother?” Director Fisher , a pro-Lemieux board member, sarcastically asked, and Max intervened before insults could be exchanged again, as they had been last time.

“Let us keep personal comments out of this meeting,” Max said, forcing the director to look away.

“We’re already working on opening in Las Vegas. Madam Catalina has been preparing this for four years. This will be our first venture in North America,” another director said.

“We should postpone America if Madam Delton is handling it. We all know how difficult that market has been for us. We shouldn’t be letting a woman take charge of it,” Director Silva said, his little comment making Max’s attention shift completely towards him.

“How dare you?” Director Fisher reacted immediately.

“Let’s be practical here. Why trust a woman whose Beijing hotel is the lowest-performing in our portfolio? If you want this to turn into a disaster, be my guest,” Silva shot back.

“Madam Delton has worked in this company for—”

“And her service is much appreciated. But when we’re talking about important projects like branching out in North America, it’s only common sense to let the more experienced officers do the job.”

“More experienced male officers, you mean?”

“Looks like we finally agree.”

Max massaged his temple at the growing tension.

“For everyone’s information, Madam Catalina Delton has been president of Sinclaire Casinos for fifteen years,” Max interjected, his voice rising just enough to cut through the room. “She opened our most successful casinos in Monte Carlo and Macau, besides the several other hotels she expanded in East Asia. On the other hand, Sir Dante Sinclaire runs Sinclaire Italy and has opened properties in Rome and Venice.”

He glanced around the table. “Which record sounds stronger?” he asked.

No one answered.

“This company has survived for three centuries,” Max continued. “In that time, we’ve had thirteen presidents. Seven of them were women.”

His gaze settled on Silva.

“That’s why, Director, I would advise you not to insult the people who built this company.”

Silva’s ears turned red in embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was to be lectured by a teenager in front of all the board members.

“ What does an ignorant child even know? “ he said under his breath, but it was loud enough for Max to hear.

Max remained calm as he inhaled and met the director’s eye. “Okay, I’ve had enough. If everyone here insists on behaving like children, then allow me to be the adult in the room.” Max said, his authority becoming more prominent. 

“You all look at me like I’m an ignorant child, so why not answer me this? Why has the Rome division exceeded its operating budget for three consecutive quarters? Why were negotiations with the Chinese investor not disclosed to the board? And why has the Macau expansion been delayed despite the capital already allocated?”

The questions left everyone stunned. The entire room became quiet at that unexpected interrogation.

“If you can’t answer me that then—”

“Sorry I’m late.”

Heads turned to the doorway. A man in a dashing black suit entered the room, and Max immediately rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Jean Paul D’Amboise strode in—the CEO of Sinclaire Corp. and Max’s second cousin. Charming, confident, and already one of the youngest officers at twenty-seven, Jean was the exception to the rule. 

Jean’s parents had died in a plane crash. Alphonse D’Amboise, his grandfather and Max’s granduncle, had raised him ever since. Among all of Max’s cousins, he was his closest.

“Please don’t belittle Mr. Leigh,” Jean said as he took his seat beside Max. “He’s been groomed for business since he was five. He’s smarter than half the room. Let’s stay professional, shall we?” Jean said, his secretary appearing behind him to hand him the documents.

“You’re late,” Max told him.

“I was briefing executives about strategies for foreign investors.”

“Then do you know about—”

“Of course I know about Dante’s plan in Milan,” Jean replied before Max could even finish.

“And you didn’t inform the chairman?” Max asked.

“The chairman is way too busy with international affairs to concern himself with such little matters,” Jean said. “I spoke to Sinclaire Europe’s representative. As we agreed upon, the Milan project won’t proceed until America is finished. And, despite others’ disapproval, Catalina will take charge, as she has always been.”

The directors exchanged surprised looks, but no one argued.

Max sighed in relief at the presence of someone who’s finally capable. “Since that’s settled, shall we move on?” he asked. 

The board nodded, still a bit rattled by Jean’s arrival and the interrogation that had happened earlier.

“Alright. If there are no other violent reactions, let’s continue.”

…

“You shouldn’t talk back to the directors. That’s my job. You, on the other hand, must look pretty and kiss their asses until you secure a clear path to the chairman’s seat,” Jean said, turning his head to Max.

After the board meeting, the two decided to head to the building’s roof deck for a smoke break. The directors never really agreed on anything, so the two had to work twice as hard just to get them to meet in a neutral ground.

“If I get the most stocks, they won’t have a choice,” Max said, staring at the city lights.

Jean chuckled, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up. “Do they now?” he asked with a knowing grin, then inhaled and exhaled the smoke slowly. “Your mother had the most stocks, too, but they would have removed her regardless. Don’t pin your hopes on that. We can’t even be sure your father will leave you an inheritance, given you’re only second because of Ms. Edith.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man pulled such a stunt. If it comes to that, I’d sue him. Legally, my mother left me her properties. Since they’re married, my father holds them until I turn eighteen. That’s the beauty of a prenup.”

“You’d be the first heir to sue a parent. Most heirs just have them killed. That would be entertaining,” Jean said, laughing.

Max didn’t reply. Instead, he snatched the cigarette from Jean and took a draw. Jean had to get another one for himself.

“You’re already seventeen. You need a plan. Claim your inheritance from both sides and pick who you’ll be loyal to. Lemieux or Sinclaire? Hard to choose when you hate both,” Jean added, leaning on the balustrade.

Max exhaled smoke and stared at the skyline. “Do you think they did it? Do you think the Lemieuxs killed my mother?”

Jean looked up at the night sky. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Aunty Luna wasn’t kind to her own family after all. But at the same time, the Lemieux upheld their own principles. Killing Luna would not benefit them in any way. I mean, look what happened now. After she died, the Lemieux family no longer existed. She was the only pure-blooded Lemieux. I mean, before you, of course.”

“I know,” Max replied as smoke escaped his mouth. “But besides my mother, I don’t know much about the Lemiuex family since I grew up here in London with the Sinclaires. I visited our grandparents before, but not as often as I wanted to. Mother didn’t particularly like the idea of me having a close relationship with them.”

“I mean, Aunty Luna marrying Denzel isn’t the only reason why we’re here. The main reason why we migrated to England is because your great-grandmother was English. We wouldn’t have built the second HQ here if not for her,” Jean reminded the young heir. “But we were both born in France, so our roots are a bit scattered. Either way, where I’m from usually depends on the situation.”

“Let’s not get political,” Max sarcastically said, causing Jean to laugh.

After getting it together, Jean wiped the tear in his eyes and drew out a heavy breath.

“All jokes aside, this is a Lemieux company—always has been. The Sinclaires have wanted a piece for ages; now they want the whole cake. We’re the last of the old family, and you’re the last of the bloodline. Remember that. Choose your opponent wisely,” Jean finished and flicked the cigarette away.

“Are you lecturing me, Mr. CEO?” Max asked, making Jean laugh again as he opened another pack of cigarettes.

“For someone with your attitude, you’ll need all the lectures you can get.” Jean lit another cigarette. When Max saw the brand of the pack he was putting back in his pocket, he chuckled.

“No wonder it tasted awful,” Max said, finishing the one he was holding and tossing it in the bin.

“What do you mean?” Jean asked, looking back at the pack with furrowed brows.

“I know the son of the owner of that brand,” Max replied, turning around to take his leave. “He’s a total jerk, and apparently, an old friend of a Joker I just conquered.”

|END|

38 | New Recruit

♜

MAX WENT OUT OF the car with a blank expression. As soon as he did, the students who spotted him instantly started staring. Well, technically not at him, but at the crown brooch on his collar, a status no other white uniform in all the houses possessed.

Everyone had witnessed the historical scene at the Great Hall, and many still could not process that he had conquered Jokers within a week. The brooch was the only evidence they had of that moment.

“Have an amazing day, Master,” Étienne said as he closed the door for Max.

Max nodded and began walking toward the Keep, but just when everything seemed to be going well, a student bumped into him so hard he tripped.

The students around him laughed, and Max sighed to release his frustration. Of course, he was still a serf even though he had conquered a brotherhood. The five hundred merit points he had received were not enough to make him a dweller, which meant Max remained at the bottom of the food chain.

He grabbed his bag and pushed himself up when a voice asked, “Are you all right, white uniform?”

The students who had been laughing stopped and scattered when they saw who it was. Max rolled his eyes in irritation at the familiar voice. He dusted the dirt from his knees, turned, and bowed his head in what passed for respect.

“Kings,” he greeted, and Viktor grinned.

Viktor stood in front of Max, two members of Busters behind him.

Max expected an insult from Viktor, but instead Viktor said, “Walk with us.” Before Max could even reply, the three kings started toward the Keep, and Max sighed and followed like the obedient white uniform he was.

They entered the Keep. Everyone in the hallway either stopped to bow at Busters or ran away. Max trailed them without knowing their destination; it would have been suicide to bolt now.

“What did I do to deserve the kings’ attention?” Max asked when he realized no one had said anything since they made him follow them.

“Actually, we wanted to congratulate you on getting your first pet. I thought it would take longer, but I guess a week was enough for someone like you,” Viktor said while slightly looking over his shoulder.

Max didn’t say anything yet. He knew not to speak out of turn, especially after what the king did to him before at the Great Hall.

“You amaze us, white uniform, but remember our castle is molded to our liking. If you become a hindrance to our system, we will not hesitate to step in,” Viktor added, stopping the group.

Max finally realized why Viktor had pulled him aside: it was not congratulations but a thinly veiled threat.

“Anyway, here we are,” Viktor said, turning to face Max with a sinister smile.

Max’s eyes widened when he saw they were at the Hall of Caelus, where the sophomore classes lodged. The kings had walked him to his classroom without him realizing.

Viktor was about to add more when one of the kings leaned in and whispered something. The smirk left Viktor’s face, and a serious line took its place. “It seems I have to attend to more important matters. We’ll talk again, white uniform,” Viktor said, and the two Busters shoved Max aside like he was blocking their path.

As they walked away, Max touched the silver crown brooch on his collar and called after them, “Just so you know, Stepanov, they are not my pets. As a king, you should know your barons’ worth.”

Viktor chuckled but said nothing until the three kings disappeared down the corridor. Shortly after, the bell rang. Felix and Ari, already inside their classroom, ran out to where Max stood. The entire class saw Max with Viktor from inside, and everyone instantly thought of the worst-case scenario.

“What was that about? What did the kings want?” Ari asked, obviously worried. 

Max could only shake his head. “It was nothing. Let’s just head inside.”

…

“I’m giving you ten more minutes. If you are not at the courtyard by then, you’ll be running twenty laps. Now move faster, you lazy asses!” Mr. Ryan Baxter , their P.E. instructor, shouted as he left the locker room.

Max zipped his white track top and closed his locker.

“Finally, some comfortable clothes,” Ari said, settling onto the bench in their tracksuits—their PE uniform that looked suspiciously like it had been sponsored by a famous sports brand.

“J.S. High has one of the most extravagant uniforms, which is why wearing it in public instantly makes you a celebrity. I almost didn’t enroll for that reason. If it weren’t for my mother forcing me, I would have chosen a different school. This place is focused on business, after all, and I’m obviously not the business type,” Ari said.

“Why did you enroll then?” Felix asked.

“Like all of us, I received an invitation. I spoke to President Janus before I officially accepted it. He said J.S. High honed all types of skills, and the best literature professors are also here, waiting for me. I couldn’t say no after that. He’s pretty good at convincing people,” Ari answered.

“Well, he is a Sinclaire after all,” Max commented. Felix and Ari couldn’t agree more.

“Anyway, I’m ready. Let’s go,” Felix said, zipping his tracksuit to the neck. But as they headed for the exit, the sound of someone slamming a locker made them stop.

“Move aside, you useless jack!” a student sneered, shoving Ervin Walker into a locker. The unexpected scene left the trio surprised.

“ Look how the tables have turned. He deserved it after what he did to you ,“ Ari whispered as Ervin groaned at the impact. His so-called friends laughed at him and left the room, leaving Ervin angry and embarrassed.

Ever since Jokers had been defeated by Max in a one-on-one battle, the Jacks who stayed had become targets of ridicule. It was hard to watch the shift unfold. After all, Jacks were once feared. Now they’re seen as a joke.

“Let’s go. We don’t want to get caught up in his drama,” Ari said, but Max ignored the class rep. and walked straight to Ervin, making Ari curse.

Max looked down at Ervin and reached out his hand. Ervin ignored it and pushed himself up. “I don’t need your pity, Sinclaire,” he said, turning to leave. But just before he could reach the door, Max called out to him.

“Hey. Want to join us?” the serf asked.

“What?” Felix and Ari asked together.

Ervin stopped and looked back, confused.

“Join you?” Ervin repeated.

Max’s offer sounded like a joke, but when Ervin looked at Max’s eyes, he only saw sincerity. After everything was settled with Jokers, Max learned that Ervin took no part in the pranks that Max suffered when he received the jack-in-the-box. That didn’t make Ervin a saint, but that was enough for Max to give the jack a chance.

Besides, if he can make friends with the Jokers, then he can definitely do the same with the Jacks.

“If you’re willing to hang out with two serfs and a gaffer with a bad temper, you’re welcome,” Max added. Ari and Felix stared in disbelief.

“Here we go again,” Ari muttered, rubbing his temple.

Ervin hesitated, then laughed. “Have you forgotten what I did to you before, Sinclaire?”

“Oh, I do. But staying by my side will be my greatest revenge. I’ll use you as payment until there’s nothing left to take. What do you say?” Max replied.

Ervin stared at Max and waited for the heir to say sike, but he never did. Ervin wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but when he caught a glimpse of the crown brooch on Max’s collar, Ervin felt something in his chest. Without thinking about it, he slowly nodded to agree to Max’s offer.

Max smiled in victory while Ari palmed his face in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What are we, foster parents? You keep adopting weird kids, Max. At this rate, we’ll have enough members to form a brotherhood,” Ari complained, and Felix glared.

“Who are you calling weird? You’re the one who picked a fight with me on our first day,” Ervin snapped.

“You slammed a chair at me!” Ari fired back.

“It was an accident!”

Caught in the middle, Felix awkwardly tried to mediate. “W-well, shouldn’t we forget the past and get along since we’re like a group now?”

Ari and Ervin looked at Felix at the same time, making Felix flinch.

“What did you just say?” Ervin asked, unintentionally raising his voice. He didn’t intend to sound mad. He just wanted to ask him to say it again because he really didn’t hear him the first time.

Unfortunately, Ari misread Ervin’s tone and pushed him away from Felix. “Hey, you don’t have the right to talk to him that way.”

“What? I was just asking—”

Felix went between them. “Enough! Are you two going to argue with each other over the pettiest things? It’s so annoying!” he shouted, and both boys froze. Felix immediately regretted the outburst and covered his mouth. “I…I meant to say—”

“Wow, for some reason this is the first time I’ve heard this midget talk that much,” Ervin sneered, and Ari burst out laughing, completely forgetting that he was arguing with Ervin a second ago.

“He called him a midget!” Ari mocked, and Felix’s face turned red. Without thinking, Felix punched Ari in the crotch, and Ari fell to his knees, the pain making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You think that’s funny, you gaffer?!” Felix snapped, surprising Ervin at the sudden change of attitude.

“W-Why’d you fucking…p-punch…me? He’s the one who called you…a m-midget!” Ari defended, holding his aching crotch.

The three continued to argue with each other, and Max couldn’t help but smile at himself as he watched them from the side. The combination was peculiar, but for some reason, Max could tell that these three would no doubt be the people he’d be able to trust and treasure the most from now on.

Who would have thought making friends would be such fun?

“Alright, stop bickering. And Felix, your mask slipped for a second there,” Max said casually before walking to the exit, finally making the three stop.

Felix’s eyes widened when he realized what Max had just said. “You knew? You’ve always known?!” he blurted.

“Why’d you think I made friends with you in the first place?” Max replied as the three followed behind him.

“Then what was the point of acting cute and innocent in front of you?! How embarrassing!” Felix exclaimed, making Max laugh.

“No worries. I liked your fake cute side too…if it was ever fake,” Max teased, patting Felix’s head as he’d normally do. And for the first time, Felix genuinely blushed and looked flustered, a reaction he did whenever he wanted to put on the innocent act.

Max and his newfound friends finally headed to the courtyard after the supposed recruitment. When they got there, they saw that all their classmates were already lined up in clean rows. The instructor, Mr. Baxter, was already waiting for them. 

“Please tell me we got here before ten minutes.” Max hoped.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin exchanged glances. Before anyone could answer, their classmates snickered, and Mr. Baxter planted his hands on his hips and shouted, “Twenty laps! Now!”

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Ari yelled.

Mr. Baxter blew his whistle, and the four began running. The courtyard was designed to host different sports. It could be turned into a soccer field or even a track field—It was that big. Running 20 laps was no doubt brutal.

“This is all your fault! If you didn’t adopt this fucker we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Ari complained as they ran.

“Why are you always blaming me?!” Ervin retorted.

Max sighed and pushed ahead, running faster than the others while Felix lagged behind.

By his fifteenth lap, Max slowed down and glanced back at his friends. After arguing with Ari, Ervin was ahead of them and was already on his nineteenth lap. Ari surprisingly held himself back so he could run with Felix, who obviously couldn’t keep up with them. The two didn’t get along most of the time, but they seem to have grown closer, even if they deny it.

“Hey!” Someone suddenly called out.

Max looked up ahead and spotted the members of Jokers standing at the side of the courtyard. Max waved and jogged towards them. When he got closer, Krist tossed him a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” Max said, having a drink so he could take a quick break from all that running.

Ervin, the athlete that he was, finished his twentieth lap. A bit exhausted, he ran to the Jokers and bowed to them. “B-Barons,” he greeted while catching his breath. Max handed him the bottle to share, and Ervin took a sip without a second thought.

Brave looked from Ervin and Max in surprise. “Wait…don’t tell me you took him under your wing too?”

“It’s actually my first day on the job,” Ervin panted, handing the bottle back to Max and jogging away so he could report to Mr. Baxter.

“What are you guys doing here?” Max asked after chugging down the rest of the water.

Rome, Jokers’ youngest, draped an arm around Max. “We just wanted to see our tamer’s pretty face,” he said, making Max shove him off.

“Please don’t. It hasn’t even been a week since you strapped me to a toilet and humiliated me. You acting like this gives me goosebumps,” Max said, and the jesters laughed like the serf just cracked a joke. News flash: he wasn’t.

“Don’t worry. We just happened to pass by after our brotherhood meeting. A little fresh air won’t hurt,” Master Joker said as he approached Max.

“Brotherhood meeting? Could that be the important matter Viktor mentioned?” Max asked, and the barons exchanged looks.

The mere mention of Viktor’s name changed the aura around Krist. “I should have known Viktor would talk to you. He probably threatened you too.”

“You got that right,” Max agreed. “He said something about the castle being molded to their liking, and that I shouldn’t be a hindrance to the system. He probably didn’t like that a brotherhood bowed to a white uniform. Viktor might have seen that as challenging the hierarchy.”

“Seriously, that king loves starting fires but is too proud to put them out himself. But then again, it kinda feels nice to know that he’s out there threatening you because of us,” Toni said with a grin, and Brave smacked his head.

“Has any other brotherhood approached you yet?” Krist asked.

Max threw the empty bottle. “Why, you gonna beat them up for me?” he teased. 

Krist chuckled but shook his head. “No, of course not. It doesn’t work like that, little toy. I just thought BND would have talked to you by now.”

Max looked at Krist with a frown before looking at the rest of the members with the same confused expression. 

“W-wait…don’t tell me…” Brave covered his mouth in shock before laughing at himself. “You forgot about your deal with the Dukes, didn’t you?”

Max’s eyes widened as he remembered the favor he had asked Marcus for—the one that got him to battle Krist one-on-one. He almost forgot it involved BND.

“Please tell me it doesn’t require me making a fool of myself,” Max said, and the grin on the baron’s face told him otherwise.

|END|

39 | Mr. Brains & Brawn

♜

“MR. BRAINS AND BRAWN ?!” Ervin and Felix asked in unison as soon as Max revealed the conversation he had with Jokers earlier during PE.

The four of them walked toward the Great Hall after a tiring run. As they moved, students could not help but stare at the peculiar group. 

One was an aggressive gaffer who originally had no friends. The second one was an innocent genius with a secret persona. The newer one was an underling who had bullied others but became a target himself. And, of course, the white uniform that formed the gang was a serf who had conquered the barons. 

Max wanted to stand out, and he knew exactly how to do it now that he had “recruited” his new friends.

“I don’t even know what Mr. Brains and Brawn is about. I was a student council president at my old school, but all I did was hold the title and look cool. The other officers handled the events because they were too scared to bother me,” Max admitted, which made Ari and even Ervin laugh.

“What a reliable president you were. J.S. High is lucky,” Ari teased.

“Give Max some slack. I bet he didn’t have a choice,” Felix defended, which was true since the administration forced Max to be the president because his father donated millions before he even enrolled. He didn’t have the energy to argue and just accepted the offer.

Max smiled and patted Felix’s head, who instantly looked like a puppy wagging its tail at its master’s praise. All Ari and Ervin could do was stare at the serfs with sour looks on their faces.

The quartet arrived at the noisy Great Hall. Students ran and shouted, especially while the brotherhoods had not yet taken their places. Max and his friends walked down the aisle toward their usual seats when someone called out. He sighed. Being called from behind had become normal. 

The four turned and found Cigarettes walking their way towards them. Their arrival made everyone in the cafeteria run back to their tables in silence.

Their leader, Charles Justin “CJ” Mills, walked in the middle and stopped a meter from Max. Max stared for a while before bowing to them. “Counts, how may I assist you?” he asked, and CJ sneered, stepping closer.

“Krist is a fool for submitting to a white uniform like you,” he said.

Max did not react. Unlike Jokers, he saw nothing admirable in Cigarettes. Jokers at least had passion and loyalty. Cigarettes were simply assholes who selfishly enjoyed power. Saying anything to rile them would be the last thing Max needed.

“What a disgrace. A white uniform should know his place,” CJ threatened, staring at the crown brooch on Max’s collar. “I don’t know what you did to force the barons to side with you, but let me tell you…it will never happen again. So enjoy that little victory of yours while it lasts.” CJ leaned in and hissed. When he got too close, Ervin shoved him away instinctively, and the watching students gasped. 

Ari and Felix looked at their recruit with their mouths wide in shock. Even Max didn’t see it coming.

CJ stumbled but brushed it off with a laugh. Someone from Cigarettes was about to grab Ervin, but was stopped by their leader, whose eyes were now locked on the Jack. Without saying a word, he lifted his hand to strike, but Max shoved Ervin back just in time, and CJ punched the empty air.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” CJ roared.

“It is against the rules for a brotherhood to hurt a white uniform, let alone an underling, outside their custom. You made the concept of underlings, so you should know the rules regarding them,” Max said, standing up to him. CJ didn’t like the lecture and grabbed Max’s collar, almost lifting him off the ground.

Ervin was about to make another move, but this time, Ari and Felix grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don’t act smart with me, you little shit. You got lucky with Krist because he’s easy, but if I decide to destroy you, MJ won’t even look twice. He won’t challenge a brotherhood just for a white uniform, so get your head out of your ass,” CJ mocked.

“Are you sure about that?” a voice asked.

The Cigarettes turned and parted to reveal Jokers, who had made an unexpected entrance.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t look twice. But only because your hands would already be broken on the first,” Krist warned, staring at CJ’s hands on Max’s collar. “If you don’t let go of him in the next five seconds, you’re going to find out just how easy we are.”

CJ laughed at the Master Joker’s threat. “Oh my god, have you thrown away all your pride, MJ?”

“Let go of him,” Krist repeated, unbothered.

“You’ve seriously lost your mind.”

“Let go of him now!”

Trumpets blared before either man could escalate. CJ finally released Max and strode to the balcony with his Cigarettes, face twisted in a glare at Krist.

Max and his friends stepped aside as the princes entered. Everyone, even the members of Jokers, bowed their heads to them. PHD passed without a scene, followed by Busters, who went straight to their balcony, surprising Max since they decided not to start anything today. 

The arrival of the Royals forced everyone to get back to their own business. Thanks to that, Max and his friends were able to return to their seats in peace. Ervin didn’t want to sit beside Ari, so he took the other seat beside Max instead, while Felix sat on Max’s right.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever have a single day without getting dragged into brotherhood drama,” Ari said.

“Not gonna happen, Princess Ariel,” Dhanin suddenly replied. Max thought they would have joined Cigarettes at the balcony, but to their surprise, the jesters took the empty seats at Max’s table and sat down with them instead.

“What’s going on?” Ari asked in confusion, completely forgetting how the baron just addressed him as Princess Ariel.

While the four were trying to understand what the barons were doing, Krist walked up to Felix and stared at him until Felix was forced to stand and transfer to the chair beside Ari. With the seat now empty, Krist took it for himself, sitting beside Max while the young heir continued to stare at him with disbelief.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Max asked, looking at the jesters who were starting to get comfortable in their new seats.

“Waiting for lunch,” Krist casually answered. “Why? Would you rather sit with us on the balcony? I don’t mind.”

“You want us to get killed?”

“Then get used to this setup, little toy,” Krist said, and all Max could do was sigh in defeat. There was no point arguing with a master joker.

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“Suit yourself,” Max said, and Krist looked away from him and grinned.

Jokers didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was, MJ and his members couldn’t sit at the balcony anymore. Before Krist even decided to surrender his crown brooch to Max, the other brotherhoods, especially the Royals, had been throwing jabs at them, making the younger members feel dejected. Krist accepted the outcome of the battle. He could openly admit that he lost against a white uniform. But as a leader, he had to carry that burden alone.

Krist didn’t want his brothers to feel like they were a failure just because of his defeat, so the best thing he could do was remove themselves from the others.

Sticking with Max was also their best option. Krist wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d assist him. He knew that if Max did end up becoming Elite president, Max wouldn’t just be an ordinary white uniform anymore. Krist’s defeat wouldn’t be as shameful.

“So, have BND spoken to you yet?” Krist asked as waiters brought their lunches. Since Jokers was a brotherhood, their menu was extra special compared to Max and his friends, which made Ari visibly upset.

“No. I don’t think they’re planning anything. Are you even sure about that pageant thing?” Max asked.

Krist didn’t answer but pointed to the balcony where other brotherhoods sat. “BND isn’t there, which means they’re already working on the event. Mr. Brains and Brawn is the biggest event BND handles. If they choose you as a representative, it’ll be a big deal. Everyone across all the houses will talk about it.”

“But they didn’t really choose me. If I hadn’t asked for their favor…”

“ Thanks to you guys, “ Ari mumbled to himself, making Felix step on his feet.

“…they wouldn’t have chosen me. I guess they didn’t have a choice,” Max finished.

“Oh, believe me, they do. Hans just won’t admit it, but he knows you’re capable,” Brave said before taking a huge bite of his sausage. Krist had to toss him his napkin so he could clean the sauce off his mouth.

“And besides, Max is a pretty boy. That probably helped,” Toni said with his mouth full. Krist had to throw another napkin at him.

Apparently, Jokers had terrible table manners.

“Anyway…” Rome leaned forward and scanned the table. His eyes locked onto a slice of Ervin’s chocolate cake. “You gonna eat that? Brotherhoods usually don’t get to have desserts, so I’ve been dying to have a bite of that.”

“Rome, finish your vegetables first,” Krist said, like Rome was his son. The two began arguing, and Max looked over them and suppressed a smile.

Everyone at their table enjoyed their lunch like regular students. As strange as it sounded, lunchtime was the most normal thing to happen in J.S. High. Everyone, including the brotherhoods, played around and chatted with their friends. The noise in the Great Hall grew, but this time, the sound was no longer jarring.                          

It was these moments where Max truly enjoyed being a student in the House of Kings.

“By the way, have you guys finished the homework for our next class?” Felix asked. But just before anyone could answer him, a Duke suddenly entered the Great Hall. To be more specific, the duke was Max’s brother, Marcus Thompson.

“ Looks like big brother’s here to fetch you ,“ Krist whispered as Marcus approached the table.

For some unexplainable reason, Max didn’t want the barons to see him with his brother, so Max tried to ignore him when he got close. The duke, however, saw through the act and grabbed Max by his wrist, pulling him up and forcing him off his seat.

Students watched, bewildered, as the third-highest-ranked brotherhood dragged Max out of the Great Hall.

“And there he goes,” Brave said as he watched the two disappear behind the door.

“Aren’t we going to do anything? A duke practically kidnapped him right before our eyes!” Ervin exclaimed, looking at Ari and Felix, who were finishing their lunch without a care.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Krist reassured him. “I’m pretty sure Marcus wouldn’t do anything bad to his little brother.”

“Oh, that’s good then,” Ervin replied. But after a beat, his eyes widened in shock at what he just heard. 

“His what?!”

…

“Is this even necessary? Being dragged mid-lunch makes you look like a thug and might ruin your precious image,” Max complained as Marcus finally let him go.

“Sorry, but I have no choice. We’re running late, and I don’t want Hans to get pissed,” Marcus explained as he hurried them down the hall.

“Seriously, is no one going to tell me what this is all about?” Max asked, but Marcus kept his mouth shut until they reached an unnecessarily large greenhouse, which Max soon realized was Boys Next Door’s brotherhood base.

At the entrance, Marcus opened the door and waited for Max to enter, but the serf was stubborn. He stopped in his tracks and crossed his arms, demanding a proper explanation before he decided to trade his life to whatever was inside.

“I’ll pay the price for the favor, but I’m not going in until you tell me what’s happening,” Max insisted. 

Marcus groaned and punched Max’s cheek in frustration. “Why are you being so suspicious? Do you honestly think I’ll let them do anything to you?”

Max shoved his hand away. “You’re such a—”

“Why are you two just standing there? Shouldn’t you be inside?” Khian, Marcus’s close friend, appeared behind them. He approached the brothers with his hands in his pockets. Then he stopped in front of Max and reached out to fix his uniform.

“You do know that he has to look his best before he faces Hans, right?”

“I know!” Marcus snapped. “I forgot to tell him this morning to come at 12:30. Hans will kill me.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get your asses over there!” Khian shoved Max forward, and Marcus followed.

The moment they stepped foot inside the greenhouse, Max was welcomed by the members of BND, standing in a horizontal line like they were in a pageant. “Welcome, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” they greeted in unison. They all looked so dazzling that Max could have sworn petals were floating around.

Max bowed his head like he was under a spell. There was something about their aura and presence that made Max feel calm and safe. He felt like a flower that was delicately picked by them. He was starting to understand why the students adored them so much. From afar, they looked performative, but actually—

“You’re fucking late,” Hans said, instantly shattering the fantasy.

Marcus stepped forward. “It’s my fault. I forgot to tell him.”

Hans de Vries, BND’s leader, sighed and rubbed his temple. While he was trying to understand why he had such an incompetent member, another duke leaned forward and told him, “Are you sure about this, Hans? I don’t like this serf’s attitude. He’s too confident. And way too controversial.”

Max glared at the speaker, but none of them was bothered enough to stop. “Besides, he looks like he hasn’t eaten a full meal or slept in weeks. Look at those eye bags. Don’t even get me started with his chapped lips,” the man added, and that was one insult too many.

“That’s because I actually don’t get enough sleep, you judgmental asshole,” Max shot back, and the members of BND fell silent and fixed him with serious stares.

Max clamped his lips shut.

“Well, you also said you wanted someone tough. At least you got that one right,” the man said with a smirk before approaching Max, his god-like features causing Max to stare a little longer than he usually did. 

“Hello, Sinclaire. My name is Arjun Khan . Mother gave me my first name, and father…well, he just signed my birth certificate and went back to work,” he introduced with a light laugh. “I am BND’s second-in-command, and the one tasked to make sure your appearance is worth the judges’ time.”

Max didn’t know how to reply, so he bowed his head slightly to acknowledge the greeting. 

Hans stood beside Arjun and said next, “No need for formal introductions. The names Hans, and I’m in charge of your physical training.”

“P-physical training?” Max stammered. He was about to ask for clarification when the main entrance swung open. Max watched with furrowed brows as fourteen white uniforms entered the greenhouse, looking just as dashing as the dukes. It almost looked like they were competing in a pageant with them.

Everyone lined up in front of BND. Max said nothing, but soon noticed someone who caught his eye. It was the Elites Secretary, Richard Young. His appearance there finally helped Max understand why he let him enter the stadium during his battle with Krist.

“And these are our underlings, the  Roses ,” Hans nodded toward them. “They will be assisting you in—” Hans paused, staring at the Roses and counting them. “Fourteen…there’s only fourteen of you.”

Max looked at the white uniforms and counted them too. Hans was about to question them when the door opened again, revealing the man everyone was waiting for.

“Sorry I’m late,” the voice said, and Max froze at the familiarity.

“ Sorry I’m late ? Is that all you have to say? You’ve been pushing my button, white uniform. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t strip off your title right now, you ungrateful piece of shit,“ Hans snapped as Max turned.

Aristotle Faulkner stood there.

Ari.

His Ari.

Max couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched Ari walk closer. He was no longer the ragged classroom representative Max knew. His red hair was cleanly waxed back. His posture was perfect. And his collar…it bore a rose brooch that Max had only seen for the first time.

“A reason, you say?” Ari stopped in front of Max and grinned. “Well, I’ve been taking care of this troublesome serf like you asked. Now, shouldn’t that be enough reason to let me stay? Isn’t that right, Marcus Thompson?”

|END|

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Hello, everyone! We’re now in Volume 2! I haven’t written a message since I am literally working on these edits like my life depends on it, just so I can republish all of them in a timely manner. Don’t worry, editing has been just as fun as writing. As an English Major, this was such a pleasure to do. Its been a relaxing experience, so I’m glad everyone else has been enjoying the chapters so far.

Also, shout out to my younger sister, who has been helping me with the business side of this story! Not to brag, but she’s currently studying Business Administration Major in Entrepreneurial Management ( I think lol ). It’s literally the perfect degree that I need since I get to just ask her now, unlike five years ago, when I had to learn everything myself.

Another thing, since a bunch of you have been asking about the animated headers, I just want to share that I actually edit them in Canva. Yes, shocking. And it’s very easy. For example: the moving text. I just added some text and clicked the animate option. There, you can choose what animation or movement you want, and then you save it as a GIF.

Again, time is so weird because I used to do my edits in Photoshop and now I’m doing it in Canva, where it’s hella easier. ( That’s where I also make and edit all of the new images I add in the chapters ).

Anyway, I’m sorry if I couldn’t reply to everyone’s messages. I seriously wake up with hundreds of notifications, so it’s a bit difficult to keep track. But rest assured, I read through them when I can, and I am very very happy to see everyone active in this community again. Thank you, everyone.

Volume 2 is one of my favorite volumes to write. I loved how action-y it was, and how Max is starting to gain a reputation and have a clearer goal. I hope you, new and old readers, enjoy it too.

Now I’ll see you in another random chapter in Volume 3!

Much love,

N

40 | Next Target

♜

WHY DID THIS STILL surprise him, even though he had suspected it from the very beginning? He saw all the signs. Of course Ari was an underling of BND. There was no other explanation.

“If you hadn’t asked me to take care of your little brother here, I wouldn’t have constantly been tormented by those brotherhoods,” Ari complained, looking at Marcus, who was already regretting assigning Ari for such an important task.

“If you hadn’t been asked, you wouldn’t be here now, would you?” Marcus shot back. “You’re enjoying the privileges of a gaffer thanks to me. Looking after Max should have been easy.”

“If I had known how stubborn he was, I wouldn’t have cared about the privileges!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!”

Max sighed and stepped between them. “Excuse me…I’m right here. What do you take me for, a baby? Who needs to take care of whom? If you ask me, it’s you two who need serious parental guidance.”

Marcus and Ari looked at Max, ready to defend themselves, when Hans suddenly shoved them apart. “Enough! Both of you!” Hans’ authority sucked the noise out of the greenhouse. “Have you no shame? Quarreling in front of your leader? I should strip both of you of your titles.”

Marcus inhaled deeply and bowed to Hans. “I apologize. I lost my temper. It won’t happen again.”

Hans sighed and rubbed his temple. “If President Janus hadn’t asked one of our underlings to watch him, this wouldn’t have happened. I know you two don’t get along, but have the decency to hide it in front of everyone.”

“W-wait…President Janus asked Ari to watch over me?” Max asked as soon as Hans paused.

Arjun, standing beside Max with arms crossed, answered, “Technically, he asked for a Rose to watch over you, but we don’t have sophomore underlings. Most are third and fourth years, so Faulkner here was recruited specifically for that task. He somehow fit the criteria. He’s smart, from a family of scholars and Nobel Prize winners, and in rare cases, carries himself with grace.”

“But he has a shitty personality,” Khian added, earning a glare from Ari that proved the point.

“We only needed to give him enough points to make him a gaffer, which is a title that will protect you. Or so President Janus believed,” Arjun said, gesturing at Ari’s golden armband.

Max nodded at the new information. But after letting the info sink in, Max looked at Ari and asked, “So you’re telling me that you weren’t a gaffer before I got here?”

The question left the members quiet, but after a second, the silence was filled with Marcus’s laughter. “Him? Oh please. He only became a gaffer during the final term last year. If it weren’t for us, he would have stayed a serf.”

“Hey, I also ranked second in the exams, so those points helped too. I would have at least turned into a dweller without your help,” Ari defended, but no one was interested enough to care.

“He was a serf originally?” Max asked instead.

“To be honest, aside from his family background, Faulkner was notorious before he even became a gaffer. The title only made the white uniforms fear him a little more, which was why Marcus decided to pick him,” Arjun explained. “Others didn’t really agree at first, but then we saw his hair. We call our underlings Roses. His fake red sealed the deal.”

Overhearing what the duke said, Ari touched his hair unconsciously and sighed.

“I can’t believe Ari was a serf. He always had that gaffer vibe,” Max muttered, ignoring Arjun’s strange criteria.

While Max was trying to imagine what kind of serf Ari was like, Hans cleared his throat to grab his attention. “We don’t have all day. Let’s inspect him and get this over with.”

“Inspect him?”

On cue, Arjun stepped forward, gripped Max by the chin, and began an assessment. A Rose held a notebook like an assistant while Arjun circled Max, commenting on his posture. He was about to touch Max’s back next when Ari grabbed his wrist.

“I suggest you stop carelessly touching him,” Ari said, his warning surprising the dukes, especially Marcus. “Max doesn’t like being touched. It’s one of the things he hates the most.”

Max suppressed a smile while Marcus chuckled, impressed at how observant Ari had become. Now he was starting to doubt if Ari kept protecting Max because it was his duty or because the fake redhead was starting to take a liking to him.

“Very well.”

Thanks to Ari, Arjun took a step back, giving Max a little more space. He continued giving notes to his assistant until he pulled out a measuring tape.

“May I?” Arjun asked politely. 

Max had no idea why they needed to go the extra mile to assess him, but he nodded anyway.

With his consent, Arjun measured him. “Your face structure is exquisite, your posture is perfect, and your proportions are ideal. The only problem is that you need to sleep and eat properly. You look like you’re about to faint. There’s barely any blood in your lower eyelid, either. Get a health check after this.”

“Sorry, but Krist said I’m participating in an event called Mr. Brains and Brawn. Beauty isn’t even in the title, so why is this necessary?” Max protested.

The members of BND gathered in front of him, while Ari joined the rest of the Roses.

“True, but it’s in the criteria since it’s technically still a pageant,” another duke said. Max stared and remembered his face. His name’s Leo Underwood, an ex-Alpha Society member and the only third-year in BND.

“Okay, if it’s such a big deal, then why don’t you guys just participate yourselves? You all already look like you’ve won Manhunt International,” Max said, arms crossed.

“We pulled a flag and declared war for you. Participating is the least you can do,” Hans replied. “Besides, we’re members of a brotherhood. We can’t take part in activities meant for white uniforms. Those are the rules set across all the houses.” 

“Anyway, are you confident in your fighting? We saw you battle Krist, but one-on-one fights are different.” Khian asked next, and this time, Max completely lost it.

“I-I’m sorry, but…fighting? A couple of minutes ago, you were commenting on my eyebags and now you want to know if I could fight? What on earth am I participating in? What the hell is Mr. Brains and Brawns? Max asked in frustration.

Everyone in the greenhouse looked at each other, amused by Max’s lack of knowledge regarding the biggest event in their country.

“I seriously don’t know how you managed to make Jokers kneel to you,” Hans mocked as he approached Max, stopping just a few inches away from him. 

Max wanted to say something, but Hans cut him off.

“Mr. Brains and Brawn is an annual pageant showcasing the best men from the world’s most prestigious schools. It’s been running for eighteen years. In 2018, the white uniforms from the House of Rooks, Knights, Bishops, and Kings started entering. Two years ago, we were assigned to train our house’s contestant. But unfortunately…we have never won it.”

Max listened, the weight of it finally settling in.

“The chosen student represents the entire school. Do you know how embarrassing it is that we’ve never won? Even the House of Knights has taken the crown, yet the kings haven’t,” Leo said as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

“This is BND’s last year at J.S. High. We want to leave a legacy,” Arjun revealed to Max.

Max took a deep breath and scanned the faces of Boys Next Door. A few days ago, he had asked his brother how he’d be able to conquer the dukes. It seemed like a path opened itself. And the pageant was definitely the path he’d need to walk on.

Hans watched Max’s reaction and instantly knew what the young heir had in mind.

“We’re not Jokers,” he said. “BND has stayed true to our ideals since its founding. We pride ourselves on our underlings. Our name has never been stained, and we intend to keep it that way.”

Marcus stepped forward. “You asked how you’d conquer BND. I think you’ve figured it out.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

Hans reached out and touched the crown brooch on Max’s collar, an action that made Max glance at Hans’ own crown brooch. “I don’t like you, but let’s see if you can change my opinion. A month from now, you will represent J.S. High in Mr. Brains and Brawn. Win, and we’ll give you our recognition…”

“That’s—”

“Along with two thousand merit points, the maximum we can award any white uniform in this house,” Hans added.

Max almost gasped at the number.

“Winning also grants an additional one thousand merit points. With three thousand merit points, plus what you earned from Jokers, your rank will jump drastically—a rank no white uniform who started this year could ever reach,” Khian explained.

Max was too shocked to speak, so Marcus approached his brother and smiled at him excitedly. “This is how you’ll conquer the third-highest-ranked brotherhood in the House of Kings. Will you take it seriously now, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire?”

|END|

41 | Needing Advice

♜

MAX WAS WALKING DOWN the hallway with Ari, his head in the clouds after his conversation with the dukes. He had been too preoccupied he nearly walked into a wall before Ari pulled him aside just before his face could make contact.

“You keep nagging about how you don’t need babysitters, but you can barely even walk properly,” Ari complained, letting go of Max’s arm. The release finally snapped Max back to his senses.

As Max regained his composure, he ignored Ari’s jab and said, “Three thousand, Ari. We’re talking about three thousand points. I never thought I’d be able to get that much in our first term. I might end up being a gaffer like you after this.” He said it with confidence.

Ari raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, Max?”

“Why? It’s not like someone else could get that many points either,” Max answered, earning a light smack on the head from Ari.

“You’re underestimating J.S. High, Max. There’s a reason these white uniforms are in the House of Kings and not in Rooks or Bishops. You’ll be training for a month with BND, and in that timeframe, you’ll probably gain zero points while others rack theirs up. Those three thousand points you’re so excited about aren’t even guaranteed. There’s a possibility you’d lose and earn nothing,” Ari explained. 

To prove his point further, Ari also took out his student card and added, “Even I’m ranking up. I’m at 3,990 points now.”

Max’s eyes widened. “What? You just had 3,660 last week! What did you do?”

“You think you’re the only one whose been busy? While you were doing your thing with Jokers and the Omega Society, I wrote a dissertation on Michel Foucault and applied his theories about how merit points control social structure. My club published it in Singapore the other day,” Ari said casually, which made Max stare as if Ari were from another planet.

Max sighed and rubbed his temple. “Your looks and personality make me forget how smart you are sometimes.”

Ari didn’t take it as a compliment, but he brushed it off. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, everyone’s getting points every day. Juniors and seniors have insane totals. You’ll have to break through those barriers before you can even reach the top one hundred, let alone the top five.”

Max said nothing because he knew Ari was right. He got too overconfident again when he heard the stakes. After his victory with Jokers, Max thought this was another easy win, but he reminded himself that this attitude was what made Krist look down on him. Max needed to change that about himself. He needed to change what he realized was something his parents had instilled in him since birth.

As a kid, Max believed he could conquer anything because he’s a Sinclaire and a Lemiuex. He took things for granted. Now it’s time for him to take things seriously. He needed to be confident because of his own skills. And through Mr. Brains & Brawn, he could definitely gain and hone those said skills.

“You’re right,” Max said, looking at Ari with a smile. He wasn’t particularly happy that his uncle thought he needed protection, but now he was grateful that Janus had decided to assign someone to watch over him, and that someone happened to be Ari. 

Ari may have a bad temper, but he’s blunt and reliable. Max did not need flattery, especially when he aimed to conquer the Kings. He needed someone like Ari who would keep him humble and grounded.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Max said. 

Ari smiled back and slung an arm around him. “But don’t worry, you’ll do great. You conquered Jokers after all, and no other white uniform had ever done that before. Who knows, you might just make those dukes bow too, and believe me, I’d be standing front and center to witness that.”

…

The bell rang, and everyone prepared to go home. Thanks to his conversation with Ari, Max was no longer consumed by merit points. He focused instead on improving himself and winning the pageant, which was more important.

“So you’re excused for a month?” Felix asked while waiting for Ari to finish packing; Ervin and Max waited with him.

“The pageant is next month. President Janus allowed me to focus on training for better chances of getting a shot at it, though I’ll still attend classes when I can. I don’t want to flunk either,” Max explained.

“You do know what this so-called pageant actually is, right?” Ervin asked, but Ari immediately tossed a pencil case at him. “Don’t spoil it, you party pooper!”

Before another argument could start, Max cleared his throat. “I don’t know much about it, I admit, but I want to learn so I know what to improve. Hans also said J.S. High has never won. I have to check that out too. I need to know why that’s the case.”

“If you want to know so badly, ask Richard Young. He was the representative last year. I can give you his number,” Ari suggested, grabbing his bag and standing from his seat.

“Richard Young? The Elites’ secretary?” Ervin asked.

“Isn’t he a Rose? Why would you have his number?” Felix added as the four of them made their way to the door.

“It’s because I’m a Rose too,” Ari revealed casually, and Max almost smacked himself at how easy Ari had to reveal that to them.

Felix and Ervin froze before bursting out in laughter. Max and Ari watched them until the two settled down. After a moment, they stared at Ari, their mouths slowly opening wide after realizing that the redhead wasn’t joking at all.

“Ha?!” they both called, making Max rub his temple at their volume.

“You? A Rose? How did that happen? I thought BND follows three principles: honor, passion, and grace. You don’t even fit one of those,” Ervin complained, earning an exasperated glare from Ari.

“Great. Now we have a Jack and a Rose,” Felix said, crossing his arms.

“Felix is actually an asshole, Max’s brother is Marcus Thompson, and Ari’s a Rose. This can’t get any weirder,” Ervin muttered quietly. Thankfully, their classroom was already empty. If it weren’t, their group would only get more attention than they already have.

“Alright, let’s move on,” Max said, and they finally left the room. 

At the Keep, cars waited to fetch them. Felix left first with two bodyguards. Ari, surprisingly, had a butler. While Ervin headed for the parking lot to get his motorbike. Well, his Combat Wraith, to be more specific.

“Master Leigh,” Étienne greeted as he opened the car door for Max.

Max climbed in, and they drove out of J.S. High’s walls. 

Max shed his serf persona. He removed his cap, ran fingers through his hair, unbuttoned his coat, and loosened his tie. As he settled in his seat, his phone lit up. Ari had sent Richard Young’s number as promised.

Max laughed. “Can’t believe the first message I ever got from you is someone else’s number,” he said, since he and his friends never talked outside of school before.

Max stared at the number and saved it in his contacts before deciding to just go for it. With no time wasted, he composed a formal message and sent it in an instant.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/102c73e6871ce4c3b48eec7486ecc1efd9c4a1df/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f376f6f6b6d354a6c594d4f6947413d3d2d313036363831393836372e313839653364353430336431383063323838383930313530313037342e706e67)               

Two minutes later, his phone buzzed.

“That was quick.”

Max stared at the message, deliberating where to meet. He replied, then told Étienne, “Head to our hotel on Westside Avenue. I have a meeting.”

Étienne nodded in the rearview mirror without comment and turned toward the Sinclaire Hotel, where Max is expected to meet the third-highest-ranked white uniform in the House of Kings.

When they arrived, Étienne parked his car at the entrance and handed the keys to the valet. Max stepped out, and the guests at the hotel stopped to get a look. Most recognized who he was, but a lot of them stared because of the infamous uniform. It was a good thing he no longer wore the cap.

Max walked in, and employees who spotted him instantly stopped to greet him. It was rare for him to visit their hotels since he’s usually at the company, so the employees had no clue how they’d react. 

Word of Max’s visit reached the hotel’s general manager. She rushed to welcome Max at the lobby, politely introducing herself before leading Max and Étienne to the restaurant where Max is supposed to meet Richard Young. While they were walking, the manager began giving him reports that Max hadn’t asked for. The young heir didn’t say anything but listened to her attentively until they reached the restaurant.

“If you have any more concerns, I’m available at eight p.m. tomorrow. Visit my office, and I’ll listen to the rest of your report,” Max said when the manager finished.

“I-I’m sorry?” she stammered.

Étienne entered the schedule on his tablet with a stylus. “He’ll be waiting for you at exactly eight p.m. Please, don’t be late,” he told her before accompanying Max inside.

“Good evening, Sir Maximilian. Mr. Richard Young is waiting,” the receptionist informed them.

A private room guarded by three men in dark suits and glasses awaited. One guard bowed to Max, and the other opened the door.

“Stay here,” Max told Étienne as he entered alone. As the door closed behind him, Max spotted Richard checking the menu. And like Max, he was still wearing his white uniform. 

When Richard saw Max enter, he put the menu down and got up from his seat. Richard removed the cap he still had on and slightly bowed his head to greet him. Max found it strange, but he reminded himself that he was no longer in J.S. High. And out here…

Max is number one.

“I’m honored you contacted me personally, Sir Sinclaire,” Richard politely said, his personality not far from what he shows in school.

“Max is fine. Please, take your seat. I called you, so no need for formalities, “ Max told him. “I would also like to apologize for the short notice .”

“There is no need to apologize. I will always be available if needed by someone with your standing,” Richard replied, and Max almost grinned.

“Well, shall we order first?”

The two sat down and got ready to order. Max insisted that Richard choose what he liked, but the secretary trusted Max’s tastes and let the young heir order for both of them. 

Since it was still too early for dinner, Max ordered tea and a bunch of pastries that he hoped Richard would enjoy. While the tea was still hot, Max no longer beat around the bush. He began his questions.

“Now, about the pageant. I know we shouldn’t discuss school events outside campus, but could you make an exception?”

“It’s in our oath,” Richard said, taking a sip of his tea. “But the rules don’t forbid private conversations between students. So, don’t worry, Sir Sinclaire. Everything we talk about here will stay here.”

“Alright then.” Max nodded. “Can you tell me more about the pageant?”

“I wouldn’t call it a pageant. It’s more of a…competition. I represented J.S. High last year. Usually, BND selects from their pool of underlings. I was chosen and became second runner-up, the highest our house has ever reached. It may not be as outstanding, but that placement wasn’t easy to obtain.”

“Why not?”

“There are twelve contestants from the world’s most prestigious schools. They train for a full year because winning the competition is seen as proof of your school’s excellence,” Richard explained, and Max couldn’t believe he had no idea about the whole thing when a bunch of schools are even training for it.

“There are two stages. The first assesses beauty and physical attributes. Contestants look sculpted like dolls, so you must match that. Thankfully, that’s not going to be much of a problem in your case.”

Max brushed the subtle compliment away. “And the second stage?”

“The second stage is the most awaited portion of the competition. Pageant contestants usually say that they shed blood, sweat, and tears to obtain the crown. But in Mr. Brains & Brawn, contestants take that literally,” Richard said, his calm expression slowly turning into the familiar excitement Max had seen on the faces of students in J.S. High.

“Because the second stage…is a battle royale,” the secretary finally revealed.

Max almost choked on the slice of cake in his mouth.

“Can you say that again?” Max asked, grabbing a napkin.

Richard repeated, “Battle Royale. The last man standing wins Mr. Brains and Brawn. Of course, not literal killing, but you get the point.”

Max breathed in slowly, trying to absorb it. The mention of battle royale made his head spin, but compared to everything else he had experienced in J.S. High so far, this might not be as bad as he thought it was.

“To be honest, I thought you’d know,” Richard said. “You studied at Westberg Academy, didn’t you?”

“What does that have to do with it?” Max asked, and Richard furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Well, Westberg has won Mr. Brains and Brawn five times. Didn’t you know? I thought you were the council president there. Weren’t you informed of their victories?”

Max massaged his temple and sighed in shame. “I was president, but I mostly signed papers and paid for things. I wasn’t even elected. The school president just gave me the title when my father donated twenty million. I didn’t go to school much either. The teachers there gave me high grades even when I barely went.”

Richard blinked, then nodded as if it made sense.

“But forget about that. I’m still surprised that Westberg has been dominating that competition. I guess they’re not useless sheep after all. At least they had something in them,” Max said, finishing his cake.

“Not just something…everything. They have looks, brains, and skills. Their representatives get chosen a year ahead and train through summer and winter break,” Richard said, which only made things harder for Max.

“Then this is going to be impossible. I’ll only be training for a month. And even if I wanted to win, my physical strength isn’t the best. I don’t know why BND chose me for such an important event. I could have done something else that doesn’t involve me bringing shame to the entire house,” Max said, his lack of grit making Richard stare.

Richard had assumed Max was a proud, overconfident boy, but in fact, Max knew his limits, and that attitude was something the secretary admired.

“They said not to tell you, but actually, BND wanted you the moment they learned you enrolled in J.S. High,” Richard revealed. “Hans wasn’t sure at first, so the other dukes had to be persistent. Your performance with Jokers also made it possible. Looking at it, you didn’t even have to ask them a favor. They were going to choose you despite it.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Sir Sinclaire, you are the epitome of a perfect heir, and BND knew that and took their chances. You don’t even have to do anything to make it work. Your presence alone will intimidate the other contestants.”

“Wait, are you trying to make me feel better?” Max teased, and Richard almost laughed.

“I appreciate the ego boost, Mr. Young, but intimidation won’t be enough. Intimidating contestants won’t make me a winner,” Max added, and Richard finished his tea, nodding his head to agree to Max’s sentiments.

“You’re right. But there’s another thing that you have that the other contestant doesn’t.”

“And what could that be?”

Richard leaned in, smirking. “Boys Next Door. You’ll have the third-highest brotherhood training you. I’m confident their month of focused training will outmatch others’ one-year prep. I can guarantee it.”

|END|

42 | Big Surprise

♜

MAX TOOK A DEEP breath and walked down the pavilion in his P.E. uniform. His training began today, and as for BND’s request, Max wasn’t wearing their famous white uniform.

Another stipulation from the brotherhood was secrecy. No one was to know Max was the Mr. Brains & Brawn representative. They were afraid that his participation might leak outside campus, which Max thought was unlikely since Viktor’s identity had never even been leaked before.

“Max!” a voice called from behind him.

He stopped and turned to see Jokers’ youngest, Rome, approaching. When the jester came closer, Max noticed the black on his hands wasn’t gloves but paint.

“What happened to you?” Max asked, waiting for Rome to close the distance.

Rome glanced at his hands and laughed at himself as he remembered. “We got a fool’s request from a white uniform. We haven’t done a jack-in-a-box since you beat us, so we got excited. We usually have our Jacks set the pranks, but this time we did it ourselves.”

“Your target must be very lucky,” Max said sarcastically and started walking again. Rome fell into step beside him.

“So, how did it go with BND? Did Hans say anything mean?” Rome asked, and Max sighed. Nothing had happened yet, but after his talk with Richard the night before, the pressure already sat heavy on his shoulders.

“I was confident when I first arrived at J.S. High. I know now how stupid I must have looked, but even when I tried to conquer Jokers, I didn’t feel threatened at first. But after acquiring Krist’s brooch, I couldn’t help but feel anxious about BND,” Max admitted, surprising Rome with the sudden frankness.

Rome thought for a moment. “I mean, there’s a lot at stake now. With Jokers, you didn’t have to lose much, but with BND, you could lose merit points and the Dukes’ respect. And that’s worth more than our respect, honestly.”

“That just made me feel worse,” Max joked, and they laughed.

“But to make things clear, earning the barons’ respect has been my greatest achievement,” Max then said, looking at Rome. “Jokers isn’t lesser than Boys Next Door. Winning your favor is just as important to me as winning BND’s favor. Remember that.”

Rome looked at Max’s eyes and smiled in response. When they got near the garden, Rome stopped and drew a breath. “Hey, Max.”

Max turned. “What is it?”

Rome awkwardly peeled off the dry paint on his hand. “Master Joker might not show it, but we know he’s been struggling. He and Brave graduate this year, and we juniors aren’t sure we can keep the baron’s position. Since his defeat, students have mocked us. Brotherhoods too. Krist tries to shield it from us, but we know,” Rome said, Max listening to him attentively.

“Krist feels obliged to restore Jokers’ name and reputation. For us, it’s not everything, but for him it matters. We joined this brotherhood because it was fun, and we didn’t care about what others thought of us. That was our principle. But after his battle with you, I think something inside him changed,” Rome explained further.

Max unconsciously touched the crown brooch on his collar.

“Max, if you win Mr. Brains & Brawn, like…really win it, it will help him. MJ looks after us. We—” 

“Okay,” Max cut him off, grabbing Rome’s shoulder. “I’ll do it, not just for BND but for you guys too. I’ll win that competition, and I’ll make sure everyone knows that the brotherhood that made this all possible…was Jokers.”

Rome pouted, looking like he was on the verge of tears. Letting his emotions take over, the baron hugged him with childish enthusiasm. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best heir in the world!”

Max was surprised. His instincts told him to push Rome away, but just for once, he let him be.

“And what do you think you’re doing to our representative, jester?” a voice asked. Rome released Max, and they turned to see a BND member carrying two large boxes that nearly hid his face. Max hurried over and took one box to help. He stepped back and blinked. Up close, the man was striking, and his brown eyes seemed to glow like embers in sunlight.

Max hadn’t noticed him enough during the meeting. Maybe he had a way of letting himself blend in with the crowd despite how he looked.

“Thank you,” the man said, and Max nodded in reply.

Rome, still recovering from the hug, placed his hands on his hips and complained, “Sir Red, a good morning would’ve been nice.”

“Good morning,” Red replied with no hesitation, causing Rome to frown.

“How am I going to—” Before Rome could finish what he was about to say, a scream was suddenly heard from the pavilion. The three of them turned their heads, and a white uniform covered in black paint stumbled into view,

“Who did this to me!? I’m going to kill you!” he shouted as students swarmed.

Max squinted. “Is that…a fourth-year gaffer?”

Red looked back at Rome, who hid his paint-stained hands behind his back and laughed awkwardly. “I think I’d better go. See you later, Max! Happy training!” Rome bolted before Max could even say goodbye.

“They’re at it again,” Red said, massaging his temple. “But that’s what makes them Jokers, isn’t it?” 

Max smiled and nodded to agree.

“Well, where are my manners. I wasn’t given the spotlight yesterday, but for formality’s sake, my name is Redford Monsour ,” the man introduced. “You can call me Red.” He glanced at Max’s occupied hands. “I’d shake your hand, but—” he gestured to the boxes.

“No worries,” Max replied, glad to help the duke carry the load.

“We’ll need these suits for a photoshoot,” Red explained as they walked to BND’s base. “Starting next week, they’ll reveal one contestant a day to boost publicity. Sponsors love that. And when they’re happy, the organizers get better production. Better production means better ratings.

“Ratings?” Max repeated. “It’ll be broadcast? No one told me that.”

Red looked at him like he’d lived under a rock. “It’s Mr. Brains & Brawn. It’s always on TV. How haven’t you seen it?”

“I don’t watch television and read the news because I’m afraid I’d see myself in it. And now I’m intentionally throwing myself at them? Do you know how fierce the media can be? I could barely go to public places because of them. They’d even make ridiculous articles about me, like what kind of toothpaste I use. I don’t have any clue why people find that interesting,” Max explained, almost making Red laugh because he’d never seen the heir so engaged in such a topic.

For a moment, Max—the boy who’s always been dubbed as the most powerful heir in the world—seemed almost like a normal teenager.

“Believe me, people are very  interested. I heard the newspapers that featured you during our Welcome Ball were sold out within minutes,” Red shared, making Max glare at him.

“Well, it can’t be helped now, can it? At least this time you’re on TV because you chose to be in it, and not because the media forcefully placed you there,” Red explained, even though it didn’t make Max feel any better.

Max didn’t say anything anymore as the two walked their way to the greenhouse. When they got there, the two stopped in front of the entrance. Red placed the boxes on the floor to grab the key in his pocket. And while he was doing so, he suddenly said, “I know you don’t really have a choice in doing this because of us, but I hope you find a reason to enjoy the process.”

“I don’t hate it, though,” Max clarified as he set the box down as well. 

Red smiled and nodded before putting the key in the keyhole. Before turning it, he looked back at Max and continued, “We chose you because we believed in you, Max. Don’t think we chose you solely because you asked us for a favor. We wouldn’t risk it for that reason alone.”

Max wasn’t entirely surprised, since Richard had already told him about it last night, but hearing it from an actual member of BND made him feel lighthearted. As if his doubts about himself slowly started to crumble.

“Anyway, we’ll be training rigorously for an entire month, so don’t worry. We won’t let you set foot on the battlefield unprepared,” the duke assured him while finally turning the key.

The door clicked. Red was about to pick the boxes up from the ground when he suddenly stopped midway.

Max looked at him with furrowed brows. “Are you okay?”

Red, looking just as confused, looked around the area before turning back to Max. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?”

“Ticking…” Red answered. “Something’s ticking.”

Max tried to listen, but before he could move closer, Red’s eyes widened in a panic. Without warning, he grabbed Max’s arm and tackled him to the ground. Using his body as cover, the duke wrapped himself around Max. The ticking stopped…

And then the greenhouse exploded.

Pain and heat slammed into Max. Three more explosions followed. He froze, ears ringing as his vision blurred beneath a veil of dust and smoke. Red kept him shielded from flying debris.

The ground stopped shaking.

“Max! Can you hear me?! Are you okay?” Red shouted.

Max, who was in a state of shock, tried to make sense of what had happened. He stared at Red’s silhouette, his voice muffled as if he were underwater.

“Max, look at me. Please,” Red urged. 

Max blinked, his vision slowly returning. He realized his body was trembling, but he tried to reach for Red, wrapping his arms around him until he felt the glass shards embedded in the duke’s back. 

“Y-you’re hurt,” Max stammered, panic lacing his voice. He then felt something warm drip in his cheek. He looked back at Red’s face and saw blood trickling from the side of his forehead.

Max’s eyes widened in shock as he slowly reached for Red’s head, staining his trembling hand with blood. “We…we n-need to get you…to the hospital.”

“Max, calm down. I’m fine,” Red assured him.

“No…hospital. We need to get you…to the hospital.” Max wiped the blood from Red’s cheek. He tried to stand, but his body wouldn’t let him. He felt his chest tighten, his mind spiral out of control, and before he realized it, tears began to stream out from his eyes.

For the first time, Max was genuinely terrified. 

He always had a plan. He had doubts, but he always pushed through. But this time, Max felt hopeless. He couldn’t even breathe properly anymore.

“Max…I-I’m okay,” Red continued to calm him down despite his voice becoming visibly weaker. He tried to stay conscious long enough for someone to arrive, but he was losing blood faster than he could stop it. He was reaching his limits.

Red forced a smile, but his body finally betrayed him. With one final breath, he looked at Max and told him, “ It’s going to be…f-fine. You have us…remember? “ 

And then…

…he fainted.

“R-Red?” Max called out, but the duke no longer responded. “No…n-no…Red! Red, answer me!”

Max shouted Red’s name until his voice became hoarse.  He wanted to lift him, but his vision suddenly became blurry again. His head throbbed, and his body could no longer move. 

His eyes slowly closed. And the last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was Hans and Krist calling out his name, and the chaotic swirl of voices.

|END|

43 | Pointing Fingers

♜

THE SOUND FROM A vital-signs monitor sounded in the background as Max slept peacefully in his bed. Beside him, Red had woken a minute earlier.

The two of them had been brought to the clinic as soon as BND and Jokers reached the scene. Thankfully, J.S. High’s clinic was fully equipped. They had almost everything a regular hospital would need because students regularly suffered serious injuries from brotherhood battles.

“Red, I am indebted to you. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to Max,” Marcus said, dropping to his knees in front of Red.

“Hey, stand up,” Red said, but Marcus did not move.

“T-Thank you. Thank you, Red,” Marcus continued, tears running down his face.

Red sighed and sat up slowly, patting Marcus’s head as a quiet comfort.

Hans sat in the room, as did Krist and Brave, who were standing near the door. The three of them said nothing. They knew they were in no position to say anything to Marcus, especially when his little brother had been involved.

Marcus finally looked up. Red gave him a small, reassuring smile. “The shards were small. I only have cuts. The uniform helped too—its material protected me. You don’t need to worry,” Red told Marcus, then glanced at the boy in the bed. “Your brother will also be fine.”

Marcus took a long breath and moved to Max’s bedside. “He didn’t have a single injury, but he was in an erratic state. The doctors gave him minor tranquilizers to calm him.” He sat at the edge of the bed and touched Max’s face. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him like that. I never wanted to see it again, but—”

The room fell silent. Hans stood and said, “Usually we get treated here so the media won’t swarm, but don’t you think it’s better to take him to the hospital?”

Marcus thought, then shook his head. “Max doesn’t like hospitals. Besides, he just needs rest. His butler will be here any minute to take him home.”

Hans nodded, respecting Marcus’s decision. Shortly after, someone knocked, and Brave opened the door to reveal the Elites’ vice president, Gavriil Alexeev.

“Alexeev…what are you doing here?” Hans asked.

Gavriil touched his chest and bowed to everyone before answering. “I apologize for the intrusion. The Brotherhood Association’s Investigation Unit has arrived and already begun looking through the scene of the explosion.”

“The Investigation Unit?” Hans repeated, shocked.

“If those guys are here, then this is serious. The Association rarely handles these problems,” Brave said.

“This was requested by President Janus,” Gavriil continued. “We’re also conducting our own investigation. If anything comes up, we’ll inform you immediately.”

Krist, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “What’s there to investigate? Isn’t it obvious? It was Viktor. No doubt about it.”

Silence settled. No one wanted to say it aloud earlier, but the first person that came to their mind after the incident was their cruel king, Viktor.

Krist stepped forward when no one disagreed with him. “He knew the pageant was coming. He knows Max could win and get merit points. Viktor’s scared that—”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Hans barked, the tension in the room rising. “My base exploded, and my brother was nearly killed, along with Marcus’. There’s no man cruel enough to do that…except we have no proof!”

“Calm down, both of you,” Red said, and everyone turned to him. “If Viktor wanted to sabotage us, why go to that length? Why plant bombs on our base? We can still train Max without the greenhouse, so it doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. Viktor’s an asshole,” Brave replied. Red sighed and rubbed his temple. He understood why everyone thought as such, but their judgment was clearly being dictated by the severity of what happened.

“I’ll agree Viktor is cruel, but I don’t see what he’d gain,” Red insisted.

“Why are you suddenly defending him?” Krist demanded, irritated.

“I’m not defending him. I’m saying we shouldn’t fixate on Viktor. For all we know, it could even be you, considering how you like to pull pranks,” Red shot back, and Krist lunged at him.

“What did you say?!” Krist yelled, but Brave restrained him before things worsened.

“How about you, Marcus?” Hans asked. “You haven’t said anything. Who do you suspect, especially when it involves your brother?”

Marcus glanced at Max, then at Hans. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t suspect Viktor, but I think—”

The school bell suddenly rang, and the speaker crackled. “ All white uniforms are required to leave campus immediately. Brotherhoods are requested at the stadium for an emergency meeting with President Janus. I repeat: report to the stadium for an emergency meeting with President Janus .“

“Fuck,” Hans muttered.

“This is bad…like,  really bad. Max being involved makes it worse,” Brave said, anxious at the thought of meeting up with Janus. 

Janus might look like the fun and aloof president of J.S. High, but the brotherhoods knew what kind of president he really was. There’s a reason why he’s the head of the House of Kings.

“No time to waste. We should go before the president arrives,” Hans said, looking to Red. “Will you and Sinclaire be all right here?”

“I’ll take care of them,” Gavriil suddenly volunteered, surprising everyone. Hans nodded and left with Krist and Brave.

“Gavriil…” Marcus looked like he wanted to say something to the vice president, but he held back and just nodded. “Thank you.”

Gavriil bowed as the door closed, leaving him with the injured. He turned to Red and told him, “I heard your sister will be arriving soon with your family doctor to take you home. You should rest while you wait.”

Red said nothing and went back to bed, closing his eyes to get some sleep.

The room fell silent, and Gavriil drew a breath and approached Max’s bed. He stared at the unconscious heir and clenched his fist.

“ You must have been terrified,“  he whispered.

He slowly reached out to touch Max, but he paused midway and pulled his hand back. The monitor continued to hum, and Gavriil walked to a chair and sat there in silence, unaware that Red had seen everything.

[J.S. High, at the Stadium ]

All the brotherhoods convened at the stadium, except for the Royals, who took their time. No one spoke. But when the Kings and Princes arrived, everyone’s attention snapped to them. Hans rose and, before anyone could stop him, ran at Viktor and grabbed him by the collar.

Busters moved to intervene, but Viktor lifted a hand to halt them. “Hans, what happened to class and elegance?” he said with a relaxed expression, which only angered Hans further.

“You hurt my brother and destroyed my base, yet you expect me to show class and elegance?!” Hans shouted. His voice echoed across the stadium; his anger was visible. Viktor, however, seemed unfazed.

“Is that all?” Viktor asked, yawning as if mocking Hans.

Hans, losing control, punched Viktor hard enough to put him on the floor. Busters watched and said nothing, letting their leader handle the situation by himself.

“If I had no respect for the dead, I’d punch you so hard your whole clan would welcome you in hell,” Hans spat, and those words finally tipped Viktor into visible fury. Even the other brotherhoods sighed, cursing Hans for digging his own grave.

Viktor wiped the blood from his mouth and stood. “How dare you—” he began, only for President Ian to stride into the stadium unannounced. His appearance automatically made the two leaders stop. Viktor glared at the president, but he didn’t dare say anything.

“You lay a finger on him, and I will suspend you and your brotherhood. It is against the rules to physically attack each other outside battles. Break it, and you’ll see who’s the toughest one here,” Ian warned. They seldom saw him angry, but when he was, everyone listened.

Hans inhaled and returned to his seat as Hee-joon helped Viktor to join his brothers. 

President Janus arrived shortly after. Everyone in the stadium got up and bowed to show respect, but Janus wasn’t even in the mood to look at them. He ignored the greeting and walked to the middle, facing the brotherhoods who were positioned at the bleachers.

Ian asked the brotherhoods to sit. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Janus finally spoke. “I am very disappointed,” he began, his voice low. “J.S. High has faced horrific events over the years, but never like this.”

Heads bowed, and some trembled. It was rare for both the white uniforms and the brotherhoods to meet President Janus. Some said that the only time you’ll get to see him was at the beginning of the school year and the end of it. Seeing him in between those instances meant something bad.

“Destroying my property is one thing. Involving students is another. How dare you pull such a stunt in my house?!” Janus thundered, and several brotherhood members visibly flinched. Like Ian, his presence and suffocating aura reminded them why he’s the president.

“If you step forward and admit now, I will reduce your punishment. If no one confesses and I find out the truth myself, suspension won’t be the only consequence,” he warned, stepping closer to the bleachers.

No one wanted to speak. They could only look at each other, hoping one would admit to the crime. But as the tension began to rise, Master Joker finally decided to say something.

“Don’t be shy now, king. We all know you did it.”

“How about you shut your mouth, you useless clown?” a Busters member shot back.

“Why would I? It’s obvious the only man capable of this is Viktor. Everyone here knows it,” Krist declared, rising from his seat.

Another king stood to defend their leader. “Why are you all pinning all the blame on Viktor when none of you even have evidence. Maybe you did it, and you’re only using us to lessen the suspicion.”

“Our leader would never do that!” Toni protested, but Brave immediately covered his mouth because he knew that the whole thing would only get worse if the lower years decided to join in. They should just let the leaders do all the talking.

“You’re all fools, but Master Joker has a point. Viktor is a possible suspect,” Siren of Crazy 8 added, and soon after, fingers began to point across the bleachers. Even the princes joined in, their voices rising above the already chaotic debate.

Janus watched in silence as the argument heated. Ian prepared to intervene, but Janus no longer stayed put. He slammed a hand down and shouted, “Enough! All of you!”

His voice echoed across the stadium, and everyone was forced to stop talking. “I told you to admit mistakes, not point fingers. Has the House of Kings fallen this far?”

“It wasn’t me,” Viktor said at last, having stayed quiet the entire time.

“That’s bullshit,” Hans snapped.

Viktor’s face tightened, now frustrated at how things have come to be. He took a breath, ran fingers through his hair, and forced himself to speak. “I know you think I did it, but I didn’t. I was in my classroom when I heard the explosion. Even during battles, we never used bombs that loud. Planting bombs would trigger my trauma. My entire clan died that way. I wouldn’t—”

His earnestness forced people to reconsider. Viktor had done terrible things, but accusing him of using the same method that cost his clan their lives felt cruel.

“And among all of you here, I follow J.S. High’s rules like they’re scripture,” Viktor added. “Don’t point fingers at me because you don’t have anyone else to blame.”

“ He’s not lying ,“ Marcus whispered.

The brotherhoods looked away from the king in shame, while Janus sighed in relief. Despite his growing anger, he knew Viktor enough to know that he wouldn’t do such a thing. He was glad the leader spoke up instead of letting the others accuse him.

“Who the fuck did it then?” CJ finally asked, but no one knew the answer.

The blaming game was eventually over, and everyone voluntarily explained their whereabouts before the explosion occurred. But after considering all accounts, they still couldn’t find a single lead.

The meeting ended, and everyone left the stadium with the feeling of hopelessness. They weren’t entirely worried about not finding the culprit. What they were more concerned about was the fact that it wasn’t Viktor.

Because if he hadn’t done it, then someone out there—maybe even crueler than him—definitely had.

|END|

NOTE ( to rereaders ):

If you’re seeing this (

• END - ) instead of this ( |END| ) at the end of the chapters, then it means the new version didn’t load properly. This seems to be a glitch. I highly suggest you remove the book from your library first. Completely delete it before adding it again. Thank you, and happy reading.

44 | Recovering

♜

MAX SLOWLY OPENED HIS eyes, his vision returning to focus. A familiar ceiling stared back at him, and Max realized he was now in his bedroom. He turned to the window, morning light spilling across the glass. He slept the entire day.

“You’re awake,” a voice said. Max turned to see Marcus approaching with eyes rimmed red. He clearly had not slept at all.

“What time is it?” Max asked, his entire body still aching from the aftermath. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Marcus saw him struggle, so he held his back to assist him.

“It’s eight. I requested an absence slip for you, so don’t worry. Rest for now. I’ll get you breakfast,” Marcus answered, looking at Max and patting his head. He turned to the door but stopped to realize that Max had held onto his arm.

“What happened?” his little brother asked.

Marcus didn’t look back. He took a breath and pulled his hand free. “We’ll talk after you eat,” he said, finally leaving the room. 

Once alone, Max massaged his temple before reaching out for his laptop at the side table. He typed “J.S. High” and hit enter. The first thing that popped out was a mention of an explosion. Max’s heart began to beat fast as he finally clicked the article.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/d49684db305495bc7a8587daae7cf1b14b0d703a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f526d702d6957504c7548682d64413d3d2d313036383332383936302e313839663030333966613530326164643837303438363734393236312e706e67)               

Seeing the ruined greenhouse on the screen almost broke Max’s composure. His hands trembled as memories crowded in, but the door suddenly opened, and he snapped the laptop shut.

“I asked the maids to reheat this,” Marcus said, entering the room with Max’s breakfast. A maid followed and placed a breakfast tray across Max’s lap. Afterward, she bowed and left, letting Marcus set the food down. “I know you don’t have much appetite, but eat what you can. You’ll take medicine later.”

Max nodded and ate the rice porridge.

“What happened to Red?” he asked finally.

Marcus inhaled and sat on the bed’s edge. “He’s fine. He’s getting treatment too. Should be back in about a week.”

“Do you know who did it? Was it really a gas leak?” Max pressed.

“So you read the news,” Marcus said, avoiding Max’s eyes. “Uncle wanted to keep it a secret, but the smoke was big enough for the people outside to see. He had to make a statement. But as you can tell, it wasn’t a gas leak. We couldn’t find a suspect either. We initially thought it would be Viktor.”

Max had suspected that the others would blame the king, but something inside him resisted the idea. “Viktor wouldn’t do that,” he said with certainty before taking another spoonful. “I don’t know why, but I have a gut feeling that he wouldn’t.”

“Red felt the same,” Marcus admitted. “Funny that everyone else suspected Viktor, but the two of you…the real victims…didn’t.”

“I just hope Red recovers so we can resume training. I owe him my life. Literally,” Max said, taking a sip of tea.

Marcus stared at him for a long moment. He didn’t know how he’d open it up, but he realized that Max needed to know eventually. So he readied himself, reaching out to grab Max’s free hand. “J.S. High is pulling out of the competition.”

Max nearly dropped his cup. “What did you say?”

“We’ve decided that the safest route is to withdraw and focus on the investigation. We don’t know who’s behind the bombing, but we can’t rule out that it was targeting you. We can’t take chances.” Marcus explained, but Max wasn’t hearing it.

“No. You are not doing that. You can’t just—”

“I’ll arrange the merit points. I’ll ask Hans to give them to you. Forget Mr. Brains and Brawn. There will be other chances,” Marcus said, but Max’s anger cut through the excuse.

“Fuck the points and your crown brooch. Has no one considered that an outsider might’ve done this to make us pull out? What if this is a trap? What if we’re doing exactly what they wanted us to do?” Max snapped, and Marcus’s face went pale. 

No one had pushed that possibility. They were all too focused on the brotherhoods…the sabotage to ruin the dukes. But Max was right. What if that explosion wasn’t a warning, but a scare?

“N-No, this can’t be possible. J.S. High’s security is top-tier. An outsider couldn’t plant bombs unnoticed,” Marcus countered.

“And why would you think it was an outsider?” Max asked, and that single question got Marcus up on his feet.

“I should have woken you yesterday,” Marcus muttered as he walked his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” 

Marcus opened the door without turning. “I’m going to talk to BND. You stay, finish your breakfast, take your medicine, and rest. Understand?” He slammed the door before Max could even answer.

Max sighed and looked around his empty room. With no other choice, he finished his meal and took the medicine as instructed. Once all of Marcus’s demands were accomplished, Max forced himself to get up from the bed. He stumbled a bit but found his footing. A maid carrying dirty curtains bowed when she spotted him at the door.

“Master Leigh, shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked.

“Tell Étienne to ready the car,” Max said instead. “And tell him if he doesn’t, I’ll fire you. Not him.” 

The maid’s eyes widened as she hurried to find the butler without question. Max smirked as he watched her go. He knew that Étienne was too much of a gentleman to let that happen.

“Well then, I think I’m already well rested. Time to go back.” Max said as he returned to his room to wash up.

It didn’t take long for Max to head downstairs, now sporting J.S. High’s infamous white uniform. He adjusted the brooches on his collar and walked out of the mansion to find Étienne waiting outside, the car ready as she instructed the maid.

Max expected his butler to lecture him, but to his surprise, he said nothing and opened the car door for him instead.

Once inside, Étienne drove in silence. Max glanced at him through the rearview mirror, expecting an outburst. Étienne’s jaw was set, and his hands gripped the wheel, but still, he said nothing. Max finally had enough.

“If you’re going to scold me, do it now,” he said.

“Why would I scold you?” Étienne asked without looking away from the road.

“So you’re reverse psychology-ing me now?” Max said in annoyance, but his butler didn’t budge. He continued to drive in silent protest.

Max was someone the young butler cherished dearly. He had been by his side before his master could even learn how to walk. He was always the first to trust Max and his capabilities, but seeing him return home with newer injuries every day had made him grow weary.

When Étienne had collected Max from the clinic, the doctor said Max wouldn’t calm down and had trembled so badly they’d sedated him. Étienne wasn’t even there when the explosion happened, but he couldn’t forgive himself for letting Max be in such a state.

“You should enroll back at Westberg Academy while it’s still early. You’d still be able to catch up,” Étienne finally said.

“And why the hell would I do that?” Max shot back.

“Because it seems I’m the only one who cares about you,” Étienne replied, meeting Max’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

Max immediately turned away. He looked out the window and fidgeted with the buttons of his cuffs. “Even if you beg on your knees, I won’t do that. I won’t return to Westberg,” Max declared. “Ask me anything else. Just not that.”

“Then let’s go back home. You need to rest. Whatever it is you’re planning to do in J.S. High can wait,” Étienne insisted, and Max sighed in frustration.

“Leigh,” Étienne continued, his voice softening, “please, you need to rest.”

Max watched his reflection in the glass and gritted his teeth. “ You’re such a fucking pain ,“ he muttered.

Étienne glanced back at the mirror, and Max finally turned and met his eyes. With a sigh of defeat, he told him, “Let’s go back.”

…

Marcus entered room IV-Kings in the Hall of Janus. The brotherhood fell silent at his arrival. They all expected him to stay home to take care of his brother.

“What are you doing here? How’s your brother?” Hans asked as soon as Marcus approached him.

Instead of answering his leader, Marcus scanned the room and announced, “An outsider planted the bombs. Well, someone from outside hired someone inside J.S. High to do it. I think.”

The room fell silent as everyone stared at the duke. Marcus just barged into the room and talked about a possible bomber as if it were a regular morning topic.

Viktor, who was reading a book, set it aside and looked at Marcus seriously. “So after blaming it all on me, now you blame a nonexistent outsider?”

Hans seethed, ready to retort, but Marcus cut him off. “I know it might sound crazy, but think about it. There hasn’t been an official announcement, but it’s obvious that people are already expecting Max to be the representative the moment he enrolled here. The competitors are afraid that we might actually win this now, and you all know how much those preppy schools hate the brotherhood houses. They won’t let that happen.”

“You’re acting like this is groundbreaking news. Of course we’ve suspected that. But as we keep on telling you, we have no proof,” a Busters member said. “CCTV and guards recorded nothing. We can’t accuse more people without evidence.”

“And besides, how important does your brother think he is? Why on earth would someone risk themselves just because of him?” Kim Hee-joon interjected before yawning in boredom.

“You say that now, but we both know what kind of heir he really is. We’re all very much aware why he was even brought here in the first place,” Krist defended, and Hee-joon’s always expressionless face almost looked irritated.

CJ, who had been quietly listening, smirked from the corner. “Looks like our jester’s gone soft over a serf. Losing really does make you pathetic.”

In most cases, Krist would have retorted. But this time, he didn’t take the bait. With a calm expression, he looked at CJ and said,“ Don’t get cocky, Count. After all, Max is conquering BND now. Who do you think he’ll choose next?“

CJ’s glare answered only with silence. 

Hans spoke next. 

“Max might as well move on to Cigarettes. We’ve already decided to pull out of the competition. It would be stupid for us to go on with it, especially now when there’s a possible outsider whose out there to get us.”

Marcus was about to suggest they continue, but Viktor stood and commanded attention.

“You know what’s more stupid? Everything that you just said,” Viktor mocked. “If Thompson’s right, then pulling out plays into their hands. Whoever did this expects you to do exactly that. You’ll lose more than a base,” Viktor explained, which surprised Marcus since that was the exact thing Max was telling him earlier too.

“So you care about Max winning after all?” Krist asked, almost laughing at the irony.

“I don’t give a damn about Sinclaire,” Viktor immediately clarified, and everyone stared at him with curious eyes, waiting for what he was about to say next.

“It just pisses me off that we let an outsider sabotage our house. They took advantage of our titles, knew we’d suspect each other, and directed the attention to us because brotherhoods blowing up an entire building just makes fucking sense!”

Viktor’s voice got louder.

“It pisses me off that the first thing our house did was let the white uniforms go while they interrogated us. The criminal went home smiling while we pointed fingers. Doesn’t that anger you?!” the king asked, and like a battle cry, everyone began to feel their blood boil.

“Then what do you plan on doing?” Siren, who hadn’t said a word, asked.

Viktor took a breath and faced the members of BND. “Train the serf,” he answered, surprising everyone. 

“The House of Kings seldom fight wars, but heavy are those who wear the crown. Train him and make him win. His victory will be ours to take. His triumph will be our revenge. Their defeat will show why you don’t mess with us. Remind them that once you challenge our house in a battle, the only banner that will fall…will be theirs.”

Terrifying determination flashed in Viktor’s eyes, and the princes, dukes, marquise, counts, and barons were once again reminded…why Viktor was their king.

|END|

45 | The 2nd Option

♜

ÉTIENNE STEPPED OUT OF the car and opened the back door. Some students who were already at the Keep paused to watch Max emerge. His arrival surprised them. After the bombing, everyone had expected him to run or be gone for weeks, but apparently, they still did not understand how unbreakable the boy truly was.

“Have a good day, Master Leigh,” Étienne said with a bow. Max nodded and began walking toward the main building.

After a day of rest, Max returned to school as if nothing had happened. He looked untroubled, though worry sat under the surface. After all, someone might be out to get him, and yet part of him wanted to prove he had everything under control.

“Max!” a familiar voice called out as he neared their classroom.

He turned to see Felix running toward him, breathless. Following behind him were Ari and Ervin, who finally appeared to be on friendlier terms after their constant bickering.

“You were only gone a day, but I missed you so much!” Felix cried, grabbing Max and hugging him tight.

The hallway fell quiet as students stared, but when Ari and Ervin arrived, the onlookers backed away, instantly minding their own business.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” Felix fussed like a worried mother.

Max eased Felix off, smiling at him as he patted his head. “I’m fine. Nothing serious happened, but it’s good to be back.”

“Well, you are a tough one. We knew you’d be back on your feet in no time,” Ervin added, and Max smiled at the remark.

He was about to ask how they’ve been when Felix suddenly nudged Ari’s arm while Ervin tried to look composed. Max stared at them with furrowed brows until Ari cleared his throat and said, “Ervin and I didn’t really want to do this, but Felix wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Max watched as Ari pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it wasn’t actually just a piece of paper but a card. Specifically, a welcome back card.

Ari awkwardly handed the surprise present to him. Max, who was in shock, took the card and opened it.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/3a1ee200acf9bfc82b11f83d01de377ba62b6065/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f377a6559327367356543386147413d3d2d313037303733393634382e313839663636373666633331323830383233383832353133353038312e706e67)               

After reading the messages, Max couldn’t help but laugh. Felix looked happy with the reaction, while the two hotheads crossed their arms, masking the embarrassment with anger.

“What’s so funny?” Ari asked.

Max stopped laughing and looked back at his peculiar yet unexpectedly sweet friends. “You do know I was only gone a day, right?” he teased.

“Told you that was stupid,” Ervin immediately said.

“N-no…I’m genuinely touched. Thank you,” Max answered sincerely. He never had friends give him a card before. Actually, the word “friends” seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he had them when he was young, but now it was all just a blur.

Having people care about him was such a foreign feeling.

“Thank you,” he repeated, staring at the card with a smile on his face. The trio looked at each other, and despite Ari and Ervin initially not being on board with the idea, they found themselves smiling back at Max too.

“Well, now that that’s over, I’m never doing this shit even if Felix threatens us again,” Ari said as he draped an arm over Max.

“Again?” Max asked as the four of them returned to their classroom.

Class II-A watched the quartet enter, except for Gavriil, who would rather read a book than mind other people’s business. Since conquering Jokers, the class had become less hostile toward Max. Maybe the presence of Ari and Ervin affected the ceasefire, but it was also safe to say Max had made a name for himself, even a little.

“Can I borrow your notes from yesterday?” Max asked Ari as they took their seats.

“Sure. I have them on my laptop. I’ll send them later.”

The bell rang, and the class settled. Sir Kai Barron entered with his typically stern expression.

“Everyone, back to your seats. I’ll take attendance,” Sir Barron said, reading names. When he finished, he looked at Max. “Sinclaire, the Dukes are waiting for you in the garden. You’re excused for today.”

Max looked at Ari, expecting an explanation, but Ari could only shrug, clueless about what BND had in store.

With no other choice but to check it himself, Max got up and headed to the garden just beside the greenhouse where the bombing incident occurred.

Since the greenhouse was still being rebuilt, BND had been using the open garden. Max expected the Dukes to tell him they were pulling him from the competition, as Marcus mentioned. So he rehearsed ways to persuade them otherwise as he walked.

However, when he arrived, the members of BND were nowhere to be found. Only their leader, Hans, was there, sitting quietly at a bench.

Hans rose at his approach. “Sinclaire, you’re finally here. I’m sorry about the unusual spot, but—”

“I’m not letting you pull out of the competition,” Max cut in. “We can’t back out now. What about your legacy? Marcus said he’d arrange merit points, but I don’t want them. What’s the point of a higher rank if I can’t conquer you?” He spoke without pause.

Hans blinked. He wanted to say something about Max’s sudden request, but decided to take a deep breath and say instead, “Sit with me, Sinclaire.”

Max was surprised, but did it anyway.

The two of them sat together, aware of the wide distance between them.

“After the bombing, we all assumed it was Viktor,” Hans began, surprising Max because this wasn’t the topic he was expecting the leader to share. 

“As much as I hate Viktor, blaming him was insensitive. I know what he’s capable of and what he wouldn’t do, but I blamed him because I didn’t know who else to blame. I genuinely believed that things would have been better if he were the culprit.”

They stared at the garden; the ruined greenhouse was visible in the distance.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask, but…were you friends? You, Viktor, and Krist?” Max asked without looking at Hans.

Hans wasn’t expecting the question, so he hesitated for a moment. But after thinking about it, he nodded to confirm the speculations. “It might be hard to believe, but the senior brotherhoods were all classmates even before we wore the black uniform. J.S. High was different three years ago. We survived by sticking together. But people change. Friends turn into enemies.”

“Marcus told me not to mention this, but since you’re surprisingly answering my questions, I’ll take my chances,” Max said, turning to the duke. “This man Krist called ‘president’…was he close to you guys, too? Was he one of your classmates?” Max pressed, and Hans’s eyes widened.

“He told you about him?” Hans asked.

Max nodded.

“That fucking jester,” Hans muttered, massaging his forehead. “Your brother was right not to mention it. I won’t entertain that question.” He refused to say more, and Max pouted like a child.

But when Hans saw the unexpected reaction, he chuckled and softened in an instant. He could try to convince others and himself that he doesn’t like Max, but he could never hide the fact that the hatred has always been forced.

“I won’t say more out of respect for…” Hans paused, deciding not to complete the sentence. “That person, he was just different. He could have been a better leader. He embodied what BND represented—the epitome of Boys Next Door.”

“What happened to him?” Max asked.

Hans stopped himself before he got carried away. But he had already crossed a line. It wouldn’t hurt to take just a few more steps forward.

“If he’d led the Dukes, maybe he’d know who did this. Maybe he wouldn’t have let you and Red get hurt,” Hans said instead.

“You don’t know that,” Max argued, trying to encourage him. But Hans couldn’t stop comparing. He clenched his fist in anger, not at the supposed president, but at himself.

“Everything I have now…it wasn’t meant for me originally. I’m wasting opportunities because I’m incapable. Being a duke is just a title. Beyond it…” His voice shook.

It was rare to see Hans vulnerable. Max watched the other brotherhoods from afar, and he could always find Hans amongst the crowd because of the confidence that radiated from him. Having him share those things with Max meant that he trusted the young heir, even if it was only for that moment.

“I’m the fourth of eight siblings. People think I’m favored because I’m heir, but I wasn’t the first choice. My eldest wanted a normal life. The second and third gambled themselves away. I was the decent one next in line, so I became heir. My parents chose me because they had no other option. I’m just a replacement,” Hans confessed, his heart racing. 

He had never told anyone about it before. He never even thought to share those things with someone like Max.

“I apologize. That wasn’t for you to hear,” Hans quickly said.

The wind blew, and for a second, the world seemed to stop.

“So what?” Max asked.

Hans turned to him, brows furrowed.

“So what if you’re not the first option?” Max repeated. “Whether you’re the second option or the fourth, you were still  an option. At the end of it all, you are BND’s leader and your family’s heir because they chose you. That’s what matters,” Max said clearly.

Hans listened as if the words sank in. When their eyes finally met, Max reached and pointed at the crown brooch on his collar. “Where’s yours?” Max asked.

Hans hesitated, then pointed at the crown on his own collar. 

Max nodded and then unbuttoned his coat, surprising Hans. Before the leader could ask him what he was doing, Max pulled his sleeves up to reveal a fleur-de-lis on his left shoulder—a mark of Crème de la Crème.

Max looked Hans in the eye. “Where’s yours?”

Hans swallowed, then unbuttoned and opened his shirt to show the same symbol on his chest.

Max smiled and put on his coat. “Your crown brooch shows you lead BND. That mark shows you are a capable heir. How you came to them doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have them now.”

Hans could not reply. Max’s words settled over him like a firm argument.

“Who cares if you’re a replacement? You did a fucking good job at the roles you think you were forced to play. Everyone can see that…so why can’t you?” Max finished.

Hans’s eyes glimmered. He seemed on the verge of tears but still managed a smile. “I secretly judged Krist for bowing to you so fast, but now I think I understand why,” he said, buttoning his shirt back.

Max laughed and sat straighter, glancing at the damaged greenhouse. “Anyone could’ve said those things, but you always appear perfect, so people don’t know what to say.”

“Should I share my problems with everyone then?” Hans asked sarcastically.

“No,” Max answered. “Just with a trusted few. Perhaps your brotherhood.”

Hans touched BND’s brooch and stood. “This was unexpectedly good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Max.”

“You finally called me Max. Looks like you don’t hate me anymore,” Max teased.

Hans chuckled, waving goodbye as he walked away. But as Max watched him go, his eyes suddenly widened at the realization of what the duke told him.

“T-tomorrow? You just said tomorrow…”

“Your training,” Hans called back. “You still have to win Mr. Brains and Brawn after all.”

Max stood a moment, dumbfounded. But after a beat, he laughed. He looked at the greenhouse and recalled the explosion. During that time, all he could feel was fear. Now, every time he gazed at the base, he could only feel determination.

Like Hans, Max felt unworthy to represent J.S. High. There were hundreds more capable, but he was chosen. With the opportunity given to him, he would do his best to win. For BND’s legacy, Jokers’ pride, and the House of Kings’ glory. 

All of that…is his for the taking.

|END|

46 | Greetings

♜

MAX WAS ON HIS WAY back to Class II-A’s room with a small smile on his face. The fact that J.S. High was still going to participate in Mr. Brains & Brawn made Max overly excited. Of course, he was still worried about a possible outsider out to get him, but for now, all he could think about was winning the competition.

As Max walked down the empty hall, he looked up and spotted a student coming the other way.

The heir was surprised to see the Elites’ vice president, Gavriil, carrying a large pile of papers. Max meant to walk past, but when he got close, he instinctively stopped and asked, “Do you need help?”

Gavriil halted but said nothing. His long hair fell over one eye. Without asking, Max leaned forward and tucked the hair behind Gavriil’s ear, revealing the mole at the side of his eye. “Do you?” Max asked again.

Gavriil remained expressionless. He did not react to the touch, but he opened his mouth and answered, “I’m heading to the Elites’ office. It’s a long walk. Would you mind?”

Max did not answer with words. He took half the stack of papers Gavriil held and said, “Lead the way then, Mr. Vice President.”

Gavriil nodded and started walking. The two fell into an awkward silence.

They had never really talked since Max’s ill-fated request for mentorship. Gavriil’s polite rejection had made Max avoid him, mostly out of embarrassment. That distance had left little room for conversation.

“Oh, I haven’t thanked you yet,” Max said after a moment, recalling something.

Gavriil glanced at him, curious why Max would be grateful.

“During my battle with Master Joker, you posted that white uniforms who were going to the stadium would be suspended. If it weren’t for that, my plan would have gone differently,” Max said. Gavriil looked surprised for a second. He had assumed Max would thank him for watching over him at the clinic, not for the announcement.

Looks like the serf didn’t know that other instance.

“Your gratitude is wasted. I did it because the Dukes asked me to. Not for you,” Gavriil replied flatly, and Max chuckled as a response.

“A ’ you’re welcome ’ would have been easier,” Max teased. “Why do you hate me? Hans hated me too, but somehow I’m more curious about your reason.”

Silence settled again. Max wasn’t expecting a reply, but the vice president surprised him.

“I didn’t say I hate you, or anyone in particular. I have no reason to hate a white uniform. I’m the vice president, after all.” Gavriil answered like he was in a press conference.

Max wanted something real—something less practiced. But Gavriil cut in before he could press him further.

“We’re here.”

Max looked up at the large door marked Elites . Gavriil pushed it open and headed inside. Max hesitated, a bit intimidated by the atmosphere, but followed anyway.

The office was as Max expected. There was a long table on the right side of the room, a large screen at the front, five desks, bookshelves, a large sofa, and papers and files scattered everywhere. It was functional chaos.

“Whoa,” Max mumbled as he stepped in.

“Sinclaire!” someone called. A student appeared behind a desk—Justin Griffiths, the School Representative. Max didn’t mistake him for the other twin because of the bright smile on his face. His twin brother, Dustin, would have to be held at gunpoint before he could show a bit of teeth.

“Heard you’re the representative for Mr. Brains and Brawn. Congratulations!” Justin rushed over, making Max back up.

“T-Thank you?”

Gavriil cleared a space on his desk and took the files Max had carried. He glared at Justin, who kept on leaning close to the serf with curious eyes, and looked back at Max and said, “That’s all for you. You may go back to the classroom. Thank you.”

Justin rushed back to his desk with a pout while Max continued to look around the room, ignoring what the vice president had said.

“I knew you were busy, but it looks worse than I expected. Except for the president, I guess.” Max said, nodding to the desk that was clear of documents and clutter.

Gavriil followed Max’s gaze. “The paperwork is usually finalized by others so Ian can sign. His role is more hands-on. He does the discipline. Brotherhood oversight. That’s harder than sitting with documents.”

“Fair point,” Max said.

Gavriil arranged papers and then surprised Max with a question. “So…do you still want to be a member of the Elites?”

“Of course,” Max answered without hesitation. Gavriil’s usual blank expression softened. For the first time, a small smile escaped.

Max waited for the vice president to make fun of him, but when he said nothing, Max walked closer. “You might remember I asked during the first week if you’d help me join the Elites. You said you’d consider it if I didn’t have dirt on my cap. Well, it’s clean, so will you consider it now?”

Gavriil remembered the bold, public request. No other white uniform had done such a thing before. He almost said yes then because of how amused he was. Simply remembering it almost made him chuckle. 

“Acquire two more crown brooches, and I’ll give you what you want,” Gavriil said. It could have been a way for Max to leave him be, but the young heir took it as a promise.

“’ Want ’ is a broad word, Mr. Alexeev. You have to be more specific than that,” Max said, but Gavriil went back to his work, deciding that he would no longer humor him.

Max sighed and was forced to bow to him and Justin. He turned to leave, but caught a glimpse of a calendar while on his way to the exit. Max realized that today was September 13. On impulse, he looked back at the vice president and said, “Oh, happy birthday, by the way.”

Gavriil, who was now reading documents, froze at Max’s greeting. Even Justin, who had been eavesdropping, looked at the heir with shock.

“What did you just say?” Gavriil asked, blinking in surprise.

Max didn’t understand why they looked confused until he realized what he had just said. His cheeks turned red in embarrassment. He did not know why he’d said it. He didn’t even know Gavriil’s birthday.

“S-sorry. Just…pretend I didn’t say anything,” Max stammered and hurried out to save face.

The Elites’ office sat in stunned silence as Gavriil scanned the calendar again, baffled. 

“ How did he know ?“ Justin whispered.

The vice president tried to think of a rational explanation. “Someone must have told him, and he unconsciously remembered. Yeah, that’s probably it. It has to be,” Gavriil said aloud as if convincing himself that that was the absolute truth.

…

The Great Hall was rowdy as always, but the noisiest table below the balconies belonged to Max’s group now, thanks to the sixth-highest-ranked brotherhood, Jokers, who claimed the loudest corner.

“Give it back, Toni!” Rome whined like a kid, hopping on his chair to reach for a game console that Toni held high.

The white uniforms at the surrounding tables secretly cursed at them, but no one dared say a thing out loud.

Toni laughed and played villain. Rome tried to jump but accidentally knocked over a glass of strawberry shake. No one reacted. The barons continued eating their lunch like that was a normal occurrence. Even Ari, Felix, and Ervin, who had been eating lunch with Jokers even when Max was absent, were used to it by now.

“Why did I think it was his birthday? What the hell was that about?” Max muttered, staring at his plate with a frown.

Krist, sipping juice, nudged Max. “You okay?”

Max took a deep breath and asked back, “When’s the vice president’s birthday?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I barely even remember Brave’s birthday. Why? Planning a present to get on his good side?” Krist teased.

“Forget about it,” Max said with a sigh, finishing his lunch.

Krist stared at Max for a while before changing the subject. “Heard you’re starting your training tomorrow. If you ask me, I’d rather you not participate. But Viktor wanted you to push through with it, and when a king wants something to happen, it’s going to fucking happen.

Max almost dropped his spoon. “Did you just say Viktor?”

Krist squeezed his juice box, finishing it in one go. “We were surprised, but he had a point. Pulling out costs more than it gains, and that’s not what the House of Kings does,” Krist said, which was strange because it was rare for him to agree with Viktor on anything.

“Doesn’t that add more pressure on me?” Max asked, and Krist almost laughed.

“I don’t think so. You’re Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, after all. Pressure won’t break you. I know that for a fact,” Krist said with a wink. Max pretended to gag, and both of them burst out in laughter.

Ari, who was listening to their conversation, got in between the two and asked, “By the way, where will they train you? The base isn’t repaired yet. You think they’ll do it at the garden?”

“Probably,” Brave replied, and the image of garden drills made Max uneasy.

“As much as I’m excited about the training, I don’t want to train where everyone can watch. I don’t want to embarrass myself. You saw my battle with Krist. I’m not that good with combat. I barely won that thing if Krist didn’t double down,” Max admitted.

Brave snorted. Krist scanned the balcony and then suggested, “Why not our base? The rooftop’s big enough.”

As soon as Krist suggested their base, all the members of the Jokers stopped whatever they were doing to look at their leader with disbelief.

“What?!” The jesters shouted in unison, startling even the other white uniforms.

“No, we can’t let BND set foot in our base. We won’t let those fake, good-for-nothing dukes defile our holy ground,” Dhanin objected, and others nodded fiercely. Hans would not have liked it if he had heard what he just said.

While the barons argued with Master Joker, Max raised a hand. “Hey, you don’t have to do that. The rooftop is your base. Of course your members would hate the idea. I only said training in the garden would be hard for me. I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

“See, even Max gets it,” Brave said.

Krist wanted to defend his somewhat selfish suggestion, but unbeknownst to him, the dukes heard their conversation all the way from the balcony. The Jesters definitely underestimated how loud their voices were.

“I’m sorry, but these fake, good-for-nothing dukes would rather train in the pool than train in your filthy base,” Hans, who was now leaning against the balustrade with Arjun, stated.

The Great Hall fell silent. 

Krist and Hans stared like generals about to declare war. But before things could get heated, the bell rang, ending the tension.

Hans and Arjun exchanged one last look with Krist and turned away. Jokers and Max’s friends expected Krist to be furious, but instead, the baron grinned from ear to ear, finding the entire situation amusing.

The true Master Joker had returned. And Max could tell he had a lot of surprises up his sleeve.

“Filthy base, you say? Let’s see about that,” Krist said, his laughing echoing in the stadium, just like music that played once Jack pops out of the box.

|END|

47 | Picking Roses

♜

THE NEXT DAY, THE rooftop was so quiet you could hear birds chirp from a distance. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t even empty. Fifteen people stood in formation, perfectly still.

“Are we seriously going to stand here all day?” Max finally asked, glancing between the two groups in front of him. Ari, BND’s Rose, and Ervin, Jokers’ Jack, stood on both of his sides. Felix, who wasn’t happy that he was left out, was forced to stay in class.

Krist lounged on the balustrade with that permanent smirk. “What’s with the long face, duke? You should at least be thanking us for our generosity,” he teased.

Hans cursed under his breath, glaring. “I’m gonna fucking kill this clown someday. I swear it.”

Just moments before Max’s training began, the garden where BND was supposed to train was inconveniently engulfed with such a foul smell that BND was forced to change location. Even the pool area, which they joked about training in, shared the same fate.

Thankfully, with perfect  timing, Krist was at the scene of the crime and offered his brotherhood base again. Hans could no longer refuse this time around. The cleaners couldn’t find the source of the smell, so Hans swallowed his pride and took the offer.

Against his will , as Hans insisted.

“Okay, enough of this staring contest,” Marcus said, stepping forward. “I know the situation at the garden was…” he paused and gave Jokers a look. “unexpected…but Mr. Brains & Brawn is already on October 6. We still haven’t trained Max. As the people who chose him to represent our house, we owe him proper training.”

Hans, despite the initial opposition, took a deep breath and approached Krist. Krist stared at the duke, and to everyone’s surprise, Hans touched his chest and bowed to him.

“Thank you for letting us use your base to train Max,” he said, and Krist grinned so much that the side of his lips almost ripped.

“That’s the only thing I needed to hear,” Master Joker said, satisfied with the submission. “Do whatever you want, just don’t break our little toy,” he said before heading back to his bench so he could play with his phone.

“Good luck, Max!” Rome called, already heading to shoot hoops. Even Ervin followed.

BND stood in a straight line. Red was still recovering from the explosion, but the Dukes had come prepared. As they promised their brother, they’ll train Max until he’s at least as good as their Roses.

“We apologize for the delay. I know you’re itching to get started, but we’ll have to assess you first. We need to know how good you are. As what was discussed at our first meeting, our fifteen Roses will be the ones doing just that,” Hans said, gesturing at Ari.

“And how is that going to play out?” Max asked.

Instead of a verbal answer, two BND members moved up to Ari and stuck black X-shaped stickers on his chest, back, left hand, and right leg.

“Those are targets,” Hans explained. “You have thirty minutes to hunt all of our Roses. They’ll be scattered around J.S. High, so we expect you to track them all down to win. When spotted, you have the chance to shoot them on any of the four targets attached to their bodies. Hit one, and you’ve successfully picked  that Rose. Easy.”

“Easy? You’re only giving me thirty minutes to hunt down not one but fifteen trained white uniforms,” Max said, hating the fact that it sounded like he was complaining.

Hans and the rest of the dukes looked at each other before turning to Max, excited smiles painted on their faces. Max could already tell that there was still more to the supposedly easy task.

“Don’t tell me—”

Marcus and Khian approached Max. And like what the others did to Ari, the two placed the same targets on Max as well. Max almost laughed as he stared at the X-marks.

“Just like you, the Roses are also tasked to hunt you down. But since there are fifteen of them against one, they have to shoot all of your targets for them to win,” Hans explained further.

“Basically, I have four lives,” Max said, touching the sticker on his arm.

Arjun handed Max a strange-looking gun. “This will be your weapon. It’s a paint gun, but it can sting like a pellet gun. Don’t underestimate it.”

“You’re asking me to get shot by fifteen people.” 

“Your PE uniform is designed to be as durable as your white uniform. It’s almost bulletproof. Try not to think about it too much,” Marcus said with a reassuring smile, ignoring the fact that the PE uniform did not cover the entire arm where the other target was placed.

“Alright, so fifteen targets, huh?” Max said, staring at the gun and examining its mechanism. 

The dukes nodded and waited for Max to get used to the weapon when, all of a sudden, Max pointed the gun at Ari’s chest and pulled the trigger.

Everyone at the rooftop gasped as Ari stumbled back, clenching his chest as red paint soaked his shirt.

“Looks like I’m down to fourteen.”

“Y-You son of a bitch—” Ari cursed, his chest stinging at the impact. 

“That’s my boy,” Krist muttered as he watched Max from a distance.

Max approached Ari and patted his back while the wounded Rose continued to groan in pain. He then turned to the dukes and asked them, “So, shall I begin?”

As soon as Hans gave him the signal, Max sprinted out of the rooftop to start his assessment, leaving BND and Jokers behind.

“Time him,” Hans instructed, and Khian clicked a stopwatch. Thirty minutes started ticking.

Ari, who finally recovered from the surprise attack, looked at the members of BND and told them, “You do know Max won’t be able to finish his task, right? I believe even a member of a brotherhood would find this difficult.”

The other members of BND casually spread out, joining the jesters while they waited for Max’s assessment to be completed. 

“When we designed this assessment, the thought of it being completed wasn’t in the plans.  We only needed to see how Max would perform in such heavy conditions. It doesn’t matter if he succeeds or not.” Arjun explained. Ari nodded, finally understanding what the real goal was.

“I know this was designed to be impossible to complete, but I can’t help but be biased,” Marcus interjected. “I have a feeling he’d do a great job and leave us completely speechless.”

Hans smirked and crossed his arms, staring at the campus with great expectations.

“Let’s see about that.”

…

The Hall of Terra was quiet since all the juniors were in class. Max walked the empty hall, his eyes scanning the area. He had to keep his guard up to maximum. Even the slightest movement and sound made him flinch.

Earlier, he didn’t shoot Ari just to put him down. He was observing him. And based on Rose’s reaction, he could tell that the impact was something he couldn’t just shake off once hit.

Max needed to keep two of his own targets extra safe. One was the target on his leg, and the other was his left arm. If his leg gets shot first, it might be difficult for him to run. And if his arm gets targeted, it would be a huge disadvantage to his aim since he’s left-handed.

“I forgot to ask how many rounds this thing has,” Max said, scanning the gun. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the gun didn’t hold any bullets. Instead, there was a container that stored red liquid. The exact amount would be difficult to get right, but Max could only assume that it wasn’t much.

“I should be care—”

Just then, someone hit the target on Max’s back, causing him to stumble forward from the impact.

Max stiffened as the pain spread across his upper body. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn, pointing his gun at the Rose that appeared behind him. The first shot was sloppy. It barely hit his leg. But Max inhaled, fixed his aim, and pulled the trigger for the second time.

Red paint spread across the underling’s chest, and he instantly dropped his weapon and lifted both his arms to surrender.

“Two down,” Max said, checking his watch. 

He tried to catch his breath, but two more Roses appeared down the hallway and began shooting at him. Max ran to the lockers and took cover, red spreading to the walls and floor like a massacre.

Max got ready to shoot back when he realized that the ambush had stopped. He stuck his head out and found the Roses almost fanning their guns.

“ It overheats, “ he whispered, gripping his own gun and revealing himself. While the two waited for their guns to reload, Max wasted no time and pulled the trigger, perfectly shooting the other’s chest target.

“Three…”

And then another.

“Four…”

As the two Roses dropped their weapons, Max made his escape, afraid that other Roses would begin to appear. But when he arrived at the Keep, three more Roses welcomed him there.

Paint began to shower over him, and among those fires caught Max’s leg target. 

Max dropped to his knees as the pain made it impossible to stand. He cursed as the shooters closed the distance. With the amount of paint they released, their guns were probably overheating, too. It gave him enough time to come up with a plan.

He scanned the area and spotted a fire extinguisher about two meters away from him. Without hesitation, he aimed at the hose and pulled the trigger. The pressure was enough for the nozzle to get detached.

Powder hissed out, filling the space with blinding smoke. Max forced himself to stand, hiding behind a pillar. He closed his eyes and listened as the footsteps grew closer.

The smoke covered Max, but it covered the other Roses as well. Max could only rely on his senses and his instincts.

Max focused. Someone stepped on a puddle of paint, and that slight sound was enough for Max to point his gun in that direction. He was confident as he pulled the trigger, but the sound of metal only confirmed that he hit a locker instead.

He scanned the area again. He noticed that the spot where he heard the Roses was a dead end. Anyone who heard the direction of the shot would run to the opposite side.

“ Come on… “ Max began to shoot again, and this time, he heard someone groan in pain.

The Rose fell to the ground, his swift movement causing the smoke to disperse. Max caught a glimpse of the other two, though he could only see their heads. Fortunately, it wasn’t a problem. Max adjusted his aim and measured the distance between the head and chest.

When he got the estimate, he shot twice.

The smoke finally cleared, and three Roses were found on the floor, their hands up in surrender.

Max released a breath and smirked. “Seven down, eight more to go.”

[Back at the Rooftop , Jokers’ Base]

“Time’s up,” Khian announced, stopping the watch and pulling out a walkie-talkie. “I’ll notify the Roses.”

BND were enjoying their leisure time when they heard Khian. Marcus, who was playing cards with Rome and Toni, stood from the floor and joined the rest of his brotherhood.

“I’ll bet a thousand dollars that he failed. Miserably,” Leo Underwood—a former Rose and member of Alpha Society—said as he and the rest of the dukes waited near the entrance of the rooftop.

“I’ll bet on his loss too,” Kim Hansol added, making Marcus glare at them.

While waiting, Krist overheard the bet and decided to join them. “I bet ten thousand dollars that he’ll be able to target all fifteen.”

Jokers, who were busy playing around, stopped what they were doing to look at their leader. Even Ervin stared at the baron like he was crazy.

“M-Master Joker, you’re not planning to use our brotherhood funds for that bet, right?” Dhanin asked, worried their leader would involve himself on something that all of them would regret later.

Krist, looking confident, only crossed his arms. “I gave my crown brooch to a boy named Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. You think I’ll just give it away to someone who would give up easily?” Krist said, and the jesters looked at each other, suddenly convinced that maybe their master joker was right.

“I wanna support you, but you do know my brother’s not the best shooter, remember?” Marcus asked. He knew Max would do great, but even he found it hard to believe that his little brother could shoot fifteen of their Roses in only a span of 30 minutes.

“Maybe,” Ari agreed, joining the conversation. “But he is clever,” he added, and the brotherhoods turned their heads to him.

“Max knows how to make a plan on the spot. He doesn’t hesitate either. If he wants something, he does it. He might not be much of a shooter like you all claim, but I know he’ll maximize the use of his gun to his advantage. You all just have to wait and see,” Ari said with such certainty that Leo and Hansol almost looked worried.

“You really do know him now, huh?” Marcuas said, quite impressed by how Ari had evolved from being Max’s babysitter to actually being a friend who understood him.

“Don’t be too shocked. Those two are practically a married couple,” Ervin explained, and everyone just nodded like it made perfect sense.

Ari wanted to defend himself, but the door swung open.

The jesters ran to stand beside the dukes. They watched as Max made his way to the rooftop, looking like a complete mess.

Max approached the brotherhoods, his chest rising and falling with every step. He was holding his gun with his left hand, and someone’s peaked cap with the other. There was also red paint splattered on his face. If they didn’t know better, they’d assume it was blood.

No one moved. Marcus was the first to run to his brother’s side, immediately checking the targets.

“Chest target confirmed,” Marcus announced after spotting the red paint on the X-mark. 

“Arm target confirmed,” Marcus continued, and the members of Jokers began shivering in anticipation.

“Leg target confirmed.”

One last target. Everyone held their breath. Marcus turned Max around, and the look on his face was enough for Leo and Hansol to start cheering, while the barons began to weep as if someone had just died.

“Back target,” Marcus said with a sigh. “Confirmed.”

Amidst the mixed reaction, Hans stepped forward and stared at Max. He was expecting Max to fail, yet he still felt disappointed somehow.

“Max Sinclaire, you’ve officially ended your assessment,” Hans declared. “This was an impossible task. It was designed that way because the whole purpose was to see how you’d perform.”

“We were permitted to get the CCTV footage. We’ll watch them, and each member will give you their assessment. Through that assessment, we’ll make the perfect training program that would focus on both your strengths and weaknesses,” Arjun explained next.

Max sighed heavily, obviously upset. When Hans saw his reaction, he reached out to him and patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you did your best. Regardless of the results, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Max said, and Hans and Arjun rejoined the other duke to discuss what to do next.

Krist, who hadn’t said anything, approached Max and handed him a bottle of water. Ari and Ervin also appeared beside him, checking if their friend got hurt anywhere.

“Looks like you lost the bet!” Leo rubbed salt on the wound, grinning at the baron. “We’ll be patiently waiting for you to transfer the ten thousand in our brotherhood account, Master Joker.”

“You’ll what?” Max asked, looking at Krist with shock.

Krist awkwardly avoided Max’s gaze, scratching the back of his head and pretending he didn’t hear anything. Ervin tried to rescue him by telling Max that Leo said a thousand dollars, not ten thousand. But Max wasn’t deaf. He heard the duke perfectly.

“You bet ten thousand dollars on me? I’m touched, but…are you crazy? There were fifteen of them. Of course I’d get shot with only four marks on me.”

“Well, I thought you’d be able to hold them off and target all fifteen of them. But I guess I overestimated you,” Krist explained. Max was about to argue with the baron when he suddenly realized what he had just said.

“W-Wait, you didn’t bet on my loss? You bet on whether or not I was able to target all fifteen?”

Before Krist could say anything, Khian suddenly called for everyone’s attention. He was holding his walkie-talkie, looking at Max like the serf was some kind of monster.

“What’s wrong?” Hans asked, approaching him.

Khian, who had just finished hearing the reports of their Roses, looked at their leader with disbelief. “H-He did it.”

Everyone turned their heads, confused.

“Did what?” Hans asked with furrowed brows.

Khian looked back at Max, and then a wide smile appeared on his face. “He successfully targeted them. All fifteen.”

The rooftop fell into silence. Everyone was too stunned to speak, especially Leo and Hansol. The rest of the members of Jokers and BND looked at the serf, demanding an explanation.

Max, who assumed everyone already knew what happened, recalled the final moments of his assessment.

“There were only fifteen minutes on the clock, and there were still five Roses unmarked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to target them one by one with the time I had left, so I went to Omega Society’s clubroom and grabbed two buckets of red paint from our previous club presentation.

I dumped the paint in the tank connected to the garden and loured the remaining Roses there. I knew they’d follow me because they didn’t have enough time either. When they arrived, I turned the sprinklers on, and everyone panicked because they thought they were getting shot. 

Amidst the chaos, I used the opportunity to take them down one at a time. But when I pulled the trigger on the last Rose, he ended up shooting me first. That’s how I lost,“ Max shared.

His bizarre story only made the black uniforms even more speechless.

“You’re telling us you did all that…under fifteen minutes? On your own?” Hansol asked, refusing to believe that Max was able to pull that off.

Max grinned and wiped the paint off his cheek. “I mean, you didn’t technically say I wasn’t allowed to ask for help.”

Right on cue, the door opened again. A white uniform entered with his hands and sleeves covered in red paint. With a bright smile on his face, he waved at the brotherhoods and said, “Mind if I join you guys?”

“Felix?!” Ari and Ervin called out in unison.

Max smiled at Felix and handed him the peaked cap that he brought with him. “Felix kinda handled the sprinklers,” he revealed, and BND didn’t know whether to be mad or impressed.

“I mean, I still planned everything. I just thought forming alliances was just as important, especially in Battle Royale,” Max explained further.

He waited for a reaction, but no one said anything. They still couldn’t believe that Max somehow pulled it off despite the outcome. 

“Hello? Are you all—”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Krist cut into the silence, grabbing Max and messing his hair while the rest of the jesters swarmed, hugging the first white uniform to have ever truly believed in them. 

“Master Joker was so right about you! Your cunning trait definitely represents our brotherhood!” Rome exclaimed while getting squished by the other barons who were hugging Max too.

Max tried to laugh it off, but he was genuinely happy with Jokers’ reaction. These were his first protectors. He wanted to prove himself to them most of all. It didn’t even matter if other brotherhoods were disappointed in him. He just had to make sure they weren’t.

“Alright, enough. Let go of my little brother,” Marcus said as he pulled Max away from the jesters.

Krist then approached Leo and Hansol with an annoying smile. “Gentlemen, the thousand dollars please.”

“Hey! Max technically still lost! That means we won the bet,” Leo defended.

“Well, I bet on Max targeting all your Roses so technically I won that bet too,” Krist argued.

“Sinclaire,” Hans called out amidst the chaos. Max excused himself from the celebration as the leader pulled him to the corner, where no one else could hear them.

Hans stared at Max, something the young heir realized was a habit they both shared. After a couple more seconds, Hans extended his arm and flicked Max’s forehead, surprising the serf.

“Why did you—”

“It should have been common sense to know that you’re supposed to do the task alone. Asking others for help shouldn’t count,” Hans scolded while Max rubbed his forehead. But as Max thought of a way to defend himself, the serious look on Hans’s face turned to a smile.

Max looked at him and realized that the smile Hans usually shows others when he’s representing BND might not be as fake as he thought it would be.

“Common sense will save you, but having the ability to think outside the box will secure your victory,” Hans said, reaching out to Max again.

Max prepared for another flick on the forehead, but to his surprise, Hans touched his empty collar instead, staring at it with a smile like he was imagining something.

“Congratulations, Max,” Hans said, his voice softer. “Your training officially begins now.”

|END|

NOTE:  

Currencies here might confuse you. Some use dollars ($) while others use pounds (£). The reason for this is that J.S. High is considered an international school, so students mostly use the world’s international currency, which is dollars. Though they can still use pounds if they have them.

48 | Only Temporary

♜

MAX STOOD IN THE middle of the rooftop, his white PE uniform streaked with dirt as if he had wrestled through mud. The wind blew away the hair off his face. He breathed it in and tightened his grip on the paint gun.

Leo from BND stepped in front of him. “Ready?”

Max inhaled again and answered, “I am,  but are you guys going to stand here all day, or are we going to do this?” He looked at the two brotherhoods arrayed around him.

BND, Jokers, and four other Roses formed a loose circle, leaving a few meters between the ring of men and Max at its center. 

Krist, who was already covered in sweat, glanced at Hans. He watched as the duke stretched his arms and cranked his knuckles before undoing a couple of buttons on his polo. Krist somehow got annoyed and decided to undo all the buttons of his shirt too, exposing his upper body. The Jokers howled in approval.

“Is that really necessary?” Marcus asked.

“Definitely,” Krist said, folding his sleeves up with theatrical flair.

Max had been training for weeks. Eight hours a day, mostly with BND but sometimes sparring against Roses and even Jokers. Today was his last evaluation. 

When it was announced that he was J.S. High’s contestant for Mr. Brains & Brawn, things had turned everything up a notch. Reporters and cameras added pressure on the dukes, but Max had answered them by pushing himself even harder.

Ari approached, cloth in hand. He tied it over Max’s eyes. The Roses pinned targets on the participants’ chests. Ari stepped back to stand with Ervin and Felix for support.

“For the final evaluation,” Arjun said into the silence, “we’ll play a game of tag. Don’t worry, we’ll handicap the members. Your level isn’t entirely at par with the brotherhoods, so they’ll go easy on you a little.”

Max nodded, his finger already on the trigger.

“We’ll begin in five…four…three…two…” Arjun whistled, and the rooftop erupted. All twelve men charged.

Max narrowed his focus to sounds. He listened to the clink of chains, the drag of boots, and the heavy breaths. He fired at every movement he heard in terrifying precision. Ari, Ervin, and Felix watched with mouths half-open.

Hans and Krist pushed forward and hovered inches away from Max. If they’re able to touch him without getting shot, they’ll win.

Unfortunately, Max was able to recognize Hans’ perfume. When he felt his body heat near him, Max quickly ducked down and swung his leg. Hans lost his balance and landed on his back. Without a second thought, Max estimated the distance of the fall and pulled the trigger.

Krist gritted his teeth and got ready to tackle the blindfolded serf from behind. Max expected the move and immediately turned. He threw a practiced punch to the ribs, and red paint and dust flew. 

Arjun’s whistle blew, and Max ripped his blindfold off. He rubbed at the sudden brightness as Arjun checked off targets with a notebook.

While waiting, Max’s friends ran to his side in excitement. Felix couldn’t contain himself. “You were super cool, Max! Compared to your first assessment, you got a lot faster and more accurate. It was amazing to watch!”

Max wiped the sweat on his chin and looked around the rooftop. There wasn’t a lot of scattered paint, which was a good thing. It only meant that most of his shots hit a target.

“Max,” Arjun called out, walking up to Max with the final results. “You nailed six targets accurately. You hit four others. However, you missed their marks.”

“You almost hit my eye, Max! It hurt like crazy!” Brave complained with paint on his face.

Max awkwardly scratched the back of his head and mouthed, “ Sorry .“

“For the other two,” Arjun continued. “You completely missed them.”

“Let me guess…Krist and Hans again?” Max said, half-expecting the usual.

Arjun laughed and surprisingly shook his head. “Nope. This time you actually got them.”

Max’s eyes widened in disbelief. Arjun closed his notebook and gave him a satisfied smile. “You just set a new record. We have never trained anyone who has improved as much as you did. Congratulations.”

The Jokers erupted in cheers after hearing the results. Max found himself laughing too—relief, adrenaline, and pride turned into a delightful sound. It wasn’t madness. It was gratitude. The training had finally paid off.

“Looks like we lost, Master Joker,” Hans groaned, stood, and saw Krist doubled over, holding his ribs. He chuckled and unexpectedly offered a hand. Krist took it reluctantly, and Hans pulled him up.

The two leaders looked at each other, almost fondly.

“Looks like you turned my little toy into a monster,” Krist said.

“Oh please, we were going easy on him. Besides, he wouldn’t even be allowed to get a gun permit with such lousy aim,” Hans managed to joke, making Krist laugh.

The two then turned to Max, looking at him with newfound admiration. “That boy’s going to be a force to be reckoned with,” Krist said once steady. “If Viktor doesn’t keep himself in check, Max will be a problem.”

“Viktor’s not stupid enough to make an enemy of him. He knows that.”

“But Max doesn’t,” Krist claimed. “Until Viktor makes his intentions clear, Max won’t go easy on him. They will definitely clash as soon as Max reaches his throne. Remember what our old president said. Those two weren’t supposed to meet.”

 Hans sighed while massaging his temple. “But they did, and things have been fucked up ever since.”

“I guess they’re fated, whether they like it or not.”

“Fated, huh?” Hans looked at Max for one last time. “Maybe you’re right. After all, Max and Viktor are the only people capable of destroying and fixing the system. Our old president tried it before…and you know damn well what happened after that.”

…

“I heard Secretary Richard Young only scored five on his final evaluation with BND. See, even a regular white uniform can beat an Elite. Serves him right,” Ari said with a grin, acting as if Max’s achievements were his too.

As soon as the evaluation ended, the four peculiar friends headed to the locker room so Max could shower and change. Thankfully, this time, there weren’t any notes or kidnappers waiting for him like before.

“Why do you always pick on your own underlings? Shouldn’t you respect that you’re under the same banner?” Ervin asked since he had never degraded a fellow Jack, even during the time that most of them were assholes.

“Don’t be fooled,” Max said, drying his hair. “Ari doesn’t hate the Roses. He hates the Elites. Haven’t you noticed the number of times he and the vice president had clashed?”

Felix, lounging on the benches, looked at his friends and bluntly said, “He’s just jealous that he can’t reach the same number of points those pretty boys have.”

“J-jealous? Me?” Ari approached Felix, ready to defend himself, but Max, who already secured his peaked cap in place, grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Speaking of Elites, there’s actually something that I want to discuss with you regarding that,” Max said.

Ari froze. Felix and Ervin tilted their heads. “Is it about you wanting to be the Elites’ president?” Ervin guessed.

“No,” Max answered. “I’ve been contemplating recently, and I realized that if I want to be a member of the Elites, I need someone whom I can trust. And I thought, if you hate the vice president so much, why not replace him?”

“What?”

The room froze, and Ari, Felix, and Ervin stared at their friend, trying to figure out if they had heard him wrong. 

Ari got ready to voice his opinion when someone knocked on the door, cutting their conversation short. 

The four of them turned their heads as the door opened. Redford Monsour, a member of BND who helped Max during the explosion, entered the room and said, “Can I talk to Max for a bit?”

Ari, Ervin, and Felix looked at each other before turning to Max. Max nodded his head, reassuring them he’d be okay. The three said nothing else and made their way outside, leaving Max alone with Red.

“How may I help you, duke?” Max asked as soon as the door closed.

“You’re calling your savior ‘duke’ now? I’m a bit hurt,” Red teased.

“What should I call you then?”

Red smiled, leaning against a locker with his arms crossed. “I told you, Red is fine. I mean, you didn’t have a problem calling me that last time.”

The two stared at each other, and the room got quiet. Red had been hospitalized for two weeks after the incident. They found out he had a couple of fractures, so he had to be confined. When he got back, he was forbidden to join Max’s training. He and Max hadn’t been able to talk properly since.

“I’m sorry,” Max finally said, breaking the silence.

Red sighed. He expected the response.

“Never thought I’d hear an apology from you for such a stupid reason. “

“I wasn’t able to visit you when you were at the hospital. I didn’t even have the guts to face you when you came back. I was just…I was scared that—”

“Hey,” Red cut in. “You should stop worrying about me. I didn’t gamble or risk my life just because I wanted to be a hero. I’m a duke. You’re a student of our house. It is our duty to protect you. If I got hurt, then it’s on me. You do not have to apologize for that.”

Max unconsciously touched the brooches on his collar. He looked at Red and was once again reminded of why they’re the third-highest-ranked brotherhood. It was foolish of him to worry. He should never have underestimated him.

“Then allow me to at least say this,” Max said, touching his chest. Red watched as the young heir bowed, an act that surprised the duke because Max had never bowed like that to anyone besides the Jokers.

“Why did you—”

“Thank you, Redford Monsour. Whether it was your sense of duty or just your moral compass, you saved my life. You made sure I was safe, even when you were badly injured yourself. I cannot offer you anything here for what I am now, so outside the walls of our house, I offer you my influence. Ask for anything, and I will scour the earth to make it happen.”

Red couldn’t find the words to say next. He had not expected such sincerity from Max. In fact, if someone else offered such a thing to him, Red would have brushed it off. But this was Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. He can definitely make it possible.

“What if I asked for a twenty-storey building with an infinity pool and bowling alley?” Red sarcastically said, trying to break the serious atmosphere.

“Where do you want to build it?” Max asked, and Red almost slapped himself.

“You’re serious?” 

“The twenty-storey building with an infinity pool and bowling alley, where do you want it?” Max asked again, and Red could no longer hold it in. He burst out in laughter. He almost forgot that this was the same boy who casually gave a hundred thousand dollars to Jokers on the first day of school. 

“You’re really something, Max. I appreciate the offer. Unfortunately, I already have a twenty-storey building with an infinity pool and bowling alley at Mason Way. My mother gifted one to me for my 18th birthday,” Red said with a smug look.

When it comes to wealth and properties, the heir to the Palm Hills Development definitely does not lack them.

“What do you want then?” Max insisted.

Red groaned, aware that Max wouldn’t let this go. But while brainstorming, Red remembered something while he was still confined at the hospital. The reminder instantly made him smile.

“Blue daisies,” he answered, surprising Max. “I’d love to receive some blue daisies, same as the ones you sent at the hospital.”

“You knew I sent them? But I didn’t put a note.”

“I know. But someone once told me that you liked those flowers because it resembles the color of your eyes,” Red revealed before realizing that he probably wasn’t supposed to say that. “I mean, Marcus told me. He likes to talk about you, you know? It gets annoying sometimes.”

The explanation was too convenient, but Max didn’t ask further. Instead, he promised to arrange blue daisies. 

Once the “ I want to repay you “ obsession was settled, Red finally brought up the reason he wanted to talk to Max in the first place.

“I actually came to fetch you. BND wants to talk. They’re all waiting in the garden.”

“Don’t tell me Hans is planning to hand his crown brooch over to me,” Max managed to joke. Red laughed and draped his arms around the heir, the two walking out of the locker room together.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Max told his friends to wait for him at the Great Hall while he and Red proceeded to the garden, where the Dukes had been waiting. 

Once they arrived, Max found them standing in a line, their expression serious. Max couldn’t contain himself. “Is this the part where we hold candles and sacrifice someone?” he sarcastically asked while Red joined the others.

Hans suppressed a smile and took a step forward. “Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” he said, voice steady, “you have completed training with us. And in a surprising turn of events, you have exceeded our expectations.”

“You showed dedication and growth. You improved more than anyone before you, and eventually became the epitome of someone who possessed both brains and brawn,” Arjun followed.

Marcus approached with a small red velvet case. Max’s chest tightened as he watched his brother open it, revealing a brooch. The young heir thought it was a crown, as he had previously imagined. But no, it wasn’t a crown. It was BND’s brotherhood brooch.

“This is temporary,” Marcus explained, placing the brooch in Max’s hand before pinning it to his collar. “You’ll receive the crown when you return as a winner.”

The brooch sat beside Jokers’ crown on his collar. The ceremony was simple. There were no underlings, white uniforms, or other brotherhoods to judge and watch, but everything else was meaningful. Max definitely thought it was something only BND would pull.

“This brooch signifies BND’s three important traits: honor, passion, and grace,” Marcus continued. “Carry that into the competition.”

Hans stepped closer and reached over to Max’s collar, a gesture he once did during Max’s first assessment.

“Looks like I was right. It does look good on you,” Hans said with a smile. “Well, there is nothing more we can teach you, so bring glory to J.S. High, Max. We’ll be waiting for you here,” he said.

Max felt a tear form in his eyes, but he forced a smile, a sign of determination.

“Hey, Hans, let’s make him do the honors,” Khian said, and Max furrowed his brows in confusion.

Hans raised an eyebrow as the rest of the dukes nodded to agree. Max wanted to know what they meant, but then Hans stood straight and adjusted his peaked cap. “Sinclaire, those who cannot stand the thorns…”

Max was surprised, but a smile began to appear on his face once he recognized the familiar line. They waited as Max clenched his new brooch. With pride, he finished, “Do not deserve to pick the roses.”

BND finally cheered, rushing toward Max as they showered him with praise and congratulations.

The brooch weighed heavily against his chest, along with the pressure and expectations that came with it.

But beneath the doubt, he found comfort in fleeting memories of Jokers’ laughter, Ari’s bluntness, Hans stren training, and even the playful atmosphere at the Great Hall.

Max vowed that he would protect those new, precious memories. Quietly. Fiercely.

And when everything had been said and done, he’d definitely return as a winner.

|END|

49 | A Painful Reminder

♜

MAX WAS STILL WITH BND when Ari, Felix, and Ervin arrived at the Great Hall. They went to their usual table, which now felt slightly cramped since Jokers had decided to join them. It was still strange, but the three had gotten used to it over time.

“Please don’t tell me BND will start joining us down here once Max wins,” Felix said as they took their seats while waiters began serving their lunch.

“Let’s not assume that yet,” Ari replied. “Max may have improved, but we can’t forget that the other contestants have been training for a year too. We can’t pretend he’ll just magically beat them all without effort.”

“Why do you always have to be so pessimistic?” Felix asked, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not being pessimistic. I’m being realistic. Max isn’t some kind of god, and as much as we admire him, he’s not the greatest person in the world. We shouldn’t fool ourselves. Max is just one person.”

“He’s right,” Ervin added, and Felix finally let it go.

The three began eating without Max while the students in the Great Hall remained as rowdy as ever, some running around like children while others shouted across tables. It was the usual chaos—loud, careless, and unrestrained—but that atmosphere shifted the moment the first brotherhood entered.

Ervin, who had just lifted his fork, immediately stood along with the rest of the Jacks to bow as Jokers walked into the hall. Most of the students didn’t even bother to acknowledge them, but as the brotherhood moved through the center aisle, one of the white uniforms running around suddenly slammed into Krist.

For a brief moment, everything seemed to pause.

Ari and the others expected the student to apologize, but instead, he simply fixed his uniform, glared at Krist, and ran off as if nothing had happened.

Felix almost spat his food out.

“Did he just—”

Laughter broke out across the hall.

Jokers stood still in the middle of the aisle, and the reaction alone was enough to confirm what Krist had already been worried about. 

Ever since they lost to Max, the white uniforms had started looking down on them. Krist didn’t hold it against Max, but the impact of that loss on his brotherhood was undeniable. 

They had once been feared, but now, in the eyes of these students, they were nothing more than clowns. Even their decision to move down from the balconies seemed to reinforce that illusion of equality, as if the white uniforms suddenly believed they were on the same level.

“How dare you…” Brave stepped forward, ready to chase after the student, but Krist immediately stopped him.

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “Max’s competition is tomorrow. We don’t want to cause him any trouble.”

“But—”

“I’m hungry,” Rome, their youngest,  suddenly said, cutting the tension short.

Brave exhaled and nodded, forcing himself to back down as Jokers continued walking toward their seats. Ervin remained standing, waiting for them to arrive at the table, but before they could even settle, another voice rang out from across the hall.

“Where’s their bitch?” a third-year gaffer shouted. “Don’t tell me they left him sore on the rooftop again.”

Laughter spread even louder this time.

“Can’t believe they made him our representative for Brains & Brawn,” the white uniform continued. “What does he even have? His asshole and pretty face? What’s he gonna do, seduce the judges?”

Ari, Felix, and Ervin froze. Ari, especially, wanted to intervene. His expression tightened as the insult echoed. He was ready to defend his friend when all of a sudden…glass shattered.

Gasps rippled through the Great Hall as students instinctively stepped back. Ari’s eyes widened when he saw Krist gripping the gaffer by the collar. The worst part was that the brooch pinned to the student’s uniform was a symbol of the counts’ underlings.

“He’s a Lighter,” Ervin muttered. If Cigarettes arrived now, this would escalate beyond control.

“This is bad. This is so fucking bad,” Ari said, standing from his seat.

“Ari, do something,” Felix urged.

Ari hesitated for a split second before turning to Ervin. “Make sure Master Joker doesn’t do anything reckless. I’m calling for help.”

“Are you serious?” Ervin asked, but Ari was already running out of the Great Hall before Ervin could even complain.

Ervin cursed under his breath and rushed toward Jokers, knowing exactly what was at stake. If Krist ended up hurting that student, he would be suspended, and Jokers being suspended was the last thing Max needed right before the competition. It would distract him, affect his performance, and possibly cost him everything.

“Say that again,” Krist said, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

The gaffer didn’t back down. He stared straight at Krist without a hint of fear.

Krist was about to escalate further, but Ervin stepped in just in time. “Master Joker, I suggest you let him go if you don’t want any trouble. You know how much Max is fond of you. He won’t be able to focus tomorrow if something happens to you now.”

“I was—”

“Oh?” the gaffer sneered. “So you listen to your underlings now too?”

Ervin’s expression hardened instantly. “You shut your mouth! Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

Before the situation could settle, the rest of Cigarettes’ underlings stood from their seats as well. There were far too many of them, and even Ervin instinctively took a step back. No matter how loyal the Jacks were, they would be outnumbered.

“Now that you understand, let go of me before my brotherhood arrives and beats your asses,” the gaffer said confidently

For a moment, Krist went completely still, his expression blank as he released the gaffer’s collar. After everything he had heard, this was his final straw.

Ervin and Felix couldn’t believe it either. No one had ever spoken to a brotherhood like that before, even in the lower houses. But the white uniforms were acting like they were on the same level. They’ve forgotten that these men were the barons, and that title didn’t come easy.

“ Go back to your seat, “ Toni, who was standing beside Ervin, whispered.

“What do you mean?”

Toni didn’t explain further and just gave Ervin a stern look. So the Jack was forced to follow orders, joining Felix, who looked just as worried as he was.

The white uniforms watched in excitement. Having someone go up against a brotherhood leader made them feel like they finally had power. 

“Serves you right,” the gaffer said mockingly before turning away. He thought he won. He thought the baron wasn’t going to do anything to him anymore. But just as he walked past him…

Master Joker grabbed him by the neck and slammed him onto the table with brutal force.

The impact echoed across the hall, silencing everyone instantly.

Krist’s grip tightened around the student’s throat as the gaffer struggled to breathe, his hands clawing at Krist’s arm in desperation, but it was useless. The strength difference was overwhelming.

“I never thought pests like you could say things like that so easily,” Krist said, his voice dangerously calm.

The gaffer tried to fight back, but nothing worked.

“I know you,” Krist continued, touching the Cigarettes brooch with his free hand. “You used to be one of my Jacks, isn’t that right? I may look like I don’t care, but I remember every face…especially those who left.”

Fear finally broke through the gaffer’s arrogance as saliva slipped from his mouth while he struggled to breathe. The other students at the surrounding table couldn’t even move. 

“I must not have disciplined you enough back then,” Krist said. “As an apology to CJ, let me teach you a lesson.”

He released the student just enough for him to gasp for air, but when the gaffer looked up and saw the expression on Krist’s face, he froze.

Master Joker was grinning at him from ear to ear.

“What was your motto again? Oh, right, ’ You can’t use a cigarette without a lighter ’. Well, if that’s the case, let me break this little lighter…so CJ realizes how useless it is.”

“I-I’m sorry…” the gaffer finally said, causing Krist to laugh.

“I know you are.”

Students covered their mouths as Krist raised his fist. He was about to punch the gaffer in the face when, all of a sudden, someone forcefully pulled the gaffer away, causing Krist’s punch to slam into the table instead. The impact was so strong that one of the table’s legs snapped instantly, drawing shocked gasps from everyone in the hall.

If that punch had landed, the student would have died.

The hall remained frozen in place, the sound of splintering wood still echoing faintly as Krist’s fist stayed buried in the broken table. His breathing was heavy, controlled yet violent, and for a moment, no one dared to move, not even the members of Jokers who stood behind him.

Then a voice broke through the silence.

“In the name of this great house, I bestow upon you the White Uniform Protection Code. This means you do not, and cannot, lay a finger on these students if it is not part of your custom. I know that I do not have the right to intervene, but if a white uniform is involved, I must take action.”

Krist’s shoulders rose and fell once before he slowly pulled his hand out of the shattered table and turned around.

Vice President Gavriil Alexeev stood behind him, still catching his breath from running, yet his posture remained firm as he faced the furious baron without hesitation. 

Ari wanted to call President Ian, but Gavriil was the first Elite he came across. As much as he hated him, the class rep. told him what was happening at the Great Hall. He didn’t even need to ask the vice president for help. Gavriil had already rushed to the scene before things could get worse.

The tension between them was suffocating, but Krist said nothing at first. Instead, he glanced down at his knuckles, which had started bleeding from the impact. He grabbed a table napkin from a white uniform’s table and used it to wrap the wound. 

“Vice President…” Krist finally said, his voice calm but laced with something far more dangerous as his gaze shifted back to the gaffer still trembling on the floor. “You should teach your white uniforms how to act according to their title because I’m not always nice. And when this kindness wears off, codes won’t be enough to protect them.”

Gavriil lowered his head into a deep, respectful bow. “I apologize…my baron.”

Krist didn’t respond. He simply turned his back and walked out of the Great Hall, and the rest of Jokers followed immediately behind him without a single word.

For a few seconds, no one moved.

Then Gavriil looked back at the gaffer, and the shift in his expression was immediate.

“Do you have a fucking death sentence?!” he shouted, his voice sharp enough to make the student flinch.

The gaffer’s body trembled as he struggled to push himself up from the floor, his hands shaking uncontrollably while the rest of the students in the Great Hall kept their heads down, pretending they hadn’t been laughing moments ago.

“How dare you make fun of a brotherhood, especially the barons?” Gavriil continued, his voice cold and merciless. “You are nothing but dirt beneath their shoes, and yet you act as if you stand above them. Shame on you for calling yourself a White Uniform in this house.”

The gaffer lowered his head, unable to speak.

Gavriil stepped forward, positioning himself at the center of the hall so everyone could look at him.

“Brotherhoods are ranked higher than any of you white uniforms combined,” he said firmly. “Whether they are rank one or rank six, they stand above us. It does not matter if you serve under a higher-ranked brotherhood. That is the most basic rule of this system. Is that clear?!”

“Yes, Vice President Alexeev!” the students responded in unison, their voices laced with fear.

Gavriil exhaled slowly, massaging his temple as if trying to contain his irritation before looking back at the gaffer whose pants were already soaked.

“And you…you’re suspended. Meet me at the Elites’ office after classes.”

The gaffer’s head snapped up in panic. “P-Please… Vice President, you can’t—”

“Oh, I can,” Gavriil cut him off without hesitation. “If I had the authority, I would have you removed from this house entirely. Consider yourself lucky that suspension is all you’re receiving. As you all know, suspension means a deduction of one thousand merit points.” His eyes hardened slightly. “That should be enough to send you back to being a dweller.”

The gaffer’s face drained of color, his lips trembling as if he was about to cry, but no sound came out.

“Let this serve as a warning to all of you,” Gavriil added as he turned his attention to the rest of the hall. “Defy the rules again, and I will personally submit your names for deliberation. We’ll see if you’re still worthy of staying in this house by then.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving the hall in a suffocating silence that no one dared to break.

It wasn’t long before the doors opened again.

Cigarettes finally arrived.

They entered the Great Hall laughing and talking as they usually did, but the moment they stepped inside and noticed the unnatural silence, their expressions shifted almost instantly. Their eyes fell on the gaffer still kneeling in the middle of the aisle, his body trembling as if he had just survived something he couldn’t comprehend.

The other members of Cigarettes exchanged glances, but before any of them could approach, CJ raised a hand slightly, signaling them to head to the balcony instead. They obeyed without question, leaving him alone as he stepped closer to his underling.

“What the hell have you done?” CJ asked, his voice low and controlled.

The gaffer looked up at him, desperation flashing in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. But just before a single word could come out, the sound of trumpets echoed through the hall.

Everyone immediately stood. The Royals had arrived.

PHD entered first, followed by Busters, their presence alone enough to command absolute silence as they made their way toward the balconies. But just as they passed through the center of the hall, Viktor and Hee-joon suddenly stopped.

Right in front of the gaffer.

CJ exhaled, already sensing where this was going, but he said nothing as he stepped back, leaving his underling to face what was coming.

“Boss…” the gaffer called weakly, but CJ didn’t look back.

Viktor stepped forward and slowly crouched down in front of the student, his expression unreadable as he studied him for a moment before a grin spread across his face.

“So you’re the one who almost got the barons suspended,” Viktor said.

The gaffer’s eyes widened as he immediately bowed, pressing his forehead against the cold floor. “P-Please spare me, my king!”

Viktor let out a low laugh, the sound echoing unnaturally across the silent hall as he stood back up and fixed his uniform.

“White uniforms are getting braver these days,” he said. “I encourage that…but I don’t tolerate disrespect.”

Before anyone could react, Viktor kicked the student hard in the stomach.

A few students flinched, some turning their heads away, but no one moved to intervene as Viktor continued, kicking him again and again until blood started to spill from the gaffer’s mouth.

No one dared to stop him. Not even Cigarettes. After all, a lot might have forgotten, but the White Uniform Protection Code didn’t apply to Viktor. 

CJ remained where he was, his expression unreadable as he continued eating. The white uniform was his underling, but he didn’t dare intervene. 

For the first and second-year students, this was the first time they had ever seen Viktor like this, and the brutality of it shattered whatever illusions they still had about the system they were living in. It had only been a month since classes started, but it was clear now that they still didn’t understand where they stood.

This incident was their painful reminder.

“Damn…what is going on with this house?” Viktor muttered, delivering one final kick before stepping back. “First the bombing incident, and now this.”

He snapped his fingers. Immediately, two members of PHD’s Dangerous Five rushed down from the balcony and pulled the gaffer up to his feet, forcing him to stay conscious.

“You dare faint in front of the king while he’s speaking?” the prince asked coldly.

The gaffer struggled to stay upright, his body barely holding together.

Viktor approached him again, and this time, instead of attacking, he simply ran a hand through his hair before speaking in a quieter, far more controlled tone.

“Don’t ever disrespect the brotherhoods in my house again,” he said. “Because I have seven punishments waiting. And I swear to you, you’ll start begging with just one.”

“Y-Yes…my king…”

Viktor always looked playful, sometimes even sadistic, but this was a different side of him that only a few have ever witnessed. 

Ian might be the face of J.S. High, but Viktor is the face of the House of Kings. How the brotherhoods and white uniforms act are all reflections of how they are as president and king.

“Now get him out of my sight. Take him to the clinic. If he’s too heavy, make him crawl,” Viktor demanded.

The two members of Dangerous Five immediately dragged the gaffer away as Viktor and Hee-joon finally returned to their balcony.

And just like that, the Great Hall fell into complete silence.

No one spoke.

No one laughed.

Even Cigarettes remained quiet, their usual playfulness gone as the weight of what had just happened settled over everyone.

That silence lingered until the second bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and only then did the students begin to move, quietly returning to their classrooms.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin walked together in silence, still processing everything they had witnessed.

After a moment, Ari let out a heavy breath. “Earlier, you said I was being pessimistic.”

Felix glanced at him. “What about it?”

Ari clenched his fist. He couldn’t stop thinking about the white uniforms who treated Jokers like that. Ari’s an underling of the third strongest brotherhood. Despite his indifference, he respects BND, and that includes Jokers. Disrespecting any of them never crossed his mind.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Max really does need to win that pageant,” Ari declared.

“Why all of a sudden?” Felix asked.

Ari kept his gaze forward as they walked. “What Viktor did will silence the white uniforms, but it won’t change how they think. If Max wins…if he conquers BND, he won’t just be the student who defeated Jokers.” His expression hardened slightly. “He’ll become someone they can’t even imagine reaching.”

Ervin raised an eyebrow. “And that changes things how?”

“It forces them to respect Jokers again,” Ari said. “Because if Max becomes unreachable, then defeating Jokers won’t feel like something they can replicate. It won’t feel like something they can mock.”

Felix frowned. “What about what you said earlier? About the other contestants training for a year?”

Ari exhaled slowly.

“Well…either Max really did turn into a monster,” he said quietly, “or we’ll just have to wait for another miracle.”

None of them spoke after that.

Because tomorrow…

would decide everything.

|END|

50 | The Pageant Begins

♜

KRIST STARED AT THE city lights from the balcony of his bedroom. The view had always calmed him, which was exactly why he made sure Jokers’ brotherhood base would be on the rooftop.

After what happened earlier at the Great Hall, he went straight to their base to cool his head. He knew things had gotten out of hand because of him. If he hadn’t reacted to something so petty, none of it would have escalated that far. He was the leader of the barons. He should have known better.

“I can’t believe I almost punched a White Uniform like that,” Krist muttered in frustration. “And that damn Viktor… he just had to add fuel to the fire.”

He ran a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath. Then he pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his robe, slipping one stick between his lips as he prepared to light it.

A knock echoed from the door.

Krist sighed and slipped the pack back into his pocket. “Come in,” he said.

A maid entered and approached the balcony. “Young master, a gentleman is waiting for you downstairs,” she informed him.

Krist sighed again. He finally lit the cigarette and placed it between his lips, his gaze still fixed on the city lights as he slowly exhaled a stream of smoke. “Whoever that is, show him out. It’s already late. Whatever he has to say can wait until tomorrow.”

“But young master—”

“Leave,” he said, more firmly this time.

The maid hesitated. She was afraid of Krist—everyone in the household was, but for some reason, she seemed even more terrified of the person waiting downstairs. Gathering her courage, she stepped closer.

“It’s a man named Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” she said. “I highly suggest you welcome this guest.”

The cigarette almost slipped from Krist’s fingers.

He turned to her immediately, eyes widening in shock, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he tossed the cigarette aside and rushed out of the room, heading straight downstairs.

In the living room, Max sat elegantly on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, taking a calm sip of the tea that had been served to him. By the time Krist appeared, slightly out of breath as if he had run the entire way down, Max was already placing the teacup back on the table.

“W-What…what are you doing here?” Krist asked, still trying to catch his breath.

Max glanced briefly at the maids surrounding them before looking back at Krist. “I don’t mind talking with everyone here listening,” he said calmly, “but do you?”

Krist stared at him for a moment before letting out a long sigh, massaging his temple. “Follow me.”

He turned and headed back upstairs without waiting.

Max rose from the sofa, adjusting his coat before following him. When they reached the bedroom, Krist led him straight to the balcony where he had been moments ago.

“Wow,” Max said as he leaned casually against the balustrade, looking out at the horizon. “You really like staring at city lights like those guys in dramas, huh? No wonder your base is on the rooftop.”

Krist turned to him with a serious expression, and Max chuckled softly.

“You’re not an idiot, Krist,” Max said. “You already know why I’m here.”

“Did Princess Ariel tell you?” Krist asked, referring to Ari.

Max shook his head. “No. It was your Jack, Ervin.”

Krist clicked his tongue under his breath, but he let it go. It didn’t matter anyway. Max would have found out eventually. So instead, he stepped beside him, facing the same view.

“Whatever happened at the Great Hall doesn’t concern you,” Krist said. “I did what I did as a baron, and Viktor did what he did as the king. You should be resting for tomorrow’s competition instead of wasting your time on something like this.”

Max didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted downward until he noticed the cigarette on the floor. He stared at it for a few seconds before looking back at Krist.

“You got more cigarettes?”

Krist blinked, caught off guard. “Did you even hear what I just said?”

“I’m in no position to scold you for what you did,” Max said calmly. “But you’re also in no position to tell me that what happened doesn’t concern me, Mr. Hyusen.”

The air shifted instantly.

Krist looked away, unable to hold Max’s gaze.

Only then did it fully sink in. This wasn’t J.S. High. He had never seen Max outside the campus before, but now that he had, the difference was undeniable. Outside those walls, Max felt… heavier. More dangerous. More intimidating.

“I know you and your brotherhood have been getting backlash after our battle,” Max continued. “And even if you don’t blame me, I still feel responsible.”

Krist opened his mouth to argue, but Max cut him off before he could speak.

“I know this isn’t what you want me to do, but…” Max reached into his coat and pulled something out, placing it in Krist’s hand.

Krist’s eyes widened.

It was his crown brooch.

“What are you—”

“Give it back to me if I win tomorrow,” Max said. “If I don’t…I want you to wear it again. Properly. With pride.”

Krist stared at him, stunned.

“You gave me that brooch because you believed in me, but all I’ve done is cause your brotherhood more trouble. I don’t deserve it. Not yet. The only way I can claim that crown properly…is by winning.”

His voice remained steady.

“I’ll raise my rank. And when I do, you will no longer feel ashamed for giving your brooch to a White Uniform like me.”

Krist couldn’t respond immediately. He simply stared at Max, searching his face, but the resolve in his eyes didn’t waver.

So instead, Krist clenched the brooch in his hand and nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “A lot is riding on this now, so you’d better win no matter what.”

Max’s expression softened into a small smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Krist chuckled and reached out to pat his shoulder. “You’re insane, you know that? Driving all the way here just to say this. Should I cook something for you as compensation?”

Max laughed and pushed his hand away. “Please. I don’t want to be poisoned.”

Krist laughed with him, but the sound slowly faded as he found himself staring at Max again. This time, he looked at the young heir with a deeper sense of respect and admiration.

Max was wrong. Krist was never ashamed. Jokers had never regretted giving him that brooch. Not even for a second. If anything, it had been their proudest decision.

Because to them, Max was never just a White Uniform.

“ We’ll protect you…no matter what ,“ Krist whispered under his breath. “ We won’t make the same mistake again .“

Max tilted his head slightly. “What was that?”

Krist shook his head with a small smile, slipping the brooch into his pocket. “Nothing. Anyway, do you want dinner? I can ask the chef to—”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t planning to stay long. Like you said, I still need to rest for tomorrow.”

Krist nodded. “Alright. I’ll walk you out.”

…

The day had finally arrived.

October 6, 2023, marked the 19th Mr. Brains & Brawn, where twelve contestants from twelve prestigious schools would compete. This year’s lineup has everyone talking, especially since one of the contestants was none other than Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.

“A whole month,” Max muttered as he stared at his reflection in the car window. “I haven’t done anything for a whole month.”

Étienne, who was driving, glanced at him but stayed silent. He knew Max was nervous, even if he refused to admit it. Saying anything now would only make it worse.

“If I don’t win this…I’ll lose everything,” Max continued.

Yesterday, he had felt confident. But after resting and receiving messages from his friends and protectors, everything had finally settled in.

Max had always trusted his abilities. That was never the problem. The problem was that he didn’t know his opponents. And that uncertainty was dangerous.

To steady himself, he took a deep breath and touched the BND brooch on his collar. He had chosen not to wear the brooch Janus gave him, and with Krist now holding onto the crown brooch, this was the only one he had left.

“Did you know that this will be broadcast live on national television? Marcus even said the entire student body of J.S. High will be watching in the auditorium. It can’t get more embarrassing than that.”

Étienne let out a quiet chuckle.

“It’s a good thing you’re nervous,” he said.

Max glanced at him through the mirror. “And why is that?”

“It means you care,” Étienne replied. “You were never this nervous before because you always believed things would be fine, even if they didn’t go your way. But now…that’s not the case anymore. And I think that’s a good thing.”

Max looked away, slightly embarrassed.

“Of course I care,” he said. “This involves the pride of a bunch of jesters I’ve grown close to. When I conquered them, I thought people would finally see my worth. They didn’t. There was no respect. All they felt was envy. So if I win…maybe that changes.”

Étienne didn’t fully understand everything, but he understood enough.

“Then turn that envy into admiration. Make them want to be like you, not take what you have. Win in a way that they’ll be forced to respect you,” his butler explained, and Max looked back at him, finally smiling.

“I don’t know how to do that…but I’ll try. Thank you.”

After a few more minutes, they arrived at the Athena Theater. Cars lined the entrance, and dozens of reporters were already waiting outside, swarming every contestant who arrived. Max already expected the attention, but seeing it in person still irritated him.

The media had always been manipulative, and he had experienced that firsthand. Ever since he was announced as a contestant, his face had been everywhere. Be it in newspapers, magazines, or even social media.

“When my photo was published on Mr. Brains & Brawns’ official site, reporters flooded the company with calls and emails, hoping to get an interview,” Max said, rubbing his temple. “Jean even scolded me for it.”

Étienne chuckled softly.

The moment their car stopped, reporters rushed toward them.

“Here we go,” Max readied himself, adjusting his peaked cap.

Étienne stepped out first and opened the door. Max took a deep breath before stepping out, and instantly, flashes exploded around him.

“Sir Sinclaire! You are this year’s representative for J.S. High. Is this because of your uncle’s influence?”

“Do you feel pressure knowing J.S. High has never won?”

“Are you confident to bag the crown this time around?”

Microphones were shoved toward him from every direction. Étienne tried to push them back, but Max was trained for this exact situation. With a smile, he gracefully raised a hand.

The flashes stopped in an instant.

“I will only answer one question,” he said sweetly.

Reporters tried to push through, but a woman approached wearing an official press I.D. for the competition. Behind her was a man holding a large camera. The red light only meant that this was from the official broadcast.

“Good morning, Sir Sinclaire. I know everyone has a ton of questions for you, but right now, we simply want to know…did you come here to win and bring J.S. High its first victory?” she asked.

Max smiled at the camera.

“I have been trained by the best mentors, and I am being supported by people who believe in my abilities,” he answered. “I stand here today, not as Maximilian Sinclaire, but as a proud student of J.S. High. I will bring glory to the House of Kings, and I will make sure to return with the crown.”

Flashes erupted again.

But before more questions could follow, someone pulled him away. It was Class II-A’s adviser, and J.S High’s most feared professor, Sir Kai Barron.

“Our representative will not be answering further questions. Thank you,” Sir Barron said, guiding him inside.

The moment they stepped into the lobby, the atmosphere shifted.

The other contestants who had been casually talking among themselves suddenly went quiet, their attention drawn almost instinctively to Max. Some of them exchanged glances, while others leaned toward their companions to whisper, their eyes never leaving him.

“I should have requested guards,” Sir Barron said as he released Max, clearly irritated as he adjusted his now slightly wrinkled uniform. “The ratings for this year’s pageant are already higher than last year’s, and I’m quite certain that’s because of you.”

Max let out a quiet breath, still taking in the unfamiliar environment. “I’m sorry, but…why are you here?” he asked.

Sir Barron turned to him with a look that suggested he was moments away from scolding him. He placed a hand on his waist, posture straight and authoritative. “Just because you’re the representative doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone. Someone still has to look after you, and unfortunately for both of us, I am your homeroom teacher.”

Max almost laughed at how serious he sounded, but he held it back and simply nodded.

“Don’t worry,” Sir Barron continued, his tone easing slightly. “The beauty portion will be quick. You’ll be introduced, evaluated, and scored. After that, you’ll all be brought to the battleground for the main event.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Max commented.

Sir Barron gave him a look but didn’t argue. “Wait here. I’ll register you and get your contestant number.”

With that, he walked off, leaving Max standing in the middle of the lobby.

Max took a slow breath and looked around. The contestants were scattered across the space, some already dressed and prepared, their uniforms distinct enough to reveal which prestigious schools they came from. But nothing stood out more than the White Uniforms.

That was why, when three more students entered wearing similar white attire, the shift in attention was immediate.

“Sinclaire.”

Max turned toward the voice and saw three White Uniforms approaching him.

The insignias on their uniforms made it easy to recognize their origins, but despite the similarities, each house had something different that made their uniforms unique. 

One wore a military sash instead of an armband, a signature from the House of Rooks. Another had a half cape draped over his shoulders, which only students from the House of Knights could pull. The last wore a priest-like uniform, refined and solemn. That was none other than the House of Bishops.

There are five houses in total under the Brotherhood Association, but since Thomas L. High School, AKA the House of Pawns, doesn’t have White uniforms, only four are participating.

“Can’t believe we’re seeing you in person,” the one from Roland’s School for Boys (House of Rooks) said with a grin. “I’m Lennox Connery , but you can call me Nox.”

Max studied him briefly before shaking his hand. Nox’s jet-black hair framed sharp features, and his eyes carried a strange brightness that made him stand out. The golden military sash across his uniform confirmed what Max had already assumed.

A gaffer.

“Nice to meet you,” Max said.

Another student stepped forward, his presence calmer but just as striking. His darker complexion contrasted sharply with the white uniform, and the half cape resting over his shoulder gave him a composed, almost regal air.

“I’m Nicolás Vega , from D&F High School (House of Knights),” he introduced, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sinclaire.”

Max shook his hand as well, noting the gold cuffs on his sleeves.

Another gaffer.

Finally, the third approached.

He was smaller, softer in appearance, his features almost saint-like. His uniform resembled a refined cassock, and the stole draped around his shoulders carried a quiet elegance that matched his demeanor.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sinclaire. My name is Tsukumo Asahi from St. George Academy.”

Max nodded as he shook his hand too, his eyes briefly scanning the gold detail on the stole.

Gaffer.

So they were all the same.

“I’m honored to meet all of you,” Max said with a polite smile. “You already know who I am, so feel free to call me Max.”

The three exchanged brief glances before smiling back at him. There was an unspoken understanding between them, one that didn’t need to be voiced. For now, they were allies.

That was what BND had told him. And clearly, they had been told the same. Other schools would most likely form alliances. The Brotherhood Houses had to stick together to survive long enough before the finals.

While they spoke, Nicolás suddenly leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on Max’s collar.

“Wait…isn’t that the Dukes’ brooch?” he asked, surprise evident in his voice. “J.S. High usually sends underlings, right? But that’s not a Rose brooch. That’s BND’s official brooch, isn’t it?”

Nox and Asahi both looked at Max, equally curious.

Max hesitated for a split second before shaking his head. “No…it’s a bit complicated, but I’m not a member of BND.”

“So you’re an underling like us?” Asahi asked, and only then did Max take note of the brooch on their collar. 

They were underlings too.

BND didn’t know who the other contestants would be, but they knew the brotherhood houses would send an underling. Before the organizers revealed who the participants were, the dukes made Max study the brotherhoods from the lower houses, as well as their underlings.

From what he remembered during his training, Asahi belonged to Rank 8 Archers, Nicolás to Rank 14 Gallants, and Nox to Rank 18 Jack of All Trades—each from their respective houses.

Different titles.

Same structure.

The Houses operated differently, but the hierarchy remained consistent. In the House of Kings, titles ranged from kings to barons. In the House of Bishops, they were lords. In the House of Knights, they were knights. In the House of Rooks, captains. And in the House of Pawns, soldiers.

“Actually…” Max opened his mouth to explain his own brooch, but decided not to at the last minute. He realized that they might be allies for now, but at the end of the day, only one of them could win.

“Yes,” Max said instead. “I’m an underling. My brooch is just…a bit updated.”

The lie was flawed, but thankfully, none of them questioned it further.

The four continued talking, briefly exchanging details about their training and expectations, until Sir Barron returned, along with three other professors from the different houses.

“Maximilian,” Sir Barron called as he approached, pinning a number onto his uniform.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/c324463e00e8406082ebce4d1c417761b4d48301/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f624e434544562d356678457534413d3d2d313037343437303036392e313861303563343934633232393830663539373433393134303836352e706e67)               

Max glanced down at the badge briefly before looking back up.

The other White Uniforms had already been assigned their numbers: 6, 7, and 8.

“Looks like you’ve already met,” one of the teachers said with a satisfied nod. “That’s good. You’ll all be targets the moment you step into the battleground since you all came from schools that received the most publicity. It’s best that you stick together for now.”

The female teacher stood beside Asahi before turning her attention to Max next. “And you must be Max Sinclaire. I’ve heard quite a lot about you from Sir Barron.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Max replied, bowing his head slightly.

“Well then,” another teacher added, adjusting his glasses, “you four should head toward the entrance. The opening ceremony is about to begin.”

The four nodded and made their way toward the designated area, joining the rest of the contestants waiting to be called.

As they stood there, the tension slowly built.

And behind them, the teachers watched.

One of the instructors from the House of Rooks glanced toward Sir Barron. “I hope you’ve warned your precious White Uniform,” he said. “He’ll be prey the moment he steps into the battleground. Even with allies, they won’t hesitate to throw him to the lions if it means surviving.”

Sir Barron remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Max, who was casually speaking with the others as if none of it fazed him.

The other teachers expected concern. Worry. Doubt. But instead, Sir Barron gave a confident smile, surprising them.

“Throw him to the lions?” he repeated, eyes still on their school’s representative. “That’s perfect then. Because that precious White Uniform…is a very capable tamer.”

|END|

51 | With Grace

♜

THE ANNOUNCER CALLED OUT names as the contestants entered the venue one by one. Max waited patiently near the door as Nox made his entrance first, followed by Nicolás, and then Asahi. A woman holding the list of names approached Max and told him to get ready.

Max adjusted his peaked cap slightly and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting everything settle. Jokers. The greenhouse explosion. His training with the Roses, and the two brotherhoods he trusted. Every experience had shaped him into who he was now, and he refused to let any of it go to waste.

“ Contestant number nine, representing J.S High… “ Someone announced inside the auditorium.

Max opened his eyes.

The door in front of him swung open.

Applause erupted from the audience as he stepped into the auditorium, walking down the center aisle. The flashes from the cameras were blinding, making it difficult for him to see clearly, but he kept his posture steady.

“Let us all welcome second-year student, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire!”

The applause grew louder.

Max continued walking until he reached his assigned seat among the contestants. Fortunately, he ended up beside Asahi from the House of Bishops. Max preferred that since Asahi wasn’t the type to force conversation, and that quiet presence was something he appreciated.

“Alright, here we go. The schools with the most wins are coming,” Max overheard Nox say from a few seats away.

“Contestant number ten, representing Westminster College…”

The doors opened again.

A strikingly handsome man entered, dressed in a red-and-gold uniform that immediately caught Max’s attention. Westminster College, one of the oldest institutions, was known for producing politicians and leaders. Several elected presidents had come from that school alone. Members of the Royal family also attended there, which is why it was no surprise that they had already won this pageant three times.

“Let us welcome fourth-year student, Magnus McKay !”

Magnus smiled brightly as he walked down the aisle, waving to the crowd before taking his seat…right beside Max.

With an easy charm, Magnus turned to him. “Nice to meet you. You must be?”

Max paused for a brief second. He’s known to be arrogant at times, so the question surprised him. People rarely asked who he was. Most already knew.

Magnus seemed to expect some kind of reaction. He thought Max would be confused, maybe even offended, but Max remained composed and offered his hand.

“My name is Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire from J.S High,” he said calmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…” He paused, then chuckled softly. “I apologize, but what was your name again? I know it was just announced, but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

Magnus blinked, caught off guard. He wasn’t able to hide the reaction like Max did.

“O-Oh…Magnus,” he replied, unable to hide the slight stumble in his voice.

Max almost smirked.

Magnus, clearly embarrassed, avoided his hand entirely and looked away instead.

“ These students always look down on us ,“ a soft voice whispered.

Max turned slightly toward Asahi. “What do you mean?”

Asahi kept his gaze forward, watching the entrance. “Compared to most schools here, our Houses were only established a few years ago. We’re popular with the public, but to them, we’re outsiders. They’ve been around much longer. If we put it in business terms…they’re old money, and we’re newly rich.”

Max considered that for a moment. “But didn’t the House of Knights win before?”

“They did, but with how things went, it would have been better if they just lost. You wouldn’t believe what happened after that. The controversy. The media attention. People claimed they cheated… or that they secretly sent a brotherhood member instead of a White Uniform. They nearly forfeited if it wasn’t for their House President.”

Max fell silent.

Hans had never mentioned that.

“Contestant number eleven, representing Lincoln International High School…”

A tall man with long black hair entered next. His sharp, fox-like eyes immediately stood out, carrying a quiet intensity that made him seem distant and unreadable. 

Like Westminster College, Lincoln had won Mr. Brains & Brawn three times as well.

“Let us welcome third-year student, Li Gengxin !”

Gengxin walked straight to his seat without acknowledging the audience. The moment he sat down, Magnus immediately leaned over him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Looking good as always, Gengxin!”

Gengxin looked visibly annoyed, but he didn’t push him away. Max noted that.

Finally, the last contestant was about to enter.

The audience began to rise, and the contestants followed. But instead of the final participant, a wave of press flooded into the auditorium, positioning themselves near the entrance.

“Now for the school with the most number of wins…contestant number twelve, representing Westberg Academy…”

Max’s attention snapped to the entrance. He looked almost uninterested earlier, but once his old school was mentioned, Max got excited. He wanted to know who they sent as a representative. He wanted to know who he had to look out for.

“Let us give a warm welcome to fourth-year student, Kingston Creed !”

Max’s eyes widened.

“Kingston Creed…” he muttered.

Kingston walked down the aisle with effortless confidence. The striped green coat and pants that matched the golden crest found on his chest almost made Max feel nostalgic, but that nostalgia got cut short when he saw Kingston smile.

Max watched as Kingston continued to wave at the crowd, his smile charming and eyes tantalizing. The crowd was swooned, but Max couldn’t be fooled. He remembered that smile like it was yesterday.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t beat the crap out of you?”

The memory surfaced clearly.

Max had just become student council president, something people assumed his father bought for him. It wasn’t entirely true, but the Sinclaire family’s influence had played its part. Max knew that clearly. It was one of the moments he wasn’t proud of.

Kingston, on the other hand, had been running for the same position. Unfortunately, against Max, he didn’t stand a chance.

“They really sent that jerk here,” Max said out loud, not even scared that others might hear him.

Kingston reached his seat, greeting Magnus and Gengxin first. But the moment his eyes landed on Max, his smile swiftly turned sinister.

“A friend of yours?” Asahi asked.

“You could say that,” Max replied with a sigh.

“Those three are basically a set,” Asahi added quietly. “Not because they’re friends, but because they benefit from each other. Their schools have always been like that. But when things get difficult…you’re on your own.”

Max understood that.

And he knew that the same applied to them.

“Let us once again welcome the twelve outstanding participants of the 19th Mr. Brains & Brawn!”

Applause filled the hall once more.

As Hans had explained, the beauty portion wasn’t the main event, but it still mattered. The top three scorers would receive advantages in the Battle Royale. No one knew exactly what those advantages would be each year, but they were always significant.

“Did the creator of this pageant watch Battle Royale and think it was a great idea to turn it into a competition for rich students?” Max muttered, rubbing his temple.

Asahi chuckled. “Probably.”

“Now let us officially begin, Mr. Brains & Brawn 2023!”

Five judges sat at the front.

One by one, contestants were called to stand at the center of the stage, where they were evaluated like meat. Their faces and bodies were scored in front of hundreds of people in the audience, and a thousand more who were watching live.

Arjun had explained this part clearly. This wasn’t just about appearance. It represented the image of their school. And as representatives, they were expected to embody both prestige and excellence.

“Next candidate, please get ready.”

“You’re up next.” 

Each judge could give a maximum of ten points. So far, the highest score belonged to Highlands High with an almost perfect score of forty-nine points, followed by Asahi with forty-five.

“Contestant number nine, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, is now being evaluated.”

Max stood at the center of the stage, waiting.

As ridiculous as it may sound, he prepared for this. Better sleep, proper meals, exercise, and even skincare routines. It wasn’t something he used to care about, but now, it mattered.

“J.S High’s score is…”

The judges raised their scores.

9  

10  

8  

10  

9

Forty-six.

“J.S High’s representative has scored forty-six points, placing him as the second-highest scorer. Congratulations,” the host announced, and applause followed.

Seeing the score almost felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He forced himself not to smile as he made his way back to his seat. Max had never been conscious about his looks, but getting a high score boosted his already high ego.

There are three contestants left. Now, Max only needed to hold onto his position so he could claim the advantages.

“Let us welcome on stage the representative of Westminster College, Magnus McKay…”

Everything happened fast after that. 

Magnus was evaluated and scored forty-three points, causing Max to hold his breath. Gengxin followed with forty-seven, and Max’s grip tightened on the armrest.

He dropped to third, and there was still one contestant left.

“For the final evaluation, contestant number twelve, Kingston Creed…”

Kingston stepped forward.

The judges evaluated him in silence before raising their scores.

10  

10 10

 

10 10

Fifty.

The crowd erupted. Max exhaled, rubbing his temple in quiet frustration. “Of course,” he muttered, half expecting the results. Like everyone else, Max wanted to get the advantages, but with the final results, he had no other choice but to secure his victory without them.

“Westberg Academy has acquired an outstanding score of 50 points, making him the highest scorer. Followed by Highlands High with 49 points, and Lincoln International High School with 47 points. Congratulations to the three winners.”

Max leaned back slightly. “No advantage. Great,” he said with a sigh. “No, it’s fine. I trained without advantages anyway. I can do this.”

“The advantages will now be revealed. Contestants, please look at the screen,” the host said, and the large screen in front of them lit up.

[3RD PLACE]: Map of the battleground

[2ND PLACE]:  Map of the battleground + additional 12 bullet capacity

Map of the battleground + additional 12 bullet capacity + 1 extra life/body target

Max blinked. The losing contestants groaned.

“Are they serious?” someone complained nearby.

Even Max couldn’t argue.

“When they said advantages, they really meant advantages . This is practically a cheat code,” Max said, glancing at first placer Kingston Creed, who couldn’t hide his satisfied grin.

“Thank you to everyone for their participation. The contestants will now be moving to the battlegrounds for the main event. Contestants are requested to change into the standard uniform before proceeding to the bus,” the host announced.

The contestants stood, exiting one by one as cameras flashed endlessly.

Outside, Sir Barron rushed toward him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’d say disappointed,” Max replied honestly, “but I expected this. I’m lucky I even placed fourth.”

Sir Barron almost laughed.

As they walked toward the changing rooms, his class adviser told him, “That kind of humility is terrifying.”

Max scoffed lightly. “Right.”

Sir Barron placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. J.S High is behind you,” he said, and this time, it was Max’s turn to laugh.

“You mean the same J.S High that trashed me for being chosen? Yeah, very reassuring.”

Sir Barron sighed, but he couldn’t deny it. The amount of fame Max has outside J.S. High is just as much as the amount of hate he gets inside. It was difficult to console someone aware of his situation, but the adviser was certain of one thing.

“You might be right,” he said, leaning closer. “But there’s one thing you don’t know about J.S High.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

Sir Barron smirked. “ Their hatred toward those goody-two-shoes prep schools… “ he whispered, “. ..is far greater than their hatred towards you. So go ahead, Mr. Sinclaire…”

He stopped walking and stared at the representative of their house with excitement.

“Go crazy.”

|END|

52 | With Passion

♜

“THAT WAS TOTALLY CHEATING! Max would’ve beaten that Westberg fraud! Even his hair looked stupid!” Toni of Jokers complained as he sat with his brotherhood in the auditorium.

The auditorium was packed. Not only with white uniforms, but with the brotherhoods as well. The white uniforms sat on the left with Vice President Gavriil and the rest of the Elites, while the brotherhoods filled the right side with President Ian. 

Half of Jokers were already on their feet when the final rankings had been announced—half in furious protest, the other half standing because Krist and the rest had been seated at the back and could hardly see the screen. Ian decided to arrange them by ranks, and MJ could hardly complain.

“I’m honestly baffled. How did Westberg get a perfect score? He should’ve been second, not first. Highlands looked exquisite,” Siren of Crazy 8 said, and the masked members behind him nodded in agreement.

Hans, sitting a row ahead, looked back and agreed. “I don’t mind that Max didn’t make the top three, but Westberg didn’t deserve first.”

“It’s either that the judges are blind or Westberg cheated! Max should’ve ranked first!” Rome shouted from the back, and Krist had to shove him down so he wouldn’t make a bigger scene.

Everyone in the auditorium rumbled over the beauty portion’s results. For once, the white uniforms and the brotherhoods looked united in outrage, a sight Max would have loved to witness.

“There really is something off about the results. Westberg must’ve done something to make the judges favor him,” Ervin muttered on the white uniform side.

“Right?! I’ve hated those guys since last year!” Ari snapped, which made Felix laugh. Ervin kept a calm face despite being a  Jack, while Ari blazed in anger despite being a Rose. The pair’s contrast always amused the others. If the two switched places, it would make more sense.

“Okay, settle down. The contestants are heading to the battlegrounds now,” Felix said, attempting to calm Ari, who was sitting beside the aisle because no other white uniform wanted to sit with him besides his friends.

“Where do you think it’ll be this time? Last year was an amusement park. Maybe at an aquarium?” Ervin guessed.

“The battleground at the aquarium was six years ago,” a Class II-A student interrupted. “It got intense. Someone almost died when they had to jump into the shark tank. They won’t do that again.”

Ervin turned toward the enthusiast, about to retort, when Marcus suddenly stood and pointed at the main screen. “It’s Max!”

[At Athena Theater ]

“How did you feel about the results? Disappointed, or did you expect it?” a reporter asked Max, who was already wearing the supplied tracksuit with his BND brooch pinned to the collar.

“I’m not going to lie. I was a bit disappointed. But what’s done is done. Thankfully, the advantages weren’t as game-breaking as I thought, so it wasn’t a complete waste,” Max replied, glancing at Kingston Creed being interviewed nearby.

“So you don’t think winning that advantage is necessary?” the reporter prodded.

Max looked over at Kingston again and smirked before answering the reporter. “You know what, I’m actually glad I didn’t get it. Winning because of an advantage cheapens the victory. If I win without those, wouldn’t it be more interesting?”

Kingston met Max’s gaze. Max’s remark hit him. For a second, his composure wavered.

“Good luck, Mr. Creed. It would be a shame for you to lose with all those advantages your face worked so hard for,” Max said when their eyes met, which made Kingston clench his jaw.

“You too… Sinclaire,” Kingston managed, forcing a smile.

Max left the interviews as if nothing had happened and boarded the luxury bus that the organizers had provided. It was more jet than coach, and it was guarded by two men with shotguns. The treatment was expected since the students riding it are worth billions.

“Max!” someone called after him when he got into the bus.

Nox waved from the far back and pointed at the empty seat beside Asahi. “Come sit here!”

Max smiled and joined them. Nox and Nicolás took seats across from him. Nox then leaned in and said seriously, “I know you’re not the type of guy to get scolded so openly, but I think you shouldn’t provoke Kingston Creed like that. There’s a reason their school always wins.”

Max shrugged and watched Kingston getting more interviews outside. “I know Kingston and his strengths. He’s a good fighter, but his attitude will get him. If he breaks because of petty provocation, that’s on him.”

“You talk like you’re any better,” Asahi said without looking up from his book, making the others glance his way.

“If you don’t know, major events that happen at the Kings’ Castle are reported to the lower houses. We’ve heard about the barons’ submission and what you did. We know your reputation, but your attitude isn’t perfect either,” Asahi added bluntly.

Max nodded, not trying to deny it. “I know. I overestimated myself before. I was overconfident, and I thought things would always be in my favor. But my time at J.S High has shown me how small I really am. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

Asahi closed his book and looked Max in the eye. “I hope you’re not all bark and no bite.”

Max was about to ask what he meant when Nicolás cut in. “I’m not the type to care about attitude, but you should still be careful, Max. Didn’t the Dukes’ base get bombed recently?”

“So that was reported to you guys, too?” Max asked, and the three nodded.

“To be frank, we were surprised. Something like that never happens, even in our house. You can’t just plant a bomb on a Brotherhood base and walk away. It’s fishy. I’d like to think President Janus and the Brotherhood Association have found the culprit and are keeping quiet to protect the system,” Nox said, and Nicolás smacked his head.

“This isn’t the time for conspiracy theories, Nox,” Nicolás scolded, leaning close and reminding him that Janus was Max’s uncle. Nox’s grin vanished as he covered his mouth in sudden realization. 

Nox apologized, but Max was already contemplating it. He narrowed his eyes and wondered if Nox might be right.

Krist said that the association was handling the case, but there was no follow-up until now. Could they really have found the culprit, and his uncle was just trying to hide the truth from everyone?

“I fucking hate those reporters! So unprofessional. And their breaths stink. Like, do you really have to stand so close to me?” Magnus complained as he arrived at the bus.

Kingston and Gengxin boarded shortly after. 

As soon as they got settled, a suited official came aboard, checked attendance, and the bus rolled out.

“As soon as we arrive, we’ll attach your targets and hand out high-tech paint guns. Those with advantages will receive theirs afterward,” the man explained. 

“I am aware that everyone already knows this, but for formality’s sake, we’ll run through the rules again,” he continued as the screen in front showed visual representations of the rules.

“Except for the advantages, each gun has a twelve-bullet capacity. Your task is to hit the targets attached to the contestants.  The targets are sensored and will automatically count your scores. Remember, only the bullets from your guns can trigger those sensors, so there is no point in cheating or making makeshift bullets during the battle.

If all four of your targets are hit, you’re out, and your names will be announced. Until you’ve lost, you are not allowed to leave the boundaries. You may utilize anything you find at the battleground. You may also engage in physical combat, but strategy is encouraged. The goal is to be the last person standing. Any more questions?“

No one raised their hands.

“Good. We’ll arrive in twenty-minutes. Rest up.”

Max watched the world pass in a blur and began to count to keep his eyes open. He’d trained for a month nonstop. Yesterday, BND had instructed him to rest. Training all night wouldn’t change his fundamentals. He’d done what he could.

“ I have to win ,“ he whispered, clutching the BND brooch. “ I have to…for my house. “

The bus rumbled, and Max slowly drifted to sleep.

Asahi, who was quietly reading beside Max, glanced at the young heir. He slowly put his book down and stared at the brooch on Max’s collar. 

Max might have lied about being an underling, but Asahi wasn’t stupid. He knew that Max had a lot more at stake compared to any of the contestants. His desperation to win could be felt from a mile away.

“ For a serf, you’re very ambitious, “ Asahi thought to himself, gently pulling Max’s head to rest on his shoulder. “ Let’s see how far these ambitions of yours will take you. “

…

Max woke to someone tapping his shoulder. He blinked and found the white uniforms already standing.

“Wakey-wakey, Mr. Sinclaire. We’re here,” Nox said.

“We’re already here?” Max asked, and the three moved aside so he could see through the window.

Max didn’t show much of a reaction, but he was genuinely surprised. Because outside the bus stood an abandoned school building.

“This is our battleground?” he asked, still staring at the school.

“No wonder they made us wear these PE uniforms,” Asahi pointed out, which made Max realize it, too. 

After gawking at the view, the four white uniforms headed out of the bus and joined the other contestants already gathered.

A robotic female voice echoed through the speakers. “Good afternoon, contestants. Welcome to your battleground.”

Unlike earlier, there weren’t any fans or press. Everything was just quiet. Almost eerie.

Twelve contestants stood in a line as black-suited attendants walked forward with briefcases. Each opened a case and attached four targets and a gun to every contestant. The high-tech targets were attached to their left arm, right leg, back, and chest, just like Max’s first assessments.

Kingston, the advantage winner, had an extra target attached to his stomach. 

“There are at least a hundred cameras at the building in front of you, which are used to broadcast the battle nationwide. Once inside, you will have ten minutes to choose a hiding spot. Shooting is forbidden until the countdown ends. A school bell will then ring, signaling the start of the Battle Royale,” the voice explained.

Max released a breath and glanced at the other contestants. They had only shown composure earlier, but now, they all looked hungry. Determined.

Max was the same. This battle will solidify his worth. It was the best place to show everyone what he could do. So while everyone was mentally preparing themselves, Max scanned the L-shaped, four-story building. It wasn’t as large as J.S. High, but it wasn’t small either. Finding the other contestants would be difficult.

“Good luck, contestants, and let Mr. Brains & Brawn officially begin,” the voice announced right before an alarm went off.

The contestants scattered, running as fast as they could so they could get there first.

Max and his fellow white uniforms arrived faster than half of the other contestants. The rest dispersed, disappearing behind dark corridors and empty classrooms. Max noticed most of the contestants, including Kingston and his gang, ran to the higher floors.

Nox planned to do the same, but Max stopped him.

“No. Follow me,” he said.

The three hesitated, but the first to move was Asahi. Nox and Nicolás were forced to follow.

Max led the three all over the first floor, looking for the perfect spot to hide before the countdown ended. When he finally decided to enter a classroom, Nox closed the door and locked it.

“Okay…I don’t know what you’re planning, but was it necessary to run the whole floor?” Nicolás asked, catching his breath.

“Yes.” Max steadied himself and picked up a piece of chalk on the floor. The three watched as he stood in front of the blackboard. “Do you trust me?” he then asked.

No one answered. Asahi spoke for them with cold honesty. “No. We don’t know whether you plan to help us or use us. Maybe you never even planned to form an alliance from the start. Maybe you planned to trap us here and shoot us as soon as the bell rings, so why should we trust you?”

“You followed me,” Max said with a grin. “That’s a start.”

Asahi almost chuckled.

“I know this is hard, but trust isn’t given, it’s earned,” Max continued, his expression a lot more serious now. “If you don’t give me a chance to prove I’m trustworthy, we’ll all fail.”

“So you’re confident?” Asahi asked, arms crossed.

“There are twelve contestants. In my estimate, at least half will be gone within the first twenty minutes or so. After that, it’ll be us and Kingston’s group left,” Max explained.

“And you’re certain that we’ll survive within that twenty-minute timeframe?” Nox pressed.

Max looked at the white uniforms in front of him one by one and grinned. “I am. Because we’re from brotherhood houses,” Max said, his words piercing through like an arrow.

“Every second in school is a challenge. Every minute is survival. Keeping ourselves alive for twenty minutes is almost an insult.”

The three couldn’t say a thing. Something in the way Max said it persuaded them. It made them feel like they could genuinely win.

Asahi still hesitated, but eventually inhaled and nodded. “Fine, I’m in,” he said.

“I’m in too,” Nox and Nicolás answered at the same time.

Right on cue, the school bell rang. The ten-minute countdown ended, and they can now start hunting.

The four of them paused for a second, expecting someone to raise their guns and pull the trigger. A couple of seconds passed, and no one made a move. Max sighed in relief.

“Alright, while the others are busy…”

Max drew on the blackboard. While doing so, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

One of the things BND taught him was to never turn your back on anyone, but here he was doing the opposite. His back target was exposed, and three of them could easily take him down.

But Max had asked for their trust because he trusted something else: their curiosity and desperation. He knew they weren’t saints. They wouldn’t risk blind loyalty. But their curiosity about his plan and their own will to survive would keep them together.

“Here we go,” Max said after finishing the sketch.

The three white uniforms stepped forward. As soon as they saw what Max drew, they were immediately dumbfounded. 

Max had memorized and drawn an entire map of the first floor.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/573e37634636fee0b27a665dc0aca14d39ac454b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f434f566676353653774b346d5f513d3d2d313037393931313330322e313861306137313639343836643466333738353837333539313038372e706e67)               

“We ran around earlier because I needed a rough structure of the floor plan. Currently, we’re in this x mark. I chose this location as our hideout because—”

“It’s the camouflage spot,” Nicolás answered. “People tend to hide far away from the entrance, so it’s the least likely place to get searched first. It also doesn’t directly face the other building.”

Max nodded, once again reminded that the men in front of him were also trained by their very capable brotherhoods. They’re their house’s representative for a reason.

“That’s correct,” Max confirmed before circling stairs #1 and #2. “Now this one here is the key to our victory.”

“Elaborate, please,” Nox demanded, stepping up to the board.

Max tapped stair #3 and marked it with an X. “We got lucky this time around. Everyone’s on the upper floors now and is probably shooting each other as we speak. For our strategy, we’ll use a trick I’d like to call the ‘Fool’s Surprise.’ I tested it during my battle with Master Joker,” he explained.

“Fool’s surprise?” Nox, Nicolás, and Asahi asked in unison, and Max could only grin in excitement.

|END|

53 | With Honor

♜

“SOUTHEASTERN HIGH SCHOOL is eliminated. There are nine contestants left on the battlefield,” the female voice announced through the speakers around the building. It had been only about ten minutes since the bell rang, and three contestants were already out. Max’s prediction was no longer a prediction.

It was happening.

“ Are you sure he’s here? “ Max whispered to Nicolás as they crouched inside a janitor’s closet.

“ We’re looking for the guy from Highlands, right? “ Nicolás answered, and Max nodded.

“Then he’s on this floor. The other four who died were on the third floor, so Kingston and his team probably claimed the highest floor. Highlands will have no choice but to go to the second,” Nicolás explained.

After discussing the plan, Max explained the next step to the white uniforms. First, get a map. The rules never forbade stealing gear from other contestants, so they were going to steal from Highlands High, who placed second in the beauty-portion.

“It’s funny. You said advantages were useless in your interview, and now we’re stealing one,” Nicolás teased.

Max glared. “Of course I was lying. Who wouldn’t want an advantage?”

Nicolás almost laughed before spotting movement. “There!” he hissed, pointing down the hall. The Highlands contestant crouched inside a classroom at the end near stairs #1. 

“ Looks like he’s flying solo. “

Nicolás was about to rush out, but Max grabbed his sleeve. “He might not be alone. That’s just what he wants us to think. Remember, there are nine contestants left. Four of us, three in Kingston’s group, and two others who likely teamed up.”

“So what now?”

Max scanned the closet. A mop bucket, powdered soap, and wax sat on a shelf. The organizers left strange items all around the abandoned building for the contestants to use. Max smiled like a kid planning mischief.

“Can’t believe my senses have shrunk to Jokers’ prank level,” he murmured, then dumped soap and wax into the bucket and mixed.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nicolás asked. 

Max didn’t even have to answer. Nicolás was already looking for something sharp.

Nicolás opened a cabinet and found a pair of garden shears. As soon as Max was done with the concoction, Nicolás carved a hole in the bottom of the rolling bucket and kicked it into the hallway. Soapy water streamed out, slicking the floor.

The two stepped out of the closet.

“Make noise,” Max told Nicolás, and Nicolás slammed a classroom door.

The Highlands contestant bolted out. He leveled his gun at them and fired. “Careful, he’s got an extra twelve bullets!” Nicolás yelled as he ducked and ran, while Max slid behind lockers.

The Highlands contestant followed, and as expected, slipped on the soaped floor. As he went down, Max opened fire and splattered three of his targets except the one on his back. 

Max prepared for contact, but then red paint splattered on the target on his chest.

“Shit…” He quickly pressed his back against the wall and looked up. There, he saw contestant number four from Rose Valley hanging from the ceiling pipes, grinning like a lunatic.

“They’re not a team!” Max shouted.

“God, you just made my life easier! I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to attack. Thank you so fucking much for the assist!” the ceiling-hanger laughed before nailing Highlands’ last target. 

He then dropped, took Highlands’ gun, and vaulted down the hallway.

Max and Nicolás fired at contestant no. 4, hitting two of his targets before he got away.

Max cursed before running to the fallen Highlands contestant. He snatched the map tucked in the hem of his pants and checked it. After memorizing what he could in case the map gets taken from them, he looked down at the eliminated student and offered a hand.

“You okay?” he asked, surprising him.

The eliminated contestant rubbed his elbow, accepted the hand, and got up. “Good luck,” he said instead, then limped toward the fire exit.

“Highlands High has been eliminated. There are eight contestants left on the battlefield,” the voice declared. Max clenched his fist and checked his chest. The red paint mark stung. Compared to their training, this one hurt more. Thankfully, BND shot him so many times he’d gotten used to it.

“You got hit too?” Nicolás asked, and Max noticed the red paint on both his leg and arm targets. He must have gotten them when the contestant from Highlands High opened fire.

“He looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he shoots well,” Nicolás said, nodding at the map Max held. “But we got what we came for, so it’s not a total loss.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

The two headed back to their temporary base. When they arrived, the room was empty. Nicolás walked to the front and was about to spread the map on the teacher’s table when the door swung open.

Asahi walked in with an injured Nox.

“What happened?” Max asked before spotting Nox’s targets. Three were already shot. Only the leg target survived. Asahi, on the other hand, was shot in the back.

“W-we…we followed your plan. We found…K-Kingston’s location, but they outshot us,” Asahi tried to explain while panting heavily.

Nicolás and Max quickly took Nox from Asahi. They helped Nox, who winced as they sat him down. “One of those bastards shoved me off the stairs. Thought I was done for, but Asahi helped me.”

Asahi steadied himself and looked at the two. “They were hiding in a faculty room on the fourth floor. But I’m sure they’re going to change locations now since we saw them.”

Max nodded and clamped a hand on Asahi’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said to him.

“The contestant from Rose Valley will keep them busy. We still have time. Besides, I know Kingston. He’s got a big ego. The other two can make up a clever plan, but he definitely wouldn’t agree to it.”

“But what if they’re already coming here?” Nox asked.

Max shook his head. “I purposely acted confident earlier to make Kingston cautious. If he wanted to ambush us, he’d have done it by now. Plus, Kingston and Gengxin have advantages. They’ll plan something around it.”

Asahi nodded to agree. “The problem with advantages is that you overthink the plan. They won’t act recklessly with extra bullets and a map.”

“Well then, if you guys are this confident, then I have no other choice but to believe you,” Nox said, rubbing his injured ankle.

Max sighed at the state he was in. He approached Nox, and to their surprise, turned around and showed him his targets.

“W-What are you—”

“Shoot my targets,” Max said. “I’d give you my targets if I could, but each one is connected to the user. It’s my fault you lost three lives. It’s because of my plan that you only have one left, so shoot me. You could leave only one if you’d like. Or nothing at all. Anything is fine by me. It’s the only way I could repay you.”

Nox stared at the unmarked targets around Max’s body.

“You’d let me shoot you? Just like that?” Nox asked.

Max nodded seriously.

Nox couldn’t say anything. He gritted his teeth and lifted his gun, pointing it at Max. Max closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but then he heard the white uniform sigh.

“No,” Nox said, dropping his weapon. “If I win because of this, I’d be too ashamed to go back to my house. I don’t need pity, Max. Like what you said, we’re from brotherhood houses. It will take more than this to put us down.”

 “Very well,” Max said, turning back around.

“If everyone’s ready, let’s start planning.”

Nicolás laid the stolen map flat on the teacher’s table, and everyone gathered around it.

“They have no generator room listed. Our best bet is the old electrical room near the cafeteria, and the Science lab’s on the third floor,” Max pointed. “At the entrance, there was a notice that the school would officially close down on March 12, 2004. That means the school used an old model generator that still relies on gas. If we can move that generator to the hallway beside stairs #3 and then use lab chemicals to start a fire—”

“Boom! Generator explodes, hallway’s blocked, building section destroyed,” Nicolás finished with a grin.

“Exactly.” Max mapped the plan out, pointing to stair #1 again.

“What’s the point of all this?” Asahi asked.

Max removed the tarpaulin they used to cover the blackboard, revealing his sketch. He grabbed the chalk and began putting in the additional details.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/1786f70ec14ae49d88c990ff083d7392797b2919/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5359717a4c494d534134746a54673d3d2d313038303739343338312e313861306164656638363864316466313938353638303630313336362e706e67)               

“We have two bombs: one that does real damage, and another that produces a sound that’s convincing enough to pass as the first one. The real bomb will be placed near stairs #3, and the dummy bomb at stairs #2.

We’ll detonate the real one first, and the dummy bomb will follow right after, giving the illusion that both stairs are no longer accessible. This will force the contestant to use stairs #1.

Nicolás is our strongest, so he’ll get the generator and bring it to our first point, while Nox and I head to the Science Lab,“ Max explained.

Besides his physical training, BND honed his technical knowledge too. They taught him how to make fire with just sticks and stones, and even how to hold his breath for more than five minutes. This knowledge also extends to him making bombs using the most unconventional ingredients, which is now a very handy skill.

“Do I help Nicolás?” Asahi asked, noticing that Max hadn’t included him in the plan yet.

“Well, your role is a bit more complex,” Max answered. “While we handle both bombs…we need you to join Kingston’s group.”

“What?” all three asked in unison.

“You need to make it look like you betrayed us. It’s also very important that you tell them our plan, except for the part where the other bomb is a dummy. You’ll stall them just until we set everything up,” Max explained, and Asahi looked at the serf and tried to think of a rational explanation for why he’d agree to such a thing.

The role was risky. Asahi could just show himself and get eliminated before he could say or do anything. For this to work, Asahi needed to fully trust Max’s instincts, which he was starting to find difficult.

“I get that Nicolás is the strongest. He’s the only one who could lift the generator. Nox has one target left, and you need to make the other bomb. But why is it that I, the person who still has most of his targets, get to be thrown to the enemy?” Asahi pointed out. “What makes you think they’ll believe me?”

“They’ll believe you because you look like a good liar,” Max immediately answered, catching Asahi off guard.

“I look like a good…liar?” Asahi repeated. And for the first time since the competition started, Asahi cracked a smile. Max couldn’t tell what it meant, but he hoped it would lean in his favor.

“You really think I’ll risk myself for you?” Asahi then asked.

Max stared at him, hands reaching out to touch BND’s brooch. He wanted to explain his reasoning, but he knew that no words would be enough. So, for his last desperate attempt to make Asahi trust him, the young heir swallowed his pride and bowed.

Everyone in the room froze.

In the past year, representatives of J.S. High have always been the most manipulative and prideful. Asahi and the others expected the same trait, but looking at Max now, they realized that they had made a mistake.

Max was different. For a while, they humored him and watched how he’d control the situation. They followed his plans because they assumed he’d eventually break character. But now, as Max bowed in front of them, all doubts had vanished. 

“I only have one goal, and that is to bring honor to my house,” Max said, staring at the ground. “I make moves, draw plans, and form alliances with that in mind. The people who trained me told me to never betray others for victory. Until my journey here ends, I will follow that principle.”

The three looked at each other, unable to say anything. 

Max waited for a response, or maybe even a reaction. He waited for Asahi to say something, but instead, he forced Max to stand. 

“Shoot the target on my arm,” Asahi suddenly demanded. “I’m not sure if they’re dumb enough to believe me, but I’ll take the map. You saw me stealing it and opened fire, and that’s when I got shot.”

Max placed his finger on the trigger of his gun. “Are you sure?” he asked. And as soon as Asahi nodded, Max shot his arm without warning, almost making Asahi lose balance.

“Was that necessary?!” Nox exclaimed, shocked at how fast Max had acted.

“It’s to make it more believable,” Max said. “No hard feelings.”

Asahi, holding his aching arm, tried to relax his muscles. “N-None taken.”

Max and Asahi smiled at each other before continuing with the plan.

“Alright, now that that’s settled, let’s finalize the last leg of our plan. Once the bombs are placed, and Asahi has successfully joined their group, we’ll detonate the bombs. Asahi will then lead them to stairs #1 and slip out so we can ambush them on the first floor.”

Nox repeated it, eyes bright. “So we surround them at stairs #1 while Asahi uses stairs #2, appears from behind and ends it.”

“Hopefully,” Max admitted, and the three exchanged impressed looks.

“Asahi, any questions before you go?” Max asked.

“Aside from potentially getting eliminated, do you have a plan B in case this goes south?”

Max considered it for a second before shaking his head. “I mean, if all things fail, we do what we do best…go savage and hope for the best. Brotherhood style.”

Asahi almost laughed, then nodded. “If I end up losing because of this, the payment will be heavy, Max Sinclaire. Remember that.” He said, steadying himself and grabbing the map before running out of the room to find Kingston and his group.

“We should go too,” Nox said, forcing himself to walk. But as soon as he took a step, the pain from his injured ankle caused him to lose balance. “S-Shit…” he grabbed onto a chair, gritting his teeth. “This stupid injury.”

“Okay, I think it’s best if you stay here. Wait for us while we—”

“No,” Nox retorted. “I will not stay and hide here while you guys are risking yourselves. I’ll come with you to the Science Lab. I might not be much help, but I can distract the others if they ever find us there.”

Max stared at Nox, waiting for him to waver. But Nox only looked determined, and Max knew nothing he could say would change his mind.

“Fine. Sit and give me your feet,” Max ordered.

Nox frowned but sat. Max then handed him an old textbook. “Bite down. I’m going to set your ankle so you can walk for at least thirty minutes.”

“Is that even possible?” Nox asked while Max knelt in front of him. He removed Nox’s shoe…then tugged and massaged the ankle with precise, urgent motions. Nox clamped down on the book and gritted his teeth.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Nicolás muttered.

“Alright, you’re good,” Max said after a minute. Nox spat out the book, stood, and flexed his ankle. Surprisingly enough, the pain had lessened.

“Y-you’re insane,” Nox said, now grinning. “But I guess geniuses are usually insane.”

Nox slipped his shoe on, and Max checked the board and looked back at the two white uniforms. “Ready?”

Nicolás and Nox exchanged a look and nodded. “Let’s go.”

|END|

54 | Winner Takes All

♜

MAX AND NOX WERE on the third floor, hiding behind a door as they cautiously approached the laboratory. Nicolás was already handling the generator, while Asahi had already gone to where Kingston and the others were.

“Rose Valley Academy is eliminated. There were seven contestants left on the battlefield,” the female voice suddenly announced, making Nox and Max look at each other in shock.

“Okay, we seriously gotta move,” Nox said as he and Max ran and hid behind another door.

“There’s the lab, come on,” Max said before sprinting to room 302, where the science lab was supposed to be.

As soon as Max saw the inside, he couldn’t help but smile. The laboratory was filled with chemicals and equipment. At first, he had thought it would be empty since the school was abandoned, but Max had a hunch it wouldn’t be, considering this was Mr. Brains & Brawn, and using your brain mattered.

“You could train your body for a year, but strength isn’t always everything,” Max said, immediately running to the chemicals to concoct their homemade explosives.

Nox positioned himself at the entrance and gripped his gun to stand guard. “So BND taught you all this?”

“They did. Half of them taught me how to fight, while the other half taught me how to survive in these types of situations,” Max explained, a smile slipping out as he remembered all the training he went through with them.

“BND knew that most contestants would rely on their strength, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to level my skill with theirs. I’m not a great fighter, but my strategies would make up for it. I’m just glad you guys were there to bridge the gaps I couldn’t reach,” Max said with confidence, and Nox couldn’t help but look at him with admiration.

Nox believed Max would be an arrogant heir who thought he’d win no matter what, but when he met him, everything changed. Max was confident, yet there were times he was unsure. Even with such uncertainty, he didn’t waver, and that attitude was the reason Nox trusted him.

“You know, we’re already down to seven contestants. This is the farthest the House of Rooks has ever been in this competition,” Nox revealed.

“We’re usually the first to die, that’s why our representatives are chosen at random. We don’t take it as seriously as the others,” Nox suddenly shared while still looking out at the corridor.

“Besides the House of Pawns, we’re considered the lowest house. During previous battles, the other houses saw us as burdens and would usually use us as bait.” Nox drew a breath and turned to Max. “But you…you said we’re  brotherhood houses. You made me feel like I’m important too.”

Max slowly looked up, and a soft smile appeared when he saw how glassy Nox’s eyes had become.

“As pretentious or performative this may sound to you. But Max, you represented your house well. Because of you, I realized why J.S. High deserves to hold the title of kings,” Nox said, and Max felt something tug his chest.

He wasn’t expecting such high praise. And in that moment, he remembered why he was even there. 

Max wasn’t just a white uniform desperate to win. He represented J.S High. And at the end of it all, his victory wouldn’t just be for the House of Kings but for all the brotherhood houses.

“I—” Max was about to say something when they suddenly heard the sound of shooting getting closer.

“Shit, they’re already here,” Nox said, peeking through the door’s glass before looking back at Max. “I’ll head to where they are and give you more time. We’ll make sure you’ll finish that bomb of yours.”

Max wanted to disagree, but instead he said, “Wait…”

Nox didn’t answer, and Max resumed making something. After about a minute, he ran to Nox and handed him a test tube. “Throw this. It will create a smoke bomb. Just make sure to cover your mouth, you got it?”

Nox took the tube and nodded. “Thank you,” he said as he opened the door. Before leaving, he looked back at Max and suddenly recited the House of Rooks’ motto. “ Look straight ahead ,“ he told him.

Max was surprised for a second, then smiled and bowed his head. “Look straight ahead.”

Nox finally headed out and ran down the hall toward the sound of gunfire. While running, he looked at his gun and then threw it away. The truth was, he had no bullets left after earlier skirmishes. He hadn’t told Max because he knew Max would have given some of his.

“I have to at least take one of those bastards down before I fall. I will carry my house’s name with pride till the very end. You hear me, House of Rooks?! I’ll make you proud!” Nox shouted at the CCTV cameras.

As he turned a corner, he arrived where Kingston and the others were. Without wasting time, Nox threw the test tube Max had given him and shouted, “Suck on this, you motherfuckers!”

…

Max finished the explosives just in time. He gathered everything he needed and sprinted down the hallway toward stairs #2, praying that Nicolás was able to get the generator in time.

“Westminster College is eliminated. There are six contestants left on the battlefield,” a female voice announced while Max was running.

Max smiled briefly at the news, but the voice added shortly after, “Roland’s School for Boys is eliminated. There are five contestants left on the battlefield.”

He couldn’t say much, but he took a deep breath and kept running. Nox had sacrificed himself so he could finish the fake bomb. Now he had to make sure that the sacrifice wasn’t wasted.

When he reached the second-floor landing, Max hid his fake explosive to the side, lit the long fuse with a match, and prepared to move. “I have at least a minute and a half before this explodes,” he murmured, then ran down the stairs toward the hallway where Nicolás guarded the generator.

“Nicolás!” Max shouted when he spotted him. Nicolás stood by the generator like a guard, having sprinkled fuel around to ensure it would ignite.

“Turn it on!” Max yelled.

Nicolás nodded and pulled the starter, but the generator didn’t immediately roar. He cursed and tried pulling it a couple more times before a figure appeared behind him.

Max’s eyes widened. Gengxin from Lincoln International High School had slipped up behind Nicolás and begun shooting. Nicolás paused for a moment, but instead of defending himself, he continued pulling the starter.

“Nicolás! Run!” Max screamed, but Nicolás kept at it. Finally, with one powerful pull, the generator started. 

Gengxin fired and hit Nicolás’s last target, but before he could aim at Max, Nicolás yelled, “Fire it up!”

Max stopped in his tracks. Gengxin had a clearer shot at his targets, but when he saw Max light the match, he bolted back upstairs.

“Run now!” Max shouted as Nicolás dashed for the exit.

Once Max was sure Nicolás escaped safely, he threw the lit match and fled from the rigged generator. He dove into an empty classroom and covered his ears. 

There was silence for a second.

And then the generator detonated with a terrifying boom.

Max froze as his ears rang violently. Memories of the greenhouse explosion came rushing back to him. He remembered the heat and the blood on Red. Even though Max was at a safe distance, he couldn’t help but tremble.

Few people knew about Max’s bomb-related trauma. He hadn’t told Asahi, Nox, or Nicolás, but that was the only way they could secure victory. So despite his fears, he needed to push through.

Max panted amid the rubble when the female voice announced, “D & F High School is eliminated. There are four contestants left on the battlefield.”

Max inhaled deeply, touched BND’s brooch, and forced his nerves to steady. “Nox…Nicolás…I have to move. I can’t let their sacrifice go to waste. There are still a few rats we need to trap,” he told himself as he ran away from the fire.

[At the Adandoned School Building , 3rd Floor]

Kingston returned to the third floor and was about to approach stairs #3 when a deafening explosion struck, making his knees weak and causing him to fall.

“Son of a—”

His ears rang. Kingston had to shake off the shock and sprint to stairs #2. As Max had predicted, another blast followed, disorienting him further.

“What the hell is that Asahi fucker doing?! He said he’d handle those bombs!” Kingston roared before turning to use the last available stairs.

Max had planned the explosions to force anyone upstairs to flee downward in fear of the floors collapsing. In truth, there had been one real blast and a convincing fake, which was enough to panic but not destroy the building.

Kingston, thinking stairs #3 and #2 were out, eventually reached the second floor, where he bumped into Gengxin.

“You idiot! What happened down there?!” Kingston demanded. Kingston still had four targets. Gengxin, who had been hit earlier, now had only two left.

“Tsukumo Asahi told me to handle the guy on the first floor, but—”

“It didn’t work out?” Max asked sarcastically as he stepped out from the shadows and aimed his gun at Kingston. Before he could fire, Kingston grabbed Gengxin and shoved him toward Max, selfishly using him as a human shield.

“See you later, Sinclaire!” Kingston exclaimed as he made his escape.

Max quickly dodged as Gengxin hurled towards him, causing Gengxin to lose balance and fall to the ground.

While Gengxin was still stunned by the betrayal, Max used the moment to shoot his remaining targets with ease. “It’s good to know that even after a year, he’s still an asshole,” Max muttered before helping Gengxin to his feet. “You okay?”

Gengxin didn’t reply.

Max checked his ammo. He had started with twelve bullets earlier, and now he only had three. It was a problem because Kingston still had four targets left thanks to the advantage he got.

Max forced the thought aside and pursued Kingston, but Gengxin suddenly grabbed his arm and offered him a gun.

“I still have five bullets. Use them,” Gengxin said.

“Why?” was the only question Max could ask.

Gengxin considered for a beat, then said, “Everything you’ve done so far… it was genius. You deserve the title of Mr. Brains & Brawn.”

Max found himself speechless, but he still managed a smile. He took Gengxin’s gun and transferred the bullets, giving him eight total. He nodded to Gengxin in thanks and hurried after Kingston.

“Lincoln International High School is eliminated. There are three contestants left on the battlefield.”

Kingston reached the first floor and thought he was trapped. He tried to hide in a room, but Max had made sure Nicolás locked the doors before they departed. 

Panic set in, and Max eventually caught up, appearing behind Kingston thanks to the other stairs that were actually still accessible.

“Looks like we meet again, Kingston Creed. Still picking on the weak, I assume?” Max taunted, and Kingston spun to point his gun at him. Max still had three targets intact.

“You’re talking big now, huh? Did you forget you wouldn’t even be here without your uncle? Everything you have is thanks to your family, so don’t act special,” Kingston sneered, trying to provoke him.

“Wow, so original. Any new insults, Creed? I’d love to hear more about your opinion of my family and me,” Max shot back.

 Kingston’s laughter echoed down the empty hallway.

“Want something new? Then let’s talk about your precious J.S. High. You get publicity because you act like savages and call it brotherhood. Nothing about your school is admirable. You’re mere entertainment for those who enjoy such stupidity,” Kingston spat, trying to keep control.

“Whoa, you’re way under pressure right now, Kingston,” Max observed before taking a step forward.

Kingston flinched and retreated. 

His reaction caught Max’s attention. Kingston was obviously faster. He could start shooting now, and he’d be able to hit all of Max’s targets before Max could. But for some reason, he wasn’t pulling the trigger.

“Don’t tell me…” A smirk slowly appeared on Max’s face. “You don’t have enough bullets now, don’t you? Even with all those advantages, you still managed to fuck it up,” Max mocked, and Kingston’s face reddened.

Kingston looked around to escape, but Max was now blocking the stairwell that he thought was the only accessible one.

“Some people just don’t change, do they?” Max said, and without missing a beat, he opened fire. Kingston’s body instinctively froze as Max shot his leg, arm, and stomach targets. 

Max was so fast that Kingston hadn’t realized what had happened.

“W-What…” Kingston looked down at his marked targets. Now, only his back target remained, guarded fiercely.

“Okay, let’s see if my physical training paid off,” Max said, tucking his gun into his pants before charging.

Kingston immediately threw a kick, but Max expected the move. He grabbed Kingston’s leg, swung him aside, and slammed him against the lockers. Kingston hit the floor, exposing his back target.

Max got ready to fire, but Kingston recovered fast. He swept Max’s feet and pulled him down on the floor with him.  He then went on top of the white uniform, trying to rip the gun from Max’s waistband, but found it almost impossible thanks to Max’s struggle. 

The two wrestled, and Kingston finally used his last two bullets to shoot two of Max’s targets.

“Y-you think you’re strong, Sinclaire?” Kingston panted, tossing his gun away as he tried to snatch Max’s.

Max, winded and aching, stared him down. “I’m strong because I have people supporting me, unlike you. You shouldn’t have sacrificed Gengxin earlier, after all he did. You dare mock our houses when you don’t even know the first meaning of brotherhood—”

Kingston laughed, then landed a gut-punch on Max before finally stealing his gun. He stood over Max with a savage grin and pointed the weapon at him. Each man had one target left, both on their backs.

“What do you know about brotherhood, you selfish fuck? Asahi betrayed you. When I asked him to shoot that Nox guy, he didn’t even hesitate. Is that brotherhood to you?” Kingston snarled, preparing to flip Max and shoot.

Max’s stomach burned from the punch. Kingston thought he had won, but then Max drew a breath and grinned.

“What do I know about brotherhood? Don’t fuck with me, Creed. Our houses practically invented the word brotherhood,” Max said, looking behind Kingston.

Kingston was about to turn, but Asahi, having escaped via stairs #3, appeared and aimed at Kingston’s back target. Without saying a word, he fired.

Kingston’s eyes went wide as the female voice announced, “Westberg Academy is eliminated. There are two contestants left on the battlefield.”

“Y-you…you lied to me,” Kingston told Asahi, stunned.

“No, you’re just gullible,” Asahi replied. 

Max rose from the floor, snatched his gun back from Kingston, and smiled. “Oh, lighten up. At least you won the beauty portion.”

Kingston turned to Max in anger. He was about to throw a punch when two men arrived in time to pull him away to the exit. Kingston yelled. The sight made Max laugh. But when he glanced at Asahi, Asahi was already pointing his gun at him.

Max smiled and inclined his head.

“Looks like we made it to the finish line,” Max said, reloading his gun.

“The brain and the brawn,” Asahi replied with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, they only need one winner, so let’s show those bastards what a real battle looks like. Let’s show them how wrong they are for looking down on our brotherhood houses,” Max said with determination. 

“You never learn to shut up, do you?” Asahi said before he suddenly fired his gun without warning.

Max pulled the trigger right after, and the sound from the blast echoed in the empty abandoned building. The two were panting heavily from the adrenaline. Max felt the sting on his chest, immediately checking the state of his target. The sight of the red mark almost made him panic, but then he realized…

The target that was still unmarked…was on his back.

“Y-you…”

“Payback for the one you gave me in my arm earlier. I know I said to shoot me for the plan’s sake, but you could have at least given me a heads up before pulling the trigger,” Asahi said, tossing his gun away.

“That was my last bullet.”

“Are you stupid? You hit the wrong target!” Max exclaimed. “The one you needed to shoot was—”

“I know,” Asahi cut in, leaving Max stunned. “I never really cared about this pageant. I saw no benefit in it whatsoever. But as I watched you make your moves with precision and wit, I said to myself, ’ Ah, so this is the person Mr. Brains & Brawn was made for’ .”

“ Asahi… “

“It was a pleasure to serve the great House of Kings,” Asahi said, touching his chest to reveal the target that Max had successfully shot. He then bowed, a sight that left the serf completely speechless. “Bring glory to our brotherhood houses, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.”

Max watched in awe. He felt tears in his eyes, but he held them in, forcing a smile. “Thank you. The House of Kings will surely repay this debt.”

Asahi chuckled. “ I’ll count on it. “

“St. George Academy has now been eliminated,” the voice echoed. “The 19th winner of Mr. Brains and Brawn is…J.S. High!”

|END|

55 | Crowning the Victor

♜

“ST. GEORGE ACADEMY HAS  now been eliminated. The 19th winner of Mr. Brains and Brawn is…J.S. High!” they announced, and the entire auditorium went completely still.

The students of J.S High stared at the screen with disbelief. Despite their passionate desire to win earlier, the outcome was not what they expected.

No one could utter a single word. No one other than Aristotle Faulkner.

“J.S. High won! Beat that, you preppy motherfuckers!” Ari’s voice cut through the silence, standing on his seat with his arms raised high. And as if something had triggered the audience, everyone finally cheered.

Felix and Ervin looked at their friend and laughed before going in for a group hug, celebrating Max’s victory.

Black and White uniforms alike pumped their fists in the air. Peake caps were thrown to the ceiling like it was graduation. Some were even jumping up and down in excitement.

Members of BND got up from their seats and began congratulating each other, sharing warm embraces and words of affirmation. Jokers and Crazy 8 joined in, patting the dukes’ backs for a job well done.

While everyone was cheering for their house’s victory, the royals sat silently in their seats. Viktor watched the broadcast that began showing clips of Max during the battle.

“ What a terrifying boy, “ Viktor whispered under his breath before draping his arm around the shoulders of the man sitting beside him, Kim Hee-joon. “Don’t you agree, my prince?”

Hee-joon sighed, watching the recap as well.

“I usually wouldn’t care about such useless competitions, but that boy…he raised the flag of our great house with pride—something that a white uniform has never done before. As a brotherhood member, I am thankful,” Hee-joon explained, making Viktor laugh.

“So, do you approve of him now?” Viktor asked.

Hee-joon didn’t answer, and Viktor decided to let it go. He then turned his head to the right and looked straight at Vice President Gavriil, who was sitting just across the aisle where the white uniforms were.

As their eyes met, Viktor smirked, almost sadistically, and said, “Make no mistake, my dear vice president. If you keep running away, you’ll end up right where you left off.”

Gavriil didn’t show Viktor any reaction, but he angrily gripped the armrest before quickly standing from his seat. “If you may excuse me, my king,” he said instead, bowing at Viktor and walking away.

Viktor chuckled and looked back at the screen. Max’s face appeared, and the grin on his face slowly faded. “You’ve got to climb faster, Sinclaire,” he muttered as he reached for the crown brooch on his collar. “If you don’t, you’ll end up sitting on an occupied throne.”

…

Max walked out of the battlegrounds with Asahi following beside him. Earlier, there hadn’t been any people waiting for them there, but as soon as they stepped out of the building, flashes blinded them. 

“Congratulations, Max! Any message to the people who witnessed your victory?!” one of the reporters shouted, practically shoving his microphone on Max’s face.

“Maximilian! How do you feel at the moment?”

“Did you expect to win, or was it all luck?”

“How long did you prepare for this competition?!”

The reporters swarmed the victor, throwing question after question as if their lives depended on it. Asahi almost got trampled, so Max grabbed his hand and pulled him closer in an attempt to protect him.

Just in time, guards from the Brains & Brawn organization arrived, shoving the reporters away to give Max and Asahi space to move.

“A press conference will be held at the Athena Theater, as well as the official coronation. We request that you ask your questions there,” one of the men in suits announced.

Asahi, who was safely standing beside Max, leaned towards his ear and whispered, “ I’m going to loathe seeing your face all over the news tomorrow. “

Max chuckled but didn’t say anything as he and Asahi were finally escorted back to their bus. All the contestants were waiting inside, along with medics who were checking up on everyone.

When they spotted the two remaining contenders, the contestants began to cheer. Now that the competition had ended, there was no point in acting like enemies anymore. At the end of the day, everyone knew that they all did their best.

And that’s what mattered the most.

“Congratulations, Sinclaire,” the contestant from Rose Valley High said.

“You were amazing,” another contestant added.

Max continued to receive their praise as he made his way back to their seat. Even Gengxin and Magnus, who didn’t look as enthusiastic as the others, still called out for Max to give them their congratulations.

“Looks like you’re perfectly fine,” Max overheard a medic tell Kingston, who had been looking out of the window with his arms crossed.

Max wanted to ignore him, but he sighed and stopped in front of the 2nd-runner up. All the contestants turned their attention to the two of them, curious about what they would do.

Kingston tried to avoid his gaze like a child, so Max smiled and offered a hand. “I didn’t know Westberg Academy had students who had guts like yours,” Max said. “You did a good job, Kingston Creed. It was a pleasure to battle with you.”

The bus fell into silence.

They all waited for Kingston’s reply, but he remained stubborn. Max nodded and put his hand down. He was about to turn away when Kingston suddenly looked back at him and said, “I still hate you and your school to death.”

“What?”

“But congratulations on being the new Mr. Brains & Brawn,” Kingston added. “Your victory was well deserved.”

Everyone was surprised by the display of sportsmanship. Even Max began to laugh. 

“Thank you. And congratulations to you, too, Creed,” Max replied, and Kringston rolled his eyes, looking out the window again. Even after all that, Kingston was still Kingston.

“There will still be more chances for us to prove ourselves, so don’t be so complacent, Sinclaire,” Kingston said.

Max nodded before finally heading back to their seat, where the other white uniforms were waiting. While Asahi was getting treated by the medics, Nox and Nicolás got up and practically tackled Max as they ran to his side.

“That’s what I’m talking about! You actually won, you fucking bastard!” Nox exclaimed.

“Honestly, it didn’t really matter who won in the end since both you and Asahi are from brotherhood houses, but I’m glad the House of Kings took the final victory. It’s symbolic in a way,” Nicolás added.

Max gave a sincere smile before reaching out to squeeze their shoulders. “It’s our victory,” he told them. “If it weren’t for the three of you, I wouldn’t have won, so thank you. Really.”

Nox and Nicolás looked at each other with surprise. Even Asahi, who was eavesdropping, tried not to laugh at how sentimental Max had become.

“Oh shut up,” Asahi interjected. “That’s not what a winner should say. At least pretend to be boastful for once. You’re from the House of Kings, for crying out loud.”

Max, surprised at Asahi’s bluntness, looked at Nox and Nicolás for backup. But Nox, who was suppressing a laugh, couldn’t contain it any longer and began laughing. Nicolás followed suit. Max watched the two and had no choice but to join in.

“Congratulations, white uniforms,” Asahi said, smiling.

Medics did final check-ups on Max and the other contestants. And as they drove back to Athena Theater, everyone began sharing stories of their battle. They shared strategies, initial plans, and decisions they could have done differently.

Gengxin ranted about Kingston’s betrayal, causing the others to laugh because it was the only time he showed so much emotion. While Asahi revealed that he shot Nox, not because Kingston told him to, but because Nox gave him a signal.

Everyone was impressed because even in those crucial moments, the two still managed to show a perfect display of brotherhood.

Max listened to everyone attentively, agreeing with others and even adding his own thoughts and opinions on the topic. It was a delightful yet strange sight. Max had no idea what Mr. Brains & Brawn was a month ago, but now he was coming home as a champion.

He’d lie if he said he didn’t find the whole thing ridiculous, but now, seeing how much the other contestants have prepared for the event, Max regretted not being involved in it sooner.

Max had been focused on their family business and conquering the brotherhoods that he had overlooked the other things that make school life fun. If he hadn’t enrolled in J.S. High, he wouldn’t have participated in this event and met all these passionate and dedicated people.

This was definitely one of those moments he’ll never forget.

“You seem happy,” Asahi—the boy sitting beside Max—said while Nox and the others continued their debate regarding kicks or punches.

“I just won Mr. Brains and Brawn. Why wouldn’t I be?” Max answered.

“You have a point,” he said. “But now that you mention it, allow me to give you a congratulatory present.”

Max looked at Asahi, his brows furrowing in confusion. “A present? What do you mean?”

Asahi glanced around to make sure that no one was listening. When the coast was clear, he leaned closer to Max’s ear and whispered, “A huge storm is about to fall upon our great houses .”

Max’s eyes widened. Before he could ask what that meant, Asahi pulled away and added, “You told me earlier that your house will surely pay this debt. I hope that when the time comes, you won’t forget that promise.”

Max wanted to ask more, but then the bus stopped. He looked out the window and realized that they had arrived at the Athena Theater, where the Beauty portion had been held earlier. The press was also waiting, along with fans and onlookers who wanted to get a closer look at the contestants.

As the bus parked in front of the theater, the crowd immediately swarmed around it like flies, hoping to get the best possible shot. 

The contestants did a quick retouch, and one by one, they stepped out of the bus with bright, practiced smiles. Gengxin, Kingston, and Asahi were called first before Max finally stepped out.

As soon as Max appeared in front of the crowd, the flash and click of cameras doubled. Reporters shouted his name, while fans pulled out their phones, hoping to capture a rare photo of the young heir.

Guards stepped in and escorted them into the theater, allowing the contestants to safely enter the auditorium where the sponsors, who had also watched the pageant live, were already waiting and cheering.

“The third runner-up, Lincoln High School, Li Gengxin!” a voice announced as Gengxin made his way inside, his face still cold as if he hadn’t just placed fourth in one of the most anticipated competitions in the country.

“The second runner-up, Westberg Academy, Kingston Creed!” they announced next as the cheers grew louder. Even though things hadn’t ended the way he wanted, Kingston still wore his signature smile as he waved to the crowd like the winner that he was.

“Now for the first runner-up, St. George Academy…Asahi Tsukumo!”

Earlier, during the beauty portion, Asahi kept his expression neutral. But now, he was smiling at the crowd, proud to have won a title for the House of Bishops.

The other contestants took their seats in the front row, while the three runner-ups proceeded to the stage to join the president of Mr. Brains & Brawn’s Organization.

“Now, for the 19th winner of Mr. Brains and Brawns,” the host said, and everyone in the audience got up from their seats to get a better view. Even Nox and the other contestants couldn’t help but smile in excitement.

 “Please, let us give a big round of applause to…Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire of J.S. High!”

The entire auditorium erupted into applause and cheers as Max finally stepped inside. He smiled and held onto his brooch, mentally thanking the members of BND for helping him achieve such a title. 

“Congrats, Max!” some of the contestants shouted as he made his way to the stage, joining the others.

The crowd slowly settled as the president of the organization stepped forward to give his closing remarks. The name Jonathan O’Brien flashed on the screen as he stood in front of the podium, adjusting the microphone before showing teeth.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted. “Today marks another end to Mr. Brains & Brawn. I have been fortunate enough to be the president of this competition for the past 10 years, yet I am continuously amazed by the skills, wit, and intelligence of the students whom we have the pleasure to host.

This year has been one of our most awaited competition yet, thanks to our powerhouse contestants, so please, everyone, give them all a round of applause,“ Mr. Jonathan said as the crowd cheered on cue.

“I know that everyone worked tirelessly to get the title, but of course, only the lucky ones get to take home the crown,” he continued before two men in suits rose from their seats.

“Before I call on our champions, let us first welcome the 18th winner and the first runner-up for Mr. Brains and Brawns, Mr. Trương Ngọc Tình of Westberg Academy and Mr. Kongnat Choeisuwan of Westminster College!”

The two men joined him on stage, waving to the crowd, who were obviously fans as well. 

“Alright, contestants, as I call your name, please step forward as Mr. Trương  and Mr. Choeisuwan hand over your sash and badge.”

One by one, the runner-ups were called forward as the previous titleholders placed the sashes over their shoulders and pinned the badges onto their chests. They shared congratulations and firm handshakes until the winner was finally called.

“Finally, we once again present to you the champion for this year’s Mr. Brains and Brawn, from the incredible house of J.S. High…Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire!”

The crowd cheered as Max stepped forward with a smile.

“Congratulations,” last year’s champion said as he placed the sash on Max and pinned the badge, making his title official.

“It’s going to be a bit bumpy, but enjoy the ride,” Trương advised.

Max looked at his sash, his adrenaline on a high. It still felt surreal.

“Thank you.”

“Once again, our winner, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire!”

The crowd cheered, and the ceremony ended shortly after. As announced earlier, the four winners were seated at a long table for the press conference, which was still being broadcast live.

Questions were immediately thrown at the contestants, the reporters wasting no time to get the juiciest answers they could get.

Kingston was asked about how he felt after failing to take home the crown after the back-to-back wins. Gengxin was also asked about his training and how he was going to celebrate the victory when he got back to their school. Such questions seemed normal until Max realized it wasn’t the same for him and Asahi.

“This is the first time that two schools from the brotherhood houses have placed in this competition. How do you feel about this? Let’s have Mr. Tsukomo answer first, and then Mr. Sinclaire,” one of the reporters asked.

Asahi cleared his throat and leaned close to the microphone. “Our Houses have only been asked to participate five years ago. Of course, I am honored to have won alongside Max Sinclaire, but we have to keep in mind that we are very different from those who have been participating longer.”

He paused and turned to Max.

“Yes, as Asahi said, we might as well still be called rookies…underdogs, if you may. So winning Mr. Brains and Brawn for the second time is an achievement that all houses are proud of.”

Cameras flashed and clicked, and reporters began to raise their hands again. Max took a deep breath and pointed at the man sitting at the far back.

The reporter smiled and stood from his seat. “Hello, I’m Matt from Aurelian Press. My question is…D & F High School, also known as the House of Knights, faced a lot of controversy when their representative won four years ago. Are you two prepared if similar issues and criticisms get brought up again?”

The two white uniforms looked at each other. Asahi was about to say something, but Max leaned to the microphone first and asked, “And why would there be similar issues?”

Matt was surprised by the answer, so another reporter stood and said, “Because everyone knows of the brotherhood houses.”

“It’s not a secret, but it’s not publicly open either,” someone else added. “The Brotherhood Association is recognized by the public, the government, and the monarch, but they keep all activities in your school hidden. We don’t know if you’re trained by a brotherhood. Maybe you two are even actual brotherhood members. But regardless, this puts the other contestants at a huge disadvantage.”

Max and Asahi haven’t even answered, but Kingston could already be seen holding his laughter, not because he was making fun of the white uniforms, but because he was well aware of how idiotic it was to ask such a question to a boy like Max.

This was definitely going to be all over the news.

“I’m sorry, but what on earth do you all think brotherhoods are?” Max finally asked while Asahi suppressed a grin beside him.

“We all know about the white uniforms and the black uniforms. Brotherhoods are trained students who are said to be a different breed, and they’re—”

“So you see them as animals?” Max cut in, and the other contestants sitting at the back chuckled.

The reporters looked at each other, stunned.

They have underestimated Max. Since he became a student of J.S. High, that was how he had been labeled since. But it seemed like they had forgotten a very crucial fact about who he really was.

Max is an heir. And the most powerful one out there, too.

“Let me get this straight for everyone listening,” Max said, sitting tall. “J.S. High and the other brotherhood houses follow a system, that’s true. But isn’t that the same for every prestigious school out there? Contestants here train for a year, most of them under real professionals. But the moment our representative is trained by a brotherhood—who are also students, mind you—it suddenly becomes a problem.”

Someone among the press wanted to say something, but Max didn’t let them.

“Brotherhood is a concept that other schools can also adapt. The difference is, ours houses the best.”

“That’s right,” Nox commented, causing the other white uniforms to smile.

“You find it unfair? Well, we find it unfair that brotherhoods can’t participate, too,” Max continued. “These brotherhoods are fearsome, respected, smart, clever, and brave. They are the best of the best because the houses are able to harness such skills. They’re able to create these outstanding students who you all seem to be threatened by. And it angers me that instead of celebrating them, you put them in a negative light.”

Asahi turned to Max, smiling and nodding at every statement he made with great conviction.

“We are not responsible for your prejudice. Blame other schools for not being able to create what the houses have taken years to build.”

Silence filled the auditorium as soon as Max was done.

Then…

Gengxin started clapping.

Followed by Kingston.

Then the others.

Until the entire room joined in.

“Make no mistake,” Max said as the applause continued, “J.S. High is an exceptional school filled with exceptional students. This is only the beginning of our reign. Everything you think you know about the houses will change…and when that time comes, you won’t be able to ignore us. Mark my words.”

|END|

56 | Second Protectors

♜

“AS YOUR HOMEROOM TEACHER, I should advise you to forget about what the press said. They’re an aggressive bunch, and they want you to mess up so they can have a worthy headline. Don’t think too much about it, especially when you answered their questions well,” Sir Barron told Max, who was sitting beside him in J.S High’s personal car.

Max didn’t respond, so the adviser sighed and called out, “Hey, are you listening?”

Max blinked, glancing at Sir Barron before releasing a sigh. “I’m just tired. I mean, I’d be an actual monster if I wasn’t,” he answered.

“Is that all?” 

“I mean…” Max adjusted his peaked cap and stared out the window. “I’m excited to go back to J.S. High with the title. It’s what I’ve been training for. But after that press conference, I just feel…”

“Empty? Confused?” Sir Barron offered.

“Angry,” Max answered, finally looking at his adviser. “I’ve always thought that J.S. High was this unbreakable school every other student dreamed of being in, but in fact, others don’t see it that way.”

“That’s funny coming from you. You barely knew anything about J.S. High before you enrolled,” Sir Barron said, almost teasingly.

“I was basically running an entire corporation the whole time, so you can’t blame me,” Max defended.

Sir Barron chuckled and let out a heavy sigh. “I feel like I’m not talking to the same boy I met on the first day anymore,” he said. “The first time I met you, you seemed arrogant. You had that air around you that told people that you don’t care enough to be bothered by them. But now it’s different. What changed your mind? The press? BND’s training?”

Max inhaled and went back over everything he had seen during his days at J.S. High. 

He remembered the things he and Felix had to experience just because they’re a serf. He heard the different views and the beliefs of brotherhoods and white uniforms. He saw everyone’s excellence, struggles, and means of survival, yet others see them as a school filled with—as Kingston phrased it—savages.

“For some reason, I suddenly have this desire to prove everyone wrong,” Max answered. “Kingston was right. No matter how prettily I try to spin it, nothing about our houses is admirable.”

Sir Barron raised an eyebrow upon hearing the bold statement, but he said nothing and let Max continue.

“I mean, when you say J.S. High, or the brotherhood houses in general, the first thing people think about is how cool our uniform looks,” Max blurted out, almost making the homeroom teacher laugh.

“They don’t talk about our achievements because we have none outside the walls of our school. For Pete’s sake, this is our first time bagging Mr. Brains and Brawn. The only reason people admire us is because J.S. High is filled with heirs. And it’s frustrating because that’s the opposite of why I wanted to enroll here. I wanted people to see my worth beyond my family name.

And I know that there is so much more we can offer than being just heirs. I know because J.S. High is filled with so many outstanding students. We can be great, like how we always claimed to be.“

“So you’re saying we’re not?” Sir Barron finally asked.

“No,” Max answered without any hesitation. “The way those white uniforms treated Krist after I defeated him in battle is one of the reasons why.”

“What do you plan on doing then?”

“Well, for starters, I need to become a member of the Elites. Members of the Elites have the most influence on the school. And if I can rank high enough and join the student council…”   

Max paused and looked at Sir Barron straight in the eye. “I’ll be able to fix this goddamn system my uncle couldn’t polish and make J.S High a house that everyone can be truly proud of.”

The car was quiet. Sir Barron had not expected such fierce declarations. But as he stared at the young heir’s determined face, he sneered and nodded in understanding.

“Does winning Mr. Brains & Brawn make you wise?” Sir Barron managed to say. 

When Max didn’t laugh, he continued more seriously, “Do it then. But let me warn you, as adviser of the Elites, the current student council is practically unbreakable, especially the secretary, the vice president, and the president. Those are the holy three. To get past them, you’ll have to push yourself to the limit.”

“So winning this stupid pageant won’t be enough?” Max asked.

“If you think Mr. Brains and Brawn is stupid, then you’re a fool to have given it your all.”

“N-No, of course I don’t think…I just…I phrased it wrong,” Max struggled to say, clearly flustered.

Sir Barron laughed and said nothing else, while Max mulled over his words. With his pageant victory, he had secured 1,000 merit points. If BND kept their word, he’d get an additional 2,000. Max already had 550 points. Altogether, that would make 3,550. It was still not enough to surpass Ari, let alone make him a gaffer.

Now the question was what his next step should be. Max had done almost nothing for a month while others moved at breakneck speed. He needed to take a step big enough to push him into the top 100.

But what?

“We’re here, sir,” the driver announced, halting Max’s thoughts.

The car drove through the oversized gates of J.S High. Max braced himself, but to his surprise, the driver passed the Keep and headed for the greenhouse that was still under reconstruction from the bombing. 

Sir Barron headed out first while the driver opened Max’s door.

Max stepped onto the gravel and saw BND waiting there.

“Marcus?” Max asked, confused.

Marcus smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?” Max repeated.

No one answered as the members of BND started walking away. Max turned to his adviser, who shrugged in response, leaving Max with no other choice but to follow.

As Max trailed behind the dukes, who seemed to be wearing their half capes, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat, hoping to get their attention.

“Hello, is something wrong?” he asked. “Aren’t you even going to congratulate me? I seriously just got back as the winner. A simple greeting would be great.”

Hans glanced at him and grinned, but still didn’t answer.

As they walked, Max noticed they were approaching the stadium. Before he could react, BND made their way inside first. Max followed, and as soon as he stepped in, the stadium erupted with cheers, startling the clueless serf.

Max couldn’t fully grasp what was happening as the cheers grew louder and louder. He scanned the crowd and noticed that the bleachers were packed with white uniforms and brotherhoods alike. They stood, clapped, and cheered for him. Him.  It felt unreal.

“What the heck is going on? Isn’t this a little over the top?” Max joked.

“Don’t worry, they did it for me too. But their cheers weren’t as loud,” someone said behind him.

Max turned and realized Secretary Richard Young, last year’s second runner-up, stood there.

The Roses appeared next, lined up behind BND. When Max spotted Ari, Ari winked and smiled proudly. Max chuckled at the sight. Not because of the flirtatious gesture, but because of the reactions of the white uniforms who just found out that Ari was actually an underling of the third-strongest brotherhood.

As everyone settled, the white uniforms quieted. The Elites approached the dukes with a red velvet case Max recognized, and his smile returned.

Hans stepped forward as President Ian opened the case, revealing a blue armband. Hans adjusted his leather gloves, took the armband, and walked toward Max.

Though it wasn’t a gold armband, Max felt proud. This was an important moment for him. Even if his points wouldn’t make him a gaffer, moving from a serf to a dweller was progress.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” Hans began, the cameras trained on him so his face could be projected on the two big screens. “You came back with victory and gave your house great pride. You have shown honor, passion, and grace—the three traits that make up a member of Boys Next Door. As leader of the third-strongest brotherhood and a duke of the House of Kings, I present you with your new armband.”

Marcus leaned in, removed his black armband, and whispered, “ I’m proud of you ,“ before stepping back.

Hans moved closer. Before attaching the armband, he announced, “Rank 308, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, with 3,550 points…” 

Max held his breath, and the duke finally attached the dweller armband to his sleeve.

The white uniforms cheered again—cheers Max knew were for his pageant win, not for him personally. They would go back to hating him soon enough, but for the moment, he smiled and touched his new armband.

“And of course, as promised,” Hans added.

Max looked back at him in surprise.

Jokers appeared then, about thirty of their Jacks trailing behind. They stepped to the middle of the stadium and stood beside the dukes, while the Jacks lined up beside the Roses. Max spotted Ervin and waved. Ari stood nearby.

Krist strode forward to where Max and Hans stood. Hans stepped back, and Krist faced Max with a smile.

“You gave this back to me because you thought you only brought Jokers trouble and shame, yet we followed you because we always knew what you were capable of,” Krist said before pulling a brooch out from his pocket. “We have said it once, and we will say it again. We are honored to assist you to the end, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.”

Krist moved close and pinned his crown brooch on Max’s collar. “ Good job, little toy ,“ he whispered, then stepped away so Hans could approach next.

“Looks like it’s my turn,” Hans said, removing the BND brooch already attached to Max’s collar.

Students murmured.

They had assumed BND would only award points, not produce a spectacle, so none of them expected what unfolded next.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do something like this. Honestly, when Krist did it, I criticized him, but now I understand why he did such a bold display. You’ve proven yourself worthy, Max. Like the barons, use us as you see fit,” Hans said, removing the crown brooch from his own collar.

The white uniforms began to talk louder in disbelief, but Hans ignored them and pinned his crown brooch beside Krist’s on Max’s collar.

Max could hardly believe it. For a moment, he thought a tear would fall. Everything was overwhelming and blurrier than he had expected.

“You told me before that it didn’t matter if I was an option. Whether I was first, second, or third, I was still an option. But Max, when Mr. Brains and Brawn was announced, you weren’t an option. You were already our choice. And starting today, we will continue to always choose you,” Hans said, smiling as he patted Max’s shoulder.

The two leaders looked at each other and then back at Max like proud parents.

Without saying anything else, Master Joker and Hans touched their chest and bowed in front of Max. The members of Jokers and BND bowed next, followed by their respective underlings.

The students on the bleachers fell silent at the sight.

Max’s hand went to his chest. It trembled for reasons he couldn’t pin down. But seeing the men before him bow, he took a breath and bowed deeply in return.

“T-thank you…” he managed, clenching his fist to stop the tears. “Thank you…”

The stadium swallowed their sound as Max bowed even deeper, hiding his face while a single tear finally fell to the ground.

|END|

BOYS NEXT DOOR

SYSTEM_BOOTING…

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[ OK ] HOUSE OF KINGS ARCHIVE

[ OK ] BROTHERHOOD REGISTRY

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  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/7661ef8194741fc52c4f4a7377fd40024576ac2c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f2d31454a4a3775657a397a7856773d3d2d313038343131343635312e313861316133363538643362663830663733383334333833303834332e676966)               

BROTHERHOOD: Boys Next Door (BND)

RANK: #3

TITLE: Dukes

LEADER: Hans de Vries

Boys Next Door, or simply BND, follows three main principles: Honor, Passion, and Grace . Each member must uphold those traits to keep their title. With such an image, someone is expected to become the very face of each principle, and that someone is none other than their leader, Hans.

Hans is adored by the white uniforms because he is known to be the kindest and most respectful. Because of this, the dukes also do not have any customs. Through the example of the other brotherhoods and how they use their customs to overpower the other students, Hans believes that brotherhood customs are only made to boast one’s power, which is why he refuses to have them.

This ideology is even followed by some brotherhoods in the lower houses, especially in the House of Knights.

But of course, beneath all that perfection, there is definitely a flaw. Hans is actually a hotheaded man with big insecurities. Even with his image, Hans believes that he’s only just another option among all the fortunate things that he received in life. This insecurity stemmed from his chaotic family and the disturbing past that he experienced in J.S High.

[MEMBERS]

NAME:  Arjun Khan

YEAR: 4th Year

TITLE: Right-Hand Man/ Second in Command

Arjun refused to join a brotherhood for the longest time. However, when Hans asked him to join, he could not disagree for reasons unknown. Now, Arjun keeps BND in check. As it is known inside their brotherhood that Hans is hotheaded, Arjun became the ice that cools down the mix, which makes him another member whom the others heavily rely on.

NAME: Marcus Thompson

YEAR: 4th Year

Marcus is a member who holds the boys next door image well. He has a friendly personality and is acknowledged by other students as a model student. Marcus is even known in other schools because of his personality and looks. Even before BND was formed, Marcus’s name was already a student body favorite. 

Unfortunately, the general public doesn’t know that Marcus is a Sinclaire, but Marcus wants to keep it that way since he does not want to involve himself with the cruel world of business.

NAME: Kim Hansol

YEAR: 4th Year

TITLE: Battle Grounds Designer

Hansol

is usually a quiet member. He’s a member of BND who does not stand out as much as the others, but Hansol actually holds a significant role, and that’s because he designs BND’s grounds. Hansol is known to be smart and is actually the person who designed most of Max’s training schedule during his preparation for Mr. Brains & Brawn.

NAME:  Redford Monsour

YEAR: 4th Year

Red, the heir to Palm Hill Development, is a well-known public figure. He’s been featured in countless magazines and commercials, making his face easily recognizable. Because of this, the media has often speculated that he’s part of the Crème de la Crème—even though he isn’t. 

Like any heir, Red enjoys the spotlight, but he also takes pride in being a member of Boys Next Door. It’s almost ironic how Max doesn’t recognize him at all, considering how famous he is. Though that’s expected, since Max neither watches television nor reads magazines.

NAME:  Khian Agustin Zobel III

YEAR: 4th Year

Khian is a close friend of Marcus Thompson. He almost has the same personality as Marcus, but he’s less protective. 

Khian is also known to have been classmates with Krist since high school, but they weren’t friends, as Krist was always a troublemaker. That history made things a bit awkward between them, which is why, even after BND and Jokers grew closer, the two were rarely seen speaking to each other

NAME: Leo Underwood

YEAR: 3rd Year

Leo was a former member of the Alpha Society and was later on recruited as a Rose before becoming an official member. He is the only 3rd year student in BND, which is why he sometimes finds it difficult to mingle with the other members, especially since he’s the only one who isn’t in the same class as them. Thankfully, the members don’t treat him as an outcast, but a capable brother who can continue to raise the flag of BND once the other members graduate.

BASE: Greenhouse

UNDERLINGS: Roses

Because of the reputation surrounding underlings, BND only maintains a total of fifteen. These underlings are personally chosen by the members, and to be selected, students must embody the three traits that define the brotherhood. If they ever abuse their title or use it against other brotherhoods, BND will immediately strip them of their brooch and revoke their status.

Unlike the underlings of Jokers and Cigarettes, Roses are not as public, which is why they are also respected and admired by other white uniforms. They are composed mostly of third- and fourth-year students, with Ari as the only exception, having been recruited for special reasons.

The Roses are also being prepared by BND, especially since only Leo will remain once the others graduate. Hans and the members will be selecting future BND recruits from this pool of underlings, which is why many of them are already pushing themselves in case they are chosen.

CUSTOM: None

MAXIMUM MP GRANT:  2000 points

MOTTO:   Those who cannot stand the thorns do not deserve to pick the roses.“

[END OF ACCESS]

[ARCHIVE NAVIGATION]

► FILE 06 — JOKERS

► FILE 05 — [DATA LOCKED]

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► FILE 03 —

BOYS NEXT DOOR

► FILE 02 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 01 — [DATA LOCKED]

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

Some Brotherhood Archives are restricted. Students may only access files of brotherhoods ranked below or equal to their clearance level. To unlock additional records, earn Merit Points, or gain authorization from the Brotherhood Association.

[NEXT AVAILABLE FILE]

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57 | Day Off

♜

MAX WALKED DOWN THE stairs, yawning as he scratched the back of his bedhead. When he reached the living room, he caught the maids watching the news during their morning chores. Max wanted to ignore them, but then he spotted his face on the screen and realized they were watching the coverage of the pageant from the day before.

“What did I tell you about turning the news on while I’m here? May you please watch something else?” Max asked with a tired expression despite having woken only a few minutes earlier.

“W-we apologize, master.”

One of the maids immediately searched for the remote to turn the television off while the others bowed.

“Master Leigh, sir Étienne told us not to wake you so you could rest. Would you like me to bring your breakfast upstairs?” the maid said.

“Thank you, but it’s a Saturday. I’d rather be productive than lie in bed all day.”

The maid nodded. 

“Where is he, by the way? My butler?” Max asked.

“We are not quite sure, master Leigh, but sir Marcus is at the pool area,” the maid answered.

“Then bring our breakfast there,” he said before walking away. 

At the pool, Max saw Marcus doing laps. He didn’t call him out. Instead, he went to the patio and took a seat.

A different butler arrived and placed breakfast on the table where Max sat. After a few more laps, Marcus pulled himself from the water. A maid waited by the ladder to hand him a towel.

“Max,” Marcus called while drying his hair.

A topless Marcus approached and sat across from his brother. “You’re up early. Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked, taking a sip of orange juice.

“When did I ever decide to just rest? I don’t have the luxury for that,” Max admitted, and a maid stood on his side and poured him tea. “Thank you,” he added, taking a sip.

“Well, Étienne is handling everything you’re supposed to take care of today so you can rest. He’s at the company now, so there’s nothing for you to do,” Marcus revealed, surprising Max.

“And who gave him permission to do that?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow. Marcus only shrugged and buttered his toast.

Max sighed and massaged his temple. “If that’s the case, what am I supposed to do today? Study?” he asked, the idea almost offensive.

“Oh no, I have all the free time in the world, and I don’t know what to do,” Marcus replied sarcastically, causing Max to glare at him.

Marcus flinched at the look and tried to change the subject. “Anyway, I seriously suggest you take the day off. If you don’t remember, our grandmother’s birthday is tomorrow, and we’re heading to the Sinclaire main household at nine in the morning,” Marcus reminded him. 

Max grunted like a spoiled brat.

“But she hates me,” Max pointed out.

“Who doesn’t hate you?” Marcus answered, and Max nearly threw a hard-boiled egg at his face.

Marcus laughed it off and changed the subject again. “Come on Max, you just won Mr. Brains and Brawn, and half the white uniforms respect you now. Not just those in the House of Kings but the other houses too. You deserve a little rest,” he said, more earnestly.

Max took a deep breath and another sip of tea. “What happened yesterday is still too bizarre for me to take in, so I want to keep busy so I don’t have to think. I always wanted to conquer BND, but now that I have, the pressure’s on. I seriously don’t even know what to do next.”

Marcus studied his brother with concern. He might not say it aloud, but he understood what Max felt. When they enrolled Max at J.S. High, Max had cared only for himself. As he dove deeper into the school and its history, a burden had fallen to him. The mistakes of those before were suddenly his to carry.

The responsibility was overwhelming.

“You know what…” Marcus looked toward a maid and said, “Can you get my phone, please? It’s in my room.”

The maid nodded and ran off. After a while, she returned with Marcus’s phone. Marcus thanked her and began typing.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, but Marcus kept typing.

“You don’t know what to do today, right? Worry no more, little brother. I just contacted someone who will help you with that problem.”

…

Max stared at his wardrobe with a focused expression. He didn’t entirely know what Marcus had arranged, but his brother had told him they were going out that evening and to wear casual clothes, something Max had not worn in a long time. He wasn’t sure whether any outfit would read as casual rather than formal.

“Why do I even have hundreds of suits?” Max complained as he opened another cabinet in his walk-in closet.

He scanned his clothes for a few more seconds, finally pulling out a black long-sleeved turtleneck and a denim jacket. He also grabbed black jeans and black Chelsea boots to match.

After debating with himself, he dressed and moved to the full-length mirror. Marcus entered without knocking, and the moment he saw Max, he laughed.

That reaction made Max glare, but Marcus quickly defended himself. “Don’t get me wrong, you look good. It’s just strange to see you as a normal seventeen-year-old.”

“I don’t know if I should be thankful or offended,” Max said, arms crossed. “So, where are you taking me, Marcus Thompson?”

Marcus crossed his arms too and smiled. “Actually, I’m not coming with you.”

Max stared blankly. “If you set me up for a blind date, I’ll pierce BND’s crown brooch in your eyes so you’ll go blind. I am not having dinner with a stranger.”

Marcus laughed at the gruesome threat. Before Max could act on it, someone knocked on his bedroom door.

“Looks like they’re here,” Marcus said brightly, running to open the door for Max while Max massaged his temple, clueless about what was happening.

As soon as Marcus opened the door, three familiar faces appeared on the doorframe. Max almost facepalmed himself as his peculiar school friends, Ari, Felix, and Ervin, walked in.

“Evening, Max,” Ari greeted, scanning Max’s enormous bedroom.

“So this is what the most powerful heir’s bedroom looks like,” Ervin commented.

Max stared at them. Ari, oddly formal in his clothes and round glasses, looked like a proper nobleman. It was a strange sight compared to his usual rebellious self back in J.S. High. 

Felix, on the other hand, seemed free of his school ‘good-boy’ act. While Ervin retained his style and vibe, no matter the setting.

“I always thought our house was big, but this is massive,” Felix admitted, hands in his pockets like a thug. “It’s as big as J.S High.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Max said, then looked at Marcus. “This was your plan? So what now, do we watch rom-coms and have a slumber party?”

“ Ugh ,“ Felix grunted in disapproval.

Max, who was looking at his brother, wasn’t really angry at how things turned out. He just found it…awkward. This was the first time he’d been with friends outside school. Despite his public persona, he’d rarely been invited out, except for the time Felix asked him if he could go golfing with him, which Max unfortunately had to decline due to his busy schedule.

“You were always blabbering about how you’re ‘not like other teenagers,’ which is the most cliché thing a person can say to himself. So here, I’m giving you the full normal teen experience,” Marcus said with a bright smile that nearly made Max slap him out of annoyance.

“Now go. Do something rebellious for once. Go to a club and get high, I don’t care. You’re an heir for Pete’s sake; you’re practically untouchable. Just make sure the paparazzi doesn’t catch you,” Marcus added.

Max sighed, grabbed his wallet, keys, lighter, and phone. “You are a bad influence,” he told Marcus.

“No, this is what you call a cool brother,” Marcus said proudly.

Max flicked his brother off and walked out. The three peculiar friends followed, ogling the mansion interiors. 

Descending the grand staircase, they passed a large family painting showing Max at seven, his mother, Luna, seated in the middle, and his father, Denzel, standing behind.

Ari swallowed at the sight of Max’s father. Though it wasn’t in person, something about him was terrifying. Max’s mother looked doll-like. If not for her infamous reputation, one might mistake her for an angel.

Max noticed their stares. Without turning, he said, “If you’re wondering where Marcus is, he doesn’t have a single photo in this house. It’s cruel, I know, but it’s the truth.”

“N-No…it’s not that,” Ervin stammered, finally looking away. “I just remembered what I said to you on your first day. What I said about your mother was below the belt. I sincerely apologize.”

Max inhaled and looked at the painting’s hollow eyes. “No need to apologize. My mother, being a monster, wasn’t just a rumor. Sadly, rumors are loudest for those who are dead because they can’t defend themselves. As humans, the most decent thing we could do is let the dead rest.”

Ervin nodded, and the moment grew awkward. Before it could get worse, Felix cleared his throat and asked, “So is your butler going to be our chaperone or something?”

Max smiled, and the mood lightened. “I mean, when else are we going to have an opportunity like this, so might as well have fun,” he said, leading them downstairs.

The four of them reached the lowest level. Lights clicked on one by one, revealing an exclusive parking lot with about fifteen luxury cars.

Ervin removed his shades. 

Ari held his breath. “Holy shit.”

“Alright, this is quite impressive,” Felix added.

They walked past the cars, examining them. “Is that a black 1969 Ford Mustang Mach One?” Felix asked, dashing toward it. “Black looks sick. My dad has one at home, but it’s red.”

“Rich bastards,” Ari muttered before turning to Max. “Please don’t tell me these are all yours.”

“Don’t be absurd. Most of these are my father’s, while some are Marcus’s. I only have three cars parked here since Étienne usually drives me in the family car,” Max said as they reached the end of the lot.

“You said three cars are parked here . So are the others parked…somewhere else?” Ervin asked, but Max didn’t answer, which the three could only assume was a yes.

They stopped at three cars Max owned. “These are the ones I bought. I don’t like flashy sporty ones,” Max said, and Ervin and Ari exchanged looks before looking back at Max with disbelief.

“If a Bentley Continental isn’t flashy, I don’t know what is,” Ari remarked.

“Anyway, I only have one passenger car.” Max approached a white Jaguar. “So, you guys ready?”

“I call shotgun!” Ari shouted, sprinting to the passenger seat. Max chuckled, and the four piled in and drove away.

“Where are we heading?” Felix asked from the back.

Max had no plan since he usually hung around the company, and this was entirely his brother’s idea. So Ervin, the outgoing one, leaned forward and suggested, “Crossroad Avenue. I know the perfect spot.”

Max raised an eyebrow but followed Ervin’s directions. The drive took about twenty minutes. And when they got there, Max parked beside the three-story windowless building that bore a neon sign that said, THE MASK.

“Where the fuck are we?” Max asked.

“Are you sure you’re not the owner, Felix, since you wear a mask at school all the fucking time?” Ari joked, and Felix shoved his seat so hard that Ari regretted it in an instant.

“Ervin, when Marcus said ‘go to a club and get high,’ I’m pretty sure he half-meant it as a joke,” Max said, but Ervin ignored them and stepped out of the car.

The three followed.

“So this is it,” Max said, staring at the building with a sigh. “If I end up in a scandal, I’ll blame all of you.”

Ervin snorted. “Trust me,” he said, walking inside first, the three trailing behind him like lost kids.

They could barely hear anything from inside as they stopped at an entrance where a bouncer patted them down. Max, Ari, and Felix didn’t know what to expect, but when the bouncer finally opened the door for them, they were stunned.

The interior wasn’t a pounding club but a luxurious, peaceful pub. Patrons chatted at the bar, and others played billiards.

“My dear friends, welcome to The Mask,” Ervin said with a grin. “A pub exclusively for students of the five brotherhood houses.”

|END|

58 | The Mask

♜

“MY DEAR FRIENDS, WELCOME to The Mask. A pub exclusively built for the students of the five brotherhood houses,” Ervin revealed.

Max, Ari, and Felix awkwardly stood at the entrance like kids seeing the inside of a club for the first time. When the other students noticed them, the room went quiet, making it even more awkward. 

The peculiar friend group didn’t know what to do, but all of a sudden, someone at the back cheered and shouted, “It’s Max! Congratulations on winning Mr. Brains & Brawn yesterday!”

“You were amazing!” another unfamiliar voice called.

Max, unsure how to react, was promptly tugged along by Ervin so he wouldn’t have to stand there like an idiot.

“Come on, let’s find a table,” Ervin said, draping an arm around Max’s shoulders and steering him away from the staring crowd, Felix and Ari right behind them.

Max noticed the bartenders and waiters all wore masks. As they made their way to an empty table, more unfamiliar faces from other houses congratulated him. Someone from the House of Rooks even thanked him for being kind to their representative, Lennox Connery. It was a strange yet fulfilling experience for Max.

“How come I haven’t heard of this place before?” Ari asked as they settled in their table.

“First and second-years usually don’t know about this place, but a senior Jack once brought me here for a couple of drinks. I’ve been visiting since.”

“No wonder. You’re not cool enough for this place, Ari,” Felix said, and the two started bickering again.

“Who built this, anyway?” Max asked while the other two kept sniping at each other.

“Heard the owner was a J.S. High alumnus who became friends with students from the other houses, so they made this together. No one really knows the full story,” Ervin said.

A masked waiter arrived with menus. Felix and Ari finally stopped arguing, and the four ordered a bucket of beer and some side dishes.

“The pub is called The Mask because even though we’re outside our Houses, we can still talk about school matters here,” Ervin added. “It’s the only place where we can act as we do in J.S. High without getting called out for it.”

“Oh, good, you can act cute and innocent here, Felix,” Ari teased, taking revenge for earlier. Before Felix could fire back, Max shot them a glare that shut them up in an instant.

“Can’t we get in trouble here? Wouldn’t the Elites just barge in and suspend us?” Max asked—and as if on cue, two members of the Elites entered the pub, making Max’s eyes widen.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered as President Ian Rothman and Vice President Gavriil Alexeev walked in. Max braced for chaos, but to his surprise, the other students greeted them like regular customers.

“Oh, it’s Maximilian. You guys are here too?” Ian called when he spotted them.

“Wait, why are they walking toward us?” Ari asked, shooting Gavriil a hostile look.

The two council members approached. With them was another young man Max didn’t recognize, but Ari and the others clearly did, because they stood to show respect.

“We were just talking about you,” Ian said, and the tough-looking guy beside him with piercings along his ears and eyebrow extended a hand to Max.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Max. Asahi said so much about you,” the man said.

Max stared at the hand, not refusing it, just studying the stranger’s face with a confused frown. He felt he should know him, but couldn’t place him.

Catching the confusion, the man laughed and lowered his hand. He dipped his head slightly and introduced himself. “I’m Justice Thorndyke , third-year, president of the student council in the House of Bishops, the Saints. Heard you’re running for Elites, so we might work together in the future.”

“Third year?” Max blurted.

“That’s right,” Ian answered for him. “Justice is the first non-senior student to become a council president in their house.” He then glanced at Gavriil. “Anyway, we should order at the bar and then—”

“Why not join their table?” Justice cut in. “It’ll be more fun with more people. And besides, they’re Gavriil’s classmates too, right?”

“I’m fine with it…If you all are?” Ian asked, looking at Max.

Ari sent Max a death glare that clearly meant “ make them leave“ . Ervin looked awkward at the unexpected situation, while Felix didn’t care either way. Max wanted to decline, but it felt wrong to turn away two presidents and a vice president.

“I mean, I don’t see a problem,” Max answered, and Ari kicked him under the table in frustration.

“Awesome! Let’s combine the tables,” Justice said excitedly, his soft personality surprisingly opposite to his rough appearance. 

Ervin and Max stood to help the two presidents while Gavriil ordered food and drinks.

Once they’d joined the tables, Ari ended up, lucky him , beside the person he hated most: Gavriil. While Ian and Justice sat near Ervin and Felix. The group was all on their phones until their orders arrived.

“So, how did it feel to meet those preppy bastards?” Justice asked Max, fishing a cold beer from the bucket.

Everyone grabbed a bottle as Max answered, “I can’t say much since I used to be one of those students, but they have their own appeal. Yeah, some look down on us, but a few are okay.”

“They’re chosen representatives. Naturally, you met decent ones. But don’t be fooled, most of them are assholes. There’s still the Elite School Convention. You’ll meet all kinds there,” Justice said. Max wanted to ask more, but decided to wait until the time came.

“By the way, how have Jokers been doing? Heard five potential underlings applied last week. Looks like the Jacks are growing again,” Ian asked, looking at Ervin.

“Actually, it was seven. A few more applied, but Master Joker is still running background checks,” Ervin replied.

Ian kept the questions coming, and Ervin answered like the proper white uniform he was. While the others listened, Max eyed the pizza. He stared for a few seconds until someone asked, “Never seen cheap-looking pizza before?”

Max looked up to find Gavriil watching him. The jab made Max laugh, but he grabbed a slice and took a bite. “No, I was checking the toppings.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re allergic to seafood,” Gavriil said casually. “Specifically, shellfish, right?”

Max nodded, then paused mid-bite as the words sank in. He set the slice down and frowned. “H-How did you know?”

Gavriil seemed to realize what he’d said. Instead of answering, he grabbed his beer and chugged it down, as if hoping to get drunk off it.

Max wanted to press him, but the birthday incident flashed through his mind. He still didn’t know why he’d greeted Gavriil that day. This was just one more reason for things to be awkward between them.

“By the way, when are the exams again?” Justice asked, and conversation flowed back to normal.

Even though they could talk about house politics here, the mixed group drifted to lighter topics such as movie releases that week, national issues, and even the stock market.

For the first time, setting aside the odd moment with the vice, Max enjoyed a weekend without thinking about school or business. As Marcus said, he was finally tasting the life of a normal teenager.

“And then I saw this little fucker here and thought…Is he still the Felix gaffers used to pick on? He can kill you with his stare,” Ari said, making the boys at the table laugh. Well, everyone except Felix.

“Students outside have different personalities inside the campus. It’s not uncommon. Even in normal schools,” Justice said, and Ian and the others nodded.

No one noticed, but two hours have already passed since they started drinking. Surprisingly enough, everyone was holding up. Probably because the student council members wanted to be good role models, or all of them were just really good drinkers.

“I’ll just smoke out back,” Gavriil said, standing.

Max watched the vice with his leg bouncing up and down. He hesitated for a second before taking a swig of his drink. “I’ll come with you,” he replied, standing as well.

Gavriil didn’t react and just walked away. Max grabbed his lighter and followed.

The two reached the smoking area. Three other guys were there, but when they saw Gavriil, they greeted him respectfully and left.

Gavriil moved to the side and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He took one and held the pack out. Max declined and took out his lighter, which doubled as a slim case for three sticks.

“I try not to be a chain-smoker,” Max said, though Gavriil hadn’t asked.

Max lit his cigarette. Gavriil pocketed his pack and patted his pockets for a lighter, which he soon realized wasn’t in its usual place. After double-checking, he frowned.

Max noticed and held out his lighter. He exhaled a stream of smoke and said, “Here.”

Gavriil paused, pulled the cigarette from his lips, and leaned in while Max struck the flame. “Thanks,” he murmured, and they smoked in silence.

The smoking area felt different from inside. The pub’s chatter dulled to a hum. Only a faint thread of music was leaking through.

Trying not to acknowledge each other, they stared into the distance. But after a while, Max ended up glancing at Gavriil. 

The vice president stood straight like he did at school, but instead of a neat white uniform, he wore a red-checkered flannel, black ripped jeans, and high-cut Converse. His long hair was tied in a messy bun, exposing the mole near his eye. Max meant to glance for a second, but he didn’t notice he was already staring.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Sinclaire?” Gavriil asked, smoke escaping from his mouth.

Max almost flinched. He looked away, cleared his throat, and said, “I apologize. I have a habit of staring at people I find—” He stopped himself.

Gavriil let it pass and chuckled. “Can’t believe you’re the same guy who boldly asked me to guide you into the Elites. Where did all that confidence go?”

“That request still stands,” Max said. Gavriil only nodded, almost as if he had given up making Max change his mind.

“You told me if I received two more brooches, you’d give me what I wanted. I’ve obtained BND’s brooch. I only need one more, right?” Max asked, flicking his cigarette into the bin.

Gavriil drew on his own cigarette, stepped closer, and exhaled slowly. In a low voice, he whispered, “ Have you thought about what you want from me then, Mr. Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire ?“

Max met his eyes despite the height difference. He swallowed, suddenly feeling trapped by the vice president’s stare. But when Gavriil blinked, Max immediately said, “Other than the first day of school, I want you to tell me when and where we met before.”

“And what makes you think we did?” Gavriil asked.

“Oh, please, playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Max said, looking away and pulling another cigarette from his lighter. He was about to light it, but all of a sudden, Gavriil snatched it and threw it in the bin.

“I thought you didn’t want to be a chain-smoker?” Gavriil said, discarding his own cigarette as well before looking back at Max, who only stood just a couple of inches away from him.

“I’m not a child.”

“I can see that.”

“Then stop treating me like one,” Max shot back. And this time, Gavriil looked away.

“When will you stop pretending I’m a stranger to you?” Max asked.

Gavriil’s fist clenched in anger. “When you stop acting like I’m a stranger to you too,” he snapped, louder than he intended.

Silence crashed down. Max stared, his brows furrowed at what the vice said. Gavriil looked just as shocked at himself. After being careful for so long, how could he let something like that slip?

“Fuck,” he muttered, cursing at his recklessness…and the beer he chugged down moments ago. Only now did he realize how drunk he was. Because if he were sober, he would never have allowed himself to be alone with Max like that.

Before Max could reply, Gavriil gave him a light shove and strode off.

Max swore under his breath and followed. When they got back to their table, Gavriil grabbed his things and left without a word, startling Ian and the others.

“What the…where are you going?!” Justice called, but Gavriil was already out the door before anyone could stop him.

“What happened back there?” Ari asked in confusion.

Max stared at the exit, a hand unconsciously pressing to his suddenly aching chest. “Nothing,” he said, forcing his voice to steady. “I bet he was just drunk. That’s all.”

|END|

59 | Family Comes First

♜

“HEY, ARE YOU LISTENING?” A voice called

out. Max blinked and turned his head to find Marcus staring at him with a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling your name, but you weren’t responding.”

Max sighed, massaging his temple. “Nothing, I’m just a little tired,” he answered before looking out of the car window.

Marcus could tell that something was up. His brother was hard to read most of the time, but when it comes to things that bother him, he unconsciously gets expressive.

“I heard from Ari that you drank at the Mask last night,” Marcus said, trying not to press Max too much. “I’m glad you were able to unwind even for a while.”

“Yeah,” Max answered flatly.

Marcus drew a breath and closed his book. “You know, brotherhoods rarely visit that place since we don’t think mixing with the white uniforms is a good idea. But maybe next time, we could go together. I think it would be fun,” he then offered, hoping Max could at least pretend to be excited about it.

“Okay,” he answered again with the same bored tone.

Marcus gave up, no longer forcing a smile as he turned to his brother with his arms crossed. “Alright, what’s going on? It’s a beautiful Sunday morning. We’re visiting grandma and celebrating her birthday, yet you look like you won the lottery and lost the ticket.”

Max tried to ignore his brother, wishing he’d leave him alone. But when he realized that he wasn’t budging, he let out a heavy sigh and turned.

“You know, there are times when you’re at this age, and you suddenly forget things about your childhood. It’s like you remember bits and pieces of it, but nothing is ever clear,” Max explained.

Marcus paused and got serious.

“What are you implying?”

Max adjusted himself in his seat. “Have I been friends with someone when I was young?” he asked, hands fidgeting. “Or was I talking to someone before? A playdate, maybe? I feel like I did, but I don’t fucking remember.”

Max thought he was beginning to sound crazy, but when he saw his brother’s reaction, his heart dropped. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

Marcus looked away. 

Max thought he was trying to avoid the question, but he noticed that Marcus was actually looking at Étienne, who was already watching them. He was practically telling Marcus to be careful about what he was going to tell him.

“Max, of course you had friends,” Marcus finally answered. “You and your parents were always attending parties when you were young. It’s only natural that you’d meet other kids there, too.”

“Do you know who they were? Did I mention them when I was younger?” Max persistently asked.

“I don’t know. Back then, we barely hung out, and Madam Luna never allowed me to come to those parties with you,” Marcus answered, hoping Max would let it go.

But Max didn’t want to let go. He wanted to ask more questions, questions that Marcus didn’t have any more answers to. 

“But I don’t think I—”

“Max,” Marcus cut in, grabbing his shoulders with a nervous smile. “You shouldn’t be worrying about those things. What even got you thinking about that? Did you remember something? Did someone tell you anything strange?”

“I—” Max paused before pushing Marcus’s hands away from him. “You know what, forget about it,” he said, and Marcus nodded and reached out to pat his brother’s head before going back to his book, pretending that the entire conversation never happened.

“There’s still a long way to go before we arrive at our grandmother’s house. It’s best if you rest until we arrive. The Sinclaires will all be there, and they’ll definitely make you restless,” Marcus said without looking back at Max.

Max unconsciously touched his empty collar as he turned to look outside the car window.

Marcus was right. He shouldn’t be worrying about his childhood as if it were important. Right now, they’d be arriving at the Sinclaire Household, where he’ll be alone inside a room of people who greatly despise him. 

That is something he should be worrying about. Nothing else.

…

The car began to slow as they approached a large and familiar mansion. Marcus removed his earphones and looked out of the window before turning to his brother, who had been sleeping for two hours.

“Max,” he called out, shaking him gently.

Max slowly opened his eyes, yawning as he looked outside the window.

“We’re here?” Max asked, and Marcus scooted closer and fixed his bed hair for him.

Étienne, who was approaching the gate with a large letter S in the middle, looked at the rearview mirror and said, “Your father requested that you both behave with utmost decorum during the lunch party. He won’t be able to attend, but you will be representing his name in front of the family.”

Max suppressed a laugh.

“I’m pretty sure he directly meant that for me. Marcus is practically as perfect as a prince. The Sinclaires just adore him,” Max teased, and Marcus draped his arm around Max’s neck and ruffled his hair.

The two laughed until Max tapped out so he could be released.

“It’s not that they like me. They only hate your mother, which translates to them hating you,” Marcus explained while Max began fixing his hair.

“You’re getting braver by the second,” Max said with a smirk, and Marcus just stuck his tongue out like a kid.

After making sure he looked clean and proper, Max leaned toward his butler. “Étienne, can you please come with us?” he practically begged, which was surprising since he always fought with his butler in most circumstances.

“As much as I want to mingle with the elite, I would much rather stay in the lounge where the other bulters are asked to wait,” Étienne answered with a hint of sarcasm.

Max crossed his arms in quiet protest. “You’re such a nincompoop.”

When they arrived at the main entrance, Max noticed that other cars were already parked at the side. It only meant that everyone else was already waiting, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Here we are. Enjoy the party, Master Leigh and Sir Marcus,” Étienne said as a man opened the car door for them.

Max rolled his eyes back and headed out after Marcus. There were dozens of maids waiting outside to greet them, and Max only nodded his head in acknowledgement.

The large entrance door opened, and another man led them to what seemed to be a waiting area filled with familiar people. Max didn’t even have to recognize their faces. He could instantly tell that all of them were from the Sinclaire family.

“Marcus!” someone shouted, and everyone instantly turned to the newly arrived guests.

A woman in a green dress walked up to them. Max watched as she deliberately ignored him and walked straight to Marcus to give her cousin an exaggerated hug.

Max almost laughed. 

24-year-old Elizabeth Sinclaire is the head manager of Sinclaire Italy. You’d expect someone like her to at least greet Max, who’s practically her boss, but it seems the Sinclaires still lack decency.

“I can’t believe you made it! Uncle Denzel said that he wouldn’t be able to come, so I thought you wouldn’t either,” Elizabeth said, her perfume almost making Max sneeze.

“Max and I had to come no matter what. This is Grandmother’s eightieth birthday after all,” Marcus said as he gently pushed Elizabeth off him so he could stand closer to his little brother.

Marcus tried to make Elizabeth acknowledge Max, but Elizabeth obviously had no plans to do such a thing. Max could only watch and step aside as more of their cousins swarmed around Marcus, happily greeting him as if he were the master of the house.

“Marcus, it’s good to see you,” Brantley Sinclaire , another one of their cousins, greeted as he patted Marcus’s back like they were the best of friends.

Elizabeth then wrapped her hand around Marcus’s arm before he could say anything. “Come on, Father would love to see you,” she said, pulling him to the dining hall.

“W-Wait…I’m with—”

“It’s fine. Go,” Max mouthed, hoping his brother wouldn’t worry about him.

Marcus frowned before disappearing with the others. 

As soon as they were gone, Max sighed and flattened his shirt, scanning the area to familiarize himself with the other guests.

Most of them were people he knew. And all of them knew Max in return, yet not a single person had stepped forward to acknowledge him. Some stole glances. Some whispered. But despite the cold welcome, Max wasn’t bothered. 

It was the same every year.

“ It feels like I’m back in J.S. High ,“ Max whispered to himself before walking away from the crowd to stand near a window with a perfect view of the garden. 

He remembered visiting when he was younger. He used to chase butterflies and search for bugs. The memory seemed pleasant, almost like a dream. But now that he’s older, the vibrant colors seem to have faded.

“Shouldn’t you be mingling with the others?”

Max, who instantly recognized the owner of the voice, smiled and turned around. “I’ll only end up getting disappointed if I do.”

“Looks like we’re both outcasts then,” a man named Janus Sinclaire said, staring at Max with a genuine smile.

Max smiled back, leaning closer to hug his uncle. He didn’t like crossing paths with him in school, but now he was glad to have him there with him.

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you, Uncle,” Max said as he pulled away from him.

“Oh, so it’s uncle now? I thought I’d be President Janus for the rest of your life,” Janus teased before standing beside Max. He took a sip of his champagne, and the two of them watched the crowd like outsiders, watching the others laughing without care.

“I love family gatherings. For me, it’s like a reminder to never start a family of your own,” Janus said, making Max chuckle.

“I can’t argue with that,” Max answered, turning to look at his uncle again.

Other than the time his uncle asked him to enroll in J.S. High, Max hadn’t been able to meet Janus for years. Or rather, his father didn’t allow Max to meet up with him.

Back in 1999, before Max was even born, Janus became the talk of the business world for the wrong reasons. Due to his stupidity as a young businessman, he was imprisoned for 11 years for the crime of embezzlement.

None of the Sinclaires helped him during those years. And even after he served his time, no one in the family supported him except for one person…

“Where’s Aunt Janet?” Max asked.

Janus took another sip of his champagne. “Probably working on some paperwork for her sisterhoods. She’s a lucky bitch—she and Denzel. They get to skip our mother’s birthday, and no one would bat an eye.”

“I don’t think she’s that lucky if she still gets compared with the old man,” Max said, and both of them started laughing.

Janet Sinclaire is the president of the sisterhood version of J.S. High, House of Queens, where Cindy and Scarlet study. She’s Janus’s twin, and the only person who helped him get back on his feet after he got released from prison. 

She and Janus also created the Brotherhood Association together before Janet made an association on her own.

“No one bats an eye when it comes to that old man because they’re afraid of him,” Max said while putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m not trying to belittle your achievements, uncle, but he put the Sinclaire name on the map. Without him, none of this would even be possible.”

Janus nodded, finding no offense.

“Don’t worry, I agree with you on that. J.S. High wouldn’t have been a success either if he hadn’t sponsored it,” Janus explained, turning back at Max.

“But you know, I’m surprised that you’re here. Like Denzel, I don’t think anyone would mind if you didn’t come,” the president said with a cheeky grin.

“Funny,” Max answered sarcastically. “But even though you’re right, they’re still going to use that against me if I don’t come here. Besides, they’re family regardless of how they are. I’m sure you know that. You wouldn’t be here either if you didn’t,” Max said, looking at his uncle, who had just finished his champagne.

“ Family, “ Janus scoffed.

He handed the empty glass to a waiter and adjusted his tie. “By the way, I never got the chance to congratulate you for winning Mr. Brains and Brawn. As the president of J.S. High, I’m glad that you brought home the crown and raised our flag high against those other schools,” Janus said.

Max wanted to thank his uncle when he remembered what Nox and the other White Uniforms said regarding the bombing at the greenhouse. They told him about the rumors that the Brotherhood Association already knew who the bomber was, but they weren’t disclosing anything about it.

Max was dying to ask his uncle. But just when he found the courage to do it, an older butler appeared with a bell. “Lunch is now ready. Everyone, may I request you all to please proceed now to the dining hall.”

The butler led the rest of the guests inside while Janus and Max also followed behind.

“Look at those savages. They look so excited, but they don’t even know I’ve poisoned their food,” Janus managed to joke.

“Don’t worry. I already started with the drinks,” Max replied, and the two snickered like students until they arrived at the hall.

A large rectangular table was found in the middle of the room, and on the table were dozens of different dishes that were prepared by the best chefs in the world.

The Sinclaires took their seats as Max and Janus tried to decide where they should take theirs. But as they were searching for an empty spot, Marcus waved and called out for them.

“Max! I saved a seat for you and Uncle.”

Max looked at Marcus, who was gesturing at a seat that was beside their cousins. That was the last place Max wanted to be in, but he didn’t want to be difficult, especially not in front of the others.

With a fake smile, he swallowed his pride and turned to Janus.

“Uncle, shall we?”

Janus adjusted his tie for the second time.

“You’re too nice to him,” he whispered in Max’s ear before taking his seat beside his brother’s wife, who was also not pleased to sit beside him.

“He’s my brother,” Max answered, claiming the seat between Janus and Marcus.

Elizabeth, who had been deliberately ignoring Max, rolled her eyes as she settled beside Max’s brother. She wanted to talk to Marcus, but one of their aunts called out to him, forcing Marcus to leave his seat.

With the now empty seat beside Max and Elizabeth, Max released a breath and turned to her. He had no reason to act snobbishly now. He was already there. Might as well mingle.

“Hello, cousin. It’s nice to see you again,” Max said.

The sudden greeting surprised Elizabeth, but she tried her best not to look too bothered by it. “I heard you won Mr. Brains & Brawn. Congratulations,” she said instead of greeting him back.

“Well, thank—”

“My brother Brant won it before, too. He’s from Lincoln International High School. I heard J.S. High won it for the first time, so I guess the lineup this year wasn’t that great,” Elizabeth said before Max could finish his.

Max knew what she was doing, but he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He had been in the game before he could learn how to walk. Handling these types wasn’t much of a problem.

And he genuinely just wanted to mingle. Too bad for that.

“Lincoln International High School? Oh, I remember them. This year, he was used as a human shield by the second runner-up. I guess students there are easily manipulated,” Max replied, and Elizabeth clenched on the strap of her bag, trying not to react at the obvious jab.

“I don’t think that’s the case for all the stu—”

It was Max’s turn to cut her off. “That bag looks gorgeous. How much was it worth?”

Elizabeth froze, looking at her bag before hiding it under the table.

“It wasn’t that expensive. My father gave it to me as a gift.”

“Oh, so your father gave it to you. How did you know how much it’s worth? Do you usually ask for the receipt when someone buys you something? You know, just to make sure it’s not expensive,” Max continued, trying to corner his cousin.

Max had reviewed the financial reports a dozen times. Only an idiot wouldn’t notice the amount of money being released under projects that were never even finalized. After careful digging, he found out that those ghost projects were always signed by Elizabeth.

Putting two and two together shouldn’t be that hard.

“You cheeky little brat,” Elizabeth muttered with gritted teeth.

Max smirked and leaned closer to her. 

“ Your father is only one of the presidents under the corporation I will soon inherit. Once I claim the seat, those tacky bags you’re so fond of will be the first things you lose, “ Max whispered.

He was expecting a reaction, but what he didn’t expect was Elizabeth grabbing her glass and spashing it directly on his face.

Everyone in the room gasped.

“I-I’m so sorry, Max. It slipped from my hand,” she innocently said, and Max grabbed a table napkin to wipe his face and soaking shirt.

Marcus, who saw the commotion, ran to Max’s side and grabbed another napkin to help dry him. “How could you do such a thing, Eli?!” Marcus angrily asked, kneeling beside his brother.

“It was an accident! How dare you raise your voice at me?” Elizabeth shot back.

“Marcus, it’s alright,” Max tried to say, but it was too late. Marcus was already furious.

Marcus clenched the napkin and stood to face Elizabeth. He then slammed it on the table, startling everyone. 

“I’ve been tolerating your terrible attitude towards my brother, but this? You crossed the line, Elizabeth,” he snapped, surprising their cousins.

As everyone fell silent, Janus leaned close to Max and whispered, “ Take your brother outside to cool him down. I’ll handle it from here.“

Max nodded and got ready to grab  Marcus when all of a sudden, an older man stood from his seat with tightened jaws and pursed lips.

“For an illegitimate son to speak to my daughter in such a way, Denzel must not have taught you proper manners,” Dante Sinclaire, the second son of the Sinclaire family, said with full authority in his voice.

“You’re just a bastard son. Know your place in this family,” he continued.

Elizabeth grinned, boastful at her father’s defense.

Marcus was lost for words.

Janus didn’t grab him, but instead, he turned to Max. He was afraid of what he was about to do, but his fear came to reality the moment he saw the look on his nephew’s eyes.

“I can take all the insults and all this disrespect, but you do not talk to my brother that way,” Max snarled.

Dante stared at him, his nostrils flaring. “What did you just say?”

“Why did you invite us here if you’ll only treat us like this? Even the butlers and maids get better treatment than we do.”

“No one forced you,” Brantley answered, and the illusion of a family had completely shattered.

The atmosphere around Max turned dark. Janus tried to hold his shoulder, but he could no longer reach him.

Max scanned the room, staring at the familiar faces who knew nothing else but to rule and to cheat and to manipulate. This was no longer his family. This wasn’t the family he wanted to be a part of.

They never treated him as one anyway.

“You…” he began, his fingers pointed at them like a witch casting a curse.

“You live in luxury from the luxury that my family left behind. Everything you have—the clothes that you wear, the cars that you drive, the mansions that you live in, and even the delicious food that you eat—is all from the hard work of my  ancestors. The Lemieux family is the only reason why you are here, and yet you treat me like an outcast.”

Max’s voice echoed in the quiet hall.

He had never felt such rage before, but this anger was long overdue.

His cousin Jean once told him that he had to choose a side. The Lemieuxs or the Sinclaires. The answer was difficult to find, but this reunion led him to it.

“You acted like my mother was a monster—” Max said, his voice now trembling. “But this family drove her mad. Her biggest mistake…was to trust a Sinclaire.”

No one in the hall moved.

Max wasn’t expecting applause. He wasn’t even expecting agreement. But when he looked at them, like really looked, he saw nothing. No outrage. No guilt. Not even discomfort. Just stillness, as if his words had dissolved the moment they left his mouth.

A few of them glanced at one another, not in shock, but in quiet annoyance. Someone adjusted their cuff. Another took a sip of wine.

Everything he said meant nothing to them. To these people, he was nothing more than a brat talking big.

Despite the blood and sweat he had poured into the company, the accomplishments he had made in J.S. High, and the things he had sacrificed to get to where he was now, he suddenly felt like a child lost in a crowd of strangers.

Max tried to touch the invisible brooches on his collar as tears began to form in his eyes. But just as they were about to fall, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the stares.

It was Étienne.

“That’s enough, Leigh, “ Étienne whispered, shielding Max behind him.

The entire family fell silent as they looked at the loyal butler. Their stares could intimidate anyone, but Étienne remained calm.

“I sincerely apologize, but my masters are tired after a long ride here. I hope, as their family members, you will understand the sudden outburst.”

No one responded.

“How could his sons be so disrespectful? Denzel will definitely hear about this,” Dante commented before taking his seat again.

Everyone thought the charade was finally over.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” 

However, they’ve greatly mistaken.

“He’s already here,” Étienne said as he gestured toward the entrance.

The room froze as the door opened, revealing the head of the family, Denzel Sinclaire.

Denzel walked inside with two bodyguards trailing behind him. The guests immediately stood from their seats to bow, but Denzel acknowledged no one until he reached his brother, Dante.

Dante bowed deeper as Denzel stepped closer, his eyes glaring.

“Dante,” he said, the mere mention of his name causing the others to flinch. “I wasn’t able to quite hear you from outside, but what did you say about my sons again? Would you mind repeating it? But this time, I want to hear every word loud…and clear.”

|END|

60 | Unwanted Guest

♜

EVERYONE FROZE IN PLACE as they watched Denzel tower over his brother. He didn’t look angry, yet his presence sucked the air out of the room. No one knew he’d come. Even his Max and Marcus had no idea.

“Denzel,” Dante said, terror threaded through his voice and his face. “I thought you weren’t going to come? Weren’t you in a different country?”

Denzel waited before saying anything. He eyed the people around him, familiarizing himself with the faces of those who dared look down on his children. His gaze alone left everyone uneasy.

Not a single person in the room could deny the impact that man had on a family that others claimed was the strongest. Even Max, who wasn’t fond of his father, could say otherwise. He built a reputation with skill, luck, and talent. The Sinclaire family wouldn’t have survived without him.

“I was,” Denzel finally answered. “But I flew right here as soon as I was done with my meeting. Though I was expecting a celebration, why is the atmosphere so grim?”

Everyone held their breath.

Denzel’s gaze swept the room until it landed on Max. He realized that his youngest was soaking, a sight he did not expect to see from his fiercest son.

“Who did this to you?” he asked.

Max looked away, jaw clenched. The last thing he wanted was his father’s attention, but Denzel never cared much about what his son felt. Whether he was angry or hurt, Denzel treated him the same. Others might see it as his way of showing affection, or something else entirely, but the fact remained: he was his son.

And when it comes to Denzel’s reputation, Max was a huge part of it.

“I know you’re not stupid enough to spill water on yourself,” Denzel said. “But I do know that you’re stupid enough to let someone do it to you.”

Max didn’t answer.

Marcus wanted to speak on behalf of his brother, but Étienne stopped him.

The butler walked up to Denzel, leaning close to whisper something in his ear. Denzel’s expression didn’t change as he listened to every word. 

When Étienne stepped back after relaying the events that came before his arrival, Marcus expected outrage. He thought his father would scold them for not being able to behave despite his initial order, but to his surprise, Denzel pushed past Marcus and stood before Dante’s daughter instead.

Elizabeth lowered her gaze as the head of the family came closer. She wanted to defend herself, but found no words.

Denzel stared down at her, and without warning, his open hand collided with her cheek in a swift, punishing motion.

Gasps rippled through the table. Elizabeth touched her cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. “U-Uncle, I apologize…it was an accident,” she stammered.

Denzel kept his silence and slapped her again. Dante looked away while his wife, Bernadette Sinclaire , could no longer bear it. She lunged toward Denzel, grabbing his arm to stop him.

“P-Please…do it to me instead. Not to my daughter,” Bernadette begged.

“Bernadette, go back to your seat!” Dante scolded, but she did not move.

“Brother-in-law, please. Elizabeth did nothing wrong.”

Denzel snapped, pulling his hand free. “Don’t you dare touch me with a hand that has only been used to please my brother you call a husband. I do not listen to those who have never lifted a finger to help this family.”

Bernadette’s eyes began to water, but Denzel showed no sympathy.

“And you,” he said as he looked back at Elizabeth, whose cheeks began to turn red. “The first one is for bathing my son with cold water. The second one is for disrespecting my eldest. If your mother touches me again, there will be a third.”

“Brother…” Dante tried to calm him, but he had no such luck.

“Brother? Don’t mock me, Dante. How dare you tell me that I need to teach my sons proper manners when yours don’t even know where they stand?”

Dante stammered back. “F-forgive me…”

Everyone watched Denzel with a mixture of terror and confused admiration. Some might have thought he was a father defending his children, but Max saw it for what it was. 

Pride.

Denzel defended his children to assert superiority, not out of tenderness. In a different crowd, he might have scolded Max instead. In this private circle, this was how he chose to act.

“Forgive me, brother,” Dante repeated.

Denzel wanted to reply to the supposed apology, but the tension was cut short when the old butler from earlier marched in, ringing a bell to get everyone’s attention.

“Please give your respect to Mistress Dorothea Sinclaire ,” he announced, and everyone looked toward the entrance as an old woman with a cane, assisted by a nurse, entered.

The woman looked frail, but everyone in the room bowed their heads to her, even Denzel.

“Why do you all look so terrified?” she asked, scanning the room.

Denzel, who had only looked serious since he arrived, forced a smile as he approached the celebrant. “Mother. Happy birthday,” he greeted. 

Dante cleared his throat and joined him, smoothing over the moment as if nothing had happened.

While the others began to swarm around Dorothea to greet her, Étienne touched Max’s shoulder. “Master Leigh, you should change your clothes before you face your grandmother. Please, follow me.”

Max nodded and walked out with his brother to change. Marcus watched the crowd before following behind them, amused at how everyone was able to act as if nothing had happened.

…

Laughter and cheers filled the dining room as the family began their celebration, erasing the tension that had once filled the room before her arrival.

“You haven’t shown your face to me in years, yet you act as though you owe me nothing,” Dorothea scolded her third son, Janus.

The champagne almost made Janus confess that he never visited because of her inherent ability to make him feel unwanted. But the sober side in him helped him keep his mouth shut about the matter.

“I apologize, mother,” Janus said. “But have you received the necklace I bought you? I got it in a charity auction. Heard it was owned by a princess in Spain during the 19th century. You’ll love it.”

“When are you going to stop with this school fantasy of yours and start helping out in the business?” Dorothea pressed on, completely ignoring the gift her son had mentioned.

Janus almost rolled his eyes back in annoyance, but he kept his smile intact. He prepared himself for this conversation. He knew how to handle it beforehand.

“Mother, I understand your worry, but I quite enjoy my time as the president of J.S. High. Besides, I’m still a major shareholder of Sinclaire Corporation. The money I make while housing those heirs is enough to help the company, don’t you think?”

Denzel, who sat across from him, listened with the same cool disdain he’d shown all afternoon. Janus sighed and remembered why he and Max got along. They both shared similar opinions when it comes to Denzel.

“You know what…” Janus got up from his seat. “Please excuse me while I drown myself in more champagne. Just continue to ignore my existence like you always do. Happy birthday, mother.”

Denzel wanted to scold his brother, but Janus was already walking away before he could say a word.

“That boy never changes, “Dorothea said, massaging her temple in disappointment.

While Denzel tried to ease his mother, Max and Marcus returned to the dining room. Denzel stood when he spotted them. “Mother, my sons are here. They would like to greet you,” he said.

The two approached, and Max moved aside to let the eldest take charge. 

Marcus stepped forward first and kissed Dorothea’s hand. “Happy birthday, Grandmother,” he greeted.

Dorothea smiled and squeezed his hand fondly. “Oh, Marcus. You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. And you’ve become quite handsome.”

“I appreciate the flattery, grandmother. But you look like you haven’t aged a day yourself,” Marcus said back, causing Dorothea to laugh.

Marcus then stepped aside, letting Max face her next. He followed Marcus’s lead, kissing Dorothea’s hand and greeting her with a happy birthday. Dorothea said nothing, but instead of giving Max a warm smile, her expression became more strict and serious.

“Maximilian, you seem to be enjoying the eyes of the public recently,” she noted.

“My success is the success of the family, Grandmother,” he answered respectfully.

“As it should,” she replied, then addressed Denzel. “I hope you’re keeping a close eye on this son of yours. If he makes even the smallest mistake, it will reflect badly on our family.”

“Of course, mother. Max is an excellent student and a brilliant son. He has not disappointed me yet, and I am confident he will not disappoint me in the future either,” Denzel said, and the sudden praise almost made Max feel sick to his stomach.

“I heard he’s very involved with the company. He would even take charge of the board meetings. Is this true?” Dorothea continued, ignoring the positive remarks Denzel had given Max.

As soon as Dorothea mentioned the company, Max’s eyes shot to Dante. Even without evidence, he knew that Dante had been feeding her these things before the party to get on her good side.

“It is important for Max to be involved in the company as he will be working there in the future,” Denzel explained.

“And how about Marcus? Have you been teaching him as well?”

Marcus started to speak, but Denzel stopped him. “He has been learning well at school. As soon as he graduates, he’ll take part in the company as I intend,” their father answered.

Dorothea nodded, finally satisfied.

“Then it looks like we’ll return to our seats and—” just before Marcus could finish, a guard came rushing to Denzel’s side. He excused himself and whispered something to the chairman’s ear.

Denzel nodded and whispered back. Afterward, the guard bowed and left.

“What was that about? Is there a problem?” Dorothea asked.

“No, but it seems my guest has finally arrived,” Denzel replied.

“Guest?” 

Murmurs faded as Max and Marcus turned to the entrance. 

“Looks like she’s here,” Denzel said as a figure emerged at the doorframe.

Everyone fell into silence—the kind that made the whole room feel suffocating. The woman who stepped inside smiled nervously at the dumbfounded crowd. People began to whisper, and the shock on Max’s face became evidently visible.

“ M-Mother ?“ Marcus stammered, his legs almost giving way.

Edith Thompson entered with a smile that grew steadier as she approached Denzel. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said before turning to face Dorothea. She ignored everyone watching as she handed her a gift. “Madam Dorothea, happy birthday.”

Dorothea stared, slowly standing from her seat. “What is the meaning of this?” 

Edith opened her mouth to speak, but Dorothea slammed the gift away. “How dare you come here uninvited…you mistress—”

Denzel cut her off. “I invited her here.”

“What?” Max asked, practically speechless at the foolish stunt his father was pulling.

“Denzel, if you have any pride or at least love left for me, and for this family, you drag this woman out of my house!” Dorothea shouted, her voice echoing in the dining hall.

But Denzel remained firm.

“No,” he said, taking Edith’s hand. “I came today, and I asked her to come because I have something important to announce.”

Max’s body froze before his father could say anything further.

Denzel knew Max like he was staring back at a mirror. But that meant that Max knew his father in return. He knew him well enough to predict what he was about to say next.

“In front of my family, who is here, I want you all to meet Edith Thompson,” he announced before turning to his sons. “My fiancée.”

|END|

61 | Father & Son

♜

“MAX,” MARCUS CALLED OUT , but Max didn’t respond. The room had fallen completely silent after Denzel’s sudden announcement, yet Max felt as if loud noises were thundering in his ears. His body wouldn’t move, though his hands trembled. He was speechless, while a thousand words scraped at the back of his throat.

“Max…” his uncle Janus called out at last.

Janus was as surprised as everyone else by the announcement, but the first thing he thought of was his nephew. He knew this would affect him more than anyone in the room.

“What the hell were you thinking, Denzel?” Janus muttered under his breath. He slammed his glass on the table and rose from his seat, approaching Max, who seemed to have been frozen in place.

Max flinched as Janus touched his shoulder. “This…this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening, uncle,” Max stammered, grabbing both of Janus’s arms with trembling hands.

Janus scanned the room and saw people staring—some with pity, others barely holding back a cruel amusement. When Janus turned to his nephew again and saw the tears already forming, he couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulled Max into a tight embrace.

As he held him, Janus fixed Denzel with a furious stare. “Have you no shame? Announcing such a thing without even telling your children first…without telling Max about this first…do you not know what that woman did to his mother?!” His voice boomed. Those nearby flinched.

Janus always seemed to be the drunkard at family gatherings. People were under the impression that he was someone you could ignore without care. But as Janus’s eyes blazed in fury, they could no longer deny it.

He was a Sinclaire. A powerful one who could almost rival Denzel.

“Brother, you might not have loved Luna, but at least show an ounce of respect to her son.”

Denzel opened his mouth to explain, but Max shoved Janus away and fled.

“Max!” Marcus shouted. He started after him, but Denzel released Edith’s hand and followed instead.

Denzel walked from the dining room down the hallway and found Étienne guarding a door. He expected the butler to step aside, but Étienne stood firm. Denzel inhaled and told him, “I would like to speak to my son.”

“Master Leigh would like to be alone,” Étienne quickly answered, without a hint of hesitation.

Irritation flickered across Denzel’s face. He knew that Étienne was loyal to Max no matter the cause, so there was only one way to make him listen.

“Move out of the way, or this will be the last time you’ll ever have the chance to guard your master.”

Étienne met Denzel’s gaze. He wasn’t afraid of him—he never was. Denzel had no power over his loyalty to Max, but he did have the power of taking Max away from him. It was the only thing he feared. 

After a long breath, Étienne stepped aside.

Denzel grabbed the doorknob. But before he could push the door open, Étienne turned to him and said, “You know my character, Denzel. I respect your personal affairs, and I try not to stick my nose in your business. But I hope you can differentiate a mere butler, and a son who has every right to be included in such important decisions.”

The tension between the two grew, but Denzel no longer said anything in return. He glanced at Étienne for one last time as he made his way inside.

The room beyond was an old painting studio. Dust motes drift in the shafts of sunlight from a single window. Blank canvases leaned in corners. The faint smell of old paint filled the air. With few lights, the room felt dim and private.

Max stood in front of the window and didn’t turn when Denzel entered. “I want to be alone,” he said.

“You know we have to talk,” Denzel replied, and Max laughed, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Oh, so now you want to talk? Didn’t you think of that before you proposed to that woman?” Max snapped, finally facing him.

Denzel refused to say anything as he watched Max take a step closer. 

“I never said anything. I never demanded or complained. But this…” Max said, looking straight into his father’s eyes. “This is beyond me. Out of all the women you could marry, you decide to marry your mistress?”

“Do not call her that,” Denzel shot back. The immediate response only angered Max even more.

“Why not? Is she not a mistress? Did you not embrace her while my mother waited for you at home? Is she not the woman you spent Christmas with while Mom and I stayed out in the cold until you returned? Is she not the mother of the eight-year-old child you brought into our house, the same child you demanded your wife to take care of?!” Max shouted, and Denzel finally looked away from his son.

“How badly do you want me to suffer like mother did? Huh? Did you want me to wake up in our house every single day and see the woman you cared about more than your own family?!” Max continued.

“Then what do you want me to do, Maximilian?” Denzel spoke, matching the rise of his son’s voice. “Your mother is dead. Do you expect me to just wait for my own death so we can be together again? Is that what you want?!” Denzel shouted, and Max came inches from slapping him.

“Why do you not understand?!” Max shouted back, stepping even closer.

“My mother loved you with the little love she had left in her. Out of everything that is cruel, she handed you the kindness that she could not offer to anyone else, yet you threw it all away for another woman.”

Marcus appeared then at the doorway. He ignored Étienne and managed to crack the door open. But when he heard Max’s voice, he stopped. 

“Mom is dead, and I have been reminded of that every single day. But I have nothing left of her memory…nothing except for one thing,” Max then revealed. 

Marcus paused upon hearing what Max had to say next. He wanted to leave, but his feet were now rooted to the floor. All he could do was lean beside the door, tormenting himself as he listened to what his brother was about to say next.

“The rightful heir to the company is the son of both the legal mother and father. If you marry Edith before I turn eighteen, do you know what happens to me?” Max demanded—words that made Marcus suppress a gasp behind his hand at the realization.

“Marcus will be officially recognized as the eldest. He would have the right to the shares you hold in the company. Now what would be left for me? Even if I take what the Lemieuxs have, it won’t be enough. Didn’t you know that?” Max said, voice cracking, but Denzel could only remain painfully silent.

Max stared at his father until realization flickered through him. 

“You do know…don’t you?” he whispered.

Max paused for a second before the room broke into laughter.

He laughed…

And laughed…

And laughed…

But as he was laughing, tears started to appear. The wave of hysteria gave way to loud sobs. He grabbed Denzel’s coat and began to beat his fists against his father’s chest as more tears streamed down his face.

For the first time, Max cried in front of Denzel. He cried in front of a man he once saw as his father.

Max had only been portrayed as this powerful heir. He was an unstoppable boy, driven and ambitious, inside his school and outside his personal life. But beneath all that, Max was only just a boy. A boy who was given responsibilities and expectations that were meant for a man.

Now, everything he worked for, and everything he sacrificed…it was all being taken away from him.

“How could you do this to me, Father? How could you do this to me?!” he choked, his voice echoing in the small studio.

Outside, Marcus clenched his fists while tears leaked down his cheeks too. Étienne, standing nearby, fought to hold back his own grief. He wanted to rush to his master’s side, but all he could do was listen and swallow his pain.

“How could you take the last thing I have of my mother? It’s the last thing she left me, and you want to take that away too! How could you?!” Max continued.

“Please…I have nothing left to lose but that company. Don’t take it away from me. Please dad, don’t take it away from me,” he begged, falling to his knees and grabbing his father’s hand.

“I’ll give you everything I have. All the wealth and assets under my name…it’s all yours…just not the company my mother died for.”

Max’s grip loosened as his hand slid from Denzel’s. He stared at the floor, tears falling onto the cold wood.

The quiet room got engulfed by Max’s painful cries. The wind blew the curtains, fluttering and dancing as Max clenched his chest. He gasped for air, holding onto invisible brooches that had given him comfort.

But despite all that—despite how his son crumpled on the floor in front of him, Denzel decided to look away…

…and remain silent.

|END OF VOLUME II|

VOLUME III

 “MJ and Hans are wasting such a useful heir like you. If I were them, I’d use you until you’re broken and useless.”

62 | Drunk & Dazed

♞

MAX STOLE THE CAR  keys from his butler and drove away without saying a single word to his grandmother or to any of his family members who were still at the Sinclaire mansion.

He had talked to his father after his surprise announcement. He knelt and begged, and the only words he could say were, “I’m sorry ,” and nothing more. He couldn’t explain himself. Couldn’t even try.

Max believed that he could never be wavered. He expected nothing of his father. He kept his hopes low to avoid further disappointments. But he overestimated the old man. He should have set them lower.

“I fucking hate you!” Max shouted like a kid, beating his fist at the steering wheel as he drove farther away from his father.

Farther away from Denzel and Edith.

Farther away from the family that never acknowledged him.

Once the car got quiet, the silence rang against his ear like a signal that snapped him back to his senses. Max gripped the steering wheel as he steadied his breathing. His mind was clouded. Rationality wasn’t an option. He needed to numb the feeling.

“I need a drink.”

Max shifted the gear and made a right turn. He didn’t know where he wanted to go, but now he did.

Without thinking of the consequences, he set his GPS to “The Mask,” where his friends once brought him.

The drive back was long and torturous. Every red light made him scream. Every green made him accelerate faster than he was supposed to. He wasn’t in the right state of mind, even when he arrived at the exclusive pub.

The sky had gotten dark. Max parked the car to the side of the building. Even after he turned the car off, he remained motionless. He gripped the steering wheel, once again replaying the memories of what transpired hours ago. A group of teenagers passed by, their laughter echoing down the street.

Max blinked and got out of the car.

Inside the pub, students from the houses instantly recognized him. Some wanted to approach, but stopped when they sensed the dark atmosphere around the young heir.

He didn’t have to say anything. His face told everyone that he wanted to be left alone.

“Give me the hardest one that you have,” Max demanded as he settled at the bar counter.

The bartender stared at Max, brows furrowed. He was curious about him, but he didn’t question him. He never questioned their patrons.

“Right away.”

After mixing up a concoction, he slid the glass in front of Max. “Here you go,” he said, serving a drink of black and red liquid. “Enjoy, but drink moderately. That shot packs a punch.”

Max stared at the strange drink longer than he should have. But despite the warning, he grabbed the glass and shot it in one go, the strong alcohol sliding down his throat like poison. 

The others watching were taken aback. 

“Every time I put this glass down,” Max said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and removing his necktie. “Another one has to be ready for me.”

“Sir, I’ve seen people drown themselves here, but this drink is only meant to be—”

Max cut him off as he slammed something on the counter. Those who saw what it was were left speechless. The bartender looked down and found an exclusive black card like no other. It was a card that only ten people in the entire world possessed. It was a rare item. Your chances of seeing it were one in a billion.

“I can pay,” he told him. “Triple the price. I don’t care.”

The bartender still wanted to decline. No money would be enough to persuade him from giving such a drink away so carelessly. 

“I’m sorry but—” he paused, double-checking the card when he caught the name written on it. “ Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. “ That was the name that was written. 

The bartender took a step back, staring at Max again to get a better look at his face. People were used to the refined version of Max. The bartender barely recognized him as he sat at the bar, looking disheveled and lifeless.

He had worked at the pub for two years. He had served hundreds of heirs and even got into a fight with them a couple of times. But Max was different. He knew he was different.

This was someone he could not refuse service to.

“R-Right away, Sir Maximilian.”

And just as Max requested, every time he shot his drink, a new one was immediately ready for him. 

The students watched with curiosity, then amusement, and eventually concern. But no one had the guts to step forward. They knew better than to disturb or stop him.

A couple of shots later, and maybe a couple of hours or so of self-torment, Max grabbed his fifteenth drink and chugged it down. He slammed the empty glass with heavy hands, his head throbbing as he waited for a new one. But his body could no longer keep up.

He turned toward the bartender, as if he was about to say something. But then his vision tilted. The words never came, and his head dropped to the counter until he finally passed out.

The bartender sighed.

“And he’s finally down,” he said, massaging his temple as he stared at the lifeless boy in front of him.

It had gotten late, and only a couple of patrons were left inside. The bartender grabbed the card from the counter and scanned it, charging Max with the exact amount he was supposed to pay, with an extra fifty-pound tip for the service.

The drink Max had ordered was called the “King’s Drink,” and it was the strongest and most expensive shot in the pub. Students usually ordered it as a dare or for a quick hit, so the bartender wasn’t expecting Max to have it as his only drink for the night, with no chaser to boot.

When the bartender realized Max wasn’t going to stop drinking, he secretly changed the ingredients to lighter ones during Max’s fifth shot. Similar in taste, but lighter in effect. He knew that Max would be too drunk to notice, and he was right. The last thing he wants is to have the most powerful heir in the world die in his bar because of alcohol poisoning.

But even with the lighter dose, he was surprised that Max got to fifteen. Others wouldn’t have handled ten at most.

“What am I supposed to do with you now? Do I get sent to jail if I touch you?” the bartender seriously considered.

Not sure what to do, he planned to call a waiter who could help him check if he had a phone on him, so they could call someone in his emergency contacts. But before he could leave the counter, the bell at the door chimed.

The remaining students inside the bar turned to the entrance. When they saw who it was, they all got up to leave.

“What the heck’s going on?” 

As the others walked out, the patron who had just arrived approached the counter.

The bartender instantly recognized him. He had visited the pub only once or twice during closing hours, but his terrifying presence was undeniable. It was something none of the workers could forget.

“W-Welcome, Sir…” a waiter, wiping a table, stammered.

The man said nothing and ignored the greeting. But as he walked past the bar, he halted and turned to the boy who was practically dead on the counter.

“Sinclaire?” he asked, approaching him.

“You know him, Sir?”

The man didn’t answer as he grabbed Max by the collar, pulling his body up to get a better look at his face. When he confirmed that it was him, he turned to the bartender and asked, “What was he drinking?”

The bartender didn’t say anything, but instead gave him Max’s receipt.

“Was he celebrating his victory or trying to kill himself?” he commented after reading through the list. “Is he with someone?” he asked next.

“No, Sir. He came by himself. I wanted to wake him up, but with everything he drank, that won’t be possible.”

The man stared at Max, contemplating what he should do to him. “Has he paid for everything?” he continued asking, and this time, the bartender nodded and handed him Max’s card.

The man stared at the card, glancing at Max as if he were weighing something down. After debating with himself, he sighed and grabbed Max’s arm, draping it around his neck so he could carry him on his back. Almost looking like a father carrying his kid after he fell asleep on the sofa.

“Alright, white uniform…let’s go,” he said, adjusting his hold on Max before heading out of the pub, carrying the young heir with no clue where he was even heading.

…

Max slowly opened his eyes, only to be greeted with an intense headache. He cursed at the pain and remembered what he did back at the pub. While massaging his temple, he sat up and settled himself, letting his body adjust to the movement.

“Shit…”

He scratched his eyes and opened them back before finally realizing that he was in an unfamiliar room.

“What the—”

“You’re finally awake,” a voice said, startling Max.

Max turned his head and almost fell off the bed when he realized who the person was. 

“Viktor?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes again to make sure.

Viktor, who was drinking tea and reading a book on the sofa, looked at Max and said, “Before you start accusing me of anything, I left you here last night and went back home. Then I came back here an hour ago and decided to have tea, which eventually led us to this.”

“W-Why? Why did you bring me here?” Max asked, dumbfounded at the whole situation.

Viktor surprisingly looked calm. He placed his book down and sipped his tea, finding nothing strange with the entire setup. 

“A very pretentious elite would shoot me if I left you in such a state,” he answered, which only confused the young heir even more.

Viktor chuckled and finally stopped stalling.

“You were drunk-dead last night. I would have driven you back to your mansion, but I thought that you might have actually run away, and bringing you back would have put me in a very awkward position,” Viktor explained. “Though it doesn’t really concern me, getting interrogated by that loyal butler of yours would have been troublesome. The easiest route was to bring you here.”

Max wanted to question Viktor’s decision, but he asked instead, “And where is here exactly?”

Viktor took another sip of tea before standing. “This is one of the flats that I own. I stayed here while our mansion was being renovated. I don’t use it anymore, so you can stay here as much as you want,” he suddenly offered.

Max nodded in understanding before realizing the last line. “What do you mean I can stay here as much as I want?”

“Does getting drunk steal away your ability to comprehend simple sentences?” Viktor teased as he stood in front of a window, staring at the view outside with his hands inside his pockets.

The room fell into silence.

“There’s someone you don’t want to see right now, correct?”

Max blinked, looking down to stare at his hand.

“I don’t know what happened to you. And honestly, I’m not interested enough to care,” Viktor said, his back still facing Max. “But I know for a fact that you’re not stupid enough to go to a pub and get wasted for no apparent reason when you’ve always maintained that perfect heir image of yours.”

Max remained silent, fidgeting with his cuffs like he was a kid being scolded by an adult.

Viktor always had that proud look on his face. But as he stared out of the city, his expression softened at the idea that for now, no one was going to watch him.

“In the past…” Viktor’s voice lowered to a whisper. “There are times when I just wanted to disappear, which is ironic now since most believe I’m dead,” he shared, and Max slowly looked back at him, surprised that he could even open up such a thing to him so casually.

“I could have left you in that pub or in the gutters for all I care, but I know a defeated man when I see one.” Viktor sighed, his lips trembling for a quick second. “I think—if I am even still capable of it—a little kindness…won’t hurt. “

Max clenched the sheets and tried to humanize the monster he had once seen in their king.

“Should I be thankful then?” Max asked.

Viktor drew a breath and pulled his hands out of his pockets.

“I don’t need shallow gratitude. I’m not holding you hostage here. You can go back anytime. I’m not going to stop you,” Viktor said, finally turning to look at Max.

“You can leave anytime, but you can stay here and cool your head. I don’t care what you decide on, but remember, you should never decide on something while you’re angry. Anger clouds your judgment, and the consequences will only bring you pain. That is all.”

Viktor walked past Max and got ready to leave. But just as he was about to grab the doorknob, Max said,  “I may not be the heir to the Sinclaire Corporation anymore.”

Viktor instantly froze in place, his eyes wide at what was revealed to him.

“I have done everything I can to secure my position. I’ve worked day and night, expecting to be the rightful heir to that company, jeopardizing my health and a chance to grow up like a normal kid, but in the end…I get nothing in return,” Max opened up, surprising both of them in the room.

Max didn’t know why he was sharing such a thing with him. Out of anyone he could think of, Viktor should be the last person to hear and witness his vulnerability.

But Max couldn’t stop himself. The words were already there. They were pressing against his throat, demanding to be said.

And for some reason…he wanted Viktor to hear them.

“I know that what I’m going through doesn’t amount to what you’ve been through, but—” Max paused as tears began to stream down from his eyes again. He cursed and wiped them away, but they wouldn’t stop.

Viktor, who was listening in silence, released a breath and turned back to the devastated heir. He approached him and pulled something out of his pocket. 

Max looked up and saw the handkerchief. It had the Stepanov logo engraved on it, which once again reminded Max of who this man really was.

He hesitated to accept it at first. Not because it was from Viktor, but because it seemed important. But when Viktor wasn’t putting his hand down, Max had no choice but to take it.

While Max wiped his tears away, Viktor spoke.

 “I’m a Stepanov, so I know how important a family company is to someone. I know because I’ve also sacrificed a lot to save mine,” Viktor told him. “But Sinclaire, when we are faced with something impossible, we have to remember one thing…”

Max looked up at Viktor, waiting for what he was about to say. He wasn’t expecting anything. Just a simple word of advice from a dead king. But what he said next was something that Max desperately needed to hear.

“You cannot steal what is already yours, so take it back with an iron fist. It doesn’t matter who stands in the way, whether it’s your friend or your family. Let them have a taste of what they stole…” Viktor’s eyes burned, his words piercing through Max like a dagger.

“And then mercilessly leave them with nothing.”

|END|

63 | Missing Heir

♞

“WHY ON EARTH IS MAX absent again? He finally ranked up, and he’s not even here,” Ervin complained as he, Ari, and Felix walked to the Great Hall for lunch.

As they arrived, Ari and his friends were surprised to see Krist and the rest of the Jokers already in their usual seats, and beside them at the next table were none other than the dukes, BND.

When Krist saw the three approach, he looked at them and asked, “Did Max come to school today?”

“No, and it’s already been three days,” Ervin answered for them.

Hans, who was sitting beside Krist, took a bite of his chicken breast and said, “Marcus hasn’t come to school either. We’ve been trying to contact him, but he hasn’t answered his phone. That’s why we’re wondering if you guys have.”

“None of us has called him yet. I mean, it’s not rare for someone to be absent, especially when he just finished participating in a competition like Mr. Brains and Brawn. He might just be sick in bed or something,” Ari said casually, nearly making Krist throw Brave’s juice box at him. 

“Try contacting him now, you idiot. This is serious. Are you even his friends?”

Startled by the sudden command, Ari pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Max’s number.

Everyone watched Ari, waiting for something to happen. But after a few more rings, Ari lowered the phone and announced, “He’s not answering.”

“Shit…” Krist muttered, angrily stabbing the meat on his plate with a fork.

“Wait, it’s only been three days. Why are we acting like Max is missing? We could just visit him at his house to check on him, right?” Felix asked, confused as to why everyone was so worked up. He thought Max was probably just sick or tired from last week’s event.

“That’s because he is,” Brave answered this time, making the trio whip their heads toward him in shock.

“What do you mean?” Ari asked, unsure he’d heard correctly.

Brave, eating his lunch in peace, took a sip of juice before looking at Max’s friends. “We were on the rooftop this morning when we saw his butler. We asked Rome and Toni to follow him, and apparently, the butler went to talk to President Janus, asking if Max went to school or if he had any idea where he might be.”

“What?!” Ari, Ervin, and Felix blurted, stunned at the revelation.

“We were just with him last Saturday. How could he be missing?” Felix asked, genuinely worried.

“We don’t want to assume anything yet, but it’s best if we can contact Marcus first. If I can get a hold of him, he might know what’s going on,” Hans explained.

Ari’s eyes widened as the implication hit him. “Don’t tell me…Is this connected to the bombing incident? Did someone kidnap him?!” he practically shouted, drawing startled looks from nearby students.

Red, seated at the next table, reached over and smacked the back of Ari’s head. “Be quiet, you moron.”

“W-wait…was he really kidnapped? Why isn’t it on the news yet? What the hell is going on?!” Felix asked, now clearly alarmed.

“There are only two reasons I can think of,” Hans said. “His family is probably keeping quiet about the whole thing, or Max isn’t coming home exactly because of his family. It’s best if we look for him in silence so we don’t attract unwanted attention.”

Ari nodded, though he wasn’t sure if sitting and waiting was the best thing to do. “I’ll keep calling him.”

“Me too,” Ervin and Felix said in unison. But before they could pull out their phones, trumpets sounded, and everyone stood to welcome the Royals.

“Great,” Krist said sarcastically as the members of PHD and Busters made their entrance. The students bowed to them—everyone except BND and Jokers.

As the Royals walked past one by one, Viktor suddenly stopped before the two brotherhoods and asked, “What’s with the long faces?” 

“This is none of your—”

“You still haven’t found your missing toy yet?” Viktor cut Krist.

No one in the Great Hall knew what Viktor meant, but the question alone made Krist’s and Hans’s eyes widen in disbelief.

With no one quick enough to stop him, Krist rushed to Viktor and grabbed him by the collar, yanking the king toward him with great force. “What did you do to him? Where’s Max?!”

Krist’s voice echoed, and the mere mention of Max’s name sent murmurs rippling through the hall.

“If you think I kidnapped him, you’re an idiot. As powerful as I may seem, I currently do not have the luxury to kidnap a Sinclaire,” Viktor said with a playful grin, angering Krist further.

“If I find out where you’re hiding him, I’ll—”

“You can’t find a person who doesn’t want to be found,” Viktor cut in, and Krist’s grip slowly loosened.

Once free, Viktor pushed the jester away and straightened his uniform. “Toys break, Baron, but you’re not his toymaker. It’s not your job to fix him. Not yet, that is.”

“Enough with your riddles, Viktor,” Hans interrupted, and Viktor looked his way, carefully analyzing his face.

Their expressions amused Viktor, but before anyone could say anything else, he went on, “You spoke so highly of him and even handed over your crowns, yet you don’t trust his capabilities and willingness to return. If you think he’ll abandon you, then you’ve only fooled yourselves.”

Hans and Krist clenched their fists, unable to argue because they knew he was right.

“I don’t know where your little toy is,” Viktor added, “and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re not the only one with secrets to hide…Master Joker,” Viktor finished, finally walking away and leaving BND and Jokers as he headed for the balcony.

As the Royals took their seats, Krist and Hans looked back at their brotherhoods, their faces a mix of concern, worry, and defeat. Those close to Max were puzzled, but unlike them, there were students at the council office who were completely clueless about what was happening.

“Have you heard, brother?” Justin—the Elites’ School Representative—asked, leaning toward his twin’s desk beside his.

Dustin—the Elites’ Treasurer—was busy calculating the school’s October budget. Without looking up, he asked in an annoyed tone, “What is it this time?”

As the Elites worked through their tasks, Justin whispered, “ Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire isn’t actually sick. He’s missing, “ he revealed, causing the Vice President Gavriil and Secretary Richard Young to glance over in shock.

Dustin, who hadn’t wanted to be bothered, finally looked intrigued. “What do you mean…missing?”

“Heard there was an uproar at the Great Hall. Master Joker mentioned Sinclaire, and apparently, Viktor knows something. I don’t have details, but it’s definitely serious,” Justin said.

Dustin opened his mouth to comment, but Richard cleared his throat. “I suggest you focus on your tasks rather than feeding yourselves with useless rumors. If Ian sees you two slacking, you’ll be in trouble,” the secretary warned them.

Justin pouted but went back to the pile of documents on his desk.

As the Elites continued their weekly reports in silence, Richard glanced at Gavriil. As expected, Justin’s rumor had broken his focus.

“That applies to you, too, Vice President Alexeev,” Richard said.

Gavriil took a breath and looked down at the documents. He tried to concentrate, but all of a sudden, he slammed his pen on the table, startling the others. 

“Excuse me.”

Before Richard could stop him, Gavriil had already left his seat and strode out of the office.

Richard sighed, massaging his temple, then shot a glare at Justin, who pretended he wasn’t the reason the vice president had rushed out.

…

Viktor sat on his throne at center stage, watching his brotherhood train on the battle grounds as he snacked on a pack of gummy bears. The Royals’ brotherhood base was the stadium itself, which gave them the advantage of training there.

“Vi,” someone called, making Viktor pause from tossing another gummy in his mouth.

When he realized who it was, Viktor sighed and shoved the pack of candy in his pocket.

“I didn’t ask at the Great Hall because you wouldn’t have answered me there, but is it true the white uniform is missing?” the prince, Kim Hee-joon, asked as he stepped in front of Viktor, blocking his view of Busters. When Viktor didn’t answer, Hee-joon pressed, “And is it true you know where he is?”

“Move,” Viktor ordered, ignoring the question.

“Answer me,” Hee-joon shot back without a trace of fear, which made Viktor smirk.

Without warning, Viktor pulled Hee-joon in between his legs, nearly seating the prince on his lap. With his intimidating eyes, he leaned closer and whispered, “ Jealousy doesn’t suit you, my prince .“

Hee-joon fixed his eyes on him, slowly sliding his slender fingers into Viktor’s hair before aggressively grabbing a fistful and pulling his head back, drawing a low chuckle from the king, who was forced to look up at the furious prince. 

“My patience is running dry, Viktor,” he said softly, but the threat was unmistakable. Hee-joon then leaned even closer until their lips were a breath apart. “ Keep playing these games, and you’ll have to look for a new prince who’s willing to please you .“

Viktor held his gaze, then grinned. “ When have I ever disappointed you ?“ 

He tried to lean in to close the gap, but Hee-joon let him go and stepped away, making Viktor groan in irritation.

“If that white uniform doesn’t return, and I find out it’s because of you, the deal we made is off,” Hee-joon said angrily, turning on his heel. PHD fell in behind him.

“Ren!” he called as he walked.

Ren Adachi, trailing behind the Hot Wingmen, jogged to his prince’s side. Hee-joon glanced at him and instructed, “Get ready. I have a task for you.”

Kim Hee-joon and the rest of his brotherhood walked to the exit. As the doors closed, Viktor sighed and rubbed his forehead in irritation. 

“You owe me big time, Sinclaire. Now I have to get on my knees and apologize to Joon,” he muttered. But just when he was about to enjoy his quiet, someone barged into the stadium, making Busters stop and look at the uninvited guest.

“Fuck…”  Viktor mumbled to himself before standing from his throne to welcome Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev, who stopped at the foot of the stage.

“Vice President,” he greeted with a pretentious smile. “If you’re looking for white uniforms, I can assure you none of them are here.”

Gavriil, who didn’t look like he’d come to be civil, stared up at Viktor, his anger blazing. Viktor nearly rolled his eyes. With a snap of his fingers, he sent Busters out, leaving the two of them alone.

Viktor settled back onto his throne. “Alright. How may I help you, rank number two?”

“Where is he?” Gavriil asked, and Viktor knew exactly who he meant.

“Seriously, if I hear about this again, I’ll shoot myself,” Viktor sarcastically said.

Gavriil’s expression didn’t budge, so Viktor cleared his throat and continued, “It’s only been three days. Everyone’s acting like he’s been gone a month.”

“You know something, don’t you? That boy wouldn’t disappear without a reason. It has to be connected to his family, and a Stepanov like you is bound to know what it is,” Gavriil said, annoying Viktor further because he was able to hit the mark.

“Fine. You’re right. It has something to do with his wonderful family,” Viktor gave up. “We, of all people, know his family has always been messed up. Others say the Stepanov clan is scary, but the truth is, it’s that boy’s family people should fear. They’re the real monsters. That’s why we never clashed with them.”

“So he’s not missing?” Gavriil asked.

“The white uniform is just cooling his head. I happened to find him in the gutters during an emotional breakdown, so consider it my act of kindness—or a gift—for what he did for us during the pageant. As the king of this House, it’s only proper that I reward him.”

“But you’re not capable of kindness,” Gavriil blurted.

“Funny.”

“Will he return?” Gavriil asked next, worry showing.

“You still haven’t changed, Gav,” Viktor said with a grin. “Sometimes I forget this is exactly why you held yourself back and reenrolled as a sophomore when you could have been graduating with us. You want to get close to him again, but you’re avoiding him at the same time like a fool.”

“You know how complicated it is. Of all people, you know it best. I can’t just—” Gavriil cut himself off and clenched his fist.

Viktor studied him. The vice president’s pained expression almost stirred pity. He didn’t want to say anything, but he rubbed his temple, breathed out, and said, “Grand Rosso, Westbridge Avenue. Apartment 501. Passcode 2213. You’ll find him there.”

Gavriil’s eyes widened, but he held his breath, committing every detail to memory.

“It was fun at first, but I’m tired of covering for that white uniform and taking the blame for it. Do what you want, but give the kid more time to be alone. If he still doesn’t return…” Viktor paused and slumped back into his seat, no longer amused. “Drag his whining ass back here.”

|END|

64 | Unexpected Visitor

♞

“WHERE THE HELL ARE you?” Jean Paul D’Amboise, Max’s second cousin and the CEO of Sinclaire Corporation, asked over the phone.

Max, who was smoking on the balcony of Viktor’s apartment, slowly exhaled the smoke and ignored the question.

Everyone had been looking for him, even his family, but he had stayed hidden to cool his head. And although he didn’t want to admit it, he was grateful for Viktor’s assistance, especially since Viktor’s personal guards sent him meals three times a day, which he sometimes barely touched.

Grateful or not, Max knew there would be a price for such kindness. He didn’t know what it was yet, but Viktor would not be so kind about it in the future. There was bound to be a catch.

“Max, it’s been a week now. Isn’t it about time you returned? Or are you planning to go AWOL for a month?” Jean pressed, but Max still didn’t answer.

Jean sighed. The silence stretched for almost a minute before he asked, “Look, I heard from some directors. It hasn’t been announced publicly yet, but is it true the chairman is going to marry Edith Thompson?”

“Yes,” Max finally said.

“That son of a bitch,” Jean muttered under his breath. “So your chances of inheriting the company are getting slimmer, huh? He must have planned it.”

Max didn’t respond. He chuckled and flicked away what was left of his cigarette.

“I want to be optimistic and say your brother would hand you the rights in a heartbeat if we asked him, but I’m a hundred percent sure that’s the last thing you want,” Jean assumed.

And he was right.

As much as Max loved the company, he loved his brother too. Marcus would give it without hesitation if Max asked—or even without being asked. But that wasn’t what Max wanted, and the fact infuriated him more. His only weakness was his brother, and Denzel knew it.

“If I want the company, I’ll take it on my own terms. I told Marcus to accept whatever our father intends to give him. I won’t swallow my pride and take back my words,” Max said, remembering the private conversation they’d had on his first day of school.

“So what are you planning to do?” Jean asked.

Max was silent for a second. He pulled another cigarette from the pack and lit it. As the smoke warmed his chest, he stared at the city lights.

“Hidden stocks,” he said at last, smoke drifting from his mouth as he spoke.

Jean was so surprised he couldn’t respond at first. When he found his voice, he asked, “D-did you just say…hidden stocks?”

Max inhaled the smoke in one go, as if he were intentionally trying to damage his lungs. He coughed and tossed the cigarette away before grabbing his third bottle of beer to chug it down.

“You heard me,” he said, setting the bottle down on the round table with a thud. “I’ve thought about this for days. Running a business gets your hands dirty. I’ve known that since I was twelve. As great as our empire is, we needed the underground business world to keep it running. That’s where hidden stocks come in. That’s one of the reasons why the Sinclaire Corporation is unbreakable.”

Jean shook his head violently from where he was standing. “No. I’m not letting you involve yourself with that part of the business. The hidden-stock shareholders are dangerous. Even your father couldn’t control them. The only person they trusted was your grandfather, Ulysses Leigh Lemieux. Their connection to him is the only reason they’re still bound to us.”

Max knew the risk. One wrong move could be fatal. If he misstepped, those people could pull out, tanking the company’s value. If he angered them, the consequences would be far worse.

“I know all that. Of course I do.”

“Then you should know that we can’t just—”

“But you’re forgetting one important thing, Jean,” Max cut in, leaning on the balustrade. “I’m a Lemieux too, and I’ll gain their support and reclaim my place as rightful heir on my own terms. If my father won’t give it to me… I’ll take it with an iron fist. Blood won’t matter anymore.” He spoke with conviction, repeating Viktor’s words.

Jean sighed on the other end. He wanted to stop him, but there was no backing out now; Max had made up his mind.

“Alright. I trust you. I’ll pull some strings and arrange something. Just make sure you don’t mess this up. If we lose the hidden-stock support, the company could implode, and you will end up with nothing,” Jean warned.

“Thank you, Jean. I knew I could count on you.”

Jean released another heavy breath. “This is getting out of hand. I always suspected this day would come. I knew that the Sinclaires would try to take everything from us eventually, but I didn’t think your father would be the one to start it,” he said.

“Jean, if you aren’t careful, your position as CEO might be taken too. Who knows, maybe they’ll hand it to Edith,” Max said, and Jean’s expression turned sour at the tasteless joke.

“That’s not going to happen because I won’t let it. Half the board is still on the Lemieux side. I worked too hard for this. I’m not letting them take it, especially not Thompson.”

“That’s good to know,” Max said with a smile. He reached for his bottle only to realize it was empty. He sighed and turned to grab another one from the fridge, but froze in an instant when he saw someone in the living room.

Max dropped his bottle in shock, the glass shattering as soon as it hit the floor.

Standing in front of him with his hands inside his pockets was the Vice President, Gavriil Alexeev.

“Max? What was that? Are you alright?” Jean asked over the line.

“Jean, I’ll call you back,” Max said. He ended the call without waiting for a reply and looked at the unexpected visitor.

“H-how did you get in?” Max asked in complete shock.

Gavriil didn’t answer. Instead, he approached Max and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the shards so he wouldn’t accidentally step on them.

Max yanked his arm free, scowling.

Gavriil, expression still unreadable, stared at the dark circles under Max’s eyes. In just nine days, he already looked thinner. There were even Cigarette butts and beer bottles littered on the floor. It was clear he’d stopped taking care of himself since he got there.

“I thought you didn’t want to be a chain-smoker,” Gavriil said, instantly annoying him.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” Max repeated, his tone colder.

Gavriil met his gaze and moved closer. “Viktor told me.”

“Vik—why would Viktor even—”

“Return to J.S. High,” Gavriil cut in. “Your protectors have been restless. I think a week is enough to cool your head.”

The mere mention of J.S. High hit Max with guilt, but he brushed the feeling away. “I have more important matters than J.S. High.”

“Is this how you repay the people who trusted you?” Gavriil shot back, and Max looked away.

The question stung. He understood needing time alone, but pretending no one was waiting for him was selfish, especially to those who had put their faith in him.

“You could have at least reassured them you’re all right instead of drowning yourself in alcohol and cigarettes. Has the great Maximilian fallen this far?” Gavriil continued to ask, provoking the heir.

Max clenched his fist and stepped closer. “You don’t know me, so don’t spit shit about me. You have no idea what I’ve been going through.”

For once, the calm, collected Gavriil showed an expression Max didn’t expect. It was soft and gentle, almost as if he knew exactly how Max felt.

“What makes you so certain I don’t?” Gavriil asked.

Silence thickened as they stared at each other. The longer Max held his gaze, the more his chest ached. A fog crept over his memory…as if there were something he should remember but couldn’t.

“Enough games. What are you doing, Alexeev? Why do you care if I don’t return to J.S. High?” Max asked at last.

Gavriil hesitated long enough that Max thought he wouldn’t answer. But after a while, Max watched as the vice president suddenly lifted his hand toward his face.

Max froze. He thought Gavriil was going to hold him. 

But just before the ends of his fingers could touch his skin, Gavriil stopped and pulled his hand back, fist clenching as if a painful memory came rushing back to him in that moment.

“You are someone I desperately…” Gavriil spoke, his voice almost a whisper. “…and hopelessly wanted to protect,” he said finally.

Max hadn’t expected an answer. And he especially wasn’t expecting that answer. But for reasons he couldn’t name, a tear slipped down his cheek, and something inside him throbbed with great pain.

“Why can’t I remember?” he whispered as the tear slid. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt the sincerity in Gavriil’s voice and the courage it took to say it. 

Gavriil opened his mouth to say something else, but Max stepped back in a panic, accidentally stepping on the glass shards he had forgotten were on the floor.

Max cursed under his breath and stumbled.

Gavriil ran forward to help, but Max tried to shove him away. “L-let go…”

Blood marked the cold floor where Max staggered. He continued to push the vice away from him as he walked his way to the bedroom. But just as he was about to push the door open, the room spun and his vision blurred. 

With no strength left in his body from all the alcohol he had been drinking, Max collapsed into Gavriil’s arms.

Gavriil held him and drew him close so he wouldn’t fall. It was the first time he’d touched Max, or even been this close to him again. Close enough to smell the cigarettes and alcohol on his skin.

In the hush of the room, Gavriil brushed Max’s hair back and wiped the tear from his cheek with an index finger. “ Leigh.. .“ he whispered, as if to test what the feeling would bring if he could call him by that name again.

Max didn’t answer. Gavriil exhaled, shifted his hold, and lifted him. He was surprised because he had gotten lighter than expected. “I’d scold you, but I’ll blame this on Viktor for letting you keep the cigarettes and alcohol,” he murmured, carrying him to the bedroom while Max rested his head on his shoulder.

He laid Max gently on the bed and reached out a second time. But just like earlier, or the last time at the clinic, he stopped himself and withdrew his hand. “It saddens me that you don’t remember,” he said softly. “But it’s better that you don’t, or neither of us would be able to move on from that tragedy.”

…

Max slowly opened his eyes at the cool touch to his forehead. As his vision cleared, he found Gavriil beside the bed, wiping his sweat with a damp cloth.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, voice weak.

“You’re finally awake,” Gavriil said. “I bought food and some medicine that should help.”

When Max tried to sit up, Gavriil slid a hand to his back to steady him. “Don’t move too much.”

Max ignored the warning and noticed the cuts on his feet had been patched. He glanced up to find the vice president watching him. The intensity in his eyes made Max look away from him.

Silence settled as he stared out at the morning light beyond the window. Gavriil must have been there all night.

“I want you to leave,” Max said at last.

Gavriil drew a breath, sat on the edge of the bed, and asked him seriously, “What if I don’t want to?”

Max clenched the sheets, still refusing to meet his eyes. He wanted to feel something, something like the sense of importance or belonging. But whenever he looked at Gavriil, all he felt was pain.

Seeing his reaction, Gavriil sighed. “I have nothing else to say to you, so don’t worry. For now, rest.” He paused. “But there’s something else I should tell you.”

Max didn’t ask what, so Gavriil continued, “I overheard your call last night while I was waiting in the living room.”

Max let out a dry chuckle. “Should I kill you to keep your mouth shut? Or spare you for taking care of me?”

“Hidden stocks…I know someone who holds a lot of power there,” Gavriil answered instead.

Max finally turned to him, his eyes wide in shock.  “What do you mean?”

“Charles Justin Mills,” Gavriil answered, holding his gaze. “His family owns the largest tobacco company in the world, and they hold the largest hidden stocks in the country.”

“T-that can’t be…” Max said in disbelief. He didn’t know how to react, or how to feel about the newfound information, but what Gavriil said next helped clear up a path that Max had thought was already blocked.

“Other than the hidden stocks, CJ Mills is also the leader of rank five, Cigarettes…a brotherhood you should be able to conquer next.”

|END|

65 | His Return

♞

THE WHITE UNIFORMS WERE running down the hallway, heading to the Keep as fast as they could. They heard that someone had finally returned after a week’s absence, and everyone wanted to see if the news was true.

“Princess Ariel!” someone shouted from the entrance of Class II-A’s room.

Ari, who had been talking to Ervin and Felix, looked toward the voice. “Master Joker?” he asked, confused. Before he could ask why the baron was there, Krist told him and his friends, “He’s back.”

Ari’s eyes widened, and without another word, the three jumped from their seats and ran to the Keep with Krist and the rest of the students who wanted a glimpse of their Mr. Brains & Brawn representative.

Back at the Keep, students stood around the entrance where cars dropped off arrivals. They didn’t know which car Max would be in, or where the rumor started that he would come today, but they waited anyway.

As the crowd buzzed, it suddenly parted when BND approached. Their leader, Hans, walked in the center with his usual charming smile. Marcus still wasn’t with them, but Hans had also heard the rumor and decided to head over like the rest of the white uniforms, even though listening to rumors wasn’t their style.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” Khian asked Hans.

“And is it really necessary that we all welcome him here?” Red added, but Hans didn’t answer either of them.

Just as BND reached the front, Jokers arrived as well.

“Where’s Krist?” Hans asked Brave as the two brotherhoods lined up beside each other.

“He’s telling Max’s friends,” Brave answered. Less than a minute later, Krist, Ari, Ervin, and Felix rushed in, joining the group that looked like it was waiting at the airport for a family member who hadn’t come home in a decade.

“Is he here yet?” Krist asked, panting.

“No, not yet,” Hans answered.

The two powerful brotherhoods waited with their fingers crossed. They waited for a minute, then five, then eventually ten. Some of the white uniforms were already heading back to their rooms in disappointment. 

Not until a car arrived.

There wasn’t a Sinclaire emblem on the hood, which they’d usually find in Max’s ride. But its absence still made them hope.

For some reason, they were all nervous. Max had been gone for over two weeks, and no one had heard from him—except Viktor and Gavriil, of course—which had left them restless. It shouldn’t have rattled them, but Max was their saving grace. They had placed all their trust and hope in this boy.

“Please be Max, please be Max,” Felix chanted, hands clasped as if in prayer.

The unknown car parked before them, and the driver stepped out to open the back door.

“Imagine if it’s not Max and the kid inside gets confused as hell,” Rome muttered, earning a nudge from Dhan to shut up.

As they waited in anticipation, the driver opened the door. A student stepped out—and Jokers, BND, and even Ari, Ervin, and Felix couldn’t hide their relief.

It was Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, in the infamous white uniform, crowned with the Jokers’ and BND’s brooches, as well as President Janus’s brooch.

Max wore a serious expression. Despite being gone for only two weeks, something felt different. It was as if he were stronger and fiercer. The Max who existed outside the walls of J.S. High was starting to show, and it unsettled the white uniforms who witnessed it first-hand.

Everyone was silent as Max stepped forward.

“Wow, I get a welcome like this now?” Max managed to joke as he stopped before the men waiting for him. That alone finally broke the tension.

“Max!”

Ari, Ervin, and Felix ran in to hug him. As they did, Krist shot the crowd a glare and waved them off, telling them that they had seen enough and should head back to their rooms.

“Max, I thought you were kidnapped!” Ari blurted, hugging him even though he wasn’t the type to do so. 

Max couldn’t help but smile as the rest of his friends joined in the embrace. He was glad to be back, but at the same time, he felt guilty for not being able to tell anyone what was happening to him.

“We missed you so much!” Felix said, and Max reached out to pat his head like he usually would.

“Thanks for coming back,” Ervin added, hugging him too after getting forced into it by Felix.

When the three pulled away, Max released a heavy breath and looked at the students in black.

“So you decided to come back, huh? I thought you’d forgotten us,” Krist said, arms crossed.

“I should take my crown brooch back. Clearly, you don’t care about us at all,” Hans added as he stood beside Krist.

They looked like doting parents, but everyone knew they were teasing. However, despite the attempt to keep the atmosphere light, Max didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. Instead, he removed his peaked cap, pressed it to his chest, and bowed to the two brotherhoods, stunning everyone.

“It was wrong of me to disappear, and it was selfish to act as if this mattered less to me. I take full responsibility for my actions, and I will return your crown brooch at once,” Max said, still bowed to the Dukes and the Barons.

Silence held for a second until Krist finally broke character, almost laughing at how formal Max was. He stepped forward, took Max by the arm, and pulled him into an embrace.

“I’m not letting you return my crown brooch. Not now, not ever,” Krist said, holding tight.

Max’s eyes widened, but he eventually exhaled in relief and hugged him back. He embraced his baron, familiarizing himself with his warmth after the loneliness he had felt during the Sinclaires’ family gathering.

“I gave you that brooch because Jokers trusted you,” Krist said, pulling away. “I was afraid at first, but we knew you’d return. And you did.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if you were gone a month,” Hans said next. “What matters is that you came back. So thank you for returning, Max.”

Max didn’t know what to say. He was so grateful he was speechless. But before he could gather himself, Arjun stepped up. “I know this is a big homecoming, but is Marcus with you?” he suddenly asked.

Max frowned, confused at the question. “What do you mean? Marcus hasn’t been going to school, either?”

Everyone looked at him. And the lack of an answer only deepened the confusion.

“Max, what the hell is going on?” Hans finally asked.

Max massaged his temple and drew a breath. “Let’s talk in private.”

…

The rooftop was silent. After hearing Max out, no one knew what to say. They didn’t know whether to comfort him or offer advice, especially to someone like Max.

“So Marcus is the new heir now, huh?” Khian asked, and Max nodded.

“I don’t know why he hasn’t come to school, but it might be related. My father could be preparing him, introducing him to executives and shareholders,” Max said.

Hans shook his head. “No. I know Marcus. If that were the case, he wouldn’t let your father use him while you were missing. He’s probably been looking for you these past two weeks.”

The thought sharpened Max’s guilt, but Red cut in, “It’s his selfish act of love, so don’t overthink it.”

“I don’t deserve my brother,” Max murmured, standing with his friends.

“You were always there for him when your father brought him into your household,” Hans said. “For instance, when he wasn’t allowed to attend school yet, you secretly taught him your lessons.”

“I also heard you’d sneak desserts to his room when he wasn’t allowed at your parties, even though it was happening in your own house,” Krist added, surprising Max that they knew.

Khian, Marcus’s closest friend, shared next, “You reached out and showed him kindness. Maybe it didn’t seem like much to you, but for a boy raised as an illegitimate son, it was everything. That’s why you both deserve each other. You shouldn’t think otherwise.”

“How did you all know that?” Ervin asked.

“Believe me, the guy’s hobby is bragging about how much of an amazing little brother Max is,” Leo answered, embarrassing Max even more. Leo is a third-year student. He’s not in the same room as Marcus and the others, yet he still knows about all those things.

“But if that’s the case, why not ask your brother to hand you the company?” Ari suggested. “If he loves you that much, he’ll give it to you.”

Max immediately shook his head to dismiss it.

“Of course you wouldn’t let that happen. You’re Max,” Brave said. “You’d rather take it yourself than accept it from Marcus. Right?”

Max sighed, rubbing his temple. “It’d be awful to ask him to hand it over. He’s been vocal about not wanting to inherit the company, but I still want him to hold onto it. Or at least try to. Because if I can’t take it from him, then maybe I’m not meant to be president.”

Everyone glanced at each other before looking back at Max. They’d expected Max’s take on it, but hearing it still surprised them.

“So if things don’t go well, you’re just going to give it to him? Just like that?” Felix asked with his arms crossed, his own heir instincts showing. After all, Felix had siblings too, but he wouldn’t hand the company over so easily after everything he had already sacrificed.

“Well, if things don’t go well,” Max repeated, stressing if . The confident smile that followed told them this cunning white uniform still had a plan.

“What are you going to do then?” Hans asked, one brow raised.

Max released a breath and looked at everyone. “The Sinclaire Corporation, once called the Lemieux Corporation, is known for owning the world’s most renowned hotels, casinos, and resorts. They also own cruise liners, private islands, and hold shares in airports and ports across the globe. But that’s not what makes them the most powerful,” he said.

Everyone listened as Max showed them a clear picture of why his family was considered the greatest.

“It’s not the billions they generate, or the reputation it upholds,” Max explained. “Ever since it was built, the company and the family stood unwavering…because of the people who passed through them.

Global summits. Private gatherings of the elites. Exclusive parties no one admits exist. We even know the affairs and scandals of CEOs and politicians who pretend they’re untouchable. We know all that because they happen within our walls.“

Max paused and stood firm. The mere sight of him made the others tremble.

“You can flaunt your surname, drive the most expensive cars, and own the biggest houses, but if you don’t know the real reason why the Lemiuex family has been on top for centuries, then it means nothing.”

“Then why did the Lemieux family stay on top for centuries?” Ari asked, and Felix almost hit him for not paying attention enough.

Max laughed and tilted his head slightly. “Connections,” he answered. “The Lemiuexs have connections. Connection is influence. And influence is power. That’s what the Sinclaires lack.”

“Okay, I agree with that, but what does that have to do with you reclaiming your inheritance?” Krist asked,

“You see, when you’re well-connected, you get to know different people in business. Even those in the underworld business,” Max said, and that finally made everyone look at him with disbelief.

“Don’t tell me—”

Max smirked. “Hidden stocks,” he finally revealed.

Two words confused some, but half the rooftop—including Felix—knew exactly what he meant.

“Charles Justin Mills, the leader of Rank 5 Brotherhood Cigarettes, holds the key to my success. Conquering him…will secure my victory against my father and the entire company.”

Hans, number 7 of Crème de la Crème, looked at Max seriously and told him, “Max, CJ might not be a member of Crème de la Crème, but his family is connected and has shares with all twelve of us who are in it. His family can topple the biggest companies in the world. He’s that powerful.”

“I know,” Max said, without a hint of fear. “I’ve prepared for this since the beginning. If I could conquer the two of you, conquering his brotherhood is possible, even though I know it won’t be easy.”

“It’ll definitely be difficult. As much of an asshole as CJ is at J.S. High, he doesn’t mix school affairs with family affairs. He keeps them separate because, like you, he isn’t on good terms with them,” Krist explained further, which only gave Max an idea of what to do first.

“If that’s the case, how is CJ going to help?” Rome asked.

Max touched his chin, thinking. After a moment, he turned to the leaders of BND and Jokers with a wide grin.

“I have a plan,” he said.

“Of course you do,” Ari muttered.

Max stepped up to the two leaders and briefly touched the crown brooches on his collar. “I’ve done my part to assist you. Now it’s my turn to use those I’ve tamed. This tamer has a new trick up his sleeve, and you, my barons, will perform first.”

Silence hung over the rooftop, but as soon as the words landed, a sinister grin curved the Master Joker’s mouth. 

Krist chuckled, glanced at his brotherhood, then back at Max. “Alright, little toy, how can these humble jesters assist you?”

|END|

66 | The Promise

♞

“WE STILL HAVEN’T FOUND HIM, SIR . Wherever he might be, it seems he’s being guarded by high security,” a man said on the other end of the line.

Marcus, already sporting dark circles around his eyes, gripped the phone to his ear and snapped, “How hard is it to find a fucking person?! Do I not pay you enough?!”

The man fell silent. 

Marcus raked a hand through his hair and stared out his bedroom window to cool his head. The sun was rising, which meant he had stayed awake another full day.

“Find him,” Marcus said quietly, ending the call and slamming the phone on the table.

Max had been missing for two weeks, and in all that time, only he and Étienne had shown the decency to look for him. His father—whom he hadn’t spoken to since the marriage announcement—showed no remorse or worry, which only enraged Marcus more. 

To top it all off, Denzel wasn’t even at the main mansion. He was with Edith at their supposed summerhouse, which now served as their lovers’ hideaway.

Caught in the middle, Marcus had to choose between supporting his parents or his brother. In truth, it had never been a hard choice. As others had guessed, the moment he heard the surprise marriage announcement, Marcus was ready to hand everything to Max. Even if Denzel hadn’t discussed it with him yet, being the legal eldest made Marcus the obvious heir, but he had no intention of taking it.

Especially not from Max.

Marcus was not greedy. He longed for a loving family, and his only true love was for the brother who had stood by him since childhood. He would give Max the world if he could, but despite wanting to surrender the inheritance for him, Marcus knew how prideful and just Max truly was.

He wouldn’t allow Marcus to hand something to him, especially when he knows that he isn’t worthy of taking it.

“Max, stop hiding from me,” Marcus murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple.

While he tried to calm himself, someone knocked on the door. Expecting a maid with more coffee, he said, “Come in.”

The door opened, and in stepped Max’s butler, Étienne.

“Sir Marcus, the master has returned. It seems he is back at J.S. High,” Étienne reported calmly.

Marcus stared at him, processing the information. After a beat, the expression on his face turned sour. With his hands clenched into a fist, he said, “Ready the car. I’m heading to school.”

Étienne watched him cautiously but said nothing. Without question, the butler nodded and left the room to do as he was told. 

As soon as the door closed, Marcus rushed to the dresser and pulled it open, revealing a black uniform that others had greatly feared.

[At J.S. High , Hall of Caelus]

The bell rang, and Max, Felix, and Ervin headed back to class after meeting with BND and Jokers. They had discussed the plan and were only waiting for the perfect moment to make their first move.

“I’m a little nervous,” Felix admitted. “Cigarettes may not be the strongest brotherhood, but they’re the most feared. This might not end like BND and Jokers did.”

“I’ve been strapped to a toilet and publicly humiliated. I think I can handle a bunch of Ashes,” Max said bravely, even though he wasn’t a hundred percent confident himself. Worrying out loud would only rattle the people who believed in him.

“I hope you’re right,” Ervin said as they reached Class II-A.

The moment they entered, the room went quiet. They all stared at Max like they’d seen a ghost.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m not dead yet, so relax,” Max said sarcastically as he headed to his seat beside Ari.

Thankfully, Max was already wearing a blue armband, which meant he was now a dweller. Dwellers were usually the ones that are in the safe zone, so no one gave any snarky remarks.

“Looks like winning Mr. Brains & Brawn helped after all,” Max said, taking a seat.

“Are you kidding? You’re practically a god now. Everyone just wants a glimpse of the great Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. They’re lucky you’re even their classmate,” Ari said, leaving Max unsure whether he was being sarcastic or not.

While the class went back to their seats, their homeroom teacher, Sir Kai Barron, arrived with Vice President Gavriil Alexeev.

Gavriil, following behind Sir Barron, set a stack of files on the desk, then glanced at Max’s seat to confirm he was there. He didn’t show it, but he was relieved.

“Can’t believe I’m seeing him this early,” Ari muttered with a disgusted look, unaware that the man beside him was the reason Gavriil had come to class despite Elites not being required to attend.

Gavriil took a seat, and Sir Barron began attendance. As he reached Max’s name, he drew a breath and glanced at him. “Welcome back, Maximilian,” he surprisingly told the dweller.

Max nodded to acknowledge the greeting, and Sir Barron proceeded to call the other names…until the door burst open. The surprise visitor barged into the room, and everyone immediately stood to greet him.

“Marcus?” Sir Barron asked in shock.

Marcus ignored the class adviser and strode straight to Max. He said nothing as he grabbed his arm and hauled him from his chair.

Ari, Felix, Ervin, Gavriil, and the rest of the class gaped as Marcus dragged Max out. Gavriil started to rise, but Sir Barron shot him a look, forcing the vice president to sit back as the door shut behind the brothers, leaving the class speechless.

No one spoke, so Sir Barron cleared his throat, acting as if nothing had happened. “Alright, where were we?”

Meanwhile…

In the hallway, Max tried to pull his hand free, but Marcus’s grip was too strong. Max eventually gave up and let his brother drag him to an empty laboratory. When they got there, the duke closed the door and finally released Max’s wrist.

“Marcus, I—”

“How could you?” Marcus immediately cut in. “How could you leave me? When everything fell apart, I had no one to run to. I wanted to cry, to be angry, but I had no one…no one but you.”

Max looked away. Each word pierced his chest. He had been a storm of emotions since the announcement, and, as Viktor warned, he shouldn’t have made decisions in anger. He had forgotten the people who cared, especially his only brother.

“Aren’t we brothers? When things like this happen, we’re supposed to be a team. A family. I’m not a stranger, Max. You don’t just disappear for days without a word.”

Max clenched a fist over his chest, trying to hold himself together. “Marcus, how could I…” He drew a breath. “She’s your mother. I didn’t want to make you choose between—”

“She gave me away, but you stayed. You are more family to me than anyone.” Marcus’s voice rose, his eyes glistening from the unshed tears. “Choosing never crossed my mind…because I will choose you, Max, a million times over.”

Max stared at Marcus and noticed how exhausted he looked. The fact that he hadn’t even considered his feelings until now had only buried him with guilt.

“I don’t care about that company,” Marcus said at last.

Max’s head snapped back to him.

“If the time is right, I can give you—”

“We both know Father and your mother won’t allow that,” Max said, finally meeting his brother’s eyes. “I could get on both knees to atone for my selfishness, but what’s done is done. I’m sorry, Marcus, for worrying you and everyone else. But I needed time for myself. Disappearing…it was the only thing that made me feel like I still had control over my life. I hope you understand that.”

Marcus said nothing and finally let the tears fall. 

Max sighed and stepped closer. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Marcus’s tears for him. “Barging in my classroom like a tough guy and now crying like a kid right after I said sorry. You’re seriously hopeless.”

While Max continued to wipe his tears away, Marcus studied him and, again, remembered why Max had always felt like the older brother. He had been forced to grow up too fast. The way he perceived things was way too mature for his age. He wasn’t sure if he should admire him or feel pity.

“Look, I have no intention of forcing you to hand me the company, just as Father has no intention of handing it to me. But do you remember the promise we made?” Max then asked, stepping away.

Marcus nodded.

“ As the eldest, you become the rightful heir to the Sinclaire family. Take whatever Father intends to give you. Be by my side as one of the greatest, and only then will you be equal to me. If you do that, you will definitely be able to take your long-awaited revenge ,“ Marcus recalled Max saying.

“I remember every word,” he answered.

“Then don’t fight it. Be the rightful heir to the Sinclaire family. In exchange…” Max paused, now determined. “I’ll be the rightful heir to the Lemieux.”

“What?” Marcus blinked, uncertain if he had heard his brother correctly. “You just said…Lemieux.”

“That’s right. I’m tired of acting like I have no control—that I have no other choice but to accept the situation. But it’s time we fulfill our promise, brother. Let’s take everything, and let’s see who will reign in the end.”

…

“You’re seriously an idiot, Max. I’m telling you,” Ari complained as they headed to the Great Hall. “Your brother was ready to give it to you. I don’t care about pride. I’d take it in a heartbeat. In times like these, be practical,” he went on, until Felix nudged him to shut up.

Max laughed, then answered anyway. “I’ll admit pride is part of it. But this is more about my father. Even if Marcus gives me the company, he and Edith will make sure it doesn’t happen. The only way to take it is my way.”

“So, going against Cigarettes helps with that? Where’d you even get that idea?” Ari asked, and Max looked away, trying to avoid the question. He knew the idea had come from Gavriil, and he wasn’t ready to discuss that connection yet, especially when Ari wasn’t a big fan of him.

“Well, whatever you’re planning, just be careful. When you were conquering Jokers, their underlings were already a huge problem. Back then, the Jacks were so notorious even when they weren’t fully controlled by Master Joker,” Ari reminded his dear friend. 

“No offense,” he added, glancing at Ervin.

“None taken,” Ervin replied.

“What this fake redhead was trying to say is that Cigarettes created the underling system. They have the most organized underlings who follow strict and direct orders from CJ. But Lighters alone aren’t the biggest threat. What you really have to watch is the—”

“Ashes,” Max finished for Felix.

“Right. The Ashes—the four best underlings of Cigarettes. They automatically become members when the seniors graduate,” Ervin said, but Max began to shake his head.

“N-no…I meant the Ashes,” Max said, pointing down the hall.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin turned as four students approached them wearing black leather masks over their mouths, Cigarettes’ underling brooches on their collars, and gold armbands that marked them as gaffers.

“Well, shit,” Ervin said as he readied himself. “Okay, I’ll hold them off. You guys run.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m not running,” Ari argued, stepping in beside him. “I’m an underling too from the third-strongest brotherhood. I can handle them.”

“You two should run and hide,” he added to Max and Felix. “Our brotherhoods are your protectors. It’s natural the underlings protect you, too.”

Of course, saying that to Max was pointless. He hadn’t trained for a month with BND just to run. He literally tackled Kingston Creed during the competition, and the bastard was stronger than him.

“You’re such a twit. There are four of them. If we leave, you’ll be outnumbered,” Felix said, moving to stand with them. Max joined as well.

The Ashes came within a meter.  The four of them were ready to throw punches the moment they made a move, but just when they thought hands would begin to fly, the four members of Ashes walked past and completely ignored them.

The quartet was stunned. 

When the Ashes were already walking away from them, they all sighed in foolish relief.

“Okay, I’ll say what everyone’s already thinking. We’re all idiots. Why did we assume they’d attack us?” Felix said, making Ervin almost laugh since he expected a fight, too.

“Well, when there’s Max, there’s always trouble,” Ari pointed out…only to be proven right at the very next second because the moment they let their guard down, one of the Ashes turned and flicked something toward them.

A silver ball, the size of a ping-pong, rolled to their feet. All of them watched in silence, still too confused to even comprehend what it was.

The ball stopped just in front of Max’s boot. He was about to bend over to inspect what it was, but when he noticed a timer, his heart dropped.

“Cover your noses, now!”

Ari, Felix, and Ervin were stunned at the sudden command. They couldn’t cover their noses in time as the ball opened, releasing some kind of smoke.

When it finally kicked in, Ervin and Ari immediately covered their mouths. Max, on the other hand, reached for Felix to cover it for him. But unfortunately, they were already too late.

Their eyes filled with tears, and, one by one, they crumpled to the floor…and fell unconscious.

|END|

67 | Playing With Fire

♞

MAX SLOWLY OPENED HIS EYES, his head aching as if someone had just hit him. He processed the situation and realized he was in a dark room with the only light coming from a spotlight above.

The setup felt almost familiar. His hands and feet were once again tied, but unlike the Jacks, they didn’t strap him to a toilet. There were no crude writings on his body either. Max didn’t know if he should be angry or laugh at the strange parallelism.

“Max! You’re awake!” someone shouted, startling him.

He squinted, and to his surprise, Felix, Ari, and Ervin sat in front of him, also tied to chairs.

“What’s going on? Where are we?” Max asked.

“We don’t know,” Ari answered.

“I can’t believe you just returned, and now we’re kidnapped. I’m starting to wonder if befriending you was a good idea,” Ervin managed to joke.

Before Max could say anything about the sarcastic remark, the door opened, revealing the four Ashes they had encountered earlier.

“You bastards! What do you think you’re doing?! Do you even know who I am?!” Ari burst out, making Felix shoot him a look, begging him to just shut up.

One of the Ashes stepped to Ari with a hard stare. “We know better than to get involved with a gaffer, let alone a Dukes’ underling. You’re only here as a spectator.”

Ari didn’t understand what he meant,  but then the door opened again, revealing a white uniform that the three recognized in an instant.

“You…” Ervin snapped. “You fucking son of a bitch,” he said as the boy approached, grinning widely.

Ari and Felix couldn’t say anything because the person in front of them was none other than the white uniform who had feuded with Master Joker and had been kicked and shamed in the Great Hall by Viktor. 

Back then, he was a fearless gaffer, but the blue armband on his arm showed that Gavriil had suspended him and stripped him of a thousand points, dropping him to dweller.

“I should have known only a coward would pull a stunt like this,” Ervin said.

The boy chuckled. He stared at Ervin for a while before driving a fist into his gut, causing the others to gasp in shock.

“Ervin!” Max shouted, glaring. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Who the fuck are you?!”

The boy turned to Max and grabbed his cheek. “You don’t know me? Let me introduce myself then. My name is Arthur Brooks , underling of the counts. I was a Jack before, but because of you, I was forcibly removed. Because of you, I was humiliated by Master Joker, and my gaffer title was stripped away!”

“You weren’t forcibly removed,” Ervin immediately defended. “The master gave you a choice. You either stay and apologize to Max, or you leave and never come back. You chose the latter. This was your own doing. Whatever happened to you after that no longer relates to us.”

Max frowned. “Apologize…to me?”

“After the incident at the Great Hall, we found out that Arthur here was also one of the masterminds behind the pranks you got when you received the Jack-in-the-box,” Ari revealed, and Max finally understood everything. The realization clicked like a switch.

“No wonder the tying skills are still sloppy,” Max mocked before looking back at the agitated Arthur. “So you decided to do the same trick twice just to blame your misfortune on me? How pathetic.”

Arthur gritted his teeth and let go of Max’s cheek. He chuckled at the snarky comment before throwing a punch at Max’s face, causing the side of his mouth to bleed.

“Max!” his friends cried.

Max felt the pain in his jaw, but before he could process what had happened, Arthur kicked him in the stomach. The impact almost made him vomit.

“Stop! What are you doing?!” Felix shouted, trying to break free from the rope that was tightly tied around his wrist.

Arthur ignored their plea and continued kicking Max until saliva slicked his mouth. It was almost as if he were copying what Viktor had done to him in the Great Hall.

“I was waiting for you to return. You shouldn’t have come back, Sinclaire,” Arthur said, kicking again.

“Stop this! BND and Jokers won’t let it slide! If you think you’ll get away with it, you’re out of your goddamn mind!” Ari yelled.

Arthur paused and looked at their stricken faces, laughing. “Those who submit to Sinclaire are the real fools. If you think we’re afraid of Jokers and BND, you’re wrong. What will they do? Lecture me? BND doesn’t even have customs, which means they can’t touch me.”

Ari and the others couldn’t believe what they were hearing, especially from someone Viktor had already beaten. If even the king couldn’t keep him in line, then he really was a lost cause.

“I’ll make Sinclaire feel what I felt. I’ll show him the true power of Cigarettes,” Arthur threatened, his eyes barely recognizable.

No one said a word. They were too stunned at the insanity that was being displayed. But just when it seemed like all hope was lost, laughter slowly crept into the room.

Everyone turned their heads.

It was Max.

Max’s entire body was aching, but instead of feeling despair, he couldn’t keep it together. “You idiot,” he said, tears forming in his eyes from the outburst of laughter. “Your boss, CJ…he d-doesn’t know what you’re doing…doesn’t he?”

His friends furrowed their brows, but then they saw how Arthur instantly stiffened. The mere mention of the count’s leader definitely struck a chord.

“I heard he walked away…w-when you pissed your pants…in the middle of the Great Hall,” Max struggled to say, but it was enough to provoke the supposed Lighter.

Arthur grabbed a fistful of Max’s hair. “Do you even know what CJ did after they treated me at the clinic? As if the king wasn’t enough, he dragged me out of bed and beat the shit out of me too until I was sent to the hospital! After swearing my loyalty to him, this is what he does to me?!”

When Max heard what Arthur had to say, he immediately looked at his collar. It was only then that he realized that he no longer bore the Cigarette brooch.

“Looks like CJ took your underling title, too,” Max revealed, surprising not only his friends but also Arthur.

Max drew a breath and steadied himself. “The men outside…they aren’t the real Ashes. This guy is pretending he’s still with Cigarettes so he can use us to take revenge on them.”

“He wanted revenge on CJ…and we’re the bait,” Ari realized.

“Now that I think about it, Lighters follow direct orders from Cigarettes. They aren’t like Jacks,” Ervin added. “They’re not allowed to make a move without their orders. What you’re doing is completely against their rules. You’re fucking dead, Brook.”

Arthur cursed under his breath, angry he’d blown his cover, and furious they’d pieced it together.

“CJ may be an asshole, but he created the Underling System. He won’t back an underling who disrespects it.” Max’s expression turned serious. “God, you should have stayed a Jack.”

Arthur could no longer contain his anger. He drew back to punch Max again when the door burst open. The supposed Ashes rushed in, but this time without the masks.

“Arthur, we have a problem. We’ve gotta go,” one of the white uniforms said in a panic.

Arthur turned to ask what it was, but then he froze in an instant. Someone entered with a menacing aura. Arthur could barely stand as fear began to consume him.

“B-boss…” Arthur stammered, hands trembling.

CJ—leader of Cigarettes—stepped inside the dark room, the real Ashes following right behind him.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin watched as the color on Arthur and his crew’s faces faded. At first, they thought it was an act, but then CJ came closer, and they instantly understood where the terror was coming from.

His aura was different. Unlike Master Joker or Hans, CJ radiated fear more than respect. Looking at Arthur’s reaction, they could imagine what had driven him to this.

“So it was true,” CJ said with a sadistic grin. “One of my Lighters reported a group pretending to be my Ashes. I thought it was a prank, but seeing the culprit…it makes sense.”

“Boss, there’s been a mistake,” Arthur said as CJ closed the distance.

“Don’t call me that. You’re not my underling anymore, remember?” CJ said, moving nearer until Arthur flinched. He stared at him for a solid second before he snapped his fingers. The Ashes seized Arthur and the fakes.

“Bring them to the smoking room. I’ll handle them later,” CJ said.

As soon as he heard the words “smoking room,” Arthur began to thrash. “N-no, not the smoking room! Anything but there! Please! Boss! Spare me!”

The four friends exchanged a look. They’d never heard of a smoking room, but from Arthur’s reaction, they could tell that smoking cigarettes wasn’t what they did there.

“Boss! Please!” he screamed as they dragged him out.

As the door closed, the room became painfully quiet. 

They were now left alone with CJ.

Ari couldn’t get a word out. He had shouted at Arthur, but under CJ’s intense gaze, he couldn’t move. None of them could. For a rank five, CJ’s presence was alarmingly close to Viktor’s.

“Wow…” CJ inhaled and adjusted his gloves. He glanced at Ari, Felix, and Ervin, who flinched at the eye contact. Then he looked at Max and chuckled at his condition.

“I was annoyed I had to come all this way for that fucker,” he said, strolling toward the beaten dweller, “but seeing you here in that state seems to have made it worth it.”

Max, still weak from Arthur’s beating, could only watch him approach.

The count leaned in and toyed with the brooches on Max’s collar. He almost laughed at Jokers’ and BND’s crowns but didn’t. Instead, he pinched the Sinclaire brooch, the one that shielded Max from being physically targeted by the Brotherhood leaders.

Seeing the brooch made the side of CJ’s mouth twitch. One touch could get him suspended. Luckily for him, no one was here to see.

“Serves you right, you little bitch,” CJ said. And before anyone could move, the count kicked Max so hard the chair tipped, sending Max crashing to the floor.

Ari and the others wanted to shout, but they could only watch, horror-struck, as Max gasped for air. The kick literally knocked the wind out of him.

CJ scoffed and looked down at the struggling white uniform. “Oh, come on. That was only one kick. The ones Arthur gave you obviously weren’t strong enough, so I thought I’d show you what a real kick felt like. I guess that was too much for you. My bad.”

He stepped onto Max’s cap that slipped off his head, leaving a shoe print, then planted his boot on Max’s neck, pressing down until saliva streamed from Max’s mouth.

Ari clenched his fists, helpless. He wrenched against the ropes, but it was no use. Ervin and Felix did the same, but it was impossible. Their wrists were starting to bruise, but they still couldn’t get their hands free. 

“P-please…stop…” Felix began to beg.

Without lifting his foot, CJ looked over his shoulder. “What did you say?”

Felix swallowed. “Please stop.”

CJ grinned and pressed harder. Max’s vision flickered.

“Please! Stop! You’re killing him!” Felix cried this time, but CJ continued to ignore him. They eventually realized the more they spoke, the more he would toy with them. So with a heavy heart, Felix finally shut his mouth.

“Damn, that’s it? So much for loyal friends,” CJ mocked. “You know, I could do this all day. And after I’m done with you, I’ll go to that redhead next who always looked so smug,”  he said, and Ari’s fists tightened.

“ P-please…l-let…g-go…“ came a weak voice.

They thought Felix had broken again, but then they saw that it actually came from Max.

“P-please…” he begged.

CJ licked his lips, then finally lifted his boot. Max coughed violently, sucking air like a drowning man breaking the surface.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” CJ said, crouching so he could study Max up close. “I’m a nice guy, you know? When someone begins to beg, you have to show compassion. That’s how the world works.”

Max said nothing and glared.

CJ grinned at the response.

“MJ and Hans are wasting such a useful heir like you. If I were them, I’d use you until you’re broken and useless.” He clamped Max’s cheeks in his gloved hand.

Staring into his eyes, CJ tightened his grip. “When are you conquering me next, little Maxy? I’m so excited. We’re going to have lots of fun together.”

Ari, Felix, and Ervin practically trembled as they stared at the count’s sadistic grin. CJ was one of those leaders you barely came across. There were a bunch of rumors about him, rumors that were so cruel no one believed them. 

But now, as they watched the leader toy with Max like he was a broken doll, they finally realized that those rumors…

Were all very much true.

“What other tricks do you have up your sleeve? You planning to be my homeboy? Oh, please do. I have so many plans for you, little Maxy,” he continued in a baby voice, clearly enjoying how vulnerable Max looked beneath him.

“This is so much fun! No wonder MJ and Hans adore you.”

His gaze then dropped to the crown brooches. He brushed them with a fingertip, then looked back at Max. “You’re like a Boy Scout collecting badges after a job well done. It’s almost admirable, but I don’t like people who do well. I like them insane. I like them crawling on the floor, elbows and knees bleeding,” he said.

“You think conquering Jokers and winning a stupid pageant makes you tough? You think everyone else is just going to blindly follow you?” CJ chuckled. “You’re not broken enough for me, Maxy, so what are you going to do about it?”

Max couldn’t answer, and CJ only laughed. But then, as if a switch flipped, his face went cold. He leaned to Max’s ear and whispered, “ Play with fire…and I’ll show you ashes .“

He released Max’s cheeks and cast a final look over the four of them.

“Time flew by fast. It’s a shame, but I have to go. Someone is waiting for me in the smoking room,” CJ said as he walked to the exit.

But just when they thought he was finally going to leave, CJ smiled like he had a brilliant idea. He turned back around and stepped in front of Max. Ari and the others thought he was going to give Max a final blow, but to their surprise, CJ grinned, touched his chest, and suddenly bowed.

“That’s what you want, right? Is it as pretty as you imagined?” CJ sarcastically asked before finally leaving the room, his laughter echoing as he slammed the door shut.

They all stayed frozen in place, stunned at what they had witnessed. They couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. But despite the disbelief, one thing was for certain.

You needed fire to light a cigarette.

But playing with fire…could surely get you burned.

|END|

68 | The Tobacco Deal

♞

HANS WAS WALKING DOWN the hallway beside the leader of the barons, Master Joker, while their respective brotherhoods followed behind them.

“The reconstruction of the greenhouse is finally complete, and we’re allowed to move back tomorrow. I hope you don’t miss us too much, jester,” Hans teased, glancing at Krist, who was chewing bubble gum.

Krist rolled his eyes. “In your dreams. I’m actually glad you’re finally moving out. The rooftop’s too crowded with you around.”

“Really?” Hans asked, one eyebrow raised.

“He’s joking. It’s his coping mechanism,” Brave butted in from behind, earning a punch to the shoulder from Krist, and a round of laughter from both brotherhoods.

As the laughter faded, Hans looked back at Marcus, who had been quiet since he returned. Earlier, they noticed how exhausted he looked. They wanted to ask what had happened these past two weeks, but Hans chose to let him breathe. If Marcus was ready to talk, they would listen.

“Anyway, I’m starving. I hope they serve Chicken Makhani again,” Khian said, then glanced at Marcus. “How about you, Marcus? Craving anything?” He casually draped an arm around him like normal, so it wouldn’t feel like they were tiptoeing around him.

Everyone looked at Marcus, expecting his usual easy smile. But this time, he didn’t even look at Khian when he answered, “I’m not really hungry.”

The air around him felt dense. Before it could turn awkward, Rome cleared his throat. “I’m not hungry either. I’m trying to lose weight,” he shared.

“Why the fuck are you trying to lose weight when you’re still so young? Eat while you can, you clown,” Red scolded, causing the young jester to glare at him.

“Sure thing, Mom,” Rome shot back, earning another round of laughter and easing the tension.

Still, as they walked, Hans and Krist traded a look, then glanced at Marcus again. They were worried, but knew they couldn’t help him right now. The only person who could talk some sense to him was his brother, but it seemed like their earlier conversation didn’t quite help whatever it was Marcus was feeling.

“Maybe I’ll just buy—” Rome began, but a white uniform sprinted toward them before he could finish. The brotherhoods were surprised. Hans recognized him as one of their Roses.

BND and Jokers stopped as the student skidded to a halt.

“My dukes,” he said, bowing to BND with respect, then turned to Jokers. “Barons.”

Krist dipped his head in acknowledgment. The other Jokers, still unused to the kind treatment, stood there awkwardly.

“What’s the matter? Do you have something to report?” Hans asked.

“One of our Roses reported four white uniforms pretending to be Ashes. He couldn’t see their faces because of the masks, but he was certain that they were frauds,” the Rose said, surprising both brotherhoods.

After hearing the report, Arjun stood beside Hans while Brave stood next to Krist.

“Why would white uniforms mimic the Ashes? Do they want CJ to kill them?” Arjun asked, frowning.

“Maybe it’s a prank. They’re white uniforms. We can’t do much about them, so who cares if CJ catches them?” Toni pointed out, and many nodded in agreement.

“Unless there’s more to it,” Leo added, and they all looked back to the Rose.

“We don’t want to alarm the dukes or blow this out of proportion, but Sinclaire and his friends haven’t reached the Great Hall even though class ended twenty minutes ago,” the Rose revealed, and both brotherhoods finally understood why the Rose had to inform them about it.

“You idiot! You should’ve led with that!” Krist snapped, and the Rose immediately bowed in apology.

“Okay, let’s stay calm. They’re white uniforms,” Hans said evenly. “I doubt they’ll try anything drastic, knowing Max is backed by both BND and Jokers. Ari and Ervin are with him too. What we should do first is look for them.” 

Everyone nodded at the instructions given to them. Even Jokers were compliant, especially since BND ranked higher than them.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

The two brotherhoods were about to split when Marcus lunged and grabbed the Rose by the neck, shocking everyone, especially the underling.

“Where is he? Did no one see him? How did you spot fake Ashes but not my brother?! You useless Rose!” Marcus roared, leaving the brotherhoods speechless. Even Khian, his closest, was visibly stunned.

Everyone knew Marcus for his bright and friendly personality. They knew how protective he was of Max as well. But now, with the way he was acting, this was no longer protectiveness. 

“Have you gone mad?!” Hans shouted as he and Master Joker began to pull the two apart.

“Marcus! Calm down! Let him go!” BND’s leader commanded, but Marcus didn’t listen while the Rose clawed for air.

“Marcus! Let him go, for fuck’s sake. We’ll find your brother. Just calm down for a second,” Master Joker added, yet Marcus still didn’t release him.

Hans swore under his breath. Brave and Arjun also got ready to intervene. But before they could approach them, Khian stepped forward and held onto Marcus’s shoulder. 

“He’s not going to disappear on you again,” Khian said amidst the chaos. “But if you keep acting like this, he will.”

At those words, Marcus slowly released the Rose. The student stumbled back, gasping, and Red and Leo rushed to steady him.

“I-I’m sorry,” Marcus muttered, staring at his hands in shock. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping properly for two weeks, and then add up all the stress he’d been going through after his parents’ engagement announcement. Marcus was definitely at his limits.

“Marcus, go home,” Hans ordered, and the hallway fell silent. “You’re not in your right mind. You had forgotten that you are a member of BND. Right now, you need to rest and cool your head.”

“My brother may be in danger, and you expect me to go home?” Marcus asked, looking wrecked enough to make even Hans pity him.

“You’re a duke, Marcus,” Arjun reminded him. “Dukes don’t grab Roses by the neck to strangle them for things they can’t even control.”

Marcus wanted to defend himself, but Krist stepped in. “We’re his protectors. Which means it’s not just you, but all of us. We’ll find him and bring him back safe. Besides, Max wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

The genuine concern on every face left Marcus with no choice. He clenched his fists and stared at the floor. “I apologize for my foolishness. It won’t happen again. I’ll go home as commanded.”

Hans studied him, then exhaled. “Good,” he said before looking back at his brother seriously. “But Marcus…grab our Roses like that again, and you may never be allowed to return to this House, even if you beg.”

…

“Felix, can you move and reach the rope on my wrists?” Ari asked as the four friends remained tied in the unknown room.

“I’m trying! This chair won’t budge!” Felix snapped.

“Why are you so weak, Campbell?” Ari argued.

“Do you want to die, Faulkner?!”

“For heaven’s sake, you two—I’ll do it,” Ervin said in irritation as he shimmied his chair closer to Felix.

When he got within reach, Felix looked over his shoulder and grabbed the rope tied around Ervin’s wrist. “How did that guy tie this? It won’t fucking budge!” Felix complained for the second time.

Before Ari could pick another fight, Max looked at his friends and told them, “W-will you three calm down? I bet Krist and the others are…o-on their way.”

“Max! Stop talking and think happy thoughts,” Ari said to him.

“I’m not dying, you idiot. Relax,” Max managed, and they all stopped moving.

Though Max had told them to calm down, it still didn’t change the fact that the damage CJ had inflicted was serious. During those moments, Max genuinely felt like the count was going to kill him. He had never felt anything like that with the other brotherhoods before. Even Viktor.

“I can’t believe we got played by Arthur Brooks. He really used us to get his revenge on CJ. What was he expecting us to do? Ask BND and Jokers to attack them?” Ari said while they waited for rescue.

Max, still on the floor with the chair tied to him, turned his head. “Wait. Say that again.”

“What? The revenge part?” Ari asked.

“N-no…the last part.”

“Jokers and BND attacking Cigarettes?” Ervin answered for Ari, and Max’s eyes widened as if a missing piece had finally clicked into place. 

“Ari, you’re seriously a genius.”

Ari, not knowing why he was suddenly praised, smiled proudly. “Well, thank you.”

Before Felix or Ervin could ask why Max said such a thing, the door suddenly burst open.

“Max!” A figure called out. 

The light from outside made them squint their eyes. Someone then flipped the switch, finally revealing Red and Khian.

“Oh my god, thank you!” Ari cheered, and Khian rushed to untie them while Red ran to Max’s side.

“What the hell happened to you?” Red asked, already working the knots at Max’s wrists and ankles.

“How did you find us?” Ervin asked as Khian freed him.

“One of our Roses reported four suspicious students impersonating the Ashes,” Khian said, still untangling Felix and Ari. “We did some digging and interrogated a few students until we found you.”

Ervin wanted to ask what he meant by “interrogated,” but decided best to just keep quiet about that part.

“I can’t believe you’re injured again. I’m taking you to the clinic,” Red said, helping Max to his feet.

Max thanked Red and told him, “Looks like you’re always there to help me in these situations. I am once again indebted to you, my duke.”

“You’re welcome. But as much as I’d like to talk about your growing debts, you should be more worried about your brother. He went mad earlier and started strangling the underling who reported this,” Red said, startling everyone, especially Max.

Ari, finally free, unconsciously touched his neck when he heard what Max’s brother did.

Max still couldn’t believe that Marcus would do such a thing, either, especially after the conversation they had. But at the same time, he somehow understood why things ended that way,

“We’ll talk about that later,” Khian cut in after successfully untying everyone. “For now, we need to take you all to the clinic to get checked. We’ll call the others once you get there.”

The others nodded, and the black uniforms helped Max and his friends out. As they walked towards the exit, the four glanced at each other before looking back at the room. They didn’t say anything, but they all knew…

They were walking out alive, yet crossing paths with J.S. High’s most notorious leader was nothing close to a victory.

…

“I should’ve killed that fucker when I had the chance,” Krist said, fists tight as he looked back at Max.

After treatment, Max was steady enough to recount what had happened. Thankfully, nothing was broken, so he could return to class tomorrow. He rested in the clinic with the two leaders, Krist and Hans, and their right hands. The rest of Jokers and BND had gone to the Great Hall for lunch.

“So what happened to them? Did they just leave?” Hans asked.

Felix, Ari, and Ervin looked at Max. They were ready to tell them that CJ arrived and almost got him killed, but Max answered first before they could even open their mouths. “The real Ashes came and took them. Like your underling, Cigarettes’ Lighters must have reported it, too.”

“As expected of them,” Hans said with a sigh of relief.

Brave scratched his chin. “I’m not going to lie, what that Arthur kid tried was smart. If I were him, I’d want revenge on CJ too, the way he is. Using us for it is just icing on the cake.”

“How terrible can CJ really be?” Felix asked, his innocent façade dropping for a while as he joined the conversation.

The two leaders exchanged a knowing look. 

Krist crossed his arms. “Like most of us, CJ was our classmate back then. When he wanted to form his own brotherhood, he asked me to join, but I declined, so out of his six members, only two are fourth-years, and no one knows where he found them. After that, he kept his distance.”

“So he’s mysterious?” Ervin asked.

“CJ is manipulative, sadistic, and selfish, but never mysterious,” Arjun said. “He’ll show you who he is without a second thought, because the truth doesn’t make him vulnerable.”

“Of course, my brotherhood is civil with them, which is why people think we’re still close,” Krist added. “Because, as much of an asshole as CJ is, he doesn’t do anything that won’t benefit him. Unlike Jokers, he doesn’t care for petty drama, so their brotherhood isn’t harmful…most of the time.”

“Except when you choose to be their homeboy,” Hans clarified.

“By making deals, right?” Max asked, looking to Hans to elaborate.

“That’s right. Their custom is called the Tobacco Deal.  Cigarettes make deals with a bunch of students. Those tempted are subjected to the rules of the deal. It’s one of the most dangerous customs because it benefits Cigarettes more than the white uniform.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Max asked.

Krist drew a breath, as if bracing to share something heavy. He then sat on the edge of the bed beside Brave. “Unlike Jokers’ jack-in-the-box custom, Cigarettes don’t do pranks. A year ago, a serf agreed to a deal. He was always bullied by a gaffer, so Cigarettes offered to scare the gaffer into stopping. The serf agreed. The next day, the gaffer had broken bones all over.”

Max and his friends stared. The look on Krist’s face said there was more.

“After that, the serf became Cigarettes’ homeboy. He wore a dog collar, a symbol for that temporary title. A few weeks later, he turned up with broken bones, too. He was paralyzed days after and eventually left J.S. High,” Krist finished.

Max exhaled, massaging his temple. He’d known bullying—he’d lived it before—but broken bones and paralysis were another level. Now he understood why BND and Jokers were wary when he said he’d conquer CJ next.

“There were rumors that President Janus paid a large sum to keep both families quiet. That’s why no one talks about it anymore,” Brave added further, making Max sigh and rub his temple.

“If their custom is that dangerous, why did the Brotherhood Association approve it? In my special classes on brotherhood origins, the Association has to evaluate customs first,” Max explained, since he couldn’t believe that something like that was still happening despite the serious incident.

“Actually, they almost didn’t approve it at all,” Hans revealed. But before Max could ask why, he continued, “It was only approved when CJ added another rule that secured approval.”

“And what rule is that exactly?” Max asked, bracing himself.

Hans stepped closer, watching Max’s reaction carefully as if to warn him of the dangers of what he was about to learn.

“Their cruel custom was ultimately approved because he added a rule that if the Cigarettes ever fail to fulfill their end of the deal…” Hans released a steady breath. “The counts themselves will take the place as your homeboys.”

|END|

69 | Like Ashes

♞

“YOUR GUARDIAN WILL BE here any minute. You should rest while you wait,” the doctor told Max before heading out of his room in the clinic.

Max took a deep breath and settled into the bed. Krist and the others wanted to stay with him since he had just returned and was already being treated at the clinic, but Max insisted he was fine and that they should all go back to class. He assured them they would see each other tomorrow.

Though he tried to keep a strong front, what had happened earlier terrified him. He couldn’t tell his protectors about what CJ had done, not because he feared they would storm Cigarettes’ base and start trouble, but because he feared the outcome if they did. He needed an effective plan before doing anything rash.

“Play with fire, and I’ll show you ashes,” Max murmured to himself, repeating CJ’s parting words.

He remembered the count’s menacing expression as he looked down on him, a face Max knew he would never forget. Viktor had worn that look at times, yet it had never frightened Max to that extent. CJ, on the other hand, had the expression of a man who feared nothing.

With Viktor, Max knew what to expect. He knows that Viktor acts the way he does because that’s his role. He’s a king. He’s supposed to be feared. But with CJ, it’s different. He acts the way he does simply because…he can.

“I don’t think I can fix something that’s trying to break itself,”  Max said, deciding to let the thought go and rest. He had just closed his eyes when the door opened. He was expecting Étienne but saw Gavriil instead.

Max sat up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m an Elite. We’re not required to attend classes,” Gavriil said casually as he approached.

Max unconsciously shifted away as Gavriil stopped at the side of the bed. Unlike at The Mask and at Viktor’s apartment, Gavriil was back in J.S. High’s pristine white uniform. With his golden armband, the Elites’ brooch, and his peaked cap set neatly, he looked every bit the proper vice president.

“Leave,” Max ordered.

“I’m not your butler, so get off your high horse, young master,” Gavriil shot back.

Max folded his arms and flopped onto his side like a stubborn child, turning his back on him.

Gavriil sighed and removed his cap. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m not here to confuse you. I came as the vice president and nothing more,” he said, but Max still didn’t turn.

“I’m here to inform you that we identified the four white uniforms who impersonated the Ashes.”

Max rolled back immediately. “Where are they?”

Gavriil pulled out his phone and showed a photo of four students lined up like mug shots.

“Smith, Vasquez, Hudson, and Williams,” he said. “We apprehended them as soon as we got the official report. They’re suspended. They say they followed Arthur because he was a gaffer, and he forced them to help with his plan.”

Max merely nodded. He had expected as much. “And what about Arthur?”

“Arthur will go to deliberation. Of course, he was sent to the hospital first after what happened to him.”

“Hospital? What do you mean, hospital?”

“Thirty minutes after we found the fake Ashes, Arthur turned up tied and unconscious in front of the Elites’ office. He was bruised all over and had a few fractures. We had to immediately send him to the hospital.”

Max’s eyes widened at the news. 

“How about Cigarettes? Have you caught Cigarettes?”

Gavriil drew a breath, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “According to the Elites, there’s no evidence tying Cigarettes to it. Unless Arthur confesses, we can’t do anything.”

“He’ll never confess,” Max said, shaking his head. “After what they did to him, he’ll never admit who did all that to him.”

“Good that you’re aware,” Gavriil simply said, putting his peaked cap back on and shoving his phone in his pocket. “Then that’s it. Rest well, Mr. Sinclaire.”

The vice president turned to go, but Max clenched the bedsheet. “You knew Cigarettes was dangerous, yet you told me to conquer them next. Why?”

Gavriil stopped and met his gaze. “Busters is far more dangerous than you think. If you can’t conquer the Counts, you might as well give up on the Kings.”

Max looked down at his hand, embarrassed. He knew the vice president was right.

Gavriil noticed the reaction and sighed, stepping closer. “I said I’d fully help after you secured two more brooches, but let me offer something you might want to consider,” he said, and Max looked back up.

“CJ makes the deals, not you. He rolls the dice. That’s why the Tobacco Deal always favors Cigarettes. They find someone with a wrecked life, make an irresistible offer, and then break them, just for the mere pleasure of it,” Gavriil explained.

“The problem is, he’ll never make a deal with you. Do you know why?” Gavriil asked.

Max blinked, remembering CJ’s own words.

“You’re not broken enough for me, Maxy, so what are you going to do about it?” the count had told him, but Max decided not to open it to Gavriil as he shook his head instead.

“He won’t offer you a deal because your life isn’t shitty enough for him,” Gavriil revealed, an answer Max had already expected to hear. 

“To CJ, you’re like everyone else trying to save J.S. High and play the hero. The only difference is that you have the power and the name to actually try. Now, the real question is…what will you do to make yourself interesting enough for a heartless man like him? How far will you go, how fucked up will you let yourself become, for him to take a chance and offer you a deal?”

“You’re not broken enough for me.”

Max released a hot breath,   gooseflesh rising. “He wants me to completely break?” 

“No,” Gavriil said quietly. “He wants you shattered. He wants you to be so broken you’d look like—”

“Ashes,” Max finished, finally understanding CJ’s last words.

“But I can’t just—” he was about to add something, but he moved too fast from the excitement, causing him to wince. The cut at the corner of his mouth stung.

Gavriil’s gaze dropped to Max’s lips and sighed. Blood had welled up again. Max wanted to wipe it with a finger, but Gavriil stopped him. “Don’t.” He said, walking to the steel workbench to wet a wad of cotton with saline.

He stood at the dweller’s side. “May I?”

Max held his eyes for a second, then nodded. Gavriil sat on the edge of the bed and dabbed on the wound gently, an act similar to what he already did back at Viktor’s apartment. When he leaned closer, Max caught the scent of his cologne. The familiarity made him swallow…hard.

“Thank you,” Max said suddenly.

Gavriil was taken aback and tried to suppress a smile.

“F-for the advice,” Max added quickly, as if clarifying he meant that, not the care.

Gavriil chuckled but spared him a comment. “You just got back, and you’re already hurt,” he said, almost sounding worried. Max stayed quiet as Gavriil continued to dab.

“You drowned yourself in alcohol and cigarettes for two weeks. Expect headaches. Take your medicine and rest when you get home,” Gavriil told him.

“I’m not planning to go home yet,” Max answered.

Gavriil paused for a second before going back to the wound. “Where will you stay then? Back to Viktor’s apartment?” he asked, almost like he was mocking Max for his constant irrationality.

Max fidgeted with the bed sheets and looked away. “No.”

Gavriil took a deep breath and put his hand down. “You can’t always run from your father. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Tried running from your father, or from mine? Honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if you meant the latter,” Max said dryly, making Gavriil laugh under his breath.

Max caught sight of the small smile on the vice’s face and immediately looked away again.

“If you really won’t go home, why not stay at my apartment?” Gavriil suggested, standing from the bed. “I only have one bed, so if you don’t mind sharing, it might work out for both of us.”

Max wasn’t sure if he was teasing him or flirting with him, but he shoved the thought aside and tried to ignore the question. “You live in an apartment?” he asked instead.

“I live alone in an apartment,” Gavriil corrected, tossing the cotton into the bin.

“Your parents allowed you to live alone?” Max persisted, almost making the vice smirk.

“Why? Curious?” Gavriil teased. “Careful. The more you ask, the more intrigued you’ll get. And trust me…getting intrigued by me is quite dangerous.”

Max gulped again. Thankfully, Gavriil said nothing else. He crossed to the side table and picked up Max’s cap. A shoe print stained the crown where CJ had stepped on it. The sight almost made him laugh.

“It would be wise if you wear your complete uniform before your guardian arrives,” he said, offering the cap.

Max grabbed it and remembered their first day, when he hadn’t worn it because of a tire mark. The memory of their encounter made him hide a smile. “I would be a fool if I wore it now. It has a shoemark on it.”

Gavriil smiled back, then lightly snatched it from his hand. He stepped closer and settled it neatly on Max’s head. Then, he brushed the hair from his forehead, his finger barely grazing his skin. The touch felt uncannily familiar. But as Max tried to understand why, Gavriil leaned in and whispered, “ Wear it.“

The two gazed into each other in silence. There was barely space left between them, but before anyone could make a move, someone knocked on the door, disrupting the moment.

Gavriil quickly pulled away, standing straight like the proper vice president that he was. Max turned and held onto his chest in a panic.

The door opened, and Max expected his butler, who he knew would be angry about his disappearance. But when the person who knocked revealed himself, Max instantly froze.

“Father?” he asked, eyes wide.

Gavriil, too, went still when he saw Denzel Sinclaire standing in the doorway.

Max assumed his father would ignore the vice president and come straight to him, but Denzel stepped toward Gavriil and studied him, as if searching his memory.

“Alexeev,” Denzel said at last.

“Y-you…you know him?” Max asked, but both men ignored the question.

Gavriil stood respectfully, but deep down, he was frightened. Not from Denzel’s presence, but from the knowledge he knew of him.

“You’ve grown,” Denzel said, still looking at him.

Gavriil kept silent as Denzel glanced at Max, then back. “You disappeared after what happened. You never showed yourself again, so I couldn’t thank you enough for—”

“I-it’s fine,” Gavriil cut in, stopping him. His hands trembled while his eyes stayed on the floor, not daring to meet Denzel’s. “It’s fine,” he repeated, almost in a whisper.

Denzel said nothing more. Gavriil held his breath and bowed deeply before rushing out of the room. As the door shut, Denzel sighed and came to Max, who was still confused about what had happened.

“How do you know him? What did you mean about thanking him?” Max asked. But as he expected, Denzel didn’t answer.

“You hid for two weeks, and now you show up beaten. I’d call it pathetic, but seeing you like this…it’s just depressing,” Denzel told him instead.

Max’s fists tightened in the sheets. “Why did you come here?”

“What kind of father would I be if I didn’t?” Denzel countered, which only angered Max even more.

“Don’t talk about fatherhood now, after everything you’ve done. You don’t care about me. You never did, so stop acting as if you do. It’s sickening,” Max said, his words venomous. “Leave now and never show your face again, do you understand me?”

“I knew where you were,” Denzel replied, ignoring everything his son just said. “It’s almost insulting that you underestimated my ability to find you. Two days after you ran, I already knew where you were and who you were with. If you stop acting like a child, I won’t interrogate you for it, and I won’t press charges against that boy for hiding a minor.”

Max’s mouth fell agape at what he heard.

“If you refuse, all I have to say is you were kidnapped. The news would eat it up before you could even step out of this room.”

“You’re crazy,” Max said as he felt his chest tighten in fury. “You’re always like this. You never changed. This is the reason why I’ve despised you for so long.”

Denzel drew a breath and slid his hands into his pockets. “I love Edith,” he said out of the blue. Max was startled. He never expected his father to say such a thing, especially now when they’re in the middle of an argument.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t care if you love her or only desire her. What I care about is—”

“It’s my turn to speak,” Denzel said, cutting him off. “I let you vent your anger last time. Now you will listen.”

Max, despite the growing anger, couldn’t argue. Denzel never demanded such a thing from him before. This was more shocking than the fact that he knew Gavriil.

“Max, you’re old enough. You should understand why I married your mother,” Denzel began, and Max swallowed hard, gripping the sheets as he prepared for what was next.

“Love was not a requirement in our marriage. Both of us knew that from the beginning,” he said, the truth piercing straight into Max.

“I admit that I didn’t love her enough as my wife, but I respected her as a woman. I knew that, and she knew it too. But I have given more than I have taken. We tried to make this family work. I know she tried harder than I did, but there are many things you don’t know. I couldn’t just—” Denzel paused, struggling to continue.

Max felt his eyes water, but he forced himself to hold them in. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pain he could see in his father’s eyes that held genuine regret for what he had done.

“I can let you and your mother damn me for your whole lives, but I have never spoken ill of her. I did not hate her for what she did to me because, as God as witness, I could have a long time ago,”  he went on, emotion now overflowing.

“I know I am your father, but I know more that you are her son. I never said anything because I knew how much you loved her. Even so, I will not apologize for not telling you of my plans to marry Edith. But I will apologize for this…” Denzel stepped back.

Max didn’t understand what he was planning to do until his father dropped to both knees and bowed low, a sight no one had ever seen before.

“I sincerely apologize, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. But I formally renounce your title as inheritor of Sinclaire Corporation,” Denzel had finally declared.

Silence swallowed the room. Max stared as the tear he held back slipped down his cheek. The memory of begging his father before at the Sinclaire Household surfaced as Max now watched Denzel do the same. And just as his father had done, Max decided to look away…

…and remain silent.

|END|

70 | Society Assembly

♞

THE SCHOOL BELL RANG,  and the students practically jumped out of their seats with pure excitement. Today was their activity period, which meant they didn’t have to attend regular classes. Instead, they were required to be with their clubs for the entire day.

“Max, are you ready?” Felix asked as he approached Max’s seat.

Max, who looked like he had been daydreaming, flinched when he felt Felix touch his shoulder.

“S-sorry…did I surprise you?” Felix asked, worried.

Max blinked back to reality, laughed it off, then stood and grabbed his bag. “No, I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Ari—sitting beside him—asked as Ervin appeared behind them.

Max looked at his friends’ concerned faces. It had been three days since his conversation with his father at the clinic. He hadn’t told anyone about what happened that day. It was a conversation between him and his father, a conversation that he hoped never happened.

After their exchange, neither of them spoke. Max hadn’t known how to react, so he stayed silent. When it was time to go home, he was stunned to find Denzel without a driver or bodyguard. Denzel actually drove Max himself.

Étienne had said nothing when Max returned, seeing how lost and confused he looked. Even Marcus had kept quiet. 

No one in the house spoke a single word.

Max felt numb, not because his father had apologized for the first time, but because it had felt more like begging than apologizing. It felt as if Denzel didn’t want to strip his inheritance, but simply couldn’t do otherwise. That alone worried him. Now he was second-guessing whether he should take the company back at all, or he should follow his father’s wishes instead.

“I’m fine. This time, they aren’t empty words,” Max said with a genuine smile.

Felix, Ari, and Ervin exchanged looks. They knew he was keeping something from them, but it was better to let it go for now.

“Well, I’m heading to the library. How about you guys?” Ari asked, changing the mood.

The friends walked out of their room as Ervin said, “Pool area for me. You two are going to the Hall of Janus, right? Let’s walk together since the pool’s beside that building.”

Felix nodded, and the three headed the opposite direction from Ari.

“Looks like I’m going home late again,” Ervin said as they walked. “We’ve got a tournament next month, and our coach is making us practice like mad. The senior students have already graduated, and most of our team members haven’t won a medal.”

“But aren’t you a swimming prodigy?” Felix asked.

“I wouldn’t say prodigy. My grandfather, my father, and two uncles are Olympic medalists. My dad alone won a medal twelve times. Growing up, I always wanted to be like them,” Ervin said with a shy smile, drawing smiles from Felix and Max. It was rare for Ervin to share something so personal.

“So your dad’s an Olympic medalist, and your mom’s a lawyer. And if I remember correctly, she also has a law firm, right?” Max asked.

“She does. They’re a corporate law firm. That’s her specialty.”

“W-wait, is she Attorney Eleanor? The one who cracked the Britannia Capital Bank scandal?” Felix asked, wide-eyed.

Ervin grinned proudly and nodded to confirm it. “Yup, that’s her. Attorney Eleanor Walker .”

“Holy shit,” Felix cursed, causing the two to laugh.

“Maybe I should hire her regarding my inheritance?” Max said it jokingly, but Ervin still took the chance. It didn’t even have to be a serious offer. Ervin was already giving Max his mom’s phone number just in case.

“Anyway, I’m glad you followed your father’s footsteps instead. I can’t imagine you being a lawyer with that temper,” Felix teased.

“What do you mean by that?”

Ervin locked an arm around Felix’s neck and ruffled his hair. Felix laughed and tried to push him off while Max watched, easing at the sight. He had to remind himself that he was at school. He was in a safe space. Family matters shouldn’t affect him here.

“Oh, looks like this is where we’ll part,” Ervin said, pulling away from Felix. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Enjoy your club,” he said, patting Max and Felix on the shoulder before taking off.

Left with Felix, Max glanced at his friend and noticed the black armband.

“Not to sound like an ass, but when are you planning to raise your rank? We’re already mid–first semester,” Max asked, reminding Felix that Sir Barron had warned them that anyone in Class II-A ranked below 320 by the end of the second semester would be kicked out.

Thanks to Mr. Brains & Brawn, Max sat at Rank 308, which meant he was safe. For now, at least.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Felix answered, touching his armband. “I’m waiting for the semestral exams.”

“Semestral exams?” Max asked, brows furrowed.

“That’s right. They’re regular exams, but the top three across our year get insane merit points,” Felix said. Ari had mentioned it, but not in detail.

“Is that so? The current top three are Alexeev, Ari, and you, right? But Ari said you fell asleep halfway through it, so I’m guessing you’re extremely smart. Smarter than Ari, too,” Max assumed.

Felix shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

“I may be clever, but I don’t think I’m as book-smart as you guys. I’ll aim for top ten, but I’m not pinning my hopes on it,” Max said, almost making Felix laugh because Max wasn’t even going to try. “But out of curiosity, how many points are we talking about here?”

Felix drew a breath. “So top eleven to twenty gets 250 points. Four to ten gets 500 points. Third place is 1000, second is 2000, and finally, the smartest student gets a whopping 3000 points. We have three semesters, so if you rank first three times, you’ll have 9000 merit points by the end of the year.”

Max was impressed. The numbers almost tempted him to study early—but deep down, he hoped Felix would place first. Felix barely had 1,500 points. With an extra 3,000, he’d leave the serf bracket behind and might even get a shot as a gaffer.

“Makes sense that they’d give huge points to top scorers. After all, J.S. High is still a school, despite all this chaos. I guess I’ll try to aim for the top ten,” Max said, draping an arm around Felix’s shoulders. “You, on the other hand, should reach for the top one. And I hope this time, you don’t fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry. Beating Ari and Alexeev will be as easy as stealing candy from a baby,” Felix said confidently.

“Unless the baby can kick you in the face, then you’re dead,” Max joked, and they laughed until they reached their clubroom, the same cramped space people called the janitor’s closet.

When they got there, they found all the members of the Omega Society waiting outside. Max was about to ask what was going on when Payton—their temporary club leader—appeared from the crowd.

“Look who we have here. It’s Mr. Brains & Brawn,” Payton said with a proud smile as he approached Max and Felix.

“What’s going on? Why are you all outside?” Felix asked.

“We were waiting for you two,” Payton said, gesturing to the other nine members. “We’re heading to the auditorium. Apparently, there’s a society assembly. They didn’t say what it’s about, but attendance is required.”

“Oh, how exciting,” Max said dryly, making Payton and Felix laugh.

“Well, let’s go,” Payton said, and the Omega members headed to the auditorium together.

When they arrived, the place was empty.

“Payton, are you sure this is real, or are we being pranked?” Max asked as they took seats near the front.

“Of course it isn’t a prank. See?” Payton defended, pulling out his phone to show an official email from the Elites. “It says here the assembly will start at 1:00 p.m. It’s already 12:50, so maybe the others are just late.”

Max didn’t say anything anymore as they sat. Omega Society had the fewest members of the three societies, but Max and Felix couldn’t help but smile as the rest of the members took their seats. There weren’t a lot, but for them, this was the most they’ve ever had.

“Payton, maybe this is the perfect time to ask for a new clubroom,” their freshmen representative, Eren Nabi, said.

Payton rubbed his chin and nodded. “I already sent an email, but they haven’t replied at all. Maybe I could follow it up later during the assembly.”

Max sighed upon hearing what Payton said. Even after recruiting members, they were still treated poorly.

“Maybe I should practice what to say,” Payton said, Felix helping him.

While their club leader was practicing his social skills, Omega Society waited at the auditorium for twenty more minutes, which annoyed and frustrated not only Max but the rest of the members as well. If the situation were the other way around, their society wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Okay, this is too much. When are they going to—”

Laughter drifted from outside. At last, Alpha and Beta Societies arrived, ten minutes late from the expected time.

“Great. They’re here. That’s just perfect,” Max said, rolling his eyes.

Omega Society waited for the others to sit so the assembly could start, but two white uniforms from Alpha and Beta appeared in front of them. They were their leaders, the same members who gave speeches during the Welcome Ball.

Max half expected an apology for being late. Instead, the Beta leader looked at Payton and said, “I’m sorry, but you can sit in the back now.”

“What?” Payton asked, stunned.

“Obviously, Alpha and Beta sit at the front. The Omegas are always at the back,” the Alpha leader said.

Payton was lost for words, and Max could see the others in their club looking embarrassed. Thankfully, the rest of the youngsters were fearless. Before their senior members could say anything, Eren got up from his seat.

“We were here first, so we have the right to sit where we want. You can’t simply ask us to move,” he bravely said.

Max, Felix, and Payton were surprised that Eren stood up for them, but the two society leaders were even more taken aback.

The Alpha leader’s expression turned sour, especially since the one who spoke back was a first-year. “Say that again, dweller. I dare you.” He threatened as he reached for Eren’s collar, but Max stood and pushed the hand away.

Thanks to BND, Max was faster and stronger. This was way too easy for him now.

“You were ten minutes late, yet you expect us to move for you?” Max said, voice steady. “We are all societies that serve the brotherhoods, so no one here is special. Don’t act tough and boss us around. If you want to sit at the front, stop barking and arrive earlier.”

One leader started to retort, but the crown brooch on Max’s collar made him think twice. Max wasn’t just a serf they could push around anymore.

“Why are you all just standing there?” a voice called from the stage. “I’ve been waiting for all of you to arrive, yet you continue to waste my time. You societies always like to act privileged just because you directly work with brotherhoods.

They all turned. The Elites’ treasurer, Dustin Griffiths, stood there with an annoyed expression. 

No one argued anymore. The Alpha Society sat up front on the right side, while the Betas were forced to sit behind them.

“Great. It’s him,” Max muttered, rolling his eyes again and sitting before Dustin could scold him, too.

Dustin walked to the center stage with a bored expression. He looked like he didn’t want to be there, but Ian specifically gave him the task, so he was forced to show up.

“Every year, President Janus assigns an Elites to handle club concerns, and unfortunately for everyone, that task was given to me last month,” Dustin said, though Payton and the others already knew.

“Now, despite your tardiness, I’m aware that I’m eating into your precious time, so I’ll be quick.” He flicked on his tablet and lifted his stylus. “Alpha Society, we received your request for additional funds. I forwarded it to President Ian and am awaiting approval.”

“Thank you,” the Alpha leader said, standing to bow.

“As for Beta Society, the Robotics Club sent a letter about collaborating with you. They have a few inventions they want you to sponsor for the brotherhoods,” Dustin said.

“I’ll talk to their senior adviser as soon as possible,” the Beta leader replied.

Dustin nodded, jotted a note, then looked to Omega’s leader. “And Omega Society…President Ian congratulates you on recruiting new members. Unfortunately, you’re still adviser-less, and there are no senior members in your club. With no available faculty to take the role, the president will send letters to capable seniors who might want to handle your society. If none step up, Omega may temporarily halt activities and be dissolved.”

The Omegas were left speechless. 

Felix started to rise, but Max caught his arm. As much as he disliked Dustin, it was clear he didn’t make the decision. Rules were rules. The club couldn’t operate without an adviser and a senior lead. At the moment, Omega had neither.

“So we can’t request a new room anymore?” Payton asked.

Dustin checked his tablet. “I sent your room request to the president, but there’s no response yet. I’ll follow up, but nothing’s certain, so don’t expect much.”

“Thank you,” Payton said, standing to bow.

Max rested his chin on his palm and studied Dustin in a new light. Apparently, he wasn’t truly an asshole. He was blunt and a terrible person to break the news, but at the end of the day, he’s just doing his job. Maybe that’s how he is.

“Any more concerns?” Dustin asked.

A few members raised questions. The Elites’ treasurer still looked like he didn’t want to be there, but he answered everyone clearly. Max’s opinion of him changed even more.

“That will be all. You may go,” Dustin said after the assembly, and everyone stood to bow as he exited.

The societies filed out, and the Omega Society headed back to their cramped clubroom.

“I’m really sorry it’s come to this,” Payton told the freshmen as they walked. “You might want to look for new clubs to transfer to. You’re first-years, so it’s okay.”

It wasn’t official yet, but Payton knew finding either an adviser or a senior leader would be difficult, maybe even impossible. Better to prepare them in case they really do get dissolved.

“Don’t worry, Payton. There’s nothing to apologize for. We’re proud to be Omegas, right?” Eren said to the other freshmen, who happily agreed.

Payton practically sobbed as he hugged Eren. “Our future’s bright with you youngsters,” he said, making Felix and Max laugh.

When they arrived at their room, everyone was smiling and laughing. The bad news didn’t ruin their mood. Dustin said they’ll try to look for a senior to take over, so they’ll be hopeful for the time being.

“I guess for now, all we can do is look for a possible task and—” Payton, who swung the door open, instantly stopped talking when he saw what was in front of him. 

The rest of the members were confused as they appeared behind the gaffer. As soon as they saw what it was, the smiles on their faces turned to genuine horror.

“W-What the…”

The white uniforms were stunned.

Because on the table in the middle of the room lay a body bag with a gruesome note on top that said…

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/004c7f643a25bb478670ace4eb11665b36b50ec4/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4b534d4d70474c426b616a3836413d3d2d313131323234303436382e313861383033326532333261363933663537353332303630393436332e706e67)               

|END|

71 | First Assignment

♞

THE MEMBERS OF THE Omega Society circled the body bag, their bodies stiff as stone. They stared at it in uncertainty, unsure if it was fake, considering how Omega Society had pulled a stunt like this during Brotherhood Week. If it was fake, someone was pulling a distasteful prank on them.

“Did someone receive a jack-in-the-box?” Max genuinely asked, wondering if this could have been a prank from his protectors. Just because he was a member of Omega Society didn’t mean Master Joker and the others would exclude the rest of his club.

“Did any of you piss them off again or…”

Everyone looked at one another. Some shrugged. Thankfully, no one had received the Jokers’ box.

“Max, can you check what it is?” Payton asked, practically hiding behind Felix.

Max took a deep breath and looked back at the bag. He didn’t even want to get close to it, but if someone really was pulling a prank, they were definitely targeting him. The body bag bit was his idea. He should be the one to handle whatever this was 

“Here I go,” Max said, stepping up. He inhaled, lifted his hand to unzip…but stopped when Payton suddenly remembered something.

“Wait!” he shouted.

Max flinched and shot him an annoyed look. “What now?”

“See the lockers on the side? You’re on locker eight. There’s equipment there that I bought when I got a hold of our club funds,” Payton said.

Max scratched the back of his head, walked to the lockers, and opened number eight. Inside were a black coverall, black latex gloves, and a black face shield and mask.

“You really prepared yourself, huh?” Max remarked. And before Payton could answer, Max pulled on the gloves, shut the locker, and returned to the table. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

For the second time, Max leaned in to unzip. But just as his fingers were about to touch the zipper, the bag moved, startling everyone.

Max’s eyes widened. He finally opened the bag in a hurry, and instantly covered his mouth in shock when he found what was inside.

Everyone else jolted back in shock.

It wasn’t a mere prank. There really was a person inside. Most of them couldn’t place the face, but Max knew him. He was one of the white uniforms who assisted Arthur Brooks. Vice President Alexeev showed him their pictures and names last time. If Max remembered right, the student in front of him was…

“Hudson,” he remembered. “T-that’s…that’s Hudson. One of the white uniforms who impersonated the Ashes,” Max said, leaving the others speechless.

The room went dead silent. No one spoke, not just because there was a body in front of them, but because the body was actually covered in bruises. He had been beaten badly enough to be unconscious.

“He’s still breathing. We should bring him to the—”

Payton’s phone rang, cutting off the freshman who had approached the unconscious dweller. 

The society’s leader glanced at the members before pulling out his phone. He turned it on, and his expression instantly unsettled everyone in the room.

“Each member of Omega Society just received 100 merit points as a deposit for our service. Another 200 will follow after the task is completed,” Payton announced, and disbelief rippled through the room, especially from Max.

“W-wait…this is an actual cleanup job? We’re really doing it?” Felix asked, worry in his eyes. This would be their first time doing something like this. Even though they’d pitched the exact scenario during Brotherhood Week, he still couldn’t believe it was happening.

The room erupted in chatter. Some were worried like Felix, while some got excited. After all, this was the exact reason why they had joined.

While everyone was wondering what they were supposed to do, Payton cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. He was their leader, and this was their first real assignment. With a serious look, he looked at his members and commanded, “Gear up. We only have today to do this, so let’s do it right. Now move!”

…

Two members inspected the body and recorded everything. They stripped him out of his uniform and logged every mark—bruises, burns, abrasions, everything.

“He has two bruises on the arm, three on the leg, and one on the neck,” a freshman reported.

Payton stood at the whiteboard, jotting notes, while Max, Felix, Eren, and another freshman worked at a separate table, drafting a plan for their unconscious subject.

“There are cigarette burns too. Three on his back, one on his nape,” another freshman said.

“These guys really did a number on him. They weren’t trying to kill him, but they made sure it would hurt,” Eren commented while Max concentrated beside him.

“‘These guys’? You mean Cigarettes?” Felix asked.

“Shush. We do not speak about the brotherhood we work for. That’s the purpose of our society,” Payton scolded, and Felix pressed his lips shut.

While the room buzzed, Max studied the map of J.S. High. They had an unconscious white uniform that they had to strategically “clean up.” Or in a more barbaric term, dispose. They couldn’t simply leave him anywhere.

That’s why, in order to successfully dispose of him, the Omega Society had to fabricate the story. They need to make something up so no one can associate the incident with the brotherhood that hired them.

“Alright, let’s do this first,” Max said, looking up at the Omegas. “This is a big school full of rebellious students. Find powerful, troublesome white uniforms who smoke behind the scenes and report back.”

“Wait…we’re going to blame them?” Eren asked.

“Omega Society isn’t for saints. If you can’t do this, you might as well leave,” Payton said flatly, and Eren fell quiet.

“Don’t worry. The justice system at J.S. High is straight-up whack,” Felix added. “Even if we fabricate things, the worst is suspension. Honestly, we’re probably even doing them a favor. They won’t have to attend class for a while once we sort this out.”

The freshmen looked at each other and finally agreed with their seniors’ point of view.

“Are the Omegas we sent to the CCTV room back?” Payton asked next.

A freshman raised his hand. “We’re here.”

“Good. What did you guys find?”

The omega approached with a notebook. “It was Cigarettes. Our subject,  James Hudson, is confirmed to be an associate of Arthur Brooks. At 6:45 a.m., Hudson headed to the Hall of Terra when a group of Lighters ambushed him and carried him to Cigarettes’ base.”

“Cigarettes’ base…where exactly?” Max asked, not only for the assignment but for his own plans to conquer them.

Payton moved to the map and pointed at the freshmen building.

“In the West Tower, there’s a basement no one dares visit. That’s Cigarettes’ base, also known as the Smoking Room. No outsider has seen it and lived to tell the tale,” Payton explained. Exaggerated or not, Max suspected a vein of truth, especially after witnessing the panic in Arthur’s eyes when it was mentioned.

After answering Max’s question, Paytoon walked back to the whiteboard and continued.

“Anything else?”

“Two lighters were seen carrying the body here. It was right after we went to the auditorium. Other than that, there’s nothing else to report,” the freshman finished.

“Did you delete the footage?”

“Yeah, I cut the footage and spliced it with a shot of the empty hallway. Looks smooth now,” he answered, and Payton thanked him for the hard work. It’s a miracle that the members they recruited were skilled.

With the intel shared, everyone returned to work. It was an amazing sight, considering how Omega Society was once seen as mere janitors in the past. Now, they’re basically a spy agency.

“All right, Omegas! Let’s finish before the bell. Chop-chop!”

[J.S. High, near the East Tower ]

Students began heading out of their clubrooms as the bell echoed across the campus. The hallway was filled with white uniforms, some even pushing others aside since they were all in a hurry to head home.

“I can’t fucking find my notebook,” a white uniform snarled. His armband was gold with the Roman numeral IV, while the two students with him wore blue. The trio was notorious, especially among serfs who’d suffered just because they wanted to have fun.

“Where’d you leave it?” one friend asked.

“I don’t fucking know.” He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out an expensive cigarette pack. “Forget it. I barely wrote on that shit anyway. It’s mostly random words and doodles.”

They cut behind the stadium, into an alley-like stretch near the Royals’ base. Students rarely came here because they were scared to cross paths with the kings and princes. That’s why it was perfect for kids like them. 

The gaffer shook out a cigarette and lighter, tossed his bag onto a patchwork of old butts, and then paused.

“What’s that?” he said, pointing down the way.

His friends squinted to get a better view, but none could picture the silhouette from afar. With no other choice, they approached the unknown together.

To their dismay, it was only a peaked cap.

“What the—who left this?” the gaffer said, picking it up. He stared at it for a while and glanced at his friends. 

“Did someone come here earlier?” he asked, but the two dwellers could only shrug.

The gaffer chuckled. “Some kid must have been hiding here and ended up dropping his cap. It’s definitely one of those disgusting serfs,” he said before turning it over. He wasn’t expecting to see anything, so when he saw the note tucked inside, he couldn’t help but be surprised.

“What’s this?”

He uncrumpled the paper.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/bfe0563c2e00b083da7fd21e3bfd6690a23acde8/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f694d70526464577064754f495f413d3d2d313131343738313135392e313861383535643134616263376130323530393933343334303931312e706e67)               

“…catch?” he read aloud, slowly looking up. The moment he tilted his head, a white uniform dropped from the roof, startling the three of them.

“What the fuck?!” 

Instinct took over, and the three of them caught the falling body just in time. Their hearts were pounding as they quickly dropped it to the ground like it was a disease they didn’t want to touch. 

“W-what the hell is that?” one dweller said, backing away.

“That’s a student, right? That’s a fucking student!”

“This is bad. We gotta get out of here,” the gaffer said in a panic. They were about to bolt when four school guards in black swept in and cut them off.

“There they are!” a guard shouted, pointing in their direction.

“S-shit…shit! Run!”

They tried to escape, but J.S. High’s guards were built for this. In seconds, the trio was pinned to the wall while another guard knelt over the unconscious boy so he could check on him.

“You three are heading to the Elites’ office,” the guard holding the gaffer said.

“W-why? We didn’t do anything!” he protested.

The kneeling guard pulled a paper from the victim’s pocket, unfolded it, and sighed. “Then why did you send this?” he asked, showing the supposed note.

The gaffer’s eyes blew wide. The page was covered with the words “ I’ll kill you “ scrawled over and over.

“H-how did you—That’s a page from my missing notebook,” he revealed, surprising his friends.

“You admit it, then?” the guard said, and the gaffer began to thrash around, realizing what was going on. “No! We’ve been framed! I swear! I have nothing to do with this!”

“Explain it to the vice president.”

The guards ignored the protests and dragged them away as medics arrived to take James Hudson to the hospital.

While other guards swept the area, two students watched from a distance. They wore the black coverall that the Omegas would soon be known for. And conveniently, it hid their faces.

“And there he goes,” the Omega said with relief before glancing at the boy beside him named Max.

Max drew a slow breath, watching the trio being dragged away. He was supposed to feel guilty for framing the innocent, but Max felt nothing. He wanted to convince himself that they deserved it after the number of bullying records they had with serfs, but the truth was, Max just didn’t have any emotion left in him.

“Looks like our work here is done,” Max muttered. Minutes later, Payton’s message confirmed it: the additional 200 points had been credited to each Omega for completing their first, nearly impossible assignment.

“I hope you enjoyed the show…Charles Justin Mills.”

|END|

72 | Like A Monster

♞

THE CLOCK CONTINUED TO tick inside a painfully quiet office at Sinclaire Corporation. Max stared at his laptop screen, trying to make the words mean something, but nothing processed in his head.

A lot had happened in the past couple of days, and the incident with James Hudson—more than anything else—now weighed on him. 

Never in a million years had Max thought he’d pull an actual body out of a body bag just to inspect every part of it. The experience had been bizarre, and something about it left his stomach sick, despite feeling nothing when he framed innocent white uniforms just to get the job done.

“This is all your fault,” Max whispered under his breath, remembering the leader of Cigarettes. He could clearly picture his smug face and the way he had beaten Max like it was nothing. Max was completely helpless on the ground while his friends watched and pleaded for him.

It was a dehumanizing experience.

He wanted to vent, but he forced himself to calm down before it got worse. He took a deep breath, brushed his hair back with his fingers, and looked at the screen again. Still nothing.

Everything in his personal and school life seemed to be taking its toll. He switched off the screen, and his reflection stared back at him.

He didn’t look good, which was ironic, considering he had just won a “pageant” a couple of weeks ago. Dark circles pooled under his eyes. He looked drained. Exhausted. Angry at the sight, he shut the laptop, revealing Étienne, who had been standing respectfully in front of the desk since the very beginning.

Silence filled the room as Max closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“You should rest,” Étienne suggested, making Max open his eyes back to look at his butler like he had lost his mind.

“Why, because I’m not going to be the chairman anyway?” Max snapped, and Étienne didn’t say anything anymore.

Ever since Max returned after being missing for almost two weeks, Étienne hadn’t pushed him. He knew how devastated Max was. Scolding him would only make things worse for him and his master.

Though he didn’t know Max’s secret plan to win CJ’s trust—a plan that felt more impossible each day—Étienne would have thrown everything away to help him. He wouldn’t have thought twice if he had known.

“Did you talk to your brother?” Étienne spoke again.

Without looking up, Max said, “Marcus doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

“That’s because you’re avoiding him,” Étienne said. “And your avoidance has made him stubborn and weak. Haven’t you been aware of that?”

Max looked at him again, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

When Étienne realized his master was not going to answer, he continued, “Your father is forcing him to learn the business, and his mother is demanding a lot from him, yet he remains silent. What did you tell him?”

“I challenged him,” Max said at once, surprising Étienne.

“Why would you do that? You know Marcus has no desire to involve himself in the company. You love the company because of your mother, and that’s exactly why he hates it. It’s almost like you threw him into a pit of fire with his hands tied behind his back.” 

Max clenched his fist at how Étienne concluded it. “Mention this again, and I’ll throw you in a pit of fire myself.”

Étienne sighed and was forced to change the subject. 

“You know why you’re here, right?”

“I was asked to finish all the projects I handled, so I can transfer responsibilities to the senior managers. That old man really wants me gone as soon as possible,” Max said with a chuckle, and the room went quiet again.

“We’ll eventually have to leave,” Étienne dared to say as he stared into his master’s eyes, which looked almost empty. But as the silence began to slowly consume them both, Max suddenly screamed and swept the items off his desk. Everything came crashing to the floor in an instant.

The outburst shocked Étienne and even Max himself. And before Max could process what he had done, he was already on his feet, his chest rising and falling as he stared at the empty desk.

“Is everything all right, sir?” a voice called from outside. Probably an employee who heard the noise.

Étienne glanced at Max, expecting him to answer. But Max was still in a state of shock. Étienne had to answer for him instead.

“Everything’s fine. You may leave.”

When Étienne heard the footsteps retreat, he took a breath and walked to Max’s desk. He bent over to gather the scattered items on the floor to place them back to its proper places. 

After putting the last item down, he turned back to his master, his eyes softer. “Leigh…it’s okay to cry. Nothing is stopping you from letting out the pain.”

The suggestion angered Max even more. “Cry? Don’t be stupid. I have no tears left. Nothing has been taken away from me yet, so don’t give me that pitiful look. I am still the most powerful heir in the world, and nothing will change that.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“You don’t have the right to fucking judge me,” Max lashed out, voice and hands shaking. “You don’t know what it’s like to be called the most powerful heir in the world and still be stepped on like you’re nothing. You don’t know what it’s like to be damned by your own family, to have a gun pointed at you when you were six, to see your face in the news and be hated by millions who know nothing about you, and to throw away your childhood because responsibility was forced on you so young. You don’t know what it’s like to endure all that and still get nothing in return. So don’t lecture me.”

“I can help you,” Étienne said, almost pleading.

Max doubted it, but he stepped close, grabbed his butler’s collar, and moved in until only inches separated them. “You want to help? Then kill that bitch so we can cancel that engagement. Can you do that for me?”

He was bluffing. He expected Étienne to back off. But Étienne didn’t falter. He met Max’s eyes and seriously answered him, “Okay.”

“What?” Max asked, eyes wide in shock.

“I’ll do it. How do you want me to do it?”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Max shoved him back, returned to his desk, and yanked at his necktie to loosen the knot that seemed to be strangling him.

“Just leave,” he said as he got back to his chair.

Étienne didn’t move, so Max slammed his palm on the desk and shouted, “Leave!”

Étienne hesitated for a moment, but he forced a bow and walked out of the room, leaving Max completely alone in his office.

Without saying anything, Max looked at his nameplate. Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire. He took the nameplate and stared at the word “Sinclaire” for a minute longer before throwing it across the room, breaking it.

His hands trembled. Tears formed in his eyes, but he fought them back. His emotions, once numb, were now overflowing. Everything that had happened to him so far came crashing down on him. 

His family.

The inheritance.

The media.

The public.

Charles Justin Mills.

That fucking body bag.

Max could no longer hold it in. He finally understood something he should have kept buried.

He was slowly turning into his mother, Luna.

He finally understood why she had gone mad.

“I’m not like her,” he whispered, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. He forced himself to focus on the distant office noise, to focus on anything else. He imagined a motionless depth before him. He almost calmed down…when his phone vibrated, shattering the peace.

He angrily pulled it out of his pocket, only to be welcomed by an unknown number. He opened the message carelessly, not expecting much from it. But as soon as he saw what it was about, a drop of water fell on Max’s already overflowing dam of insanity.

Everything else came crashing down after that.

…

Kim Hee-joon stood in his company elevator, expression blank despite the pain running through his body. His hands were bruised from a full day of archery training yesterday, and the people in the elevator stared in horror.

Hee-joon came from an exceptional family with a rich history. He’s also the third of four siblings. The eldest, as per tradition, is the heir to their company. Not that it mattered to him since the chairmanship held no interest. But despite it, he understood the weight of an inheritance, especially for heirs as powerful as Viktor.

“Is there a problem?” Joon asked the employees who were moving away. His cold eyes cut through them, and they instantly looked down.

The elevator door slid open, and Joon walked out. As he crossed to the parking lot, his phone rang. Joon checked the caller and sighed.

“Ren, what is it?” he answered.

“Sorry to bug you this early, but remember the task you gave me last time? When you and Viktor fought? Remember?” Ren asked with a playful tone, making Joon roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Yes. What did you find?” Joon asked, reaching his infamous yellow McLaren.

“It took a while since I had to pull a couple of strings. I know I did this for you, but hopefully you don’t tell on me because I could literally get killed for this. I’m serious,” Ren said, eating up Joon’s time.

“Just tell me. I’m busy,” Joon said, dropping into the driver’s seat and slamming the door.

Ren took a breath and finally revealed the information he risked his life for. “Denzel Sinclaire is marrying Marcus’s biological mother.”

Joon almost dropped his phone. The news was so shocking that he couldn’t speak.

“Hey, Prince Kim Hee-joon. Did you hear me? I just said—”

“Are you sure?” Joon cut in, trying to process it.

“That’s what I heard, but the family’s keeping quiet since the fiancée was a mistress, and the Sinclaires are trying to talk Denzel out of it. It’s going to be the scandal of the year, and they know it,” Ren said. Joon would have doubted anyone else, but Ren was one of his most reliable informants.

“This is bad,” Joon said, gripping the wheel. “Does anybody else know?”

“Technically, no, but there’s something more problematic than that one. It got released right before I called you,” Ren said.

Hee-Joon rubbed his temple. “Send it.”

A link popped up on Joon’s screen. He tapped it, bracing himself. But when he saw what it was, his eyes flew wide in disbelief.

“W-what…who…” He stared at the news article in terror.

“The article’s thin on details,” Ren said. “But an insider says Denzel renounced all of Max’s rights to the company. No reason stated. It’ll be the business story of the year. Max might as well leave the country and hide.”

Joon stared at the article until a shiver ran down his spine. This was bigger than anyone realized. 

“He’s not going to hide.”

“What do you mean?”

Joon drew a deep breath and turned the car on. The engine roared through the quiet lot. “I’m going to talk to Viktor. A monster is about to arrive at J.S. High, and only a king will know how to stop him.”

|END|

73 | We’ll Protect You

♞

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/5390c1e8af30cc77379094030e5dcd53c613ec8c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f743843657635786c504a572d62413d3d2d313131353536373134382e313861383931643961393166336565613131363534353734313434392e706e67)               

ÉTIENNE LOOKED BACK AT the rearview mirror to check on Max, who had not said a single word since they left the mansion.

The news article published yesterday had become the talk of the town, just as Ren predicted. Max’s face was all over the news, and even though the Sinclaires managed to delete the original article, the topic itself had already turned into a buzz.

Dozens of reporters waited outside the company and even outside the mansion, hoping to get an official statement from the family. The Sinclaires’ counselor had suggested they let the news die down rather than address it, but the family’s silence only made things worse.

“Your father insisted that you stay at home for now,” Étienne said, glancing back at Max’s blank expression.

Étienne took a breath and tried again. “Leigh, you don’t have to—”

“If you keep talking, I’m going to fire you and hire someone who actually knows how to keep his mouth shut,” Max warned, and Étienne finally kept quiet.

The drive to J.S. High was painfully silent, but as soon as they arrived, dozens of reporters swarmed them. When they saw the Sinclaire logo on the car, they closed in at once.

“These berks never get tired, do they?” Étienne said as he inched toward the school gate.

Camera flashes practically blinded him, but Max didn’t even flinch. He didn’t raise a hand to cover himself as lenses pressed against the windows, each reporter hoping for a shot to sell.

At the gate, about ten guards pushed the reporters back so the car could enter.

Étienne parked at the Keep to drop his master off. He was about to step out and open the door, but Max didn’t wait; he got out on his own, slammed the door, adjusted his peaked cap, and went up the steps toward the main building.

Students stopped and whispered. Some even laughed.

“He still went to school?” one student said in disbelief.

Max walked on as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Inside, a thick crowd watched him. Some minded their business, but most of them dared to stare. They kept whispering and laughing. One even threw a crumpled paper at him as a joke.

“Look at him walking with his chin up when he’s not even an heir anymore.”

“Go home, peasant!”

The insults continued, and Max stopped in the middle of the crowd. Everyone looked at him like he was an animal caged in a zoo. Max held himself back and clung to the strap of his bag, not even saying anything to defend himself.

He tried to keep it together…until one sentence snapped the thread.

“Now he’s just like his mother,” a student said, loud and brave. He was expecting others to laugh with him, but the moment he said it, the hallway fell into complete silence.

They all knew what had happened to Ervin on the first day. Even a prince like Kim Hee-joon hadn’t stood a chance when he mentioned her.

Everyone stared at Max as he dropped his bag on the floor. They expected an outburst, and Max delivered. Despite the silence, he shouted, “Shut up!”

The closest white uniform flinched as his voice echoed. Everyone else stepped back when Max moved toward them. His eyes were empty, yet full of everything.

“Shut up! Stop looking at me!”

The students who had been bold minutes ago now watched with fear. Not fear of Max, but fear of what he had become, and where that anger might lead.

Max looked around. Their eyes were fixed on him. No one dared say a word, but Max felt as if they were all talking at the same time. The silence was beginning to drown him.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut—”

“Before he could speak again, Max was cut off as a student rushed forward and grabbed him. Pulling Max close, he wrapped his arms around the trembling boy, pressing his face against his chest to shield him from the others’ gaze.

“Calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay,” the student said. Max looked up and found Vice President Gavriil holding him tight.

The students remained frozen. Gavriil looked back at them with a terrifying expression and shouted, “Head back to your rooms before I suspend all of you!”

They scattered like a bomb had been set. When the last of them fled, Gavriil looked at Max, who still trembled all over.

Max tried to push him away, but Gavriil didn’t let go.

“Take my hand and don’t let go…” Gavriil whispered in his ear.

Without hesitation, not even knowing why, Max whispered back, weakly, “And I’ll walk with you forever.”

Gavriil tightened his hold as soon as he heard Max reply to him. 

“How stubborn can you be?” he murmured, then let go only long enough to pick up Max’s bag. Max looked almost absent, and he didn’t protest when Gavriil bent and lifted him onto his back. “I’ll bring you to the clinic. The doctor can give you something to help you calm down.”

As Gavriil carried him down the hall, Max’s body continued to tremble. Tears shone in his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall.

“I know I don’t have the right to say this,” Gavriil said while walking. “But your mother was a powerful woman who loved you very much. She might have been the monster everyone claimed, but she became one to protect you. She wanted nothing else but to keep you safe.”

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better,” Max said, voice weak and helpless.

“Not really,” Gavriil answered. “I’m saying it because she told me those exact words when I first met her.”

Max went still at that. He could hardly believe Gavriil knew both his father and his mother, but instead of questions, he slipped his arms tighter around the vice and rested his head on his shoulder.

Gavriil knew it wasn’t gratitude or sweetness. Max was exhausted, and he needed a shoulder, figuratively and literally.

“If you’re going to turn into a monster,” Gavriil added, “make sure it’s to protect something you love. If you’re only doing it because your emotions are running you, then you’re not a monster—you’re a fool. And this castle doesn’t need another fool.”

…

Ervin ran into the classroom, his chest rising and falling after running down the hall. When he spotted Felix, he rushed to his side and grabbed his shoulder. “Where’s Max? Did he come to school today?”

Felix, startled, steadied himself and asnwered, “No. I don’t know. I was wondering the same thing.”

“Well, I hope he didn’t, because we have a problem,” Ervin revealed.

“What problem?”

Ervin removed his hand from Felix and told him, “Jokers is going to pull Cigarettes’ banner and declare war against them.”

“What?” Felix blurted in shock. But before he could process it, Ari burst into the room, panting heavily as well.

“Guys! We have a problem!”

“We know,” Felix immediately informed him. “Jokers will pull Cigarettes’ banner. Ervin just told me.”

Ari stared. “T-that can’t be,” he said, his face showing worry. “BND is going to pull Cigarettes’ banner too.”

Before either could respond, sirens blared across campus, the signal that a brotherhood battle was about to take place at the stadium.

“This is bad. Who pulled the banner first?” Ervin asked.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

The sirens continued to wail, alarming students who were heading to their classrooms. No one expected a battle this early in the morning, but everyone was already running to the stadium before they could question it.

Ervin, Felix, and Ari reached their class’s usual seats in the bleachers. White uniforms poured in until a sea of white covered the arena.

Everyone chattered, placing bets on who had challenged whom. Ari and his friends had only two real options—BND or Jokers—and they honestly hoped it would be neither.

The Elites arrived to loud cheers. President Ian smiled and waved, as did Justin, who was practically hopping to his seat in excitement. Dustin looked like he didn’t want to be there, and Richard Young walked with perfect elegance. 

The vice president wasn’t with them, but Ari, Felix, and Ervin didn’t mind. Unfortunately, they had no clue that he was actually with Max at the clinic.

The Elites stood below the stage where six massive Brotherhood banners hung. The banner that fell first would reveal the challenger, while the second banner would reveal the challenged.

“Why is it taking so long?” Ari muttered, bouncing his leg.

As everyone waited, brotherhoods began to file in. Jokers entered first, but instead of their usual playful entrance, they all looked serious.

Cigarettes followed behind them, but they showed the exact opposite demeanor.

Crazy 8 made their entrance next, and then BND, who didn’t even wave to the crowd as they would usually do. They simply went straight to their spot with the other brotherhoods, wearing the same expression as the jesters.

After the black uniforms settled, trumpets echoed. “Please rise and give respect to the Royals,” a voice announced.

Everyone stood, even the brotherhoods on the left side of the stadium. Dangerous Five entered first with stone-cold faces, followed by the Pretty Duo, who greeted the crowd with celebrity smiles. Behind them came the Hot Wingmen and their leader, Kim Hee-joon.

Busters followed soon after, but to everyone’s surprise, they arrived without their leader, Viktor. His absence shocked the stands, especially Ari, Ervin, and Felix.

“What’s going on? Where’s Viktor?” Felix asked, watching Hee-joon ascend to the stage and take the throne. Instead of an empty king’s seat, Tanis Hendrix , who held the title of the Serpent, strode up and sat beside the prince, while the rest of Busters joined PHD.

Tanis’s cold expression matched Hee-joon’s so well that they looked like twin dictators.

One thing that everyone had to know was that the king’s seat could never be empty. If the leader was absent, the next highest-ranking member took his place. Busters were kings in their own right. They didn’t need Viktor to keep the title. He just never left that seat…until now.

“The battle is about to begin,” the announcer said.

The two large LED screens flared on, showing the banners that would reveal the challenged and the challenger. “In today’s brotherhood battle,” the voice continued, “the first banner that falls will be the banner of the challenged.”

Everyone in the stadium wasn’t expecting the sudden change of rules, but that didn’t stop them from being excited. White uniforms began to stomp their feet regardless, waiting for a banner to fall so they could know who was challenged.

After a second, it was finally revealed.

Cigarettes.

The stands erupted. The Lighters jumped up and down while the counts stood and pointed at the other brotherhoods to let them know that they were ready for them.

“Now, for the challenger…”

The stomping resumed. Ari and Ervin watched the screen, bracing for their own banners and praying they wouldn’t see them fall.

The next reveal didn’t take long. Cheers should have exploded when the banner fell, but silence swept the stadium instead. Even Cigarettes stared in shock.

Because it wasn’t just one banner.

It was two.

“The brotherhoods who challenged the counts are…Boys Next Door and Jokers!”

 |END|

74 | Duties

♞

“WE HIGHLY SUGGEST THAT you head home for the day. I can recommend a psychologist if you are willing to talk to someone,” the school’s psychiatrist told Max right after he drank the medicine she had given him.

Max finished his glass of water before gently placing it on the side table. Thanks to Gavriil, he had calmed down after what happened to him earlier. The psychiatrist explained that Max must have experienced an episode brought on by the emotional stress he had been enduring for the past weeks, and that talking to a psychologist could greatly help him.

“Thank you, doctor. I’ll definitely consider it,” Max answered. “But I’m fine. I think it would be best if I busy myself here rather than head home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Max firmly replied.

“Alright, but if something happens again, I’ll have to forcefully call your guardian to take you home. Is that a deal?” the doctor asked, and Max nodded in agreement.

“Rest for now. You can head out as soon as you feel better,” the doctor said, leaving the room.

Max took a deep breath, laying down while massaging his temple. He couldn’t believe he had just lost his composure in front of everyone at the Keep. He hadn’t expected such an outburst either, so it shocked him more than anyone who had witnessed it.

“I really am like my mother now,” Max whispered to himself. But then he remembered Gavriil’s words from earlier when he carried him all the way to the clinic. Gavriil said that he shouldn’t be afraid to turn into a monster for the right reasons. It wasn’t a life changing advice, but it had helped him in a way. 

But what unsettled him more was the fact that Gavriil had met his mother before, and he didn’t even know where or how.

Max was still wondering about it when someone suddenly knocked on the door. Before he could answer, the door swung open, revealing the very man Max had been thinking of just a second ago.

“Hey,” Gavriil said casually, closing the door behind him. “It seems like the clinic is slowly turning into our secret meeting place,” he joked, but Max ignored him, turning his body to the side like a stubborn kid.

Gavriil sighed and stepped closer. “Are you heading home now? Did the doctor call for your butler?” he asked.

“No,” Max finally replied.

“I expected as much,” Gavriil said as he made his way to the door, standing in front of it as if to guard it.

Max frowned, sitting up to face him directly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Preventing you from leaving,” Gavriil answered.

“Leaving? Why on earth would I even—” Before Max could finish, sirens suddenly echoed throughout the campus, making his eyes widen in shock.

“What’s going on?” Max demanded. Gavriil removed his peaked cap, brushed his hair back with his fingers, and looked at Max with a serious expression.

“I know that you have your own duties to fulfill, just as your protectors. But I have my own duty too, and that’s to make sure you don’t leave this room so the Dukes and the Barons can fulfill theirs,” Gavriil answered, surprising Max even more.

“Jokers and BND pulled their banners? But why? I never told them to…” Max froze mid-sentence, realization striking. “No…they pulled Cigarettes’ banner because of the article, didn’t they? They’re doing it for me. They think CJ had something to do with it.”

Just as Gavriil predicted, Max immediately stood to leave the room to stop his protectors.

“They’re making a huge mistake. There’s no way CJ would publish that article. He has no reason to,” Max said as he walked toward the door Gavriil was guarding. “Move. I have to do something.”

“No,” Gavriil said firmly, making Max glare at him in annoyance.

Max knew Gavriil wouldn’t move, so he shoved him aside and reached for the doorknob. But Gavriil was faster. He grabbed Max’s arm, spun him around, and shoved him back by the shoulders, nearly making him stumble onto the bed. Max hadn’t expected the vice president to be that skilled.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Max snapped, immediately turning back to face him.

“I think I’ve been too lenient with you,” Gavriil said, his aura shifting into something no one had ever seen from him before. “You might not remember, but you were very troublesome when we were kids, and I had to go through a lot of shit because of it.”

“W-What?” Max stammered in shock.

“I have direct orders from the King. You will not leave this room until the battle is over,” Gavriil said seriously.

“Direct orders from the King? What the hell is going on?! Do you even know what will happen if I don’t do anything? BND and Jokers are making a huge mistake, CJ didn’t—”

“They know.”

Max froze at Gavriil’s words. He stared at him with confusion and asked, “What do you mean they know?”

…

“The brotherhoods who challenged the Counts are…Boys Next Door and Jokers!” the announcer declared, and the entire stadium fell silent.

“W-Wait…is that even allowed?” Ari asked, looking at the brotherhoods for their reactions.

Apparently, the other brotherhoods were unsure too. But before they could proceed, the Alpha Society made their way to the middle of the stadium with their club adviser, Ms. Alisa Armstrong. They held a quick discussion, and after a minute, a white uniform ran over to hand Alisa a microphone.

“Good morning, J.S. High,” she greeted. “After careful deliberation, Alpha Society has granted the two brotherhoods permission to battle against the Counts.”

The crowd erupted as soon as the decision was made, especially the Lighters, who shouted about how unfair the battle would be for Cigarettes.

“Of course, there will be conditions,” Alisa added, quieting the noise as BND, Jokers, and Cigarettes listened closely.

“Since this situation puts the Counts at a disadvantage, the Counts will choose their battle ground,” Alisa explained, and the members of Cigarettes cheered at once.

“And even though there are two challengers, you will act as one team. That means BND and Jokers will share one flag. As for participants, the Dukes may only send three members, and the Barons may send four. That is all. The three brotherhoods may now proceed to the armory,” Alisa finished, sending the crowd into cheers again as BND, Jokers, and Cigarettes left the stadium to prepare their weapons and gear.

Alisa also left, heading to the highest section of the stadium to commentate. Meanwhile, Alpha Society cleared the middle to prepare the battle ground.

Their leader touched the earpiece he was wearing and nodded, signaling that Cigarettes had made their choice.

“Beta Society has inspected the grounds,” he announced, and the Alphas quickly retreated.

The floor opened, and another platform rose to the surface. The crowd roared as today’s battle ground revealed itself. It was Cigarettes’ tilted platform, better known as the Seesaw .

“The Elites will now collect your bets,” the announcer called, and the LED screens displayed Cigarettes’ name, while BND and Jokers’ logo appeared together. “As the rules for this battle are different, point values will also differ. Please check the screen for reference.”

The second screen showed the payouts: 200 MP for BND and Jokers’ victory, 300 MP for Cigarettes’.

Elites began moving through the stands with their tablets to collect the bets.

At first glance, it looked like BND and Jokers should have the advantage. But they lacked the chemistry that Cigarettes possessed. On top of that, the battle ground favored Cigarettes. While BND and Jokers had strategies for facing Cigarettes separately, forcing them to fight as one team could cause serious problems.

“Who are you guys betting on? For some reason, I wanna bet on Cigarettes,” Felix said, almost earning a smack from Ari.

“Are you serious? You’re going to betray our friends like that?” Ari shot back, and Felix only shrugged.

Before they could argue further, the Elites’ secretary, Richard Young, approached with a polite bow. “Your bets, gentlemen,” Richard said, showing Ervin the tablet first.

While Ervin placed his bet, Ari leaned toward Richard and casually asked him, “Hey, did you know about this? Does it have to do with that article about Max?”

“I don’t know either,” Richard answered honestly, making Ari sigh, though he had expected as much.

“But I do think it’s more than that,” Richard added while Felix placed his bet.

“What do you mean?” Ari pressed, but Richard didn’t elaborate anymore. He showed him the tablet instead to signal that it was his turn to place his bets.

Ari sighed, no longer forcing Richard to explain further. “Always gatekeeping shit,” Ari complained, pressing Jokers and BND’s logo and betting ten thousand dollars for him.

“Good morning, House of Kings! Once again, I am Alisa Armstrong, your brotherhood battle commentator,” Alisa announced, drawing another cheer.

“As we continue with the bets, let’s review the mechanics,” she said as the screens displayed banned weapons on one side and forbidden target areas on the other.

“The rules are simple. The first brotherhood to place their flag on the enemy base within twelve minutes wins. If no flag is planted when the time runs out, the match will be declared a draw. Good luck, and may the best brotherhood win.”

Excitement buzzed through Cigarettes underlings—the Lighters—as they huddled together to discuss their own strategies. Everyone was fired up because today’s battle was considered a Battle Reranking . 

Since Jokers challenged a higher-ranked brotherhood, they have a chance to rank up and become counts as long as they win, while Cigarettes would be demoted to barons. BND, however, would stay unchanged since Cigarettes is ranked lower than them.

If Cigarettes won, ranks would remain the same, but it would mean they only needed one more consecutive win over BND to swap positions, since BND was Rank 3 and Cigarettes Rank 5. If they lost, they’d need to beat BND twice again.

This battle mattered more to Cigarettes than anyone.

“Look at that ground. Cigarettes are really in it to win,” Felix said, eyeing the Seesaw, a platform made of polycarbonate-like sheeting. Like a giant playground toy, its tilt would depend on weight distribution. The battle would definitely make the brotherhoods, and the audience, dizzy.

“Bets are now closed,” Alisa announced. 

The screen revealed the winner of the ten-second advantage. As expected, it was BND and Jokers.

“Looks like everyone is ready! To start our battle, let us welcome the challengers: Rank 3, the Dukes, Boys Next Door!”

The crowd erupted as BND’s three chosen fighters emerged. To no one’s surprise, the members who stepped out were Marcus, Arjun, and their leader, Hans. All three wore unusually serious expressions, a striking change from their usual charm. Marcus, especially, looked more furious than focused.

“Now, for the second challenger joining BND. Let’s give it up for Rank 6, the pranksters, the jesters…the Jokers!” Alisa introduced.

Four representatives emerged. They were Master Joker himself, his right-hand, Brave, and their third-years, Toni and Dhanin.

The crowd cheered wildly as the two brotherhoods merged into one team. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Brotherhoods never fought together before. Today, another history was being written.

“Now, let us welcome the challenged: Rank 5, the fearsome Counts…Cigarettes!”

The noise grew even louder as Cigarettes stormed in from the armory. The counts were surprisingly crowd favorites. They were popular, even with their reputation.

“Let’s go, Team Protectors!” Brave suddenly shouted over the cheers, earning odd looks from Hans and the others.

“What? You guys have better suggestions?” Brave shot back, and no one answered as they headed towards their base.

As soon as they got to their place, the platform lifted higher into the air. The crowd roared as it swayed slightly. Falling off meant automatic elimination. If a leader fell, their whole team would lose instantly before they could even pull the trigger. That’s why “Team Protectors” had to be strategic. After all, they had two.

“Holy shit this is higher than I thought,” Dhanin said with a nervous gulp, turning back slightly to catch a glimpse of the students below them. 

The battle ground locked in place, the loud click sound almost making the members’ heart race. The stopper was then removed, letting the Seesaw Battle Grounds sway freely. One wrong move and the entire thing could tilt.

While everyone was getting ready, a Beta Society member approached the throne with a case. Inside lay an ivory-gold gun. Standing with a bored expression, King Tanis Hendrix rose, took the gun, and aimed it at the air.

“Now the battle will begin in five…four…three…two…”

The blank fired, and BND and Jokers—now dubbed Team Protectors—moved first while Cigarettes stood their ground. For the ten-second advantage, Hans revealed his rollerblades. As the countdown ticked on the screen, Krist grinned and said, “Those who cannot stand the thorns…”

“Do not deserve to pick the roses,” Hans finished.

As soon as Hans answered Krist, the Master Joker pushed the duke as hard as he could, letting Hans slide towards Cigarettes base, instantly making the grounds tilt.

CJ watched the timer before looking back at Hans who was heading towards them in full speed. It would be such a shame if the duke reached their base before the battle even began.

“Come on now…” CJ muttered.

Just as Hans reached their territory, the ten seconds ended. 

The Counts moved immediately to stop BND’s leader. But instead of intercepting him, the other members yanked out the hoses connected to the bags strapped to their backs.

The bags, as one might expect, were filled with slime.

The moment the hoses were pulled, the liquid spilled across the ground, turning the surface slippery. If Hans couldn’t stop himself on time, he would zoom past their base and fall off the seesaw, which would automatically cost them the victory.

Thankfully, Hans came prepared. He slowly got down on his knees and touched the ground. His gloves were also specialized for this specific battle. It had spikes on them, so when he touched the floor, it made an awful sound. But it made him slow down until he finally made a full stop.

CJ looked straight at Hans across the platform. With a smirk, the duke suddenly threw a bomb at their direction.

Cigarettes dove for cover as the bombs exploded, not with fire, but smoke that coated their skin in greasy residue. 

“What the fuck is this?! Lotion?” one shouted, trying to wipe it off, only to smear it further.

“This is definitely BND’s equipment. Jokers are way too poor to own something like this,” CJ growled, glancing back at his men who were struggling to keep their footing.

Fortunately, this was Cigarettes’ grounds. They were just as prepared as the other two. They had rubberized gear on their hands, elbows, knees and feet, which helped them from sliding off.

“Everyone okay?” CJ’s right-hand asked, and the other counts steadied themselves and nodded.

With a confident grin on his face, CJ looked back at their opponent and said, “My turn.”

|END|

75 | The Deal

♞

“MY TURN,” CJ SAID, placing two fingers in his mouth to whistle. The sharp sound echoed, and his strongest underlings, the Ashes, rushed to the sacks of sand they had prepared and began catapulting them toward Cigarettes.

Cigarettes caught the sacks and began hurling them toward the opposing side, instantly tipping the stage. A member then attached a rope to CJ and another count’s belt. The ropes were made of bungee material so they could spring back after a fall.

Two other members held onto the ropes before stepping on what seemed to be climbing holds you’d normally see at wall climbing. Cigarettes specifically added them as stoppers.

“Let’s go!” CJ shouted, launching himself toward Hans while the other members headed straight to Team Protector’s base.

While Master Joker and the others tightened their defense, Hans drew his pistol. With one spiked glove still scraping the floor to keep him from skidding backward, he aimed for CJ’s arm. But just before the shot landed, the handler on CJ’s rope yanked hard. CJ bounced back upward, the bullet missing clean.

Hans cursed and glanced at his team. “We’ve gotta take out those two bungee-jumping bastards first!” he commanded, sighting the rope handlers.

“I’ve got an idea!” Brave yelled, snapping wheels onto his boots and grabbing Marcus. “We have to tilt the ground.”

Marcus didn’t waste words. He clipped wheels to his boots, too, and rocketed toward the sandbags, ready to shove them off Cigarettes’ side to force a counter-tilt.

As they closed in, a Cigarettes member pointed a gun at them. Marcus spotted it a second early and shoved Brave out of the line of fire, taking a shot through his hand instead.

“Shit…”

Blood dripped onto the surface. The shooter raised the pistol again, but this time he was too slow. Marcus ripped a knife from his boot and threw it directly into the man’s thigh. The count dropped the gun in agony, losing his balance on the slick coat left by Hans’s grease-bombs.

Marcus waited for him on the other side. As the injured fighter slid into range, Marcus kicked him clean off the edge.

“Cigarettes’ Orson Bloom is off the grounds. Only six members are remaining for Cigarettes,” Alisa announced. 

CJ cursed the moment he heard it.

With everyone distracted, Marcus shouldered a sandbag before tossing it to the other side. Brave sprinted, skates rolling fast, towards Cigarettes’ base. The added weight made the grounds tilt again,

CJ and the other count, who was being supported by the rope, slid back to their base. Even the members holding onto them lost footing and stumbled back.

One of the counts got mad and charged at Master Joker and the others.

“Arjun! You go ahead and handle this bastard. I’m pushing through to their base!” Krist shouted, slipping a punch and shoving the attacker into Arjun’s waiting fist.

While Arjun worked him over, Krist glanced at Toni and Dhanin. “Slingshot me!”

“Right away, Master Joker!”

Krist clipped wheels to his boots. Toni caught his arm and spun him in a widening circle twice before letting go. Krist slid down the slope toward Cigarettes’ base at terrifying speed.

As the baron got closer to the base, he bent down and touched the floor with his spiked gloves, just like what Hans did. But Krist overestimated the momentum. He was going too fast, and the gloves weren’t enough to stop him.

“Oh, no!” Krist yelped, watching the edge race closer. One more meter and he’d be out.

In a panic, Krist cursed and shouted, “Hans!”

Hans looked back, eyes wide in shock. “Krist!”

Without wasting a second, BND’s leader sprinted towards the jester. CJ spotted them and opened fire, but Hans had better defence than anyone on the battle grounds. He calculated where the bullets would land and smoothly dodged every single one. The unbelievable scene caused the crowd to cheer.

“Here he comes!” a Cigarettes member warned.

They assumed Hans would dive for Krist. But to their surprise, Hans shifted gears and tackled CJ instead, dragging the count down the slope with him.

The members of Cigarettes were dumbfounded for a second before their instinct took over. They grabbed CJ’s rope hand-over-hand to keep him from going over. 

Meanwhile, Hans quickly went to Krist and shouted, “Take my hand!”

Krist was surprised to see both CJ and Hans zooming towards him, but he managed to reach for the duke at the last possible second. 

The three leaders were inches away from falling off the grounds, but thanks to the members holding onto CJ’s elastic rope, the three of them bounced back, just as Hans expected.

Hans and Krist thought they were saved. Not until CJ looked back at his members and shouted, “Let go of the rope!”

“What?! Are you fucking crazy?!” Krist yelled.

“If they let go, all three of us get eliminated!” Hans snapped.

CJ, who knew exactly what he was doing, laughed sadistically and answered, “I’m fucking counting on it!”

With no hesitation, the members holding onto the rope let go. All three leaders—CJ, Hans, and Krist—plunged off the battle grounds.

The stadium went dead quiet as the trio landed hard on the floor below. With leaders out, the rule was clear. They had to determine who hit the ground first. If it were CJ, Team Protectors would win. If it were Hans or Krist, Cigarettes would take the victory.

“Holy shit, did that just fucking happen?” Krist groaned, rubbing his head. He then blinked up to find Hans sprawled on top of him. CJ was also beside him, massaging his aching arm.

The fall was high, but the Alpha Society had planned ahead. The grounds below the seesaw were soft. Falling wasn’t life-threatening, but it still hurt.

“That went well, didn’t it?” Krist sarcastically said, making Hans chuckle.

“A ‘you’re welcome’ would’ve been nice,” Hans replied, pushing himself off Krist and offering him a hand.

“Alpha Society will review the footage to determine who fell first,” someone announced, and the chatter in the stadium grew louder. The fall happened too fast. They couldn’t tell who touched the ground first.

While everyone waited for the results, Hans drew a breath and looked at Master Joker. Krist held his gaze, then gave a single nod to give Hans the go signal.

No one expected what happened next. Before anyone could make a prediction, Hans raised his hands and announced, “We forfeit!”

The noise drained from the stands like someone pulled a plug.

CJ couldn’t hide the shock on his face as he stared at Hans. The rest of the counts who were still above them were also speechless.

Krist stepped forward and gripped Hans’s shoulder as he repeated, steady and clear, “We forfeit the battle.”

“What?!” Ari, watching from the bleachers, shouted in shock. 

Felix only sighed and leaned back with his arms crossed. “I knew it,” he murmured.

Ervin looked away from the grounds and looked back at their friend with furrowed brows. “Knew what?”

Felix didn’t look away from the leaders when he answered, “They were never trying to win. They challenged Cigarettes, so CJ would be forced to make a deal with Max.”

“And why would they want CJ to—” Ari stopped, realization hitting. “The article!”

Alpha had barely started for the replay booth when Hans’s announcement halted everything. It no longer mattered who landed first. A forfeit meant automatic loss.

“BND and Jokers have forfeited the battle,” the voice declared, and the stadium exploded, louder than ever.

“The winner of this year’s third brotherhood battle is…” Sirens wailed, and BND’s and Jokers’ banners dropped from the ceiling. Lighters and Ashes leapt to their feet, roaring. “The Counts…Cigarettes!”

Shock rolled through the crowd, but most of them still cheered from the entertaining battle.

The seesaw ground slowly descended. As soon as it locked in place, each brotherhood rushed to their respective leaders while the medics arrived to check on the injured.

“I hope we made the right call,” Brave said as they reached Krist and Hans.

“This was Krist’s idea, so we’ll blame him if it goes south,” Hans replied, and the jester glared at him in response.

“I think it was enough,” Arjun interjected.

“I mean, the little toy told us to perform,” Krist said. “And when our tamer asks for something, we’re required to exceed his expectations. That’s not up for argument.”

The brotherhoods looked at Master Joker and agreed. Max wasn’t alone on this anymore. 

“I guess it’s my brother’s turn now,” Marcus, whose hand was bleeding, said as he swallowed the pain. “We can perform and battle until we’re unable to stand, but if he makes the wrong move, all of this…was for nothing.”

…

As soon as Max heard the sirens, he got off the bed and faced the vice president. “It’s over. I’m allowed to go now, don’t you think?” he asked, anxiety sharpening his voice since he had no idea what had happened out there.

Gavriil, still guarding the door with his dear life, crossed his arms and looked directly at Max’s eyes. “Your protectors have given you the opportunity you need to conquer Cigarettes. Use it wisely.”

“What are you talking about?” Max asked, baffled.

Gavriil didn’t answer as he stepped toward Max, who wanted to move away but couldn’t. Gavriil stopped inches from him, towering over the dweller with a serious expression. He then leaned close and whispered in his ear, “ Leigh…take everything back with an iron fist. Whatever happens, do not waver. “

Before Max could respond, Gavriil stepped back, opened the door, and left.

Max stared after him, Gavriil’s words tangling in his head. Of everything the vice president had said, one thing rang loudest.

“Leigh…he called me Leigh,” Max muttered, frowning. Why did it sound so strange yet so familiar? He needed answers, but the door swung open again, cutting off the thought.

He expected one of his protectors. Instead—

“C-CJ?” Max blurted, eyes widening.

He staggered back as the Counts’ leader strode in, rage visible on his face.

“You…” CJ growled, slamming the door shut. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Max swallowed.

“You sly son of a bitch.”

Before Max could even get a word out, CJ grabbed him by the cheeks, making it impossible for Max to move.

“I fell first,” CJ said, furious. “When the three of us went over, I hit the ground first.”

Max didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t know the details since he hadn’t seen the fight. He tried to remove CJ’s hand from him, but the count was too strong. Too angry.

“I should have lost,” CJ spat. “But that damn duke forfeited.”

The memory made CJ’s jaw tighten. “You think I’ll just let that slide? After making a fool out of me in front of everyone?”

He shoved Max backward until Max fell onto the bed, catching his breath as his stinging cheeks throbbed. He wanted to say something, but the memory of what CJ had done to him flooded back. Max could no longer move. He finally understood why CJ’s victims never spoke up about what he had done to them.

They were too afraid.

They were terrified of him.

“I’m so pissed I could kill someone right now,” CJ said, and Max’s heart began to race. 

He felt like he was going to die before CJ could even touch him. His vision darkened, chest tightened. But before he could lose himself again, Gavriil’s voice cut through the panic in Max’s head.

“Whatever happens, do not waver.”

The words calmed him in an instant. With forced courage, he met CJ’s gaze. “That’s right. I planned it all.” He lied.

He didn’t know how the battle went, but with CJ’s reaction, Max could read between the lines. He wasn’t stupid enough to piece everything together.

“You sent that white uniform to Omega Society to show me how powerful you are, didn’t you?” Max went on, and CJ’s fury turned into a slow, chilling grin.

“You wanted to scare me, to make me believe what happened to James Hudson could happen to me, too. But I’m not afraid of you. And your false victory today proves it.”

Max rose to his feet, meeting CJ head-on. Courage returned like a tide. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had his protectors, his friends…and, strangely, even Viktor and Gavriil, whose advice had landed when he needed it most.

“Don’t challenge me, Charles Justin Mills,” Max said quietly. “I have more bullets than you can shoot.”

The room fell into silence, then CJ’s laugh rolled out, low and taunting. 

“They were right. You’re hard to break,” CJ said with a grin. He pulled out a black-and-gold cigarette holder from his pocket, as well as a gold lighter.

Max watched as CJ lit the cigarette. Without removing his eyes from the white uniform, CJ inhaled the smoke and said, “If you’re so desperate for my attention, then allow me to give it to you.”

He exhaled smoke and stepped in, shoving Max back onto the mattress again. Max pushed up, but CJ climbed on top of him, caging him there.

“Alright, Maxy, let’s make a deal.”

Max’s eyes widened as soon as he heard the offer. 

So this was it—the opening Gavriil had promised, and the reason BND and Jokers pulled their banner. They wanted CJ to make a deal with Max because this was his only way to make them pay for humiliating him. Making Max his homeboy would be his revenge.

Max almost grinned.

He had asked Jokers for help right after his week-long absence, and they had actually done it.

Instead of fear, adrenaline surged. The dam that kept his insanity in check no longer felt like a burden. This time, he was going to let it overflow. He knew that he wasn’t going to drown in it anymore.

“Listen closely, you sly little fox,” CJ said, licking his lips. 

With his left hand supporting his weight, CJ placed the cigarette stick in front of his mouth and inhaled. While the smoke escaped his lips, CJ declared, “As leader of the Counts, I present a Tobacco Deal : before midnight, every piece of news about you disappears, including that article. Everyone will forget you, just like you wanted.”

“How long am I your homeboy if you succeed?” Max asked.

CJ considered. “Three days. Not bad, right? So…do we have a deal?”

He didn’t wait for Max’s answer. Instead, he lowered the cigarette to Max’s lips. It was an unspoken ritual, but Max knew exactly what to do.

Max leaned close and inhaled the smoke from the cigarette. The count watched as Max moved closer until there was barely any space left between their lips. With a grin, Max slowly exhaled the smoke inside CJ’s mouth and whispered, “ That’s a deal. “

|END|

76 | His Homeboy

♞

MARCUS STARED AT THE food on his plate, expression blank. He lifted his gaze. The long table that could seat a dozen was empty. The dishes in front of him were also exquisite, but without company, everything tasted bland.

“Where’s your young master?” he asked, glancing toward the three maids standing by.

The sudden question startled them, but the one in the middle stepped forward to answer. “He has not arrived yet, Sir Marcus.”

Marcus gave a nod and lowered his eyes to his bandaged hand. He curled his fist, and the pain immediately escalated in his entire body, but Marcus didn’t show it.

Barely touching his dinner, he pushed his plate away and said, “I’m done.”

He had just risen from his seat when footsteps entered the dining room. The maids instantly bowed. Marcus turned and found Max in his white uniform, Étienne following right behind him.

“Master Leigh, we thought you would be dining out. We’ll call the chef and ask for—” one maid began.

“There’s enough here,” Max said, removing his cap and passing it to Étienne before sitting across from Marcus.

The maids rushed to set the table for him. But while they were doing so, Marcus took a deep breath and got up. He was about to leave when a voice suddenly said, “Sit.”

Marcus turned to Max in irritation, but Max wasn’t even looking at him. He wanted to say something, but he kept quiet and sank back to his seat instead, like a child who got scolded by his mother.

The atmosphere around them grew thick. Marcus grew tired and finally asked, “Where have you been?”

Before answering, Max took a slice of fish, which was safe for him since his allergy ran to shellfish. He waited for a butler to pour water into his glass before he could answer. “I had to prepare a couple of things for tonight.”

“Did CJ make a deal with you?”

“Yes,” Max answered, as if it were obvious. “Like you all planned.”

“What deal did he give you?” 

Max took a bite of his fish, still not meeting Marcus’s eyes. “You’ll see,” he answered.

Marcus stared at his brother, waiting for him to at least ask him about what happened to him during the battle or how he got his injury. But Max was stubborn. He didn’t say anything, and Marcus could no longer stomach the silence. He got up from his seat again. “Enjoy your meal then.”

Étienne, who was standing near Max, watched without saying anything. But before Marcus could reach the door, Max said, “Heard you strangled a Rose. You think you’ll do it to Jacks too if you get pissed off?”

As soon as Marcus heard the question, he immediately turned back around and strode to where Max was seated. He was about to get close when Étienne grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “Let’s calm down,” he said.

Marcus ignored him, pushing Étienne’s hand away so he could grab Max’s arm, forcing him off his seat. The maids gasped when they saw the blood on their master’s sleeve. Marcus had grabbed him with his injured hand.

“Let’s drop the act, Max. It doesn’t fucking suit us,” Marcus said, grip tightening. “All that talk and you end up ignoring me. Your attitude is getting annoying.”

“Let go of me.”

“Stop pretending you don’t blame me. Deep down, you wish you didn’t have an older brother. If I weren’t around, none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Max said seriously, and Étienne immediately gave a nod at the maids. They didn’t need verbal instructions. They instantly bowed and slipped out so they wouldn’t be able to hear Max and Marcus’ heated argument.

“You won’t say it, so I will,” Marcus pressed, stepping closer. “You wanted me to take the inheritance because you knew I’d fail, and my failure would be your revenge on our father, isn’t that right?”

“Don’t—”

“I’m not a child, Max, but you certainly are, so stop dragging me down with you. I don’t care about our promise anymore. I don’t care about the family, or that cursed company, I—”

Marcus was cut off when Max suddenly grabbed his collar. Étienne got ready to push them away from each other, but then Max pulled Marcus in and hugged him, fierce and sudden.

“W-What are you—”

“I want my big brother back,” Max finally said, voice softer and almost child-like.

As soon as the words left Max’s mouth, Étienne exhaled and stepped out as well. He only stayed behind because he knew about Max’s current mental state. He was afraid Max would say or do something he’d later on regret.

Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

“I want you to smile at me. To pat my head and tell me it’ll be alright. To worry about me. To be there. To scold me when I’m wrong,” Max went on, arms locked tight.

“But I keep pushing you away because whatever I do, even if I keep denying it myself, even if I pretend that I’m okay, or that I know exactly what I’m doing…I’m slowly becoming the person you despise the most.” He swallowed, and a tear finally streamed down his cheek.

“I don’t want to be like my mother, but for fuck’s sake I’m so lost. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. These voices in my head keep getting louder, and I feel like the only way for me to keep myself from completely breaking is if I become her. But I’m so scared, Marcus. I don’t—”

Max stopped in an instant when he felt Marcus’s arms come around him. It was warm. Familiar. The voice in his head instantly calmed down.

He had almost forgotten how important Marcus was to him.

“I want my little brother back, too,” Marcus whispered, tightening the embrace.

“I’m not the best brother, I know that. But I’m blessed with a younger one whom I am able to love unconditionally. So, Max, you can curse me, shout at me, hit me—do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me like that again.”

Max buried his face in Marcus’s shoulder. The tears came for them both, and with them, everything felt lighter again. For a long minute, they said nothing. It was exactly what they needed.

Later, after they’d actually eaten, they moved to the study with Étienne. Marcus sat on the sofa and stared at Étienne while he cleaned and rewrapped his hand. Max was sitting on the edge of the desk, watching them while he swung his feet like a kid.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you battle,” Max said. “I wanted to. Just once.”

“You’d only be disappointed. I got shot,” Marcus said, half-laughing.

Max smiled. “I’m pretty sure you were shot because you saved someone. That’s your personality, after all.”

Marcus smiled back, realizing that his brother really does know him best. He then checked the clock. “It’s already 10 p.m. CJ’s probably cleared your article by now.”

“Probably,” Max said lightly.

Étienne began the final wrap when Marcus remembered something. “You know, the family advisors said to ignore it, but I am curious who the insider was. It wasn’t the Sinclaires since the majority of them oppose the wedding and wouldn’t risk the scandal of that leak.”

“You think it’s your mother?” Max teased, but Marcus seriously considered it.

“I’m kidding,” Max immediately said. “She’s not going to risk angering my father. That article could have triggered the old man to cancel the wedding. Edith knows Denzel enough to expect such an outcome.”

“You have a point, but who could it be?”

Max had wondered, too. “The only ones who knew were Jokers, BND…Ari, Felix, and Ervin. Beyond that—” He stopped before adding Viktor to the list. No telling how Marcus would react if he found out he had been staying in Viktor’s apartment when he went missing.

“Anyway, it could be anyone. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I know what to do now. One article won’t knock me down.”

Marcus watched that calm face and felt the old worry bite. Max had told him CJ’s terms, which were exactly what they’d anticipated. But still, he couldn’t help but be anxious.

“Are you sure you can handle being his homeboy?” Marcus asked. “CJ is…manipulative. He tailors the blade for each person. He’s not someone you can easily mess with.”

Max chuckled and hopped off the desk, arms crossing. “And who told you I was going to be his homeboy anyway?”

…

CJ strode down the corridor, employees bowing as he passed. His secretary hurried behind him, saying nothing. When CJ finished his cigarette, he tossed it to his secretary, who barely had the reaction time to catch it.

“News on the task I gave you earlier?” he asked.

When they reached his office, the secretary ran past him to open the door. “Yes, Master Charles. I contacted every station, network, outlet, and press the Mills family is connected with,” she answered.

CJ entered the room first before dropping into his chair.

“It was rushed, but we found the CEO of Crimson Entertainment has been having an affair with a well-known male actor. We pushed it to everyone. It’ll bury the Sinclaire heir story for sure,” she reported further as she stood in front of CJ’s desk.

“And the article?”

“Erased. Anyone who republishes faces lawsuits.”

CJ chuckled and checked his watch. Ten minutes to midnight, and CJ had finally fulfilled the end of his deal. “ Get ready to be my new homeboy, little Maxy ,“ he said with sadistic excitement.

“Do you want anything else, Master Charles?” she asked.

“Do I want anything else?” CJ asked back, eyeing his secretary from head to toe with a grin. “You know, I’m in a pretty good mood today, Ms. Rosemary . So maybe we could do something that would make both of us feel good together?”

Rosemary swallowed and looked away from CJ’s intense stare. She had been his fourth secretary for this month alone. There had been rumors about what type of man CJ was, yet no one could resist him. The pay was good, and being a Mills was a plus on their resume.

“I…I don’t understand—”

The room fell into silence as CJ continued to stare at his secretary, licking his lips as the tension between them got stronger. But before anything could happen, her phone buzzed.

“E-excuse me, sir.” She checked the message to see what it was about. But when she saw what was written, she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

The grin on CJ’s face instantly vanished. “What is it?”

She locked the screen in a panic. “My apologies, sir. I’ll handle it at once.”

Rosemary turned to go, but CJ immediately stood from his seat and grabbed her wrist. She gulped and faced CJ, who was staring back at her with a menacing expression. The secretary felt her chest tighten in an instant.

“I apologize, Master Charles. I have failed you,” she said, bowing deeply.

CJ’s grip tightened, and Rosemary winced from the pain.

“Master, I…I’m r-really—”

Just before the secretary could start begging on her knees, CJ let go of her and grabbed the remote on his desk. He turned the television on, and Max’s face instantly filled the screen.

“Yesterday, an article claimed the young heir to Sinclaire Corp., Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, is no longer in line for chairman,” the news anchor said. “The family neither confirmed nor denied the report—until today.”

CJ’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“The heir has just released a statement. And I quote: ‘It is true. My rights to the company have been renounced. I will not hide or cower, for I did unimaginable things to earn that title. Though it is with a heavy heart that I admit my family has betrayed me, I will earn back their trust and prove why I deserve to be the next chairman .’”

The text appeared beside Max’s photo. CJ’s fingers dug into the remote hard enough to crack plastic.

“We sought the family’s response to his use of the word ‘betrayal,’ but their representative declined comment. John, back to you—”

CJ took a deep breath and changed the channel again, and again, and again. But every time he clicked on the remote, the screen only showed Max’s face.

There was silence for a second…until CJ threw the remote at the television so hard it broke the screen. Rosemary shrieked in terror as the shards hit the floor.

CJ was panting heavily as he stared at Max’s face through the cracks. “You sly little fox,” he said before looking at his watch. As he expected, it was already midnight.

For the first time, CJ had failed to fulfill his own deal.

Rosemary wanted to approach her master when CJ suddenly started laughing. It was low at first, but then it became manic. She wanted to say something, but CJ instantly stopped laughing as he shouted, “Get out of my sight! Now!”

His secretary flinched, but she didn’t waste the opportunity to leave the room.

As soon as he was left alone, CJ brushed his hair back with his fingers, ruining his perfectly waxed hair. He laughed at himself again as if he had finally lost it. But unlike earlier, his laughter was taunting.

He walked closer to the screen and stared at Max’s fractured image. “You really are like our old president. How annoying.”

While the broken TV continued reporting on Max’s statement, CJ returned to his desk and took a seat. He rested his elbow on the surface and interlaced his fingers.

“Nothing else to do now,” he said with a grin. “Might as well have fun.”

|END|

77 | Your Master

♞

WARNING

Graphic violence. Read at your own risk.

MAX AND HIS FRIENDS HEADED toward the Great Hall for lunch. White uniforms stole looks at the boy walking in the middle of their formation, especially since last night’s news left everyone dumbfounded. 

Most heirs would have kept quiet or waited for the rumor to die down, but Max had poured gasoline on it instead. Some said it was a power move, while others whispered madness.

“He’s seriously gone mad,” one student muttered.

Usually, Max would let it pass. But today was different. He approached the student with a grin. The sudden confrontation had left the others flustered.

“Gone mad, you say?” Max asked, towering over him.

The kid swallowed and kept his mouth shut. They were both gaffers, but after yesterday’s outburst, they knew not to face him head-on.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Max lifted his hand, attempting to reach out to him. But just before things could get heated, Ari grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Forget about him,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Max chuckled and pulled his hand away. Thankfully, he didn’t argue and walked off with no question. But as they made their way down the hall, Ervin turned back around and looked at the spectators. The terrifying glare scattered them in an instant.

When they got to the Great Hall, students stared and whispered, but no one talked loud enough for Max to hear, especially with Jokers and BND around.

“Max!” Marcus called out.

Max, Ari, Felix, and Ervin approached their table. Marcus happily greeted his brothers, which surprised the other brotherhoods. They didn’t know what had happened between them, but they were glad that the old Marcus was back.

“If it isn’t the little toy who created such a buzz last night,” Krist teased.

“Your face was everywhere. I almost got jealous,” Red added.

“Really? I tried to keep it low-key. Be grateful I didn’t hold a press conference,” Max answered, and Red rolled his eyes back before giving out a playful smile.

Brave, who was devouring the chips he stole from Rome, pointed at Max and said, “Press con? Now that I’d pay to see.”

“Oh, please, do you even have the mental capacity to understand half of what’s happening in a press conference?” Red jabbed, instantly making Brave stand from his seat with his hands on his hips.

He got ready to rebuke, but Krist grabbed his arm and pulled him back to his seat. “Enough,” he said, turning to Red. “But if you’re so bothered, maybe write a fake article about yourself, Red, since you love the spotlight so much,” Krist teased right after.

“I do not!”

Max watched the bickering with a soft smile. After everything that happened in the past few days, the ordinary chaos tasted sweet.

As the waiters arrived to serve their lunch, Max looked back at his protectors and told them, “I didn’t get the chance to see you guys, but…thanks for battling Cigarettes on my behalf. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to make a deal with CJ.”

Everyone turned to Max and got quiet.

“Please don’t make us vomit,” Khian cut in the silence, and everyone at the table laughed.

Marcus had messaged everyone about Max and CJ’s deal. The outcome was better than they expected, but at least they were able to make the first more. They’re just glad things went according to plan.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Toni said.

“I mean, wasn’t this your plan?” Hansol said after.

“It was, but I only told Jokers to provoke Cigarettes. I didn’t mean Jokers and BND together,” Max clarified, and the dukes chuckled, remembering how the surprise ’ team-up ’ transpired. 

The barons actually wanted to do it alone, but Hans didn’t trust the Jester enough to pull it off himself. They argued a bit but eventually reached a mutual decision.

BND and Jokers never worked together in their life. They’re probably the two brotherhoods you’d never expect to see together, yet here they were. 

“Hans told me that if we battled CJ by ourselves, they wouldn’t take us seriously. Having BND fight with us provoked him. I know CJ. He’d take the battle and the entire loss personally.”

“Besides, it wasn’t just for you,” Hans added. “He’s put plenty of students through hell. Call it…interest on old debts.”

Max nodded. Whatever their reasons, they were still able to crack the door open for him, and that small gap was enough for Max to push himself through.

“Though I highly doubt that he’d be affected by this in the long run. With CJ, what you see is what you get. He’d get mad for a bit, but after an hour or so, he’ll laugh it off and move on. That’s how fucked up he is.”

Felix, who was finishing his blood pudding, looked at the leaders and asked, “Then what would make him lose his composure? What’s the one thing that would finally push him to his limits? I’m sure what Max did somehow triggered something.”

Krist shook his head. “That’s the problem. To him, it didn’t.”

“CJ’s been through actual hell. His family is basically the mafia of the business world. He was raised in a cruel environment, so there’s nothing we could do that could possibly break him,” Hans answered, twirling his pasta.

“So he’s made of steel?” Ari asked.

“Molded,” Marcus said. “His family needed perfect sons, and their forceful ways turned him rebellious. He’s not scared to take risks, and he’s not the kind to give up when the going gets rough. But despite that, he follows the rules of J.S. High like law. And those who follow a flawed system are always the most terrifying.”

“He’s basically like Viktor,” Brave said.

“So this was for nothing? After everything you guys did, he won’t help Max?” Ervin asked this time, and the brotherhoods grinned.

“Oh, he’ll help,” Arjun answered with a chuckle. “He’ll even walk on all fours like a dog if Max asks him to. But that won’t be enough to break him. For CJ, everything is a game. As long as it’s fun, he’ll continue playing along,” BND’s second-in-command explained, leaving Ari, Felix, and Ervin looking worried.

Max, on the other hand, was listening to everyone’s intel about the counts’ leader. He sipped his tea and fidgeted with the brooches on his collar.

“I honestly don’t care what kind of person Charles Justin Mills is. I don’t even care if he gives me his crown brooch or his merit points. All I want is to get the company back, and unfortunately for all of us, he’s the only person in this castle who can help me,” Max said, looking up at the balconies to stare at Cigarettes’ banner.

But while looking, he spotted the Royals having their lunch, and then noticed someone missing among them.

“Where is he?” Max asked out loud.

The others looked up as well and realized who Max was referring to.

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. Viktor wasn’t here yesterday either. No one knows why, and honestly, we don’t really care.”

Max frowned, then let it go. Viktor was an heir who had his own problems. Max shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

“Anyway, we should plan in case CJ—”

Just as Krist was about to suggest something to the group, the doors of the Great Hall opened, revealing the Counts, Cigarettes, and their strongest underlings, the Ashes. No one wanted to pay them any mind, not until they noticed something.

“Holy shit,” Ari said, mouth agape.

The rest of them in their table turned, and like Ari, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

The seven members of Cigarettes, along with the Ashes, walked in the middle of the aisle to approach them. Max watched, surprised, but then a grin slowly appeared on his face.

The counts were wearing dog collars. 

Max wanted to laugh, but everyone walked like they were proud to be homeboys for the first time. Laughing wouldn’t insult them. And Max didn’t want to waste his breath.

“It’s official, then,” Krist said, biting on his sushi. “CJ’s as crazy as Viktor. Maybe worse.”

The white uniforms began to whisper amongst themselves until the members finally stopped in front of Max.

Max stared at their leader. CJ didn’t have a hint of anger or resentment in his eyes, just like how Krist and the others expected. CJ was definitely playing along, but in this game, Max was on the losing end.

“Master,” CJ said. One word, and the Hall fell dead quiet. They couldn’t believe that the once-powerful leader would bow to a dweller like Max. 

“How may we serve you?” he asked.

CJ and the rest of the members bowed in front of Max. But unlike the day Jokers and BND knelt, this felt different. It was submission in the form of mockery. 

Max didn’t mind, though. Bow, sit, roll over. Nothing mattered. What mattered was CJ opening a path for Max so he could talk to his father. Everything else was just a performance.

“Perfect timing,” Max said, standing. His protectors didn’t stop him, but they watched him on high alert. If anything were to happen, they’d be ready.

“It suits you,” he said, reaching out to touch the collar.

CJ chuckled and tilted his head back so Max could get a better view. “I’m pleased you approve.”

Max let go and looked back at the other counts with a bored sigh. He wanted them to leave, but then a twisted idea presented itself to him. 

“You know what, there is something you can do for me,” Max said with a grin.

“What is it, master?” A member covered in tattoos and piercings asked.

 Everyone was listening attentively. Even the Royals stopped what they were doing to get a better view of what was about to happen.

Max had unlimited power—he could ask for anything. But what he wanted left everyone completely speechless.

“Beat your leader until he bleeds.”

The Hall stopped breathing. 

A dweller just ordered a brotherhood to brutalize its own leader. 

Somewhere above, a royal let out a dry chuckle. BND and Jokers, on the other hand, didn’t react. The white uniforms expected them to stop Max, but everyone kept eating as if they hadn’t heard anything.

Even Ari, Felix, and Ervin said nothing. After what CJ did to Max, this only seemed fair. The three of them had once begged CJ to stop as the leader mercilessly stepped on Max’s neck like it was nothing. This was karma. They believed it was.

“Well?” Max asked, eyebrow raised.

The members of Cigarettes exchanged a glance. Max half-expected them to protest, but then two of them grabbed their leader’s arms with no hesitation. 

The tattoo-covered count, who everyone knew as Cigarettes’ second-in-command, was  Anthony Rockefeller . He approached CJ with a blank stare and then…

…drove a fist into CJ’s gut. 

It landed so fast that most couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

But it wasn’t just one time. After the first blow, Anthony raised a fist and drove another punch on CJ. And then another. And another. And another.

It didn’t stop there, however. When Anthony was done with him, the two counts holding CJ from falling finally let him go. As soon as he dropped to the floor, the other members circled him and began kicking him, too.

The quiet hall was filled with the sound that came from the count’s leader. The white uniforms watched in horror. A lot of the students at J.S. High hated CJ. In their minds, this was a punishment well deserved. But somehow, they couldn’t stomach it. No one wanted to look.

The only person who was really watching was Max. He stared at him, expression blank. Even his underlings were trying their best not to look away, but CJ wanted them to see. They wanted to witness what kind of master the most powerful heir could be.

After several punishing strikes, Max raised a hand. The Counts backed off in an instant and moved away. The students gasped when they saw the state that CJ was in.

Blood was oozing out from CJ’s mouth and nose. They could barely recognize his face, but Max didn’t flinch. He took a step and looked down at the leader with amusement.

“I gotta hand it to you, Mills. Cigarettes really are the most terrifying brotherhood in this house.”

CJ wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his cheek. His body ached and trembled, but he forced his head up and smiled as his teeth glistened with blood. “W-What else can we do for you…Master Sinclaire?”

Max looked down. “Let’s see…”

There was a pause for a second, and then, “Crawl to me and kiss my boot.”

Students gasped, while others swallowed in their newfound fear. Max didn’t smile. He didn’t even chuckle or smirk. He just stared, his eyes almost hollow. The serf who’d arrived months ago was gone. To conquer Cigarettes—and the crowns beyond—he had to show them why he was called the most powerful heir in the world.

This was the only way to make them realize that an inheritance wasn’t the only reason why Max was ranked one.

“Can you do it?” Max asked.

CJ laughed softly and licked blood from his lips. He forced himself to sit up, and then he crawled. 

It was that moment when Krist and the others finally looked at him. They expected he’d accept the beating, but this? This was below him. This was something they never imagined he’d do.

They continued to watch as CJ reached Max’s left boot in disbelief. He bowed lower, and when his mouth hovered above it…

Max kicked him across the face.

Everyone gasped, but Max wasn’t done. He stepped onto CJ’s stomach, grabbed his dog collar, and pulled the leader close until there was barely any space left between them.

“You did well, homeboy,” Max said, his eyes piercing straight through him. “It’s almost admirable, but I don’t like people who do well. I like them insane. I like them crawling on the floor, elbows and knees bleeding,” he said, repeating every word CJ had once told him back then.

“But you haven’t bled enough, Count.”

He released the collar and kicked him back. CJ coughed up blood, but he managed to stand despite his current state.

Krist, who was still watching, gripped his spoon and looked at the count with almost pleading eyes. “ Don’t move, “ he whispered, his voice too soft to carry. “ For god’s sake, Charles, don’t fucking move anymore. “

But CJ did anyway. He stood like a count that he was, prideful and unwavering. He then took a step, then another, balance failing every time he got closer.  

“Y-you’re good…really good…” he said, grinning through the blood and bruises.

Max, who had been watching with a blank expression, finally laughed. He looked at CJ, patted his cheek, and then turned to face the members of Cigarettes again.

“Looks like he still has strength in him. Impressive,” he said with a smile that slowly turned into something more sadistic. “Alright. Beat him up again. But this time…don’t stop until something breaks.”

Cigarettes obeyed with no question. They tackled their already injured leader to the ground and began beating him up again. Punching and kicking with no mercy. No loyalty. Just like trained dogs listening to their cruel master.

That was when BND and Jokers were supposed to stop him. Ari, Felix, and Ervin, too. But none of them moved. The Great Hall watched, horrified, as a quieter truth surfaced…

Viktor wasn’t absent.

He was here.

He was Max.

And for the first time, they understood that a crown wasn’t what made a king.

|END|

78 | Clouded Memories

♞

“WHY CAN MATERIALS SUCH as water and fat enter the cell freely, while proteins and sugar need to undergo cell transport?” asked Mrs. Helena Pennington, their biology professor. Half the class was nodding off, while the other half stared blankly at their textbooks.

Ari, Gavriil, and another top student shot their hands up—again. Mrs. Pennington sighed. Those three had been carrying the discussion throughout the period.

“Come on, people, let’s stay alive! Anyone else?” When the silence continued, Mrs. Pennington sighed and added, “Fifty merit points if you nail it.”

Hands shot up like moths to a porch light. Everyone woke up and participated despite not knowing the answer. Even Max and Ervin joined in, raising their hands for a shot of that 50 MP.

But while everyone was hoping to get called, Felix Campbell stayed quiet. He slouched in his seat, looking bored to death.

Mrs. Pennington smiled at the enthusiasm…and then called on the one person who hadn’t raised a hand. “Mr. Campbell, you’ve been awfully quiet since school started. Show us why you’re the third honorary student. What’s the answer?”

Everyone put their hands down and turned to the little one.

“Don’t worry,” she added. “Getting something wrong means…”

“Getting a chance to know what’s right,” the class lazily answered, and Mrs. Pennington clapped her hands as if she were teaching kindergarten students.

Felix turned to Ari, who was making faces. He rolled his eyes back, sighed, and got up from his seat to answer,

“Water can enter the cell because the hydrophilic head is exposed outside the structure of the cell membrane. While fat, on the other hand, can enter because the cell membrane is composed of phospholipids, which are made out of fat.”

Mrs. Pennington clapped again. “Absolutely correct.” She tapped her desk, and a hologram of a cell spun to life as she expanded on Felix’s answer to the class.

“Questions so far?”

“How about materials other than water and fat?” a student asked. “How do they get in?”

“Well, substances such as—” The bell cut her off before she could answer. She didn’t even have to say anything as the class shut their books and got up from their seats in an automatic response.

Mrs. Pennington surrendered with a smile. “Alright, class, think about Mr. Ahmad’s question. We’ll pick it up next time. Also, no classes for two days for All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day. Don’t show up by accident. Now head home safely, everyone!”

She killed the hologram and packed up. “Oh, Mr. Class Rep, help me carry these?”

Ari, who was already zipping his bag, glared at Max and muttered, “I still blame you for this,” then jogged to the front to take their professor’s things.

“We’ll meet you at the Keep!” Ervin called. Ari nodded and followed Mrs. Pennington out.

“Thank God for the long weekend,” Felix said, appearing beside his friends. “I’m looking forward to it because I can finally do something that isn’t studying,” he added, which was ironic since he was the only one who looked studious in his group, but in reality, he wasn’t.

“Well, I’m thinking of visiting my mother. We have a monument for her here in London, at Highgate Cemetery. That’s where we usually go,” Max shared.

“Oh yeah, I saw the entire news about that. But wasn’t she brought back to France? I remember how big a deal that was.” Felix asked.

“That’s right. Her actual body is buried in Père Lachaise, back in Paris. The old man wanted her here, but my grandparents insisted on bringing her back since she grew up in France,” Max answered. “I don’t really want to go there, though, so I’ll just go to Highgate.”

Felix and Ervin went quiet. They sometimes forget that Max’s mother had passed, and that she was none other than Luna Lemieux—a woman who had the business world in the palm of her hand.

And the fact that Max was a spitting image of her made it feel stranger.

“Besides that, I have to sort out this homeboy thing with CJ. Hopefully, by tomorrow, he’s already conscious. If he’s as useful as he claims to be, then he’ll let me meet his father,” Max casually said, walking out of the room.

Felix and Ervin exchanged looks as they followed Max out.

They were still shaken by what happened at the Great Hall two days ago. A part of them convinced themselves that what Max did was the right thing, but another part of them thought that it was too much, even for someone like CJ. They felt like they needed to stop him, but it was already too late after what had already transpired.

“Max, we actually want to—”

“Sinclaire,” a voice cut in.

Max turned and found the Vice President standing behind them.

“I’d like a word,” Vice President Gavriil Alexeev said, expression flat. 

The two thought that Gavriil was going to suspend Max for what he did at the Great Hall, so they got ready to defend him. But before Felix and Ervin could make a move, Max nodded.

“Okay,” he answered, turning back to his friends. “I’ll meet you guys downstairs. This won’t take long.”

“What?” Felix started, but Ervin hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down the hall before he could protest.

Once alone, Max sighed and walked past Gavriil, heading back to their classroom, which was now empty. Gavriil said nothing and followed, locking the door behind him so no one could interrupt.

“So…” Max set his bag on the chair and leaned against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed. “How may I help you, Mr. Vice President?”

Gavriil didn’t answer. He stared at Max, watching his expression. When he held the silence for too long, he finally asked, “Why’d you think doing that to CJ was okay?”

“Why? Are you going to scold me?”

Gavriil stepped closer. “Why? Are you afraid that I would?”

Max swallowed and looked away. The reaction made the vice chuckle.

“I’m only asking,” he said as he stood in front of the dweller. “Why assume I’d scold you?”

“Are you playing mind games with me, Alexeev?” Max asked, visibly annoyed.

Gavriil, who knew exactly what he was doing, closed the distance between them. And without warning, he placed both of his hands on the desk, caging Max in.

“You don’t want me to play games with you, Sinclaire. Because believe me, you won’t be able to handle it when I make my first move,” Gavriil said, and Max instantly shoved him away.

“CJ deserved it,” Max then answered, anger cutting through. “After everything he’s done, to the homeboys he let suffer, he deserved to be beaten and humiliated in front of everyone.”

“And what gave you the right to decide that?” Gavriil shot back. “To decide what he does and doesn’t deserve?”

“If no one will do it, then I will. No one stands up to him because they’re scared, but I’m not,” Max said, but the lie flickered on his face. The moment the words slipped out, Max clenched his fist. He knew that Gavriil saw through him.

“Are you listening to yourself right now? After what you did, what do you think happens next?” Gavriil asked, but the question did not receive an answer as he expected.

“Do you think CJ would cower? That he’d bow to you and stop making deals with students? Or have it ever crossed your mind that what you did would only make him treat them worse?” Gavriil pressed on. “Is that what you wanted? You get your little revenge while others suffer the consequences of what you did?”

“He hurt me in front of my friends, did you know that?” Max finally revealed a secret he even kept from his brotherhoods.

But Gavriil didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t know about it, but his belief did not change. “So your solution was to give it back to him tenfold?”

“You don’t know what it was like,” Max argued, his voice getting louder.

“Stop giving me that bullshit,” Gavriil said, his expression more serious. “Just admit that the only reason you beat CJ up wasn’t because of revenge. You wanted people to see you’re still that powerful heir even without your inheritance, and that pride of yours almost cost someone his life.

Don’t hide behind justice. The moment you let his blood drip on the floors of this house, you only proved to everyone that you’re exactly like the monster you said you wouldn’t become.“

Max’s hand snapped across Gavriil’s cheek the moment he closed his mouth. 

The room fell silent. Gavriil gently touched where the hand had landed and slowly turned back to Max. He expected anger. Rage. But when he looked at him, Max’s eyes were only filled with tears and regret.

Gavriil sighed and pulled away, watching as Max brought his trembling hand close to his chest.

“I know what you feel,” Gavriil said, his voice softer. “I know what it’s like to lose something you’ve sacrificed your entire life for. But when I told you about CJ, this isn’t the outcome I was hoping for. I take full blame for how things ended.”

“W-What?” Max blinked, wiping the tear off his cheek as he looked at the vice president with surprise.

“The weight of it all had become a burden. I know what you’re planning. Using CJ as a way to get what you want is expected. But using him until he breaks will only make you a Viktor, and this house doesn’t need another king. You’re here to stop him, not become him.”

Max, who had finally calmed down, replied, “Last time you said this house doesn’t need another fool. Now it doesn’t need another king. What does it need at this point, because it seems that all the slots are full?”

“You want to know what it needs?” Gavriil pointed at the Elites’ brooch on his collar. “A president. J.S. High needs a new president. Not a hero, not a king, not a dictator, but a president who singlehandedly has the power to fix the system.”

“What’s wrong with President Ian?”

“Ian Rothman is practically perfect, but that’s exactly why he should be replaced,” Gavriil answered. But when he saw the confused look on Max’s face, he explained further, “We need someone flawed. Because only someone with flaws can fix a flawed system.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“Listen,” Gavriil said, tone dipping. “I didn’t intend to preach to you, but don’t act irrationally. Your protectors believe in your ideals. If you turn savage now, you’re no different from what you set out to change.”

Annoyance burned in Max because the words landed perfectly. They always did with Gavriil, almost like he knew where to pierce the dagger in a place that would hurt the most.

“Then how do I not lose myself?” Max snapped. “How the hell do I do this without losing my mind? How can I stop myself from becoming a monster like her?”

Gavriil’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t know how? Then answer me this…Why did you come to J.S. High? Why agree to help President Janus? Why lift this house’s flag at Mr. Brains & Brawn? Why fight Jokers’ customs? Why do all of that just to become what you’re changing? You could’ve looked away. You didn’t. Why?”

The questions repeated themselves in Max’s head. He heard them loud and clear, yet he had no answer. If he had been asked a few months ago, maybe he could have. But now, nothing was clear.

Was he really just ranking up to be on the same level as Viktor? Or has he been fooling himself all this time?

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Max asked, sounding as if he had given up. “These questions…everything you’ve said and done…why do you keep messing with my head? I’m so confused, Gav. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like all these responsibilities are finally catching up to me and I can’t—”

“What?” Gavriil said softly.

Max paused, unsure why the vice president looked surprised.

“What did you just call me?” he asked.

Max furrowed his brows. “I said…” he paused again and finally remembered the name that naturally slid out of his tongue. “G-Gav? Why would I call you Gav?”

Gavriil was equally surprised, but then, a smile slowly appeared on his face. And for the first time, J.S. High’s 2nd-highest-ranked white uniform looked like he was about to cry.

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore,” Gavriil muttered, removing his peaked cap and brushing his hair back to reveal his sharp eyes better. “This isn’t going to work. The more I see you, the greedier I’ve become. Vi’s right. If I keep running away, I’ll only end where I started.”

“W-What are you—”

Before Max could finish, Gavriil pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Max so he could tightly embrace him. The warmth was sudden yet electric. Max wanted to push him away, but his body refused to move. 

He wanted to be embraced. 

He wanted to be embraced by him.

Gav.

“I told you—if you take my hand and don’t let go, I’ll walk with you forever,” Gavriil said, voice rough. “But I let go first. I was a coward. I couldn’t face you. I didn’t know what I’d do if you remembered.”

Max’s chest ached despite not knowing what Gavriil meant.

“ Leigh,“ Gavriil then whispered, “ If I hold you close enough…if I stand by you as I did before…will it be a sin for you to remember me again? “

Max could hear Gavriil’s chest beating close to his ear, and with every beat, a clouded memory reveals itself to him. The rain. The people. A once blank face had now been drawn.

“You…you were at my mother’s funeral,” Max said, eyes wide. “H-How? Why would you be there?”

“How could I leave you on the day that hurt you the most?” Gavriil asked, pulling away from the hug. He looked down at Max’s face, which was filled with confusion. 

Gavriil was once advised to never say anything about Max’s past. The past he can’t seem to remember clearly. It was best for him. That’s what they believed. But Gavriil could no longer hide it. If not now, when?

“Leigh, I’ve known you since you were five,” Gavriil finally revealed, surprising Max.

“If you remember scraps of me, I remember all of you. You’re allergic to shellfish. Your favorite flower is blue daisies. You love Natsume Sōseki because you started reading his works when you were only nine. Your birthday is July 16. You’re left-handed.”

Max stared, speechless.

“During our first meeting, you threw a book at me because I snuck up on you. I was seven. You missed and hit your nanny instead, so your butler scolded you. You hated me after that,” Gavriil said, smiling faintly at the memory.

“Why were we meeting?” Max asked, trying to remember something he clearly had no memory of.

“Our parents arranged it,” Gavriil answered. “It was considered the most important meeting of our lives because it would determine the future of the business world.”

Before Max could say anything, Gavriil straightened, unbuttoned his coat, and lifted his shirt. Max was surprised, but then he spotted a fleur-de-lis on his rib, a symbol that was similar to the one he had on his arm.

It finally clicked.

“You’re…Crème de la crème,” Max breathed.

Gavriil nodded and dropped the hem of his shirt. “Our first dinner was with five of the newly announced top twelve heirs. The hot iron scars were fresh, almost like it was still burning our skin. We were so young, but we understood pain was the price of being the best of the best,” Gavriil said softly. “That shared pain made five of us close.”

Max was still dumbfounded by the situation. But when Gavriil’s last words sank in, he snapped his gaze back to the vice president, his eyes and mouth wide with shock.

Gavriil managed a pained smile. Relief flickered that Max finally understood, yet the memory they all shared was about to unravel, piece by piece, sooner than any of them expected.

“That’s right…” Gavriil said, stepping closer, tears now filling his eyes. “You, me, Cindy…” He paused to release a shaky breath. “Viktor…and our former Elites’ president. The five of us were childhood friends.”

|END|

79 | Acceptance

♞

IT FELT LIKE IT was only yesterday when Max was the student council president at Westberg Academy. He remembered his uncle Janus calling him in and asking him to enroll in J.S. High.

Crème de la Crème was the only word Janus had to show him to get a yes.

Max never thought of that elite group as significant. He was ranked first, but that was it. He didn’t realize that when his uncle slid those words across a sheet of paper, it would unravel his entire past.

It was right in front of him, and he was ignorant of it.

Why did he enroll in J.S. High? Why did he agree to help them?

Those questions lingered because Max had no answers. He simply went with the flow. He was given responsibilities, and he accepted them without a second thought. The chance to be a voice for people made him feel important. For a child raised in his family’s shadow, this was a chance to be known as simply Max.

But judgment clouded him. The weight grew. The responsibilities he carried for that single reason weren’t enough anymore. He needed more.

His world was crumbling. His inheritance had been stripped away. Part of him wanted to forget J.S. High, to let go of it because real life was starting to weigh him down more than the crowns he kept chasing. He didn’t want to make the House of Kings his problem anymore.

That was why, when he did what he did to CJ in the Great Hall, he didn’t hesitate. “ They won’t respect me anymore? Then let them fear me instead. It isn’t my job to stand up for them anyway. “ Those were the cruel words that looped in his head while he watched CJ bleed.

It was never about revenge or justice. The vice president hit the nail on the head. Max just didn’t care anymore because he had no reason left to. 

He was ready to let go of his brooches, but after his conversation with Gavriil, he realized he was wrong.

J.S High wasn’t there to make him feel important, needed, or special. It wasn’t a lifeline. J.S High was tied to him, and the people inside it were threads of his past that he never even considered were a possibility.

“ J.S. High is just a school I’m going to enroll in so I can prove my worth.“ That was the initial plan. Marcus once told him that it wouldn’t hurt to climb to the top for a deeper reason, but it still wasn’t enough. But after what Gavriil said about him, Cindy, Viktor, and another he still can’t seem to name, everything began to fall into place.

The reason why he felt so lost was because of his past—a past he can’t seem to remember anymore.

He thought it wasn’t important. Grown-ups forget about their childhood all the time. But with Max, his past was too important for him to have forgotten.

Now, to unravel his past, he had to change J.S High for the better. Becoming president meant he could finally reach Viktor, and Viktor was the only person who held the key to all his questions.

The realization felt strange.

It was almost as if someone wanted him to enroll in J.S. High so he could remember why he was there in the first place.

Looking at the bigger picture, it felt like an elaborate plan…a plan that was set by the man everyone called the previous Elites’ president.

“Leigh,” a voice called, and Max looked up to see his butler, Étienne, watching him in the car’s rearview mirror.

Max wore an all-black suit, and a bouquet of blue daisies rested on his lap. It was November 2—All Souls’ Day. The previous days had left him with more questions than answers, but despite it, he didn’t forget to pay his respect to his mother.

“Are you alright?” Étienne asked.

Max drew a breath and turned to the window. Gavriil’s revelation had taken his mind hostage. He was childhood friends with Gavriil, Viktor, Cindy, and the old president that Krist and Hans had mentioned to him before. 

It was absurd.

He couldn’t wrap it around his head.

How could he not remember such a thing? For all he knew, he was friends with Cindy, but he believed that it was nothing more than acquaintances who saw each other during business summits and seminars.

Still, it made sense. The small details he somehow knew about Gavriil, the comfort he felt around Viktor, and the easy closeness with Cindy. Only the president’s face and name were missing. Maybe seeing him in person would loosen the fog.

“N-Nothing…I’m fine. Just nervous,” Max lied. 

Étienne always knew when he lied, but he let it pass.

After a quiet drive, they arrived at Highgate Cemetery, where Luna’s monument was built. Étienne stepped out and opened Max’s door.

“Will you come with me?” Max asked.

“I’ll pay my respects afterward,” Étienne said with a bow. “You can speak to her first.”

Max nodded and went inside.

Luna’s memorial bore the name Luna Lemieux in gold. A large portrait was set at its center, framed by fresh flowers. Some were from her friends, a grand arrangement from her nephew Jean, and a bouquet of roses from her husband, Denzel.

Max didn’t react to the roses. He knelt, set down his daisies, and took a seat at the pews.

The silence was deafening. Max stared at his mother’s portrait and let the quiet consume him. 

After a while, he finally spoke.

“Good morning, Mother,” he said, staring directly into his mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I don’t visit often. I’m just…really busy.”

The space grew still. The woman in the portrait smiled sweetly. She was elegant and calm. To those who didn’t know her enough, she’d be seen as gentle. They’d never know the monster she could be.

“You must have heard,” Max whispered. “I—” The words broke before he could say more. Tears began to fill his eyes, but this time, he let them fall. “I’m sorry, mother. I failed. I…I failed you. I couldn’t hold onto your company. I’m so sorry.”

No answer. Only the suffocating quiet.

He wanted to weep, but the last weeks hardened his jaw. He had to be strong. Stronger, if he wanted to protect what he loved.

“Pathetic, right?” he said with a chuckle. “Crying over something that hasn’t been set in stone yet. If you were here, you would have scolded me. After all, it’s because of you that I grew up to be so tough.”

Silence.

“I tried, Mom. I really did. And I’m still trying. I’ve lost my way a bit, but I’m back on track,” he continued, his own words comforting him more than they should.

He hadn’t failed her yet. There was still a chance, so he wiped his cheeks and said, “So don’t worry. I’ll take it back. I’ll do everything to take it back. I have people who—no…friends. I have friends who believe in me, so I will definitely make things right.”

Max was saying those words to Luna, but deep down, he was saying it to himself as well. And when he finally said them out loud, he gave out a small smile.

He sat on the pew and lingered with her presence. Ten minutes slipped by before he spoke again. “This might sound ridiculous, but I can’t believe I had childhood friends. Why didn’t you tell me? Why can’t I remember? Did something happen to me?”

More silence.

“It’s unfortunate, though, because we aren’t close anymore. Which could be the reason why I don’t remember them,” he said with a crooked smile. “One turned mad and calls me a white uniform. One’s so famous I can’t meet her without sparking a dating scandal. And the third…I can’t even remember his name or face.”

His gaze softened.

“But there’s one boy trying hard to make it work again. He was cold before, but he’s warming up to me. He annoys me most of the time, and maybe it’s because I can’t remember him clearly except for his warmth. His comfort. His scent. The small details that make him…him.”

No one was still answering him, but the silence had become comforting. 

Opening up had become easier. He told Luna about his new friends, new allies, his protectors, and the small victories he’d stitched together. When he finally stood, thirty minutes had vanished.

“Mother,” he said one last time.

“I’ve always been afraid of you; afraid I’d become you—the monster they say you were.” His hand went to his chest, where a necklace should have hung. “But you only became one for me, right? You turned into a monster in order to protect me.”

A breeze slipped through the open window, and Max closed his eyes, feeling his mother’s presence, almost like she was hugging him.

“I’ve been unsure for so long, but I’m ready now,” he declared, opening his eyes again. “I will take the Lemieux name. I’ll take it all and make sure they know why our family is the strongest. This time…it’s my turn to protect you. I promise.”

…

Max walked down the steps. Étienne waited with the car door open. “You can go in now,” the young master said softly. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you, Master,” Étienne said, bowing before disappearing inside.

While waiting, he pulled out his phone to check the messages. The first to pop up on his screen was a message from his cousin, Jean, asking him to call him ASAP.

Max had no idea what the CEO of Sinclaire Corp. wanted from him, but he dialed his number anyway. One ring, and the call was answered in an instant.

“Max, finally. How are you holding up?”

“Better than I expected, actually. Especially after the announcement I made for the press.”

“Good,” Jean said. “Because I’ve got news.”

“What kind of news?”

“Remember the conversation we had last time, about the hidden stocks? Well, Mills Tobacco Company is hosting its 125th-anniversary party at one of our hotels on Saturday. The whole Mills family will be there, plus close friends and partners. It’s the perfect time to meet Mr. Christopher Mills .”

Max couldn’t suppress the small grin. “So, does that mean you got me an invite?”

“That’s the bad news,” Jean said. “The Sinclaire family is invited, but the invitation’s addressed to your father. Two family members only. Chairman Denzel cleared his calendar, so he’s attending. As for his plus one…I have a hunch it won’t be you.”

Max watched the monument through the car window and exhaled. “He won’t bring Edith. She’s not a Sinclaire yet, and he isn’t foolish enough to present her at an event like that. He’ll definitely bring Marcus. It’s the perfect time to introduce the ‘new’ heir.”

“You think Marcus will go?” Jean asked.

Max smiled at the name Lemieux on his mother’s monument. “He has to. Who else would represent the Sinclaire family if not him?”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it better if you go?” Jean sounded puzzled. He tought Max would use the opportunity to talk to Marcus so he could use the invite on his behalf, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case at all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get in myself. I know Mr. Christopher’s son, and lucky for us, he can’t say no to me right now,” Max confidently answered.

Jean let out a low whistle. “Of course. But in that case, I can send you a master list of expected families who would attend. I saw a few names you might recognize.”

“Sure, send it. Could be useful.” Out the window, Max spotted Étienne walking out of the monument. “Thanks for the heads-up, Jean, but we’ve got to go. Send the list when you can.”

“I’m a CEO of a luxury hotel and casino, yet I’m still taking orders from a seventeen-year-old,” Jean complained.

“I’m supposed to be its heir, but look at us now,” Max said, and Jean laughed before the call ended.

Max hid his phone back as Étienne got into the car. He put his seatbelt on and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Where to, Master?” he asked.

“Do you happen to know where Mills Tobacco Company is?”

Étienne—the perfect butler that he was—didn’t answer. Instead, he released the handbrake and pulled away.

As the city slid by, Étienne glanced at Max in the mirror and said, “You have not mentioned your plans to me clearly, but I have a rough idea of what you’re planning to do, and I believe it’s going to be dangerous.”

“I’m not going to be reckless,” Max answered, arms crossing as trees blurred past. “I’ve had setbacks, but the plan is thorough. I won’t back down.”

Étienne considered his words. “I won’t stop you. You know I have always stayed by your side, even when we hunted your mother’s killer. Dangerous or not, I will always follow you.”

Max breathed in and offered a small smile. “You’ve always been protective, just like Marcus.”

“Of course. It is my duty,” Étienne replied without hesitation.

“Duty,” Max repeated with a laugh. “That’s right. The moment you were born, you’ve already been assigned to serve the Lemiuex Family. You’ve been with us before I was even born. Probably why you know more about my past than I do.”

Étienne’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What are you implying?”

“How do you define duty, Étienne? Loyalty? Honor? Sacrifice?” Max asked, voice firm. “You know that I trust you more than anyone. But there are only a few things I can tolerate, and hiding things from me would cost you more than your duty. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Étienne swallowed, then nodded once. “I understand, Master Leigh.”

“Do you really?”

“Name it, and it will be yours. I exist to fulfill your wishes with no questions asked, master,” Étienne said, his expression serious.

Max loosened his tie and exhaled. “Alright then. Everything I don’t remember. Recover it. Files, pictures, anything that leads back to what happened before. I want you to find them.”

He met Étienne’s eyes in the mirror.

“All of them.”

|END|

80 | CJ’s Secret

♞

ÉTIENNE PARKED IN FRONT of a thirty-storey building that had a familiar logo just by the entrance. The logo was a staple for smokers. If someone couldn’t recognize it, they’d be deemed too young.

“I’ll head out here first. I’ll call you after I’m done,” Max said, and Étienne nodded and went to open the door for him.

As soon as Max stepped out of the car, the people walking by could not help but look his way. They must have recognized him as the student who won Mr. Brains & Brawn, or maybe from the news of his stolen inheritance. Either way, Max was no doubt a show-stopper.

“For a company that has a huge influence on hidden stocks, their building is quite eye-catching,” Max commented as he made his way inside.

Despite it being a holiday, the building was packed. Employees recognized Max the moment he stepped inside. If Max hadn’t come from a powerful family, they would have taken out their phones to steal a photo.

After all, a candid photo of a Sinclaire could fetch a lot of cash.

With a serious expression, Max made his way to the front desk. Everyone else continued to stare while the receptionist was busy with a call. He waited for her to finish, and once the call ended, she looked up and flinched at the sight of Max.

“Sir Maximilian,” she greeted, instantly recognizing him. “How may I assist you? Did you have an appointment? I apologize if no one was here to welcome you when you—”

“No, I came unannounced,” he cut it, leaning closer to the counter. “I’m looking for Charles Justin Mills. Is he here?”

“Sir Charles? Were you supposed to meet him…here?” the receptionist asked, brows furrowed.

Max caught the confusion, but he let it go.

“No, actually, but I’m…” he paused and adjusted his necktie. “I’m a friend. I was hoping to discuss something urgent with him. Do you think you can make that possible for me?”

The receptionist grew flustered, but she immediately composed herself again. “I apologize, sir, but I can’t help you with that. If you want, I can contact his secretary for you so you can arrange a—”

“Sinclaire?” a voice suddenly called out, immediately making the receptionist and the other employees stop what they were doing to respectfully greet him.

Max thought it would be CJ, but was surprised to see a completely different person instead. Though unexpected, the face was familiar.

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t the famous Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” a tall, built man said with a charming smile. He wore a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms.

Max eyed him from head to toe.

“CEO Jacob Mills ,” he said as he watched Jacob approach, his secretary and six bodyguards following behind him.

“I wasn’t expecting to see such a powerful heir here,” he said, stopping in front of Max. He then chuckled at himself after remembering something. “Oh, wait, you’re not an heir anymore. My apologies. Do you have a different title now? Though I doubt it would be as catchy as that one.”

Max gritted his teeth.

This man was no doubt CJ’s brother.

“It doesn’t matter. Titles are mere titles,” Max replied, earning a grin from the intimidating CEO.

“But titles make you an heir. Without it, you’re just like every sucker out there who believes that hard work can get you anywhere.”

“Doesn’t it?” Max asked, and Jacob shrugged.

“Who knows. I’ve never worked a day in my life, yet here I am,” he playfully said before looking straight into Max’s eyes. “But don’t worry, that wasn’t meant to offend you.”

“I wasn’t offended,”

“I’m sure. With someone of your caliber, words aren’t enough to irk you. In fact, I look highly at those who challenge their own families to get what they want. That takes guts.”

“Oh, believe me, if you had mine, it wouldn’t be that hard,” Max answered, and this time, Jacob laughed.

His voice echoed in the lobby, but no one dared to stare at him for too long. He was definitely not the playful CEO he portrays himself to be.

“I like you, Maximilian, and I’d honestly love to talk with you more, but it seems like you’re looking for my brother,” Jacob said, composing himself after the outburst. “Unfortunately, you won’t find him here. But if you came for business, I can entertain you on his behalf.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have an hour before my meeting with foreign investors. I can make the time.”

Max was tempted to take the offer, but he shook his head. “I’m thankful you’d go to such an extent, but there’s something important I want to discuss with your brother. Do you perhaps know what time he’ll be here?”

Jacob stared at Max, expecting a punchline. But when there was nothing, he once again burst out in laughter. It wasn’t even a polite laugh. It was practically hysterical.

Max was dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry, but are you mocking me?”

Jacob wiped the tears and looked at his secretary, who seemed to be holding his own laughter. “No, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just that…the idea of that bastard being here is way too funny. I’d actually pay to see that. Seriously.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s not here,” the CEO answered. “There is no way in hell you’ll find him here.”

“I-I’m…I’m not catching on.”

“Charles is banned from setting foot on the pavement outside this building, let alone inside. If he did…” Jacob paused, expression once again serious. “He’d be shot dead.”

“What?” Max staggered back, speechless.

Jacob smirked at the reaction but refused to explain further. “The bitch is running his own company. I’ll spare you the boring details and let him tell you himself. I bet he’ll be delighted to entice you with how his wonderful venture has been going,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

Jacob then snapped his fingers, and his secretary stood beside him with a notebook and pen.

“I’ll give you the address of his company,” he said, and the secretary wrote it down before handing the paper to Max.

“Thank you,” Max said, reading the address. 

“My brother can be…difficult, but he’s tough, and that’s at least something,” Jacob said before pulling out a business card from his pocket so he could give it to Max. “But if you want to talk to someone more mature, just give me a call. I’d gladly entertain a Sinclaire.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Jacob grinned and looked back at his bodyguards so they could leave. But before he could take a step, he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, I forgot. It’s All Souls’ Day today, isn’t it? Then head to Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park first. He might still be there.”

Max bowed his head as a form of thanks as Jacob and his men finally took their leave. Once they were gone, he pulled out his phone and called his butler, “Hello? Étienne? Change of plans. We’re heading to a cemetery.”

…

“Is there someone you want to visit, Master Leigh?” Étienne asked as he drove them to the cemetery Max had mentioned earlier.

“Yes, but it’s not what you might think,” Max answered.

Étienne didn’t question it and continued driving.

Max, on the other hand, stared out the window and began contemplating what CJ’s brother had said to him earlier.

CJ couldn’t go to their company without the risk of getting killed. It was a shocking reveal, but what surprised Max the most was the fact that he was running his own business, and no one seemed to know about it.

If Hans and the others knew, they would have mentioned it to him. They had already told him that CJ wasn’t on good terms with his family, but Max had not expected it to be this bad.

“We’re here, Master.”

Max looked out the window and spotted a handful of people walking with flowers in hand. He searched the vast cemetery for someone familiar, but the area was too big for the task to be possible.

“Would you like me to help you, Master?” Étienne asked, but Max only shushed him in response.

The butler continued to drive around the cemetery, but when minutes passed and Max still couldn’t find CJ, he sighed in defeat.

“He probably left,” Max said, slumping in his seat and crossing his arms. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have stayed here for too long.”

Étienne looked back at his master through the rearview mirror, checking if it was okay to speak. When the coast was clear, he finally asked, “Should we head to the other address you were given, then?”

Max nodded, and Étienne said nothing as he made his way to the exit.

While they were leaving, Max rested his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin on his palm. He stared at the graves, some overgrown with flowers, while others were recently cleaned. But as he was letting the burials pass, he spotted someone standing in front of a mausoleum, holding a bouquet of roses in his left hand while his right arm was supported by a sling.

“There!” Max suddenly shouted, making Étienne stop the car abruptly.

“L-Leigh, you can’t just—” Étienne began, but before he could finish, Max opened the door and ran out of the car.

Max ran as fast as he could, stumbling. As he got closer, he caught a glimpse of the man he suspected was the Cigarettes’ leader. Max had expected him to look teary, but the man’s eyes were cold and empty.

When Max saw him, he backed away and stood at a safe distance. CJ appeared in deep thought, and Max did not want to disrespect him or the dead, so he waited behind him until he was finished.

The silence was deafening. The wind whistled. There were overgrown bushes and weeds, dead leaves on the ground, and the mausoleum itself looked abandoned. Max couldn’t guess who the deceased was or why CJ was visiting them.

After ten minutes or so, CJ walked closer to the mausoleum’s rusted gate and slowly knelt, gently placing the bouquet at the entrance. He paused for a moment before turning around, and as soon as he saw Max standing in front of him, his blank expression changed to anger.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped.

Max stared, noticing the bruises on his face, the black eye that barely healed itself, and the broken arm that was wrapped in a cast. Guilt came rushing back to him like a wave. 

What had he done to this man? 

The question felt like a dagger piercing through his chest. Gavriil was right. This wasn’t caused by someone who simply wanted justice.

“What are you doing here?” CJ repeated, his voice louder.

Max blinked. “I was looking for you.”

“Are you fucking with me? This isn’t J.S. High. You don’t just look for someone outside the grounds of our house, especially when they’re in a cemetery,” CJ told him, and this was the first time Max had seen him look really pissed.

“My apologies,” Max said, taking a deep breath and pulling his hands out of his pockets. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. Let’s talk somewhere else.”

CJ looked as if he did not want to entertain Max, but he glanced back at the mausoleum and then at Max with an annoyed expression.

“Follow me,” he said, not waiting for Max as he started walking away.

Max looked back and saw Étienne waiting in the car, so he waved to him, signaling for him to follow. Max ran beside CJ, who looked restless and tired.

As Max walked beside the Cigarettes’ leader, he glanced at CJ and drew a breath. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. CJ was surprised, but he kept his expression neutral, waiting for Max to continue. 

“At the time, my judgment was clouded by anger. I used you to vent out. I knew you wouldn’t believe me, but this isn’t how I wanted things to happen. I disappointed myself, the brotherhoods who trusted in me, and even—”

“Why are you explaining yourself?” CJ cut in, making Max stop talking.

“Everything that happens in J.S. High stays in J.S. High. As difficult as it may be to comprehend, what you were and what you became inside the school does not define who you are outside,” CJ explained, and Max couldn’t believe this was the same man who had once looked at him dead in the eyes with a grin while his own brotherhood beat him up.

“Does that apply to you as well?” Max asked.

“It applies to everyone,” CJ said.

As Max tried his best not to die from guilt and awkwardness, the two arrived at a car parked by the pavement. A man immediately stepped out wearing a driver’s uniform and opened the back door for CJ. CJ entered first, and although Max was hesitant, he followed him inside.

The driver closed the door and waited outside, giving the two of them their much-needed privacy.

Max took a deep breath and glanced in the side mirror to check if his butler was behind them. When he confirmed that Étienne was, he turned back to CJ and finally asked, “Who were you visiting?”

“A woman who took care of me when I was a child,” CJ answered, looking out of the window. “She’s someone I respect, but I could only visit her once a year. If her family sees me there, they’d be furious. I’m a Mills, after all.”

Max was surprised that CJ answered with no restraint. It seemed Krist and the others had been right. CJ’s truth wasn’t his weakness. He wasn’t afraid to tell people about himself because it didn’t make him vulnerable.

“What does that have anything to do with you being a Mills?” Max asked, hoping to dive deeper into CJ’s past to understand him better.

CJ said nothing and pulled out a cigarette pack. He was about to take a stick, but stopped and put it back in his pocket instead.

“I’m a Mills, and being a Mills is a curse I’ve been trying to break ever since she was killed,” he answered, and the car fell into silence.

The words held weight, but Max no longer pressed on. This wasn’t the time or place to be talking about such personal things. There was definitely a next time for that.

“I’m sure you know that I didn’t follow you here to ask about your life’s history, so I’ll cut to the chase,” Max began, and CJ turned his head to look at him. “Your family is holding a party on Saturday in one of our hotels.”

“So I’ve heard,” CJ said. “Were you not invited? Because the feeling is mutual.”

“No. The Sinclaire family was invited, but I’m sure you’re aware of my standing right now. I want to get in, and I need you to get me an invite,” Max told him, and CJ’s usual personality showed as he chuckled and looked at Max like he was an idiot.

CJ adjusted in his seat. “As I already mentioned, I’m not invited to that party, so what makes you think I can give you an invitation?”

Max grinned and suddenly leaned close to CJ, touching the spot on his neck where a dog collar would have sat.

“Today’s your last day of being my homeboy. It’s unfair that I don’t get to enjoy the benefits of it since we didn’t have classes for two days, so at least let all this be worth it,” he said, and the grin on CJ’s face grew. This was the Max that he saw at the Great Hall. Not the one who was apologizing to him just a few moments ago.

“You sly little fox.”

“Get me an invite. I don’t care how you do it, but I need to get to that party no matter what.” 

CJ scoffed and looked out the window again. He remained silent for at least a minute, as if thinking over Max’s nearly impossible request. After arguing with himself, he looked back.

“Even though I could give you an invite, it might be difficult since your family has already been given the invitation. Only two members of a family are allowed to attend. The Sinclaire family name can’t be doubled on the master’s list.”

When Max heard that, he laughed.

“Who told you you’re going to give the Sinclaire family another invitation anyway?” Max asked, making CJ frown.

“What do you mean?”

Max reached out to the invisible necklace and looked straight into CJ’s eyes with the same fire and determination he had before.

“I want you to get an invite… for the Lemieux family.”

|END|

81 | Perfectly Flawed System

♞

MAX STARED AT THE master list that Jean had sent him last night. There were a couple of families Max was familiar with, while a few of them were people he was very close to. Having people he knew at the party might help him get in touch with Chairman Christopher Mills better.

“Looks like Cindy’s coming to the party too,” Max said, looking at Marcus, who was sitting beside him, reading the newspaper.

“Of course she’s going. She’s ranked second in Crème de la Crème. And the Lin family is one of the richest families in the world. The Mills will definitely need them there,” Marcus, in his black uniform, said.

“The Campbell family is invited too. I’ll have to ask Felix about it,” Max said, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. “And then we have the de Vries family and the Monsour family. Do you think Red and Hans will be coming?” 

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll ask them. Though I’m already certain both of them will attend, considering how they’re both the heirs of their families.”

“How about you? Are you going to come?” Max then asked.

Marcus sighed and put the newspaper down.

“Father’s secretary called me about it. I haven’t really been attending the meetings and business classes like he wants me to, so he’s furious. He said if I don’t attend the party with him, he won’t be as lenient anymore,” Marcus explained, and Max couldn’t help but laugh.

“How rare of him to actually make a threat. He usually just does it,” Max said, putting his phone down.

“You know, I haven’t really said anything about this, but I’m not stupid. I’m aware that Father has his reasons for renouncing my inheritance.”

The statement made Étienne and Marcus glance at each other through the rearview mirror, but neither dared to say anything yet.

“I know he has his reasons. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I believe it’s not simply because he despises me. His marriage to Edith could even be an excuse,” Max said, remembering the time when his father bowed to him and apologized at the clinic.

Marcus stared at his brother, wondering if he should comfort him. But Max looked calmer now. It was as if he had finally found his reason to keep moving forward despite everything that had happened.

“So do you still hate him for it?” Marcus asked.

Max took a deep breath and pulled something from under his shirt. To Marcus and Étienne’s surprise, it was a necklace—the Lemieux family necklace.

“Max, why are you—”

“I know the old man believes that he’s doing this for my own good, but I still hate him. And that hatred isn’t because he renounced my inheritance,” Max said, staring at the L pendant on the necklace he was finally wearing.

“I hate him…for not trusting me enough,” he revealed, and Marcus’s expression softened.

“I am the heir of the company built by generations of Lemieux. That lineage will not end because my incompetent father does not believe that I could handle whatever it is he’s so worried about,” Max declared.

Marcus and Étienne smiled at him, pride beaming. This was the Max they remembered. 

“Looks like my little brother is finally back,” Marcus said, reaching out to pat his head like he always did. “Do what you do best, Max. I know that whatever happens, you’ll always do the right thing.”

Max smiled back before pushing Marcus’s hand away.

As the two brothers were goofing around, Étienne felt relieved. After everything that had happened in the past month, Max finally found his resolve. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that he wasn’t alone anymore.

He had them, his protectors, and Gavriil.

And that was enough.

“We’re here, Master,” Étienne said as he drove past the overly large gates of J.S. High.

Just like before, Étienne dropped Max off at the Keep first.

“I’ll see you at the Great Hall later,” Max said, looking back at his brother.

Marcus smiled and nodded, and Max stepped out of the car. Étienne then bowed to his master before closing the door.

“Enjoy your day, Master Leigh.”

Max gave a single nod and ascended the steps of the Keep. White uniforms stared, while some avoided him completely. They had once made fun of him after he was stripped of his inheritance, but after what happened to CJ at the Great Hall, no one dared say anything anymore.

The students feared him.

This was what Max wanted when he first arrived in J.S. High, but somehow, the feeling wasn’t as rewarding as he had imagined. In fact, he hated it. Fear was not what he wanted from them.

CJ was an asshole. He made more enemies than allies, and others would agree that getting him beaten up was spare change compared to the price he made everyone else pay. But beating him up in front of the student body until he lost consciousness? On the surface level, it was only fair. But looking back…

Nothing about it was right. He turned into a gaffer he despised. Everything he had done for the House of Kings now looked like hollow performances.

Gavriil had been right when he scolded him. Jokers and BND followed Max because he was not like Viktor. He wanted to raise his rank in a way that would make the students respect him, but his recent decisions only made them fear him.

Fear was Viktor’s thing. It was the reason why he told Max to never act on something when he’s angry. The king knew exactly what the outcome would be.

Now the milk had been spilled. Max was basically back to square one.

“Sinclaire,” someone called out as Max walked down the corridor toward the Hall of Caelus.

Max stopped and turned, surprised to see who was waiting for him.

“President Ian,” he said, and Ian Rothman took a step forward, putting on the same smile he gave whenever he was on stage.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a chat with you, Maximilian.”

“Yeah,” Max awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his head while Ian continued to smile at him. He didn’t know what to say. After what happened with CJ, Max expected a scolding.

“Would you like to humor me for a bit?” the president then asked.

“O-Of course.”

Ian gestured down the hallway, and the two of them started walking. Ian fell in beside him, his hands clasped behind his back like some kind of prince.

“I’ve heard what happened to you. As an heir myself, I understand how heavy it must have been for your birthright to be taken away from you so easily after what you’ve already sacrificed,” Ian told him.

Max said nothing. He kept glancing at Ian, feeling nervous. He didn’t fear him, though. Ian’s presence made him feel like anyone could reach him, yet the way he carried himself said otherwise.

For a moment, Max couldn’t understand why Gavriil said he needed to be replaced. 

Ian was the embodiment of a president. He was respected by the white uniforms and feared by the brotherhoods. He had the perfect balance to lead the school, but why? What was he missing?

“But I’m sure you’re tired of that by now, so I’ll spare you the preaching. I actually have something else to say to you,” Ian said, and in the back of Max’s mind, the scene with CJ at the Great Hall flashed.

“I heard about what happened at the Great Hall…” Ian said at last, and Max let out a sigh. If he got in trouble for what he did, it would definitely be a problem.

President Ian, walking with his chin held high, did not look back as he spoke. “The brotherhoods are the pillars of all the Houses, especially in the House of Kings. J.S. High stands firm because of them, and students’ fear and respect make our school stronger. When a white uniform oversteps that boundary, the pillars collapse, and the system breaks.”

Max gripped the strap of his bag. These were not the exact words, but Viktor had warned him about this before, too, when Max conquered Jokers. He warned him that if he ever became a hindrance to their system, they would step in.

“Am I going to get in trouble?” Max asked. The child-like tone made Ian chuckle.

“No,” the president answered. “I don’t have the right to do anything to a white uniform. If you were to get in trouble, you should worry about the vice president, not me. Besides, Cigarettes became your homeboy, so you technically didn’t do anything wrong. Loopholes of our rules, after all,” Ian said, stopping.

Max looked ahead and realized he was in front of his classroom.

President Ian turned to face him, set a hand on Max’s left shoulder, and said, “I am the president of the Elites, and I make sure everything is in order. If I see just one scratch in the system I help polish, well…” Ian paused, and for a heartbeat, Max saw a president none of the white uniforms had seen before—the president the brotherhoods greatly feared.

Ian’s grip tightened, then he let go, smiling as if nothing had happened.

“I respect you, Maximilian, more than you know. I know your capabilities, and I know you’ll climb faster than anyone in this house. But I hope you understand what I’m trying to tell you,” Ian said.

Max gulped and nodded.

“Good.”

Ian smiled again, and as he was about to leave, he remembered something. “By the way, regarding your club…I already sent letters to different seniors who might want to handle the Omega Society, but I haven’t gotten a response yet. Dustin also told me about your request for a room change. I’ve arranged for a better room. Just talk to your club leader about it.”

“Oh, thank you,” Max said, and Ian patted his shoulder, finally taking his leave.

As soon as he was gone, Max released a loud sigh. He turned and opened the door, revealing Ari with his ear pressed to it, Felix behind him with an annoyed expression, and Ervin sitting on a table, reading messages on his phone.

“Max!” Ari yelped, jumping away from the door.

“What were you doing?” Max asked, brow furrowed.

Ari laughed awkwardly and was about to answer when Felix cut in. “He was eavesdropping.”

Ari shot Felix a glare while Ervin laughed. Thankfully, Max laughed it off and went to his seat, his friends trailing after him.

“So, what did President Ian say? Are you in trouble? Did something happen?” Ari asked, scooting close in case Max spoke too softly.

Ervin tugged Ari back to give Max space as he sat on his chair. Ari took the seat beside him, while Ervin and Felix stood nearby.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not in trouble. The president just told me about Omega Society and how we finally have a new room,” Max said, which wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Wait, really? That’s great then!” Felix cheered with pure innocence, almost making Ari and Ervin roll their eyes at their two-faced little friend.

“Also, Felix, I wanted to talk to you about something else,” Max said, looking at him. “The Mills family is having a party tomorrow for their company’s anniversary. I heard your family was invited.”

“Oh, that’s right. How did you know? Are the Sinclaires invited too?” Felix asked, then shook his head and chuckled. “Wait, what am I saying? Of course your family’s invited. It would be a social scandal if you weren’t. After all, the venue will be at one of your hotels.”

“Max is invited too?” Ari wondered, looking confused. “But aren’t you like…not the heir to that family anymore?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ervin stepped on his foot to scold him. Ari was about to snap, then stopped as he realized what he’d said. He cleared his throat and apologized, but Max only laughed in response.

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Max assured him. “It’s true anyway. I’m not the heir of the Sinclaire family anymore. It’s not something I should hide, considering I made an official public statement about it.”

Ari and the others glanced at each other before looking back at Max. The air around him was different, which was a good thing. A few days ago, Max felt distant, almost as if there was a dark aura surrounding him. But now, he felt lighter.

“Max, I’ve been feeling guilty about this for a while,” Ari said, scooting closer. “You were in a slump, but we didn’t really do much for you. When I saw what you did to CJ at the Great Hall, I realized we’ve been really bad friends. We should have stopped you instead of just watching.”

Felix and Ervin were surprised Ari managed to say it, because honestly, they felt the same. They knew Max was changing for the worse, but they had not done anything. Ignoring it made them feel guilty.

“We’d ask if you were okay, and you’d say you were. We knew you were lying, but despite that, we didn’t do anything and just kept quiet,” Ervin added.

“We made you feel like we’re some kind of accessory. You didn’t trust us enough to tell us your worries, and maybe that’s because we never made you feel like you could open up to us. We’re sorry, Max. Really,” Felix said, sincerely.

Max stared at the three of them, unable to respond.

If you ruled out his supposed friendship with Gavriil and the others in the past, Max never had real friends before. Others had gotten close, but never close enough.

He was usually alone, and he was okay with it. For a time.

“You guys are seriously—” Max paused, looking at Ari, Felix, and Ervin with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Really… thank you. I mean it.”

Ari chuckled and draped an arm around Max’s shoulders, while Ervin moved closer to pat his head. But as the three friends shared the warm moment, their classmates suddenly fell silent.

Max thought their homeroom teacher, Sir Barron, had arrived, but to his surprise, it was a member of the Ashes.

Ari shot to his feet as the underling entered the room and walked toward Max. The Ash wore a leather mask covering his mouth, making it hard to identify him. Unlike the time they were tricked by the fake Ashes, Ari knew this man was the real deal, especially since he wore a special Cigarettes brooch exclusive to the four Ashes.

Ervin, a fearsome underling himself, stepped in front of Max as the Ash got closer. “Take a step closer, and I’ll break your hand.”

The Ash said nothing. Class II-A watched him with caution. None of them knew what to expect.

“What are you doing here?” Max finally asked.

The room fell into silence, and then…

…he bowed.

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, Maximilian Sinclaire, but our boss is requesting Max’s presence at the Smoking Room,” the Ash explained, surprising everyone.

Max was about to answer, but Ari kept blocking him. “There is no way in hell we’re letting Max come with you.”

“That’s right!” Felix added.

Max chuckled, stood, and told his friends, “It’s fine. I actually have something important to tell CJ, too.”

“What?” Ari asked, frowning.

Max gave them a reassuring look. Ari wanted to protest, but instead, he turned to the Ash and said, “If you do anything stupid…” He pointed at the Rose brooch on his collar. “I’ll be forced to put you back in your place. Remember that.”

The underling didn’t reply, but he nodded to acknowledge the warning. When there was no more hostility, he headed out, and Max glanced back at his friends before following.

Max walked beside the white uniform in silence. He glanced at him and caught a glimpse of his golden armband with the Roman numeral III engraved on it.

“Is your boss in a good mood today?” Max asked. He still wasn’t on good terms with CJ, and as Max had witnessed, CJ’s personality was calmer outside J.S. High. Facing the Cigarettes’ leader version still made him nervous despite everything.

CJ might carry out revenge now, especially since he was no longer Max’s homeboy.

“The boss is always in a good mood,” the Ash answered, and Max almost laughed.

“What could possibly make his mood bad then?” Max asked next, taking the chance while the Ash was answering.

The Ash said nothing for several seconds, then looked at Max. “Nothing.”

Max was about to pry further, but they finally arrived at their destination.

Before them stood a metal door with a no-smoking sign. The Ash opened it first. Inside was a stairwell leading down. As Payton had said, Cigarettes’ base was in the basement, which is the reason why Max had never heard of it before.

Max followed as they descended. The way down was dark, lit only by red neon along the ceiling.

After a few more steps, they reached the bottom. Max had expected something like a torture room, but Cigarettes’ base looked like a club. The room was cold and smelled sweet. Blue and green neon lights glowed everywhere. There were sofas, a billiards table, a soda machine, and a red door in the middle. 

He couldn’t believe something like this was under their school.

“Look who’s here,” a Cigarettes member said with a wide smile.

Two Counts smoked on the sofas, while the rest played billiards and cards. It did not look like a brotherhood base at all.

“How did they turn it into something like this?” Max thought as one of the members approached the Ash who had brought him.

“Thanks for bringing us the package. You can go,” he said. The Ash bowed and left.

Alone with the counts, Max felt uncomfortable. CJ was terrifying, but having them all here felt different. Unlike his first meeting with Jokers—who felt more like school friends—Cigarettes looked like the kind of school gang you’d want to avoid.

“The name’s Anthony Rockefeller,” the black uniform introduced, standing before Max with his hands in his pockets. “It’s rare for us to invite someone over, so I hope your stay becomes a pleasant experience.”

Max couldn’t meet Anthony’s eyes, especially since Anthony had been the one to beat CJ up when Max asked them to do so.

“Thank you,” Max managed to say, clearing his throat to cut the awkwardness.

“The boss is inside, past the red door,” another member said from the sofa as smoke escaped his mouth.

Max didn’t know if it was okay to move with everyone staring like they were ready to attack. But to avoid the awkward atmosphere, he decided to just head to the red door and get on with it. 

Before he entered, he gripped the knob and looked back at the counts.

“By the way…”

Anthony and the others turned to him, curious.

With a smirk, Max told them, “You guys looked better with the dog collar.”

The counts were taken off guard, but then Anthony started laughing, and eventually, the others joined in. 

When the laughter died down, Anthony licked his lips, exposing the piercing on his tongue. “Then let’s play again next time… Master.”

|END|

82 | Getting An Invite

♞

MAX WAS WELCOMED BY  another sofa and a center table littered with cigarette butts, a large bottle of alcohol, and the cigarette holder and lighter he knew too well. The room looked like those creepy basements you saw in kidnapping movies, exactly what he expected Cigarettes’ base to look like.

Max thought the room was empty, but then he heard a grunt. He turned and, to his surprise, saw a white uniform strapped against the wall, his face almost unrecognizable as blood oozed from his nose and mouth.

Max covered his mouth and stumbled back. He wanted to run, but his body would not move. Before he could process the scene, someone chuckled behind him.

“Surprised? I thought you liked these things,” a voice said.

Max turned and saw CJ walking toward him with a sadistic grin.

CJ held a bat smeared with blood. His gloves were stained, and flecks dotted his face.

“I…who…what did you do?” Max managed, making CJ laugh.

CJ walked to the sofa and sat. Staring at Max, he bit the finger of his leather glove and tugged it off with his teeth so he could peel off the other with his clean hand. He drew a black silk handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping down the bat.

“Don’t act so disgusted. You did that to me too, remember?” CJ said, and guilt washed over Max again. He was reminded that they were back at J.S. High, and CJ was not the same man he had spoken to outside.

“You know, you really got me fooled. I thought you planned the battle with Jokers and BND because you knew I’d end up making a deal with you. But then I realized you didn’t plan it at all. You’re good at making plans, so one mistake was enough for me to realize that the entire thing was bullshit,” CJ said as he polished the blood from the bat.

“You know what the mistake was?” he asked next.

Before Max could form an answer, CJ covered his own face with his hand, making Max frown.

When it was clear Max was not catching on, especially since he hadn’t even watched the battle, CJ grinned and said, “Masks. Jokers never battle without their clown masks. If I’d realized sooner, I wouldn’t have accepted that battle. You made a fool of me, and I don’t like that.”

“It’s not my fault you got tricked by them,” Max said.

CJ’s laughter echoed in the quiet room.

“Right, my bad. It’s not your fault at all, just like how I got hospitalized after what my brotherhood did to me at the Great Hall, and how you asked them to break my bones. It’s honestly a miracle I can move now,” CJ said, voice draped with sarcasm.

“It was a mistake. I told you, didn’t I?” Max insisted, and CJ laughed again.

“Oh yes, of course. I’m such a klutz. Just a big misunderstanding. I must have remembered wrong since I passed out afterward,” CJ said in a mocking tone, setting the bat aside and resting his arm along the back cushions.

Max clenched his fist—angry, not at CJ but at himself. He wanted to apologize as he did at the cemetery, but the words would not come. 

CJ was right back then. What you are inside J.S. High has nothing to do with you outside, and vice versa.

The Max now should be the one to take responsibility. The dweller who has two brotherhoods as his protectors, who asked the counts to beat their leader up…that’s the Max who should be saying sorry.

“Aww, what’s with the long face? Where did the sly little fox go?” CJ prodded. “You shouldn’t feel guilty, Maxy. After all, I did it to you too, right? That’s always the excuse. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Maybe I should have kicked you harder, considering my six trained brotherhood members punched and kicked me until I was bleeding to death.”

Max swallowed hard as the memory of the Great Hall hit him. He was tempted to drop to his knees and beg, but Krist’s warning echoed in his head.

The reminder hit him like a train.

CJ is very manipulative.

 “You almost got me,” Max said. “But I’m not broken enough for you to smother like ashes, Mills. I know my wrongs. You don’t have to rub it in my face to make me bow.”

Silence stretched. Then CJ burst out laughing, but louder this time.

“Shit, this is why I like you, Maxy. You’re fun. You know when to act a little crazy and when to act sane. Your mixture is just perfect,” he said, and Max could not tell whether it was a compliment or another jab.

“Did you call me here just to gaslight me?” Max asked.

CJ kept laughing.

Talking to the Cigarettes’ leader always felt like a puzzle. Max didn’t even know why he had been summoned. 

“Okay, I think I’m wasting my time.” He readied himself to leave, but CJ suddenly pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. 

It was an envelope stamped with a golden M.

“Is this…” Max turned it over. The back read: Lemieux Family.

“You got one,” he said in disbelief.

“It’s my last act as your homeboy. First time I called someone my master, so I didn’t want to suck at it,” CJ said, drawing out a cigarette and lighter. “It was almost impossible to acquire, but I pulled a couple of strings and did my magic. Thank me later.”

“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to do it, so I’m surprised. I didn’t put much hope in you since you weren’t my homeboy anymore. You could have let it go. Why still do it?” Max asked.

CJ pouted. “You underestimate me so much. I feel kinda hurt,” he said in a baby voice.

When Max did not bite, CJ rolled his eyes and answered straight. “I don’t know why you want to attend that party so badly, but I hate my father…if that’s not obvious. You want to talk to him and get his support, right? I’m telling you now. He won’t. He’ll never help you.”

“So you went through all that trouble to hand me an invitation just so your father could reject me?” Max asked.

“Do you not have a brain?” CJ mocked. “He won’t entertain you. But knowing you, you’ll prove him wrong, he’ll eat his words, and he’ll end up helping you anyway. Watching that man swallow his pride will be very satisfying for me. Small price I’m willing to pay.”

Max stared, half expecting a joke. But CJ was dead serious. By now, Max should have known what kind of person he was.

“Now you’re overestimating me,” Max muttered, annoyed.

CJ stood and picked up the bat, and Max reflexively stepped back.

CJ smirked at the reaction, then pointed at Max’s collar. “Don’t worry. I can’t touch you with that Sinclaire brooch still pinned to your collar.”

“That didn’t stop you from almost strangling me last time, did it?” Max shot back.

CJ only shrugged and walked toward the dangling white uniform, who had already passed out.

Max could barely look at the boy. “Give me a reason to walk away and pretend I didn’t see an unconscious white uniform in your base.”

CJ stared at him like he was the biggest hypocrite alive. After the Great Hall, Max, playing the noble hero, left a bitter taste. Students feared him now, and once fear set in, respect was hard to win back. CJ had known that for a long time.

“A reason? Okay, here’s one,” CJ said, expression serious. “There are times when that brooch of yours becomes invisible to me. If you want a repeat of last time, interrupt my brotherhood custom. Otherwise, let me finish, and I’ll let you leave with that invitation,” CJ warned.

Max clenched his fist and forced himself to look at the white uniform. Guilt surged as CJ’s bloodied face flashed in his mind.

He had sworn not to repeat his mistake. But this was a brotherhood custom. This was not Jokers’ jack-in-the-box, where the Jacks bore the blame. Here, he could not interfere.

He could do only one thing.

“Bring him to Omega Society. We’ll dispose of him. You don’t even need to pay us,” Max said.

CJ considered, then rested the bat on his shoulder and smiled. “Alright, then. Thanks for the wonderful service. I promise to give you a five-star rating.”

“I seriously hate this guy…” Max muttered, heading for the door.

“Enjoy your party, little Maxy!”

…

“I want you to greet everyone there. Even if you don’t know them, shake their hand and show respect. Understand?” Denzel asked, looking at Marcus beside him in the car.

Marcus, in an expensive black suit with his hair slicked back, looked every inch the proper heir. He did not want to attend, but he came for Max’s sake.

He had zero desire for the company, but this would be the first time Marcus was introduced as a Sinclaire before important people. The party was exclusive—no press to complicate things—yet he was still nervous. He had always been a Sinclaire, but he had never felt it.

He had promised Max he would carry the Sinclaire name with pride. It might not include the company, but this was a promise he could keep.

“For now, introduce yourself as Marcus. You don’t want people realizing Edith is your mother. I’ll explain in the future,” Denzel added.

Marcus watched traffic blur past the window. “Father, why did you take Max’s inheritance away?” he suddenly asked, surprising the two of them.

Marcus had never opened up about this before.

“Because I want to marry Edith, and it’s always stated that the legal eldest becomes the heir. There isn’t much I can do,” Denzel answered, almost like it was automated.

Marcus turned with a serious look. “I’m not a child anymore, Father. I know that’s not the only reason. I know how reliable Max is. He’s the perfect heir, a chairman who’d raise the company higher. He doesn’t have to be the eldest to inherit. So why did you still take it from him?”

Denzel drew a breath, choosing his words. He knew Marcus was right.

“Max grew up following his mother’s footsteps. I always told Luna he was too young, but she wanted him to start early so he could be better than the rest. Max was drowned in books and classes that weren’t meant for a child,” Denzel said, and Marcus blinked. He had never heard this.

“He wanted to be like her. Luna wanted him to be better. I watched him grow into the perfect heir, just like she wanted. But we can’t predict the future. Now I’m trying to make things right. I’ve always seen Max as Luna’s son, but now I’m his father, and I won’t let him meet the same end Luna did.”

Marcus frowned at the cryptic explanation, then the meaning hit, raising the hairs on his arms.

“W-Wait…do you mean the person who tried to kill Madam Luna is trying to kill Max too?” he asked, eyes wide, thinking of the bombing at BND’s base.

“So it wasn’t connected to the pageant at all?” he pressed.

Before Denzel could answer, they arrived.

“Marcus, I trust you’ll keep this from your brother,” Denzel said, straightening his tie. “Just like you always have.”

He stepped out, leaving Marcus stunned. Marcus’s mind warred with itself, but he shook it off. Things were already complicated. As long as Max still didn’t remember his past, Marcus could hold on and lie a little longer.

“Good evening, Sir Marcus,” an employee greeted as Marcus emerged from the car, face set.

Marcus cleared his throat and walked toward the Sinclaire hotel, where the party would take place. He followed behind his father as a dozen employees led them through.

At the hall entrance, Denzel presented their invitation. A man in a maroon suit checked it. Ridiculous as it was, even for Denzel, the man scanned the card for authenticity.

The scanner flashed green. The man in maroon smiled and returned the card. Raising a microphone, he announced, “ The Sinclaire Family! “

The large doors swung open, and guests turned as Denzel and Marcus made their entrance.

All the big names in business were there. Many had graced the cover of Forbes. Despite himself, Marcus was starstruck.

“Chairman Denzel!” a woman called, and they turned to greet her.

Marcus expected a stranger, but his face lit up when he spotted Hans with his mother.

“The reception is amazing. Chairman Mills really made the right decision to hold their anniversary here,” Mrs. de Vries said as Denzel approached and kissed the back of her hand.

“You flatter me, Madam Rosetta,” he said, then gestured to Marcus. “This is my eldest son, Marcus.”

Madam Rosetta de Vries was surprised but, out of respect, said nothing. She smiled as Marcus took her hand and kissed it. “Madam Rosetta. It is an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied.

She was about to introduce her son, but Hans bowed first. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Denzel. My name is Hans, and I’m a close friend of your son. We both study at J.S. High.”

They looked surprised, then Denzel smiled. “Wonderful. How about we leave the two young men while we handle our business?”

Madam Rosetta chuckled and nodded. “You’re right. Our conversation would only bore them. Let them enjoy themselves.” She and Denzel moved on to greet other guests.

“Can’t believe you actually came,” Hans said once their parents were gone.

A waiter passed with flutes of champagne. Marcus took one. “I can’t believe my father made me. Did you see your mother’s face when I was introduced as his eldest son?”

“There were always rumors about Chairman Denzel’s affair and an illegitimate child. She must be shocked they’re true. But honestly, it’s not an issue in our world. Affairs and illegitimate children are common,” Hans said, and Marcus chuckled.

“How about Red? Have you seen him?” Marcus asked after a sip.

“The Monsour family was invited, but Red’s father came with his wife. They’re probably worried he’s been in the public eye too much and people here might talk.”

“I guess that makes sense. Did you see his billboard on Fifth Avenue? Bigger than what most famous actors get, and it’s just a perfume,” Marcus exclaimed, making Hans laugh this time.

“Impressive, but in an elites’ world it can be seen as embarrassing. I’m just glad Red’s enjoying himself.”

Marcus nodded and finished his drink. As they stood amid the crowd, the herald announced the next arrival.

“The Lin Family!”

The doors opened, and Cindy Lin and her father entered. Cindy shone so brightly that heads turned. She was the true jewel of their family, and there was no denying it.

“Ms. Cindy Lin. Not a day goes by that I’m not amazed by her,” he said in awe. But when he looked back at Marcus, he immediately cleared his throat and added, “O-Of course, that’s purely infatuation. Nothing more.”

Marcus chuckled, tearing his gaze away from the Lin’s jewel. “Shut up…Cindy and I are just acquaintances.”

Hans nearly snorted. “Acquaintances? Oh really. If you’re just acquaintances, let’s go greet her properly,” he teased, grabbing Marcus’s hand and pulling him along.

Marcus protested like a teenager in love, but just as they were meters away from Cindy and her father, the voice announced another family. This time, the hall went quiet, almost like everyone thought they had misheard.

“Let us welcome… the Lemieux family !”

|END|

83 | The Awaited Comeback

♞

ÉTIENNE TOOK A DEEP breath and focused on the road ahead. He glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted Max in the back seat, wearing a white suit and a confident posture.

The sight of him made the butler smile. Max had really grown to be an outstanding man before his very eyes. It didn’t even feel that long ago when he and his father first came to the hospital to visit Luna.

Luna had just given birth. Max wouldn’t stop crying. Eleven-year-old Étienne approached the young heir and smiled at him. The moment their eyes locked, Max stopped and laughed. Étienne was ecstatic.

That very same day, Étienne’s father told him that the baby was going to be his master from now on, and it would be his life’s duty to serve and protect him.

Étienne had been Max’s butler since then. Even though he had practically given his entire life to the Lemieuxes, Étienne never held grudges. Three generations of his family had served them, and all had been loyal to the last breath.

The Lemieuxs are known to be prestigious and elegant. Their image is as pure as white. Unlike the Stepanovs, they don’t get their hands dirty. And that’s where their butlers come in.

People who know the Lemieuxs instantly know about their butlers. They’re considered their shadow, quiet yet fearsome. They’re famous since the family made sure they got their education, along with butler and etiquette training. They were also encouraged to hone different skills such as cooking, painting, calligraphy, and even horseback riding.

Because Étienne was assigned to serve the family’s young heir, his training intensified—firearms, close combat, even the art of investigation. Each discipline shaped him to become Max’s perfect soldier.

When Étienne’s father died, Max became his only family. He was a friend, a brother, and sometimes even a son. Étienne had watched him grow from a stubborn child into a strong-willed man, and he could not have been prouder.

He had protected Max from everything and everyone. He had done all he could to make sure Max grew up with no worries, and that included the secrets Max believed were being kept from him.

“Will you be alright, Master?” Étienne asked at last, glancing back at Max’s serious expression.

Max didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath and drew something from beneath his shirt…his necklace.

“I’ll be fine. I only need to talk to Mr. Mills. After that, I’ll leave,” Max said, reassuringly. But Étienne knew it would not be that simple. Even in the same room, speaking to Chairman Christopher Mills would be a challenge, especially for someone like Max.

“Chairman Mills rules the underground business scene for a reason. He won’t entertain a kid, especially one who lost his inheritance. You think you can turn things around?” Étienne asked, and Max finally met his gaze in the mirror, his expression hardening.

“Everything I have done and experienced is all preparation for tonight. I’ll make sure the chairman will have no choice but to listen to me,” Max said. “Besides, I have friends at the party who will help me. There’s no need to worry.”

Étienne was about to reply, but Max added, “What you should worry about is the task I gave you. I’m assuming you’re already working on it.”

Étienne swallowed and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Your request is quite difficult, Master Leigh.”

“Difficult because you can’t find anything, or because you already know everything and you aren’t telling me?” Max asked, and Étienne sighed in frustration.

“No, Master. I will find a way to complete your task and not disappoint you,” Étienne said. 

Max held the silence for a couple of seconds before letting go of his necklace. “I hope you’re more loyal to me than you are to my mother, Étienne,” Max finished, turning to the window.

The rest of the drive passed in heavy silence, which Max welcomed. He needed to focus and set his goals straight. Everything that had happened so far had thrown him off. Now that he was back, he could not allow anything to set him back again.

Especially now with his father there to witness a possible failure or success.

“We have arrived, Master.”

Max looked ahead and saw the sign that said Sinclaire Hotel & Casino . Cars lined up at the entrance, and familiar faces streamed into the lobby. It was the perfect venue for such an important event since the hotel sat atop a hill, offering a commanding view of the city.

It had been a while since Max visited the hotels. To be exact, he had not visited any since Denzel announced his marriage to Edith.

“Where will you wait?” Max asked as Étienne pulled toward the main entrance.

“I’ll be in the driver’s lounge. Message me when you’re ready to leave,” Étienne said, parking.

Employees, who were stationed outside to greet guests, were startled by the car’s official Sinclaire emblem. They had been told only Denzel would come, so none of them processed what they were seeing until Étienne stepped out and opened Max’s door.

Max emerged, and the employees bowed at the sight of their young master.

One rushed ahead and bowed deeper. “S-Sir Maximilian! We apologize for not welcoming you properly. We weren’t expecting you. We thought only Chairman—”

“It’s alright,” Max said, cutting him off. “Lead me to the party.”

“Y-Yes, of course…right this way, sir.”

The employee hurried inside. Max nodded to Étienne, then followed.

He adjusted his cuffs as they reached the venue. Like everyone before him, the man in red at the door was surprised to see Max. He glanced at his list to check whether the Sinclaire family had already entered, but Max had already taken an invitation from his coat and offered it.

The man examined it, and his eyes widened when he saw it was addressed to the Lemieux family. He raised his scanner to double-check. And when it flashed green, he looked up at Max in disbelief.

“Does that mean I can come in now?” Max asked with his perfect smile. “Please make your announcement welcoming, so the guests inside know I’ve arrived.”

The man snapped to attention, cleared his throat, and, after a quick apology, lifted the microphone. “Let us welcome…the Lemieux family!”

The doors opened. Max smoothed his coat and stepped inside.

Heads turned in shock. They couldn’t believe that he came after the news of his inheritance. But his appearance alone wasn’t the only thing that left them stunned. It was the name Max had decided to represent.

Lemieux Family.

No one had heard of that family ever since Luna died. Her death cost them to hide, but the name itself almost felt like a myth now.

The Lemieux family had been the strongest next to the Stepanov clan. Though both families were believed to have perished, no one denied that those who remained could not compare to their former power. Not even the Sinclaires would have stood a chance had they still been present.

Everyone knew those families were long gone, yet as Max appeared in the doorway, they swallowed in fear and disbelief.

The Lemieux family was not dead. As long as Max stood, it lived on. And the same applied to the Stepanov family: as long as Viktor lived, the clan survived.

“ That’s what you call a comeback, “ Max whispered, taking in the stares that followed him like he was a ghost.

He moved through the hall, scanning for a familiar face. While everyone else took a step back, Marcus and Hans approached with proud smiles.

“Max,” Hans said, stopping in front of him, touching his chest, then bowing with respect.

Outside J.S. High, Max might as well have been the king of heirs. Title revoked or not, most heirs would agree that nothing had changed.

“You look good,” Hans added.

“White suits me, after all,” Max said, and Marcus smiled, patting his head like always.

Max whined like a kid, then laughed as Marcus fixed his hair. They slipped into easy conversation, ignoring the sneaky glances around them until Max saw a familiar man approaching.

“Give me a second?” he asked. Hans and Marcus turned to see Denzel walking toward them, face set.

Marcus worried Denzel would say something that might hurt Max, but he stepped back, trusting his brother to handle it.

Max nodded and walked to meet his father. Guests watched discreetly. Max bowed. “Good evening, Chairman Denzel.”

Denzel said nothing at first, clearly composing himself. He had not imagined Max would go to such lengths. He had underestimated his son.

“Have you no shame? Coming here uninvited?” Denzel asked, almost making Max laugh.

“Uninvited?” Max echoed, drawing his invitation from his coat. “I am, in fact, invited. You have no right to send me home if that’s your plan.”

Denzel didn’t answer. His gaze dropped to the necklace at Max’s throat, and his eyes widened. That was Luna’s. For a moment, it felt as if she were standing before him.

“Sometimes I forget you’re Luna’s son,” Denzel said. “And it looks like you finally chose the family you wish to carry. For a time, I hoped it was the Sinclaires, but deep down I knew there was no reason for you to hold onto it when you had nothing but hatred for the family.”

“I don’t hate the family,” Max corrected softly. “I indeed hated how I was treated, but never the family. No matter what, I am a Sinclaire.”

Denzel’s expression softened. Sometimes he forgot Max was his son too, but he didn’t dare say it.

“Whatever you plan to do here…it won’t change anything. I will not change my mind about making Marcus my inheritor,” Denzel said seriously, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Max drew a breath and met his eyes. He had waited for this. After everything, and after careful thought, he finally knew what to say.

Silence between them was no longer an option.

“I respect you, Father. I always have,” he began. “I wanted to be like you and follow in your footsteps. I won’t stop you from giving your shares to Marcus because he’s your eldest, and that’s his right. But I won’t let you stop me from taking what is mine…because I am Luna’s only son.”

Denzel felt something in his chest as soon as the words landed.

“I am the last living heir of the Lemieux family. I will not let my family die. I’ll work hard on my own until you are forced to make me the heir of that company again.”

A murmur rippled around them. No heir spoke to a father like that—certainly not in public.

It only proved the depth of Max’s confidence. This was why he was the most powerful heir in the world.

Denzel stared, and for the first time, he did not see Luna’s son, or even his own. He saw Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire-Lemieux, the heir presidents and CEOs feared, Crème de la Crème’s rank one, and the boy said to hold the future of the business world.

“ I am a fool ,“ Denzel thought. “ Marriage to Edith would never be enough to stop someone like you .“ He set a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“It seems nothing will sway you. I’ve underestimated you yet again, Maximilian,” he said, squeezing once. As the room held its breath, he sighed in relief and whispered, “ Maybe Luna was wrong. Good luck .“

Max’s eyes widened. Before he could speak, Denzel released him and walked away. He did not order him to leave, and he did not try to discourage him. How his father reacted made Max feel—

“Leigh,” a voice called.

Max turned. Cindy walked toward him with a bright smile.

Max smiled back at her. When she stopped in front of him, he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re as breathtaking as the last time I saw you.”

Cindy laughed and swatted his arm. “Please, don’t flatter me.”

“It’s good to see you again, Cindy,” he said.

Her smile softened. She reached lightly for the necklace at his throat. “It’s good to see you too, Leigh.”

“Shall we talk in private?” Max asked, offering his arm.

Cindy was surprised. The guests around them, too, including Hans and Marcus, weren’t expecting their friendliness.

She didn’t know why he wanted privacy, but she nodded and took his arm. “Alright then.”

They walked to the balconies, where there were no people. As soon as Cindy saw the view, she let go and ran to the balustrade.

Max watched her, smiling. Somehow, they shared a past. Even without his memories, he felt it. The reason they clicked so quickly, the ease between them…all this time, there was a reason.

He tried to remember, but like with Gavriil, nothing came. He knew they had met, but beyond that, everything else was blank.

“Sinclaire Hotels is the most famous in the world, and I believe it’s because you’ve managed to place them in the best locations,” Cindy said, admiring the lights below.

“Cindy…” Max said, walking toward her with his hands in his pockets.

Her dress lifted lightly in the wind as she glanced back. Smiling through loose strands of hair, she listened as he said, “I will try to remember everything. I promise I’ll recover the memories I have of you and the others. I won’t be the ignorant child you know now, so please…wait for that day.”

Cindy went still. The music from the hall drifted out, and the wind blew stronger. But as Cindy stared at the young boy in front of him, a tear uncontrollably slid down her cheek.

With her lips pressed together, as if to hold back a sob, she let the tears fall and nodded, telling him without words that she would wait no matter what.

She didn’t know how Max found out, but her longing for him had finally borne fruit. Little by little, piece by piece, his childhood friend promised to return. And this time, Cindy wouldn’t have to say goodbye to their past.

This time, she’d definitely wait for the great Maximilian to make his full comeback.

|END|

84 | The Declaration

♞

MOST OF THE GUESTS had finally arrived at the venue, and Max walked back into the hall with Cindy holding his arm.

“I forgot to bring this up earlier, but it seemed like you had a very serious conversation with your father before I called you out. Did he say something to you?” Cindy asked. 

“My father is too old and too tired to be fighting with his seventeen-year-old son,” Max simply answered, making Cindy chuckle. “But he’s smart, and he knows that watching me is better than stopping me. I just have to prove to him I can do it.”

“You always remind me why you’re rank one,” Cindy told him. “When we were younger, there was a time I was jealous that I ranked below you, but I guess when we’re kids, we do and think of useless things.”

Max smiled at the comment. He almost mentioned how Viktor was supposed to be ranked one among them, but he remembered not everyone knew he was alive. He could not slip up, especially in a room with CEOs and presidents.

“Max,” someone called, and he and Cindy turned toward the voice.

Hans, walking beside Marcus, approached and took Cindy’s hand in greeting.

“We’ve been wanting to greet you since you arrived, but it seems my friend here is a bit shy,” Hans said, immediately making Marcus step on his foot. 

Hans didn’t react as he lowered his head to kiss Cindy’s hand.

“I’m honored that the dukes are giving me such special attention,” Cindy said before looking at Marcus. “But aren’t we past the point where we should be shy around each other?”

Marcus practically choked on air before he could defend himself. “Please, don’t believe anything this man says. He might look like a gentleman, but he’s a conman. He’ll say anything to get a girl.”

“Seriously, Marcus? Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need to con anyone to get them.”

The four laughed and started having a normal conversation with each other. As the live band played in the background, the bassoons and saxophones jazzed up the place, and people finally started loosening up. Waiters circulated with more drinks, and some guests took their seats at their designated tables.

“What table are you on, Max?” Hans asked.

“Twelve,” Max answered.

While the others continued talking, Max spotted someone in the crowd. He must have been so busy that he hadn’t even heard his name announced earlier.

“Excuse me for a second,” Max said.

Without waiting for a response, he went through the guests until he reached a small boy speaking with three different CEOs. If not for his demeanor, one would not have guessed he was a teenager.

“Mr. Campbell,” Max greeted.

Felix turned, his serious expression breaking into a wide smile. “Max! You’re here!”

Max chuckled and patted Felix’s head before taking him in from head to toe. “Look at you. You look wonderful.”

“So do you.”

The CEOs were surprised to see Max, but they drifted away, thinking it would be bad to be seen associated with him.

“Thank God you came. It was so boring talking to those fuckwits,” Felix said, nearly making Max laugh. “I wish Ari and Ervin could come too. It’s no fun without them.”

“Ervin, I agree with. But Ari? He’d hate this crowd and would complain all night,” Max said, and Felix laughed at the truth of it.

“Anyway, who did you—”

Before Felix could finish, the music stopped, and the lights dimmed. Everyone turned toward the entrance.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. To officially begin this event, let us all give a warm welcome to…the Mills family!” the herald announced.

The doors opened, revealing the members of the powerful Mills family.

Applause rose. Standing at the back was Chairman Christopher Mills. He was as terrifying as his sons, perhaps more so. Though he was old, he did not look weak.

“ I am a Mills, and being a Mills is a curse that I’ve been trying to break ever since she was kille d,“ Max remembered, staring at the infamous family. CJ’s words had not left him.

He drew a breath as the chairman walked to the stage while the rest of the family took their seats.

“Good evening, everyone,” Christopher began. “I am delighted to see all the families who have been with us and have supported us for all these one hundred and twenty-five years. I am sure my forefathers are pleased.” His notoriously husky voice carried.

“Tonight, we celebrate the achievements of our family and the bond we all share. Enjoy the night, everyone.”

Chairman Christopher ended his brief speech and stepped down as presidents and CEOs moved in to congratulate him.

“I have to talk to him,” Max murmured.

Felix, beside him, heard and, without warning, grabbed Max’s arm and started dragging him toward the chairman.

“F-Felix…what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry. Chairman Mills and my father are friends. They play golf together every Saturday,” Felix said casually.

Before Max could pull away, they were already in front of the chairman.

Those already speaking to him fell silent as Felix released Max’s arm and said with confidence, “Sir Chris, congratulations on your company’s one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary.”

“Oh, Felix! You made it! Did you come with your father? Where is he?” Christopher asked, but before Felix could answer, he noticed Max, and the smile on his face instantly vanished.

As their eyes met, Max composed himself, bowed, and said, “Good evening, Chairman Christopher. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

“I can’t believe Denzel actually came with you. I’d have thought he’d be ashamed to bring a son who isn’t even his heir anymore,” Christopher said, and the men around them chuckled.

Denzel, only meters away, heard every word. As much as he wanted to interfere, he knew this was a challenge Max had to face alone. If Max was so certain Denzel would return the inheritance to him, then his resolve had to be stronger than anyone’s in the hall.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Max took a deep breath and held steady. “He didn’t come with me. He came with his new heir. I came alone.”

The chairman’s expression shifted. He was about to summon the guards when Max added, “I wanted to speak with you. I know this isn’t the appropriate time or place, but if you’d give me a second of your time, I can guarantee that—”

“You have some nerves, child,” Christopher cut in. “I know why you’re here. You want me to help you get your inheritance back. Don’t make me laugh. I’ll never help a Sinclaire. The only reason I’m still connected to your company is because of my promise to Ulysses.”

Max clenched his fist. He had never begged before, especially not before someone who looked at him like dirt. 

Perhaps this was his curse. The curse of being a son of the Sinclaire family.

“I came here as a representative of the Lemieux,” Max declared, chin high. Whispers around them grew louder. Max was very good at making a scene.

“I am the son of Luna Lemieux, and by birthright I carry the family name. I will do everything to revive our family, and that includes you giving me the chance to speak with you,” Max said.

Silence fell. Even Cindy and his other friends were struck speechless.

Then, as the tension grew stronger, Christopher Mills started laughing. A few seconds later, everyone else joined him despite not knowing what they were laughing at.

When he stopped, he looked back at Max. “What can a boy like you do? You can’t even keep your inheritance with the Sinclaires. What makes you think you can revive the Lemieuxs? Don’t mock your grandfathers, child.”

“Don’t mock my abilities, old man,” Max shot back.

Gasps rippled through the guests, while Max’s friends couldn’t help but smirk at the petty insult. Even Denzel, who was supposed to oppose Max, suppressed a chuckle. Chairman Christopher never really liked him. Having Max call him “old man” felt satisfying.

“That’s my little brother,” Marcus murmured as he watched his brother with pride.

“I am better than half the people you call men in this party. My skills are far superior to those whose hair is whiter than the suit I’m wearing. Just because you see me as a child doesn’t mean I can’t take you on,” Max said.

One of the men started toward Max in anger, but Christopher raised a hand to stop him, as if inviting Max to continue.

“So it is true. You are your mother’s son: fierce and strong-willed,” Christopher said, lowering his hand. “Alright then, I’ll give you your chance, Maximilian.”

Max’s eyes widened, not because the chairman relented, but because he clearly knew his name all along.

“Prove you have the skills, and I’ll give you the chance to talk,” Christopher said.

“Alright…” Max paused, thinking about how to prove himself. Then he remembered something, and a smile curved his lips, the kind of smile that told Felix and the others Max had another plan up his sleeve.

“Your son, Charles Justin Mills…” he began.

This time, Christopher’s eyes narrowed.

“I heard he has his own company, but a little bird told me that a big shot is bullying them. Somehow, potential partnerships and investors are being blocked,” Max revealed. “Since you want to see my skills, I’ll show it to you…by helping CJ get his first investor.”

Christopher’s face darkened. And to everyone’s surprise, he grabbed Max by the collar.

Guests gasped. Marcus and the others braced to intervene.

“How dare you mention that boy’s name here?”

Max didn’t flinch. He met the chairman’s gaze and asked, “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? You should be afraid of me,” Christopher said, tightening his grip.

Max smirked and shoved him away. “I’m more afraid of CJ than I am of you, Chairman Christopher.”

Christopher clenched his fist. He wanted to say more, but nothing useful would come. Instead, he barked, “Get him out of here. Get this uninvited man out of here!”

“Shit. Time to back him up,” Hans said as guards moved toward Max.

The guests whispered while Hans and Marcus made their way to Max. But just as they got closer, someone got to Max first. Everyone was surprised. It was CJ’s brother, Jacob.

“I invited him,” Jacob announced, making both Christopher and Max look at him with their mouths agape. “It would be rude to kick out my guest now, wouldn’t it, Father?”

Christopher glared at his son but said nothing more and walked away. The crowd, as if on cue, returned to their conversations, pretending nothing had happened.

Marcus moved, but Hans caught his arm. “Let’s not interfere. Jacob saved him. It’d be bad to sweep Max away now.”

Marcus hesitated, then nodded.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to make a scene and ruin the mood. I just really wanted to talk to him. You could say I’m a bit desperate,” Max said as he walked beside Jacob, the jazzy music rising in the background again.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t ruin it. If anything, my father’s the one to blame. He could have ended your conversation like an adult, but he always acts that way toward people who challenge him,” Jacob said, making Max chuckle.

“So he hates me now?”

“Oh no, it’s the opposite, actually,” Jacob revealed, and Max frowned as Jacob continued, “Christopher Justin Mills is a smart and cruel man, but he loves people who have guts, just like what you showed. I bet you reminded him of his old friend when you stood up to him.”

“Old friend?”

“Your grandfather, Ulysses.”

As soon as Jacob said the name, Max instinctively touched his Lemieux necklace.

“I wasn’t expecting you to use CJ to prove our father wrong, but, ironically, you made a deal with him, just like how CJ is obsessed with making deals himself,” Jacob said, and Max let the necklace fall.

“I mean, it’s like hitting two birds with one stone,” Max said as they walked. “It’s useful to me more than anything.”

“Why are you even doing this for CJ? Do you like him or something?”

Max stopped, and Jacob stopped with him. He was not sure of the answer himself. His decision to help CJ had been a spur-of-the-moment choice.

“I don’t know. I hate his guts, and he’s done horrid things to me. But somehow I see myself in him. I don’t pity him, if that’s what you’re wondering, but he’s almost like my guilty conscience. He’s the person I want to become, but at the same time, I’m afraid of him. It’s hard to explain.”

Jacob studied him, then simply nodded. 

“Well, here we are. You’re at table twelve, right?” Jacob said instead, pointing at Max’s assigned seat.

“How did you know?”

“I told you—I invited you,” Jacob said with a smirk.

“You’re the one who got CJ the invite?” Max asked, shocked.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my brother. He’s still family. At the end of the day, we’re just different. And just like you, he doesn’t know how to give up. I didn’t have the guts to defy our father, but he did, and that’s something worth praising,” Jacob admitted.

Max could hardly believe Jacob would say that aloud.

“That’s why I said before that I admired your bravery for standing against your family. Not everyone has the luxury to do that,” Jacob added.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Max replied.

“Well then, I guess that’s it. Enjoy the rest of the party,” Jacob said. He was about to take his leave when Max bowed his head slightly.

“Actually, I wasn’t planning to stay long,” Max told him. “Please inform my friends of my sudden departure and apologize on my behalf. If it’s not too much to ask.”

Jacob chuckled and nodded as Max turned and walked to the exit.

He looked back over the guests one last time before making his way out. But as the door swung open, he was suddenly met by a familiar man he had not expected to see.

“Leigh…”

Max’s eyes widened, but a warm smile spread across his face as he answered back, “Gav…”

|END|

85 | Secret Place

♞

GAVRIIL, WHO WAS WEARING a simple dark grey suit with silver chains connecting the buttons of his vest to his coat, looked sharp yet elegant.

Max was surprised to see him standing there, but Gavriil was even more shocked. He had not expected Max to come to the party at all, despite knowing the Sinclaires were invited, and that the venue was, in fact, their hotel.

“W-Why are you here?” Gavriil asked as Max slowly approached.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Max answered, stopping in front of him. He then reached out and adjusted Gavriil’s necktie for him. “You look good.” Before Gavriil could react, Max gave his chest a gentle pat and walked away without another word.

Gavriil glanced down at his tie. It was now perfectly centered. 

“Wait!” he called, turning to grab Max’s wrist to stop him from leaving.

“Where are you going? Why are you leaving so soon?” he asked, holding Max’s wrist tightly, as if he couldn’t let him go.

Max, surprisingly, didn’t pull away. He looked back, and for a moment, they just stared at each other while the music from the hall pulsed through the closed doors. Gavriil’s heart beat faster. Max smiled and asked, “Shall we run away?”

…

“Will it be alright that you didn’t even show yourself at that party?” Max asked as they walked side by side in the parking lot.

“It’s fine,” Gavriil replied, hands deep in his pockets as though hiding the fact that he was second-guessing his decision. “No one really knows me that much. My parents only forced me to go since they’re not in the country.”

“So you were supposed to be their proxy?” Max asked sarcastically. Gavriil chuckled and nodded.

“But aren’t you ranked third in Crème de la Crème? It’s hard to believe people wouldn’t know about you,” Max pressed, finding it strange that the Alexeev family was invited, yet few seemed to recognize him.

“You didn’t know about me either until we became classmates at J.S. High, so I doubt others who are lower in standing would know me,” Gavriil said, making Max laugh.

“Touché.”

They reached Gavriil’s car, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom IX. Gavriil opened the door for Max like a gentleman, and Max climbed in without hesitation.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Gavriil glanced at Max, who sat silently, waiting for him to start the engine. But instead of driving off, Gavriil leaned closer, surprising Max. 

Max didn’t know what the vice president was planning to do, but then he pulled the seatbelt across his chest, clicking it into place.

“It’s important to wear your seatbelt,” Gavriil said as he fastened his own.

Max unconsciously touched his chest and looked away. “I don’t usually sit in the passenger’s seat,” he murmured unnecessarily.

A flicker of sadness passed over Gavriil’s face, but he brushed it away. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Anyway, where do you want to go?”

“Take me to a place where no one will find us,” Max said, unbuttoning his coat without looking at him.

Gavriil swallowed hard, then started the car. “I hope Étienne won’t hold a grudge against me for taking you without permission.”

“If you really are my childhood friend, I believe Étienne wouldn’t mind,” Max smirked.

Gavriil chuckled and drove out of the lot. The silence grew heavier as they left the hotel. Reaching for the radio to break it, Gavriil stopped when Max said, “Leave it.”

The vice pulled his hand away in an instant.

While the silence carried them nowhere, Max pulled the invitation out from his coat’s pocket, staring at it with a blank expression. He stared at the name, and then chuckled. Gavriil glanced at him but said nothing.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/7fc889d232a0cc1e3bc665f5ed682232fa1a0566/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f59443650457a5f793241485164673d3d2d313133303737363035392e313861643838306438303463623463393235313134373736303337352e706e67)               

“I am the son of Luna Lemieux, and by birthright I carry the family name,” he told Chairman Christopher earlier.

He was brave then, but now, as he looked back at how the entire encounter unfolded, he became doubtful. Was he ready to carry generations of Lemiuexs on his back? Or was it all wishful thinking?

“What does your family do?” Max asked after a while so he could occupy his thoughts with something else.

The question seemed harmless, but Gavriil stiffened. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he said lightly, and Max decided not to push him for an answer.

“You’re very mysterious, aren’t you? Just like Viktor. No wonder the five of us became friends.”

“Viktor’s not mysterious. People just think he’s dead,” Gavriil blurted, and Max instantly broke into laughter.

When he managed to let the joke pass, he wiped his tears and looked back at Gavriil. “By the way, do you know where he is? He hasn’t been going to school. I’m kind of getting worried,” he said, his sarcasm laced with a hint of seriousness.

“Worried? About Viktor? Believe me, whatever’s happening to him, he can handle it. He’s a tough one,” Gavriil reassured him.

Max nodded and leaned against the window. His eyes grew heavy with exhaustion from countless restless nights before the party. To avoid falling asleep, he tried to keep the conversation going.

“Why are you always so quiet, Alexeev? I don’t see you around school much, but you always look reserved, like you’re calculating everything. It’s as if you’re afraid of making mistakes,” Max said next.

“That’s a brave assumption,” Gavriil replied, glancing at Max’s reflection in the window. “But if I have to explain myself to you, you’d only die of boredom.”

“I won’t,” Max answered softly. “I actually want to know more about you, so I can remember.”

Gavriil’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He exhaled slowly, then finally answered. “Well, for starters, I’m an only child. Growing up, everyone expected a lot from me. My family wanted nothing less than perfection, and mistakes meant punishment. Maybe that molded who I am now. I can’t help it.”

“So you hated your childhood?” Max asked.

“No…never. I was never punished in a way that traumatized me, despite growing up alone. I never hated it because I had—” Gavriil stopped and took a breath. “We’re heirs. Behind all the riches, power, and luxury, there’s a cost. We gain something, but we lose a lot, including a normal childhood. I bet you can agree with that.”

He stopped at a red light and looked over, expecting an answer. But Max was already asleep.

Gavriil sighed, then smiled. “ And you said you wouldn’t get bored ,“ he whispered.

As the silence wrapped around them, he slipped off his coat and draped it over Max. He then reached out to push the hair away from Max’s face. He smiled at his passenger. His presence alone was enough…until a honk snapped him back to reality. 

Gavriil blinked and stepped on the gas.

After about twenty minutes of a quiet drive, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID, and a bitter look crossed his face. He wanted to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop ringing.

He took a Bluetooth earpiece from the cupholder, slipped it into his left ear, and looked back at Max. Seeing him still asleep, he finally answered.

“You piece of shit. Ignoring my calls now? Do you have a death wish?” the caller said immediately.

“I’m busy,” Gavriil answered.

Laughter crackled through the line. “Oh, right, you’re having a great time at the party. Sorry for disturbing you—is what I’d fucking say if you actually went.”

Gavriil cursed under his breath.

“I told you to go. I needed information from those old geezers. Why the hell are you not there?”

Gavriil glanced at Max again. “I’ll find another way. I’ll get you that information, but not now. I have more important matters to attend to.”

The caller laughed again, and Gavriil knew he already understood what the “important matter” was.

Instinctively, he looked at the rearview mirror.

“I fucking hate you,” Gavriil muttered, noticing a car that had been following them for a while now. “You even sent someone to tail me. How obsessed are you?”

“Oh, very,” the caller said in a low, teasing voice.

Gavriil was about to hang up when the caller added, “By the way, your coat is falling off him. Better fix it before he gets cold.”

Gavriil’s eyes widened. He immediately held onto Max, then slammed the brakes. The tires screech, the noise echoing down the empty road.

As soon as the car stopped, Gavriil checked Max. He shifted but didn’t wake up. Gavriil sighed in relief before fixing the coat and stepping out of the car.

The trailing car stopped behind him. Its driver got out with a phone in his hand. Smirking, he spoke into it. “What? You mad I’m ruining your precious little date?”

Gavriil ripped off his earpiece and threw it to the ground. “What the fuck do you want…Viktor?”

Viktor ended the call, pocketed his phone, and approached. “What do I want?” He asked, grin turning cold. “I want the information from the men at that party. How hard is that to accomplish?”

“I told you I’d handle it, but not now,” Gavriil said quickly, not wanting Max to wake and find him gone.

“You’re pissing me off, Gav. And you know it won’t end well for you if you piss me off any further than this,” Viktor warned.

“You’re the one pissing me off, Vi. I’ve done everything you’ve asked for years. All I’m asking is for you to leave me alone for one fucking night, you goddamn psycho!” Gavriil burst out.

Viktor stared at him, then grabbed his shoulders and laughed. Out of nowhere, he hugged Gavriil, patted his back, and stepped away right after.

“You’re really something. No wonder you were the bossy one when we were young,” Viktor said. “Alright. I’m giving you this chance because I pity your useless ass.”

“I don’t need your pity,” Gavriil shot back.

“Oh, believe me, you do. Because if I didn’t, I’d drag you by the hair, shove you into my trunk, and force you to attend that party like the psycho I am,” Viktor threatened.

Gavriil no longer said anything. Knowing Viktor, he’d definitely do it if given the chance.

“You win this round, Mr. Vice President. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

He patted Gavriil’s shoulder, turned back to his car, and opened the door. Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Remember what we talked about. I need that information as soon as possible. I know you won’t let me down. After all…” He smirked. “I made you Busters’ underling for a reason.”

Gavriil clenched his fist, and Viktor smiled in satisfaction.

“Also, this road you’re taking…” Viktor glanced ahead. “You’re bringing him back there, aren’t you? To our special place.” His voice almost softened. “Shout there for me,” he finished, finally climbing into his car and driving away.

Gavriil stared at the car as it drove farther away.

“Y-you…remember,” Gavriil murmured, clutching his chest. “You always say you don’t care about the past, Vi, but why did you look so sad?”

When Gavriil could no longer see Viktor’s car, he turned back to where Max still slept. He reached out to touch him, but decided to pull back. He drew a breath and gripped the steering wheel, resting his head on it.

Like Max, Gavriil was also exhausted.

He had battles of his own and memories of the past that were more of a burden than a source of freedom.

“What did Viktor say?” a voice cut in.

Gavriil immediately looked back. Max had woken up, and he was hugging Gavriil’s coat, his eyes and nose red.

“Are you cold?” Gavriil asked instead, turning off the AC.

“Where are we?” Max asked, changing his question.

“I lied about my parents forcing me to go. I was actually supposed to go to the party because of Viktor, so I could gather information for him. But I wasn’t in the mood,” Gavriil suddenly admitted.

Max wasn’t expecting Gavriil to start explaining himself, but after adjusting himself, he chuckled. “Not in the mood? I practically forced you to leave, so it’s my fault. Maybe that’s why he looked mad.”

“When did you wake up, you cheeky little brat?” Gavriil teased, reaching to pinch his nose.

Max laughed and pushed his hand away. “You should have gone to the party if it was that important, Gav.”

Max’s smile stopped Gavriil’s world for a second. He looked at him with quiet admiration and told him, “But you’re important too.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the smile on Max’s face slowly disappeared. They stared at each other, the moment stretching, until Max turned his head to the window first, acting as if he hadn’t heard what Gavriil said. 

The reaction made the vice chuckle.

“You shy?” he teased.

Max swallowed, his cheeks heating. “J-Just drive,” he muttered. 

Gavriil laughed and started the car.

The awkward tension between them grew, but mostly because Max was acting weird about it. As a boy who grew up learning tax and politics, flirting was foreign to him. If this ever was flirting.

“By the way, have you talked to Chairman Mills?” Gavriil asked suddenly.

“H-How did you know?”

“I just had a hunch. There wouldn’t be any other reason for you to be there. You’re after the hidden stocks, remember?”

“Well, I did get the chance to talk to him, but it didn’t end how I wanted. Nonetheless, I’ll get him to listen once I help CJ get an investor,” Max said casually.

Gavriil almost stepped on the brakes again. “Leigh, you do know how powerful the Mills family is, right? You wouldn’t be asking for their help if they weren’t. And with your current standing, you’re not as influential as before.”

“Are you doubting me already?” Max asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’m just asking.”

Before Max could argue, Gavriil parked at the side of the road. Max looked out and realized they were on top of a hill.

“We’re here,” Gavriil said.

“What in the…are you planning to push me off a cliff and murder me?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Gavriil laughed and got out. He then rushed to Max’s side to open the door for him. “You told me to bring you to a place where no one could find us. Well, here we are.”

Max gave him a suspicious look but stepped out of the car anyway.

“Watch your step and follow me.”

They walked through a cluster of trees that opened onto the edge of a cliff. Max had expected nothing, but the sight stole his words. The city lights blended with the sky in a breathtaking panorama. Max almost thought he was looking at a picture.

“Well, Leigh,” Gavriil said softly, “Welcome to our secret place. Welcome to the King’s Horizon.”

|END|

86 | King’s Horizon

♞

“WELL, LEIGH, WELCOME TO our secret place. Welcome to the King’s Horizon,” Gavriil said, and Max walked closer to the edge, staring at the view with his mouth slightly open.

“T-The King’s Horizon?” Max asked, his chest suddenly aching. And as he continued to stare at the view before him, a tear slipped down his cheek. There was something about this place that felt bittersweet.

“I’ve been here before, haven’t I?” he asked, touching his chest.

Gavriil, standing behind him with his hands in his pockets, said, “Of course you have. The five of us always came here. Unfortunately, this was also the last place we were all together. It’s where we parted ways.”

Max kept his gaze on the horizon. As he stared in silence, a memory flashed. He could not make it out clearly, but he saw five figures standing near the cliff’s edge, hands linked, shouting something all together so loud and overlapping that the words blurred.

As the moment surfaced, more tears fell, and Max dropped to his knees, dirtying his perfectly clean white pants.

“I…I remember,” Max said. “We were shouting. I don’t know what it was, but we were shouting something…”

“We came here and shouted our dreams and aspirations. Everything we wanted to declare to the world, we laid it bare here. We all felt like kings,” Gavriil explained as he approached. He then pulled a hand from his pocket and offered it. “Want to try it again?”

Max looked up and slowly reached out for his hand. Gavriil pulled him up and moved closer to wipe his tears.

“Such a crybaby,” Gavriil teased, and Max punched him in the shoulder.

They walked closer to the edge, fingers intertwined. Gavriil glanced at him. “As loud as you can, okay? We’ll shout everything we want the world to know.”

Max nodded, and they faced the horizon.

“Okay. In three…two—”

Max squeezed Gavriil’s hand, and Gavriil squeezed back. At the top of their lungs, they shouted…

“…I’ll become someone my younger self would be proud of!”

“…We’ll be stronger and avenge everyone and everything that we lost!”

Panting like they had run a marathon, they stood catching their breath. The release was staggering. A tear slipped from Gavriil’s eye, too, but he wiped it away quickly, only to find Max already watching him.

“Who’s the crybaby now?” Max teased, reaching to brush away what remained of Gavriil’s tears.

Gavriil said nothing, but after gathering up all his courage, he pulled Max into his arms and held him. They stood in silence. Max was momentarily surprised, but he eventually grabbed Gavriil’s shirt and rested his forehead on Gavriil’s chest. The warmth and the closeness made Gavriil’s heart race.

“I’m sorry this is all I can do for you,” Gavriil said softly. “I’ll try my best to find more chances like this, if you allow me. I’ll make up for the lost time,” Gavrill said, and Max hugged him tighter.

“Just like what I promised Cindy, I’ll do everything I can to remember you. I have to remember all of you. I just have to,” Max said, voice tight. Gavriil smiled warmly, pulled back, and patted his head the way he always had when they were young.

Max flushed, then chuckled and playfully pushed his hand away.

“Thank you, though…for this, and for everything else you’ve given me so far. You don’t know how much I needed it. After everything that happened, I needed someone to show me a piece of my past so I could see the path to my future. You’ve been trying to reveal these things to me, taking risks not everyone would take, so as my sincere thanks—”

Gavriil did not understand why Max suddenly spoke like that. But when he realized that Max was about to bow to him, his eyes widened. He instantly grabbed Max’s shoulders to stop him. “N-No…don’t do that. Never do that,” he told him.

Max frowned, straightening. “Why? It’s not like I’m—”

“I…I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve gratitude from you, from Viktor, from Cindy, from anyone,” Gavriil said, his voice almost shaking.

Seeing his troubled expression, Max drew a steadying breath and tried to lighten the mood. “Well then, you just missed your shot at getting bowed to by the most powerful heir in the world.”

“I guess you’ll have to bow to me instead, because I’ll be the Elites’ president soon,” he added, and Gavriil finally smiled and reached in to pinch his nose.

“You cheeky little brat,” he said, making Max laugh again.

Gavriil knew Max was saying those things to spare his feelings, but he let it go and looked at him with quiet admiration.

This was Max, the boy who conquered Jokers, BND, and soon Cigarettes. Whatever past they shared would have to wait. Max was here now, and Gavriil’s goal was to support him in conquering the rest of the Brotherhoods and eventually becoming part of the Elites…

Just as Viktor had instructed him to do.

“So, shall we go back?” Gavriil asked at last.

Max, eyes on the horizon, took a deep breath. “Let’s wait here a little longer. Is that alright?”

Gavriil only nodded. He faced the view, too, remembering their childhood as if three others still stood beside them.

…

Max unconsciously touched his necklace, recalling the warmth he had felt with Gavriil last night. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, which was new to him since he usually filled his head with more trivial matters.

“Master, can you hear me?” a voice cut in, and Max blinked, his thoughts scattering.

He looked up to see his butler, Étienne, watching him in the rearview mirror. Étienne was waiting for an answer. Max realized he had missed the question.

Seeing his confused, embarrassed look, Étienne sighed. “Are you thinking about that boy who drove you home last night?”

Max was startled, but before he could defend himself—which was difficult, given his expression—Étienne sighed again. “The address you sent me. I was asking if you wrote it wrong.”

Max cleared his throat and pulled out his phone to double-check. “No, this is the address. It’s exactly what Jacob gave me.”

Étienne pulled to the curb and glanced back. “Well then, we’re here.”

“W-What?” Max looked out the window, surprised by the street before them. Trash was scattered here and there. Most buildings were old, some covered in graffiti and posters. A homeless man lay on the ground, hands outstretched to passersby for spare change.

“Wait, this is the address, but…” Max didn’t even wait for Étienne. He stepped out to get a better look.

Étienne cursed and hurried after him, noting a group of men near a dark alley watching them like they were preparing an ambush.

“M-Master Leigh, I suggest you stay in the car,” Étienne said, moving to Max’s side.

“Don’t be silly, it’s broad daylight. No one would do something stupid at this hour,” Max said confidently.

But Étienne was also confident that people hiding in dark alleys had no specific schedule when committing a crime, especially when there’s a million-dollar car parked on the side of the street.

Max ignored his butler’s worry and studied the old four-story building ahead. Without a hint of fear, he walked toward it.

Étienne wanted to protest, but he sighed and followed.

“Maybe you should go back to the car. I’ll look for Mr. Mills myself,” Étienne suggested as they continued down the sidewalk.

“No, we’ll find it eventually. You don’t have to be so stressed about it, Étienne. I’m a Lemieux. I always find a way.”

Étienne sighed, but he no longer argued with his stubborn master.

Max continued searching while Étienne swept his eyes over every possible movement, making sure no one got too close. But as they were walking, they passed a homeless man.

The man extended his arm toward Max. Étienne instinctively grabbed Max’s arm and pulled him away, but Max glared at his butler, and he was instantly released.

“Please spare me some change, sir,” the old man said.

Max smiled and turned to Étienne, who pulled a wad of cash from his coat—about £100. He then handed it to the man, who stared at it with disbelief.

“It’s real. Spend it wisely,” Max told him.

“T-Thank you…kind sir,” the man said, and Max smiled back.

Before walking away, Max knelt in front of him, his smile almost uncanny. “By the way, do you happen to know a man named Charles Justin Mills? He has a business here.”

As soon as Max said the name, the other people who had been stealing glances were now watching them intently. Étienne raised his guard. It had been confirmed that CJ was here, but by the looks of it, people around here weren’t huge fans.

“Mr. Charles…” the man said, obviously familiar with the name.

Max’s smile grew.

“Yes, him. Do you know where he is?”

“He told me before that if anyone was looking for him, I should tell them to leave,” he said, looking down at the cash Max had given him. “But you don’t look like someone who’s here to cause trouble.”

The old man was hesitant for a second before finally giving in, “Sir Charles owns the building behind me. He comes every evening, around 10 p.m. He brings me a meal every time.”

Max was surprised. At least CJ wasn’t totally heartless.

“10 p.m.?” Max checked his watch, sighing when he saw it was only 9:30 a.m. “Thank you, sir,” he said, and looked to Étienne. “We’ll have to come back later. Let’s go.”

They were about to return to the car when a cab pulled up behind them. A woman stepped out, pointed at Max, and blurted, “S-Sinclaire?”

Max and Étienne exchanged a look, then faced her.

“I’m sorry, but…do I know you?” Max asked.

The cab pulled away. Holding a large box, the woman chuckled awkwardly. “N-No, sorry. It’s just—I helped Master Charles erase an article about you before. I’m assuming you must be a close friend of his.”

Max was surprised, then remembered their deal. This must have been the woman who cleared his articles.

He was tempted to apologize since her hard work had been undone when he released his statement and became the national headline, but he forced a smile instead. “Yes, we are. I’m grateful CJ tried to erase the article for my sake, but I forgot to tell him I’d address it myself. It was better that way.”

“So that’s why he was so angry,” the woman said. “Oh, I’m Rosemary, by the way. I’m Master Charles’s secretary. I’d shake your hand, but as you can see…”

Max nudged Étienne, who stepped forward to take the box from her.

“Thank you, Sir,” Rosemary said with a sweet smile.

Max kept his polite smile, waiting for her to take a hint. Rosemary wasn’t sure what they wanted, but then her eyes widened. “Oh, how rude of me. Please, come inside. I’ll call the Master and tell him you’re here.”

Max’s smile broadened as they followed her into the old building. He had not been sure how he would get in, but this was definitely a jackpot.

“ I told you. I always find a way, “ Max whispered to Étienne.

“I apologize if you had to wait outside. Our employees arrive at night. Lucky you that I came at this hour, since I have a few documents to finish,” Rosemary said, fishing out a key to open the main door.

Inside, Max looked around in disbelief. He didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but he could hardly believe this was CJ’s company.

He didn’t pity or mock him for it. In fact, he was impressed. Starting a company while your family stood against you took guts, and CJ obviously had those in gallons.

“So…your master, CJ, how is he?” Max asked as he and Étienne followed her down the corridor.

“Master Charles? He’s quite scary and unpredictable,” Rosemary answered.

Max wasn’t surprised.

“You know, I’m actually ten years older than him, but the master has this very intimidating presence. There are also times that I can’t tolerate him, but he’s the only employer who took me in,” Rosemary added.

When Max looked like he wanted to know more about it, she continued, “I actually have a criminal case. Nothing crazy though, just theft. It was for my mom, who was in the hospital. I know, stealing isn’t the answer, but…that hit me real good. If not for Master Charles, I wouldn’t have a job now.”

“Wow,” was the only thing Max could say. 

“Master Charles is still just a kid, and he could be stupid at times, but he’s really young to be handling a business on his own. The fact that he’s keeping us afloat is impressive.”

“He sounds like a great president.”

“Well, maybe not that great.”

They entered an elevator that had probably been operating since the 60s. As the doors closed, Max asked, “How is the company holding up? Is CJ able to pay everyone?”

“Due to some unfortunate circumstances, not very well. Most of our tobacco products go to waste because no one will invest. Despite that, the Master pays us well. That’s why most of us stay,” Rosemary answered.

The elevator doors opened, and the secretary led them to an office.

“You can wait here while I call the Master. I’ll bring tea,” she said, taking the box back from Étienne and stepping out.

Max looked around and saw CJ’s nameplate on the desk. On one side, a broken television hung on the wall, as if someone had hurled something at it, causing the screen to crack.

“I wasn’t expecting much from CJ with how he acts in school,” Max said, taking a seat on the sofa, “but he’s actually a good company president.”

Étienne said nothing, standing with his hands behind his back.

“If the company weren’t owned by the Lemieuxs, I might have considered starting mine like this. It wouldn’t matter where. It could be smaller than this, or just a room with five people,” Max said, scanning the office.

“This CJ boy is quite brave to start this by himself. He must have a strong character,” Étienne said, and Max chuckled.

“You bet. His entire personality is built around a steel box. It’s unbreakable.”

After a few minutes, the door opened. Rosemary entered with a tray of hot tea. “I apologize for the wait and for the lack of tea options. We don’t get many visitors,” she said, placing the tray on the table.

“Please stop apologizing. We came unannounced and at an inconvenient time. We should be the ones apologizing,” Max said sincerely, causing Rosemary to look flustered.

“N-No, not at all, Sir! Someone of your standing deserves the absolute best!” she insisted.

Max wanted to laugh, but then it hit him. The secretary thought he was there to invest.

Even if Max wanted to, he no longer had any company to back him up. But he was there to help in other ways, so accepting the hospitality won’t hurt.

“Thank you then.”

“No problem,” Rosemary answered. “The Master said he’ll come as soon as he’s done with an important meeting. For now…” She hurried to CJ’s desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a folder. “He said you can look at this while you wait,” she said, handing the document to Max.

It seemed like someone had told CJ about Max’s declaration at the party. And knowing CJ, he’d definitely take the offer. He wasn’t prideful or stupid enough to let such an opportunity pass.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in the room next door,” Rosemary said, bowing before she left.

Max opened the folder and found documents on their projects, sales, investments—everything.

“Kings Tobacco Company,” he read. “Established two years ago. Founders: Charles Justin Mills and—” He blinked at the co-founder’s name. “Anthony Rockefeller.”

Étienne furrowed his brows. He did not know Anthony like Max did.

Anthony was CJ’s right-hand man. During the time when they were Max’s homeboys, Anthony was the first to beat their leader up. Krist and the others mentioned that when CJ formed Cigarettes, they had no clue how CJ acquired his members. 

But now it was made clear. They were business partners.

“They launched their products a year ago, but without legitimate investors, the launch failed. They sold a bit in local stores around here, but it’s not enough to make a name,” Max said, reviewing the charts.

“If I’d done this while I was still the heir to Sinclaire Corp., I could have secured an investment in a snap. With my situation now, it won’t be easy. Chairman Christopher is also blocking large companies from associating with Kings Tobacco. If people find out CJ owns it, they won’t risk it.”

“So what do we do?” Étienne asked. “If we can’t secure a big investor, all this will be for nothing.”

“I’d use my own money if I had to, but that won’t change anything. I can’t invest without our company backing me. My name alone won’t spark a serious discussion. The company would become a laughingstock if I did that. Imagine the headlines,” Max said, and Étienne nodded.

Max stared at the files, thinking.

“All my friends are only heirs, so it’d be hard to ask their help. They still don’t control their companies,” he said, thinking of Hans, Felix, and even Cindy.

Max bit his lower lip, thinking. When he thought all hope was lost, something suddenly came to him like a vision.

“Wait. I know someone known as the Queen of Business Strategies. I bet she can help us.”

“Queen of Business Strategies? Who?” Étienne asked.

With a wide smile, Max stood from the sofa and answered, “Crème de la Crème’s rank nine…Scarlet Romano. Who else would it be?”

|END|

NOTE: Just a quick heads-up. You might notice a few comments missing. Sorry about that! I usually only take down ones that include spoilers or details that haven’t shown up yet in the chapters.

Spoilers happen (we’ve all been there!) But if you’re going to drop one, adding a little warning helps a ton. That way, new readers can dive in without surprises. Thanks so much for keeping the story fun for everyone!

87 | Secret Meeting

♞

CJ STARED AT HIS phone, rereading the message his secretary had sent him earlier. He chuckled, surprised that Max had actually gone to his company despite how his father, Chairman Christopher, had treated him at the party the night before.

News of Max’s declaration had spread like wildfire. Even CJ received hundreds of messages from associates. They couldn’t believe that the great Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire was willing to assist the “vanished son,” Charles Justin Mills.

CJ was excited, of course, since this would benefit him more than Max. But first, he had to handle something else.

“Master Charles, we’re here,” his driver said, and CJ looked out the window at the large gates of J.S. High.

He wore a formal suit, with the Cigarettes logo and his crown brooch pinned to his collar, even though he wasn’t in their black uniform. The car rolled through as the guards opened the gates. Since it was Sunday, there were no students around. The campus lay quiet and empty, making it feel as if everything that happened at J.S. High was only some kind of illusion.

The driver parked by the Hall of Janus, where other cars were lined up. CJ checked his watch and sighed. The driver stepped out to open his door.

“I’ll message you when the meeting is over,” CJ said as he stepped out and headed inside the building without waiting for a reply.

Silence swallowed the corridor. The only sound came from his footsteps. He had walked this hallway hundreds of times, but the emptiness made it feel unfamiliar. No students ran about, and nothing drifted from the Great Hall. J.S. High had always been a big school, but only when it was empty could one feel its vastness.

“How boring,” CJ muttered, hands in his pockets.

After a few more steps, he reached a hidden elevator with a thumbprint scanner and a small screen. He pressed his thumb to it, and the screen flashed his face and the Cigarettes logo. The doors slid open, and CJ stepped in, tapping the only button that sent the elevator down.

Few students knew that J.S. High had a secret underground area accessible only to Brotherhood leaders. They used it for important, private matters—so private that even the Elites were not allowed inside.

When the elevator stopped and opened, a large glass window greeted him, revealing a separate, warehouse-like room beyond. Inside were the various Battle Grounds, and a label that said  Ground Station. This is where the grounds are designed and assembled, and where they rose into the stadium.

CJ walked toward the glass and spotted several men working on a ground he didn’t recognize. As he watched, a voice called out.

“You actually came. I thought you’d be too busy,” the voice said.

CJ turned to see the Master Joker, Krist, approaching with a grin.

“Master Joker, it’s definitely not nice to see you this early,” CJ said. “It ruined my mood for some reason.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Krist shot back, and they started toward the meeting room.

“So, when were you going to tell us you started your own company?” Krist asked. “I’m a bit disappointed our little toy found out first.”

CJ arched a brow, unsure whether Krist was being sarcastic.

When Krist saw the reaction, he laughed. “I’m kidding. We’re not close friends anymore for you to tell us these things, isn’t that right?”

“MJ I—”

Krist’s expression hardened as he adjusted Jokers’ brooch on his collar. “What Max did to you in the Great Hall was out of line, but if it were me, I wouldn’t care. I just hope it was enough to shake your useless brain for once.”

CJ gave him a warning look but said nothing.

“We weren’t the ones who pushed you away, CJ. Remember that,” Krist said, then broke off and walked ahead.

CJ sighed, watching him go. He had said nothing when he first began avoiding them, and he chose silence again. This was not the time to defend himself. It was too late for that.

He reached the double doors engraved with the Brotherhood Association’s crest and fixed his suit and brooches. With a serious expression, he opened them, finally revealing the leaders of the five Brotherhood Houses.

“Let us all give a round of applause to Mr. Mills for being early as usual,” Hans de Vries—the duke and leader of the rank 3 brotherhood Boys Next Door—said sarcastically as CJ closed the door.

The meeting room held a circular table with ten seats, each bearing a brotherhood’s logo. In the center were two lions and a sword, known to everyone as the Brotherhood’s crest. Three large screens also surrounded the room, giving a perfect view for everyone seated.

“Pleasant morning,” CJ replied with a grin, eyeing everyone in the room. 

The leaders and house representatives were already there. First-class soldier Augusto Casares , leader of rank 23 brotherhood Titans and representative of the House of Pawns, rose and gave CJ a sharp salute.

“Good morning, Count,” Captain Benedikt Leitz , leader of rank 18 brotherhood Jack of All Trades and representative of the House of Rooks, said, also saluting.

Chandler Heptinstall , leader of rank 14 brotherhood, the Gallants, and titled knight commander, stood, touched his chest, and bowed.

CJ nodded to acknowledge their greeting, and everyone sat back down. He then made for his assigned seat beside the Baron—Krist Hyusen—since their ranks were adjacent.

As mentioned before, the thirty official brotherhoods spanned the five houses, each with its own titles.

In the House of Pawns (ranks 23–30), there are no white uniforms. All students belonged to brotherhoods. However, only eight are recognized as the strongest, giving them the title of  soldiers. The eight are then classified by class, which depends on their ranking; hence, Augusto is called the First-class soldier.

In the House of Rooks (ranks 22–18), brotherhoods are called the captains , with specific rank-based titles. These titles are  Corporals at rank 22, Sergeants, First Lieutenants, Second Lieutenants , and, at the top, rank 18, the Captains.

In the House of Knights (ranks 17–14), similar to the House of Rooks, the brotherhoods are called knights. But inside, they have specific titles according to rank. These titles are Knight Lieutenants , Knight Captains, Knight Majors , and Chandler’s title, Knight Commander.

The House of Bishops (ranks 13–7), the second-strongest, only has one title for all their brotherhoods, and that’s  Lords. Though they only have one title, students informally dubbed them the school’s seven deadly sins, which are lords of lust, lords of gluttony, lords of greed, and so on.

Lastly, the House of Kings (ranks 6–1) uses the titles barons, counts, marquis, dukes, princes , and kings .

These titles formed the Brotherhood Monarchy , which everyone greatly follows. It’s the spine of all five houses.

“You must have been busy, Sir Mills,” a soft voice said from CJ’s left.

Siren, the Marquis and leader of rank 4 brotherhood Crazy 8, wore a suit without the coat, revealing the dark red vest over a black shirt, and, as always, Crazy 8’s mask.

“I wouldn’t say busy,” CJ said, leaning close enough to catch Siren’s perfume. “But even if I were, just tell me you want my company, and I’ll clear my entire schedule for you.”

Siren smirked, amused at the flirtatious attempt. “I’m flattered,” they said before gently touching CJ’s chest. Siren then moved closer…and suddenly shoved the count so hard he almost slipped off his seat.

Laughter rippled around the table.

“Don’t even try it, CJ, or you’ll start hearing sirens,” Hans warned.

“But isn’t he used to it?” another voice tossed in, causing Hans to laugh again while Krist and the others chuckled on the side.

The person who spoke was Lord of Pride,   Uchdryd Rease , leader of the rank 7 brotherhood Checkmate and representative of the House of Bishops. Unlike the representatives from the lower houses, Uchdryd was the only leader who was able to joke around with the leaders of J.S. High.

“No one’s asking for your opinion, Rease,” CJ barked.

“Did I ask?” Uchdryd answered back.

Before the two could clash  again, the door opened, revealing another leader for the House of Kings—Prince Kim Hee-joon, leader of the rank 2 brotherhood Pretty, Hot & Dangerous.

Leaders from CJ down to Augusto stood to show respect, while Hans and Siren remained seated.

Joon, looking as though he had been forced to attend, ignored the greeting and slouched into his seat marked with PHD’s logo. The others sat right after.

The atmosphere in the room drastically changed the moment he arrived. Leaders began to awkwardly glance at each other, pulling out their phones so they could pretend they were busy. Joon noticed and sighed.

“Continue. I’m not going to shoot you for talking,” Joon said. His eyes landed on Benedikt, and the captain flinched and looked away, almost making CJ laugh.

“Honestly, we wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Krist muttered under his breath. Fortunately, Joon did not hear.

“Where’s Viktor?” Hans asked with annoyance. “If he’s not aware, we don’t have all the free time in the world as he does.”

Joon glared at the jab. The tension rose, and the leaders prepared for the worst. But after a breath, Joon composed himself. “He’s not coming. Tanis will lead the meeting,” he answered.

Everyone in the room was visibly surprised, even the lower-ranked leaders. Viktor hadn’t been going to school for days now.

“Then where the hell is—”

On cue, the doors opened, revealing King Tanis Hendrix, temporary leader of rank 1 brotherhood Busters.

Everyone, including Hee-joon, stood and bowed. Tanis wore casual clothes and a pair of black shades. His long, platinum-white hair was also tied in a messy bun. He hardly looked rank 1, but his presence alone made up for it.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said.

“Good morning, Tanis.”

“Take your seats.”

Only when he sat did anyone else follow.

Without wasting any more of their time, Tanis slid off his shades, revealing light-brown, serpentine eyes. Like Joon, he looked like he was forced to be there, but he tried to show up despite his uninterest. They were all gathered for something serious.

“Alright, I don’t want to waste time. Let’s begin,” Tanis said. The lights dimmed, and the screens lit with the Brotherhood Association logo.

“We’re here because of an anonymous message the association received a week ago. The investigation team has tried to trace the sender but hasn’t succeeded.”

“What’s the message?” Chandler asked.

Tanis shifted. “A cryptic warning that a huge storm will fall upon the great houses. It might not be worth panicking yet, but we can’t brush it off, considering what happened before.”

“You mean the bombing at our base?” Hans asked, still bitter about the greenhouse attack that injured Max and one of his members.

“That’s right.” An image of BND’s wrecked base filled the screens.

“Rumors say it’s connected to Maximilian Sinclaire’s family affairs. They say he was the real target,” Augusto opened up, drawing sharp looks from Krist and Hans.

Agusto felt the warning and cleared his throat. “O-Of course, that’s just a rumor.”

“There was also a rumor that it was because he participated in Mr. Brains & Brawn. That’s what Viktor believed,” Joon added. “Reasons may vary, but it’s clear Sinclaire was the target. Nothing like this has happened to our houses before. It only started as soon as he enrolled at J.S. High.”

No one contradicted him on that. Not even Krist or Hans.

“It’s even more suspicious because we’ve had no updates,” Siren said. “It makes it seem like President Janus is hiding something. Could it be because Sinclaire is his nephew?”

“Let’s not stack more rumors,” Tanis quickly intervened, massaging his temple. “Whatever the reason, one thing is certain…we let it happen. J.S. High has the best security among the houses, yet we allowed a bomber in without a trace. It could happen to the lower houses, too, so the message must be taken seriously.”

Eyes circled the table and returned to Tanis.

“What do we do?” CJ asked.

Tanis clicked on something on the table, and the screens switched to the five student council logos.

“For this message, everyone is to be cautious and conduct investigations using all available resources. The sender must be a student from one of our houses. We will review everything with discretion, and that means we’re allowed to suspect each other and other brotherhoods as well,” Tanis explained, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Other than that, we’ll need their help,” he continued, gesturing to the screen.

Everyone looked back at the screens and stared at the five logos that flashed in front of them. The house’s Supreme Student Council:

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/92c8b9db084765193ac27fbea427bc45f57d04d4/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f62374532635847424572476c76773d3d2d313133313438373934392e313861653731333932396565346337333839303937383934343138372e676966)               

J.S. HIGH: ELITES

ST. GEORGE ACADEMY: SAINTS 

D & F HIGH SCHOOL: NOBLES

ROLAND’S SCHOOL FOR BOYS: STEWARDS

THOMAS L. HIGH SCHOOL: GENERALS

“We all know the student councils are the brotherhoods’ direct partners,” Tanis said. “They hold authority over white uniforms and are the only groups with power equal to ours.”

“It makes sense to involve them,” Krist agreed.

Tanis nodded and clicked again. Pictures of the five school representatives appeared on screen.

“Viktor and I discussed this beforehand, and we decided that right after the Annual Brotherhood Reranking, we’ll exchange school representatives,” the king declared.

Everyone instantly reacted.

“Exchange school reps? Are you serious?” Uchdryd asked in disbelief.

“We’re letting council members from other houses stay in ours?” someone complained.

“Won’t that cause problems?” another muttered.

Voices piled up until Tanis slammed the table. “Alright, listen up!” he shouted, and everyone instantly stopped talking.

“The exchange will last a month. The purpose is for school reps to observe other houses and report back to their councils. We’re doing this because when something goes wrong, the brotherhoods get blamed while the student councils are excluded. As we observe each other to find a possible suspect, the councils must do the same.”

“So the reps will observe the house and the council, looking for anyone suspicious enough to have sent that message?” Benedikt clarified, and Tanis nodded.

The group began discussing who would exchange with whom. But while everyone else was busy, Krist looked back at the screen and stared at the picture of J.S. High’s representative.

“So for the Elites, it’s Justin Griffiths,” he murmured.

CJ overheard him and smirked. “Well, that is if he’s still ranked fifth by the end of the term.”

Krist frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We still have a few months left. A lot can change, especially the Elites. Who knows, someone more interesting might end up representing us,” CJ said.

Krist’s eyes widened as the implication hit. “Are you suggesting it could be someone like Max?”

CJ chuckled and didn’t answer directly. “Could be…but wouldn’t that be fun? We’d be sending the same boy directly affected by the bombing. If this is connected to him, something’s bound to happen either way. That benefits our house more than anything.”

Krist swallowed and looked again at J.S. High’s representative.

As much as he hated agreeing with someone like CJ, he couldn’t help it. It would take a miracle for Max to skyrocket to rank five and pierce the Elites in only a few months. After all, no one has ever done it before.

But then again, this was Max they’re talking about. And if anyone ever needed a miracle, they could definitely count on him.

|END|

88 | Different Flavors

♞

CJ STEPPED OUT OF his car holding a coffee cup. As his driver closed the door for him, he instantly spotted the homeless old man who had been there since before he bought the building two years ago. “Working hard today again, Grover?” he asked with a charming smile before handing him the coffee.

The man named Grover happily took the cup and showed CJ the wad of cash he received from Max earlier.

“A very rich-looking man came by looking for you. He even gave me this. If I’d known he’d be that generous, I should have just asked for a job,” he managed to joke.

“Seriously? I’ve been offering you a security-guard position for months, and you always decline me. Do I look too broke for you?” CJ asked, and Grover laughed and brushed him away.

“Alright, I’ll see you later, Grover.”

CJ headed inside his empty building, the soft expression on his face changing into something more serious. There weren’t any people in the building yet, since they usually operated during the night. Max was just a special case.

“Why do people always work so early?” CJ complained, yawning.

He stepped into the small elevator that took him to the top floor. As soon as the doors opened, he saw his secretary about to enter his office.

“Master Charles!”

CJ stepped out of the elevator, and Rosemary immediately ran to him to give a respectable bow.

“Where is he?” CJ asked instead of acknowledging the greeting. He didn’t need to specify whom he meant, but his secretary straightened and gestured toward his office.

“They’re waiting inside,” she told him.

“They?” he asked, raising his right eyebrow.

Rosemary didn’t answer as CJ pushed into the room without another word. As soon as he got inside, he spotted Max and his butler, Étienne, seated on the sofa, piles of papers and folders scattered on the table before them.

“Am I somehow disturbing you?” CJ asked when neither Max nor Étienne noticed him come in.

Max stopped what he was doing and looked up. “CJ…you’re finally here.”

CJ didn’t reply to him. Instead, he looked at Étienne.

“He’s my butler,” Max introduced when he noticed the count staring.

CJ’s expression turned bitter. “I know.”

Max was confused by the unwelcoming response, but Étienne suddenly stood and faced his master. “I’ll wait for you in the car, Master Leigh.”

“What? You can stay here and—”

Without letting Max finish, Étienne left the room, completely ignoring CJ, which made CJ roll his eyes in annoyance. Max looked back at CJ, puzzled. “Do you know my butler? Because it’s obvious you don’t seem fond of him.”

“I just don’t like people older than twenty-five,” CJ answered, an obvious lie, but perhaps also true, considering how blunt he could be.

Before the atmosphere could sour further, CJ took a breath and sat where Étienne had been. “Would you mind?” he asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

“No,” Max answered.

CJ lit a stick, inhaled, and, as the smoke eased him, asked, “So, have you found enough evidence to send me to jail?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Max immediately defended. “You instructed your secretary to hand me these, so don’t act like I’m snooping around.”

“You’re way too easy to tease. It’s amazing,” CJ said with a grin.

Max glared, ready to argue, but he held it in. “Since you’re here, let’s not waste time. I’m not sure if you already know this, but your company is moments away from bankruptcy. The numbers say you have at least a month to salvage this. If not, you’ll be in debt, considering you asked the bank for a large loan.”

CJ drew on his cigarette and picked up one of the folders. He opened to a chart of last month’s sales.

A low “Hmm…” was all he offered.

He exhaled and tossed the folder back onto the table, irritating Max.

“Excuse me, Mr. CEO, but am I the only one concerned here? Or do you secretly have millions hidden somewhere, and that’s why you’re so complacent?” Max asked.

CJ chuckled. “No. I’m dead broke. Don’t worry.”

“Then how the hell do you even pay for J.S. High’s insanely expensive tuition?”

“I don’t,” CJ answered, exhaling smoke. “Brotherhood leaders automatically get scholarships, so the fees are free. Most are too ashamed to accept and still pay in full. I, on the other hand, won’t throw away free things. They’re free, after all.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Are you going to give up then?” he suddenly asked.

The question surprised—and irritated—Max. “I only just started. What makes you think I’m giving up now? After everything I told your father, I won’t make a fool of myself. I’m going to help you, and I’m going to prove him wrong.”

Silence settled, then CJ smirked and blew the smoke away from Max. Can this boy really become part of the Elites? He’s as tough and strong-willed as a brotherhood leader. It’s almost a shame, he thought before saying, “You really are too easy to tease, little Maxy.”

“What do you mean I’m—” Max stopped when CJ pulled the cigarette from his mouth and handed it to him.

“Try it. It’s our product. You smoke, right?”

Max eyed the stick, then glanced at the pack on the table. It was the same brand CJ had used when they made their deal before. He took the cigarette and drew in. An icy feeling slipped into his mouth, and the cold instantly soothed him.

How could hot smoke feel so cold?

“It’s our Prince flavor. As low as our sales are, that one sells the most,” CJ explained. “When I created it, I remembered how I take cold showers when I’m stressed. Cold showers increase endorphins, the feel-good part of the brain that eases anxiety and depressive symptoms. I applied that concept to the cigarette.”

Max couldn’t help being impressed. The taste and sensation were good enough that he finished it.

Exhaling the last stream, he asked, “You made this? On your own?”

CJ chuckled like it was nothing. “I grew up in the cigarette business. It’s what I know best. Are you impressed?”

“Of course I am,” Max replied without pretense. “This is a deal-breaker. It’s different from the common cigarettes that even the Mills releases.”

“I’m flattered.”

Max reached for the pack and studied it. “You call the company Kings Tobacco, and this is Prince flavored.” The icy-blue packaging gleamed. As he stared, his eyes widened. “You were inspired by J.S High. You named this after Kim Hee-joon, since he’s considered the Ice Prince, didn’t you?”

CJ grinned at Max’s realization and got up. He walked to his desk and pulled three more packs before setting them before Max on the table.

“Those are the other flavors.”

Max stared at the pack, almost letting a smile slip when he saw the other names: Baron, Marquis, and Duke flavor.

While Max examined them, CJ explained, “The baron flavor has bubblegum notes, so it’s sweet. Club owners buy it since the sweetness helps when you’re drunk. Marquis is fruity, with what some say is a cocktail aftertaste. Duke is our second bestseller, the classic tobacco. That’s why I also call it the gentleman’s cigar.”

“Very clever,” Max said, smelling each.

“Krist and the others said you were the one who distanced yourself and purposely forgot them, but I don’t think that’s the case,” he added truthfully.

CJ didn’t comment.

After testing them one by one, Max sipped the tea Rosemary had brought. “They’re interesting, but…” He paused, and CJ got ready for criticism. “They all smell unfamiliar. When you made a deal with me, there wasn’t anything like that here.”

CJ smirked, surprised Max remembered the scent. “That was the Count flavor. My personal favorite. We haven’t produced much yet since we’re still doing a few tweaks with the formula.”

“And what kind of flavor would the count be after it’s done?” Max asked.

CJ’s smirk widened as he leaned in. “It’s a flavor that feels hotter than normal. It warms your body in an instant, one that’s good to smoke before sex,” he answered, but Max didn’t budge.

The dry response made CJ pout.

“You’re no fun,” he complained.

Max ignored it and looked back at the packs. He could see a path forward. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Mr. Mills…you did great with this. Your father’s the one stopping you from bringing out its potential.”

CJ smiled, quietly pleased.

“Now that I know your company has something to offer, I want to introduce you to a friend. She’s one of the best strategists of our generation, and I’m sure she’ll help us,” Max said.

CJ slid the pack and lighter back into his pocket. “Don’t you think it’s too early to introduce me to your friends?” he joked.

Max rolled his eyes and stood. “I guess that’s all for today. Thank you for your time.”

While Max was getting ready to leave, CJ drew a breath and pulled his necktie. “Hey…” he called out without looking back at Max. “Thanks.”

Max froze, almost cleaning his ear to make sure he’d heard right. “What did you just say?” he asked, turning back.

CJ didn’t dodge this time. He met Max’s eyes, serious and sincere. “Thank you.”

Max gulped. He had never seen that expression on CJ. It left him conflicted.

“D-Don’t be stupid,” Max said, fussing with his coat to distract himself. After clearing his throat, he added, “But you’re welcome. And thank you, too, for getting me that invite. Even though it wasn’t how I expected, I still talked to your father. I’m a step closer to regaining my inheritance.”

CJ chuckled, but this time, he didn’t tease him anymore.

“I’d say I’m glad you enjoyed the party, but I heard you ran away with the vice president right after talking to my father. It’s surprising since I didn’t expect you two to be the ‘let’s run away together’ type,” CJ said, nearly making Max choke.

It didn’t really concern him, but he hadn’t expected anyone to see him leave with Gavriil. Now he felt oddly shy about it.

“He’s a close friend of mine,” Max answered, which was a lie that was also, somehow, true. They were childhood friends, and Max could confidently say that they’re comfortable enough to be friends again. But saying they’re close friends is a little stretch.

“Is that so?” CJ asked. Max thought he’d drop it, but then the count added, “I don’t want to be that guy, but since we’re helping each other, let me warn you that he’s bad news, so you better be cautious. That’s serious advice, considering it’s coming from someone like me.”

Max blinked. He unconsciously sat again. “What do you mean?”

Now that he’d heard it, there was no way he was leaving without answers.

“Don’t you know?” CJ asked, pulling out his cigarette and lighter again. When he saw Max’s furrowed brows, he chuckled. “Oh. You probably didn’t.”

He lit up and said, “I’ve known this a long time. The Mills family is one of the biggest with hidden stocks. In the past, only one family truly matched us, and that’s the Alexeevs.”

“Alexeevs? You mean Gavriil’s family?”

“That’s right. Other than the Mills, the Alexeev family held some of the largest hidden stocks in the world,” CJ said, and Max suddenly understood why Gavriil had been the first to tell him about the Mills’ hidden stocks. He knew because he’d been one of them, too.

“They were a big deal, but a few years ago they just…disappeared. Completely vanished. No one has heard from them since, and their name died down. That’s why no one knows the Elites’ vice president. I think I was the only one genuinely surprised to see him enroll at J.S High.”

Max touched his necklace. No wonder Gavriil hadn’t wanted to talk about his family.

“This may seem strange, but do you know what his relationship is with Viktor?” Max asked.

CJ inhaled, exhaled slowly, and stared at the ceiling. “Gavriil and Viktor? Not really. I do know about Viktor and Hee-joon’s relationship. Heard someone caught them ki—”

“N-No! Not that kind of relationship, you idiot,” Max cut in, making CJ laugh. He had known what Max meant and was only teasing.

“I don’t know much about them. My Ashes sometimes tell me they secretly meet at school,” CJ said at last.

“Then could they be helping each other, considering both their families fell?” Max asked. They were childhood friends, but unlike Max, both remembered everything. Their bond might have held.

“I doubt it,” CJ said, exhaling.

Max was about to ask why when CJ added, “The Alexeev family was a military-weapons company. They manufactured different guns, tanks—you name it. With what they specialize in, I don’t think Viktor would want any part of it.”

“Why? What do they specialize in?” Max asked, suddenly nervous.

CJ finished his cigarette, ground it out, and met Max’s eyes with a grave look.

“Bombs,” he answered. “They specialize in making bombs. It’s what made the Alexeev family one of the most powerful in the world.”

|END|

89 | The Monarchs

♞

“BOMBS. THEY SPECIALIZED IN making bombs. It’s what made the Alexeev family one of the most powerful in the world,” CJ finally revealed, and the room fell silent.

Max thought everything stopped for a second, but as the information sank in, his stomach churned. He immediately stood and covered his mouth, as if he were about to vomit.

CJ dropped his cigarette and rose, shock and worry on his face. “Whoa, are you all right? Did I say something wrong?”

Max couldn’t answer. He tried to steady his breathing as his chest hammered and a rush of emotions crashed through him like a tsunami.

“It’s our little secret, Leigh. Friendships weren’t always made to last ,” he suddenly remembered—a female voice, taunting. He bent and vomited on the floor. He clutched the desk for support, certain he might faint.

Still confused by the reaction, CJ was about to approach him. But as he got close, Max pushed him away in an instant.

Max wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at CJ apologetically. “I-I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“W-What? Wait…Max—”

Before CJ could stop him, Max ran out and slammed the door, leaving CJ speechless.

CJ looked around the room like a lost kid, then leaned on his desk and covered his mouth, dazed by how quickly it had escalated. He brushed his fingers through his hair, stared up at the ceiling, and murmured, “Something’s not adding up…” His hand found the brooch on his collar. “President Cullen…what the hell did you do to those three?”

…

The bell rang, and the white uniforms rushed to their rooms so they wouldn’t be caught by their teachers or any members of the Elites.

One boy, however, walked down the hallway as if he weren’t late at all. Students rushed around him, and it was inevitable that someone would bump him since he was strolling down the middle.

“Hey! Move, you fucking slowpoke!” a white uniform shouted. He turned, ready to argue, but then nearly stumbled back at the menacing look on the other boy’s face.

The student he had bumped was a third-year gaffer. The white uniform thought he was going to get punched, but then the gaffer’s expression changed from menacing to charming in one snap.

“Sorry. I’m a bit tired, so I don’t have the energy to run,” the gaffer said.

“N-No…it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking,” the fourth-year dweller stammered. He then bowed and fled before things could get worse.

The gaffer’s smile vanished, his expression turning back to irritation. 

“How dare he touch me?” he muttered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dust the shoulder the dweller had brushed. Afterward, he headed for the Hall of Caelus, where the second-year classes were housed. Though he was a third-year, the music room was there.

When he entered the music room, which looked more like a recording studio than a classroom, three white uniforms looked up. One was tuning his bass, another had headphones on, and the third twirled drumsticks between his fingers.

“Wow, look who finally decided to join practice,” the bassist said, eyeing the newcomer. “Our manager’s been looking for you, Axel. You know how he gets when we piss him off.”

The gaffer sighed and flung his bag onto the sofa. “Our manager can jump off a cliff for all I care. He’s milking us like a cash cow and thinks we don’t notice.”

The drummer and bassist laughed.

Axel Jean Dumont—third-year gaffer and vocalist of J.S High’s famous band, the Monarchs.

They had first appeared during the school’s initial House assembly, performing to cut the tension in the stadium. The Monarchs were a sensation even outside J.S High. Each member had a massive following. But the brightest star was Axel, a handsome, charismatic frontman with an extraordinary voice…who also would rather hole up writing songs than indulge fans.

“One more gig and I’m quitting,” Axel complained. “Do you know what I went through after last night? Everyone was sweaty and smelly, hugging me and taking pictures. I had to shower three times.”

“You’re being overdramatic again. Don’t you think, Jaehyuk ?” the bassist asked.

Jaehyuk, the lead guitarist, slipped off his headset and nodded.

Axel slumped beside him on the sofa, annoyed. “My father is one of the most famous producers in the country, and my mother is one of the best singers in the world, performing in the biggest events and the biggest stadiums. But what do I get? An underground basement and hippies who act like listening to a band is a personality,” he complained, making the bassist laugh even harder.

“If you want to be popular so badly, ask your parents for help,” the drummer suggested.

“I haven’t fallen far enough to use the famous-parent privilege card.”

“Then work hard and suck it up. If we fail, we fail. I only learned bass because you wanted to form a fucking band back when we were freshmen. If we disband, I won’t cry about it. My family has a company I can go back to anyway,” the bassist said.

“I can agree with that,” the drummer added, pointing a drumstick at Jaehyuk. “But not Jaehyuk. His dad’s a guitar legend. He was born to be in a band.”

“Believe me, I’d rather chop my hands off than be a guitarist like my father,” Jaehyuk muttered, and they all—Axel included—laughed.

Axel finally loosened up and stood. “All right. We started this. We might as well make it work.”

“That’s more like it!” the bassist cheered.

Jaehyuk stood too and slung on his electric guitar. Axel took a sip of water and stepped to the microphone. “ Heaven , we’re performing at the Great Hall again, right?“

Heaven, the bassist, nodded. “Yeah. Next Monday. Since we had no classes last time, the Elites moved the Monthly Reranking Announcement.”

“Damn. Another reranking. I get more nervous for that than for performances. You think our ranks dropped? I don’t want to be a dweller,” the drummer said.

“There’s no way we’re dropping after all the merit points from the band and the points we get from our boss,” Axel said with a confident grin. 

“What worries me is the Elites. The top five haven’t changed in almost two years, but a lot of new students are racking up points. If I were them, I’d be worried,” he said, and the others couldn’t help but agree.

“Anyway, let’s start…”

Axel leaned over the music stand and looked through songs he’d written. “Let’s do White Castle and…Seven Weeks of Paradise. It’s upbeat, good for easing nerves.”

Jaehyuk and the others traded small smiles. Despite being a clean freak with a rotten attitude, their frontman loved music and knew how to move a crowd. It was his blessing and curse.

“Run White Castle first. I want to change a few things. We’re releasing our fourth digital album on Wednesday, and I want to re-record it,” Axel said, and everyone nodded.

They took their positions. But as they were about to play, a familiar alarm sounded from Axel’s bag. Their eyes widened. When the alarm stopped, all four dropped their instruments and headed out without hesitation.

The doors to the music room opened, revealing four white uniforms wearing black leather masks. They then pulled out a brooch and pinned it on their collar. And instantly, the famous band vanished into their other selves, and the fearsome underlings of the Counts emerged…the Ashes.

The Monarchs, now the Ashes, hurried to the West Tower, where Cigarettes’ base is located.

When they reached the Smoking Room, the count, Orson Bloom, was waiting for them by the door.

“Count,” Axel said with a bow, the others following. “Where are the others?” he then asked.

Orson, holding a can of beer, approached them. “They’re in class, so I’m off too. But the boss is waiting in the red room.”

Axel nodded. After Orson exited, the four pushed through the red door.

The room was quiet. Unlike the day Max had visited, there was no bloodied white uniform inside. Only CJ sat on the sofa, reading.

“Boss,” they said in unison, touching their chests and bowing.

CJ didn’t look up. “Sorry to disturb you. I know you’re busy.”

Heaven stepped forward. “N-No, boss. You didn’t disturb us.”

CJ chuckled at the diligence and set his book aside. “Good. Because I have something important for you.”

Everyone was ready for the assignment, but CJ looked to their drummer first. “ Roman , I asked you to bring Maximilian Sinclaire before, right? How was he?“

Roman and the others blinked at the question, but he stepped forward to answer. “Sinclaire was curious. He seemed like someone who thinks things through before doing anything rash.”

CJ touched his chin. “I see. How about the rest of you? What do you think?”

“There are times he lets his cruel nature show, and that can be a disadvantage,” Jaehyuk said, thinking of when Cigarettes became his homeboy, and Max ordered the counts to beat CJ in the Great Hall.

CJ nodded. “I noticed that too.”

“I apologize, boss, but why ask us this? Do you want us to take revenge on him?” Axel asked, completely confused.

Silence fell, and CJ finally looked up. “I’m asking what you think because I need to know if you can handle what I’m about to assign.”

Axel frowned. CJ rose and approached his loyal underlings.

“Sinclaire is a dweller, but he’s backed by both the Barons and the Dukes. I can’t touch him, especially since we have an agreement I don’t want to break. You, however, can make this happen.” 

“What do you want us to do, boss?” Heaven asked.

CJ stopped before Axel and set a hand on his shoulder, grinning. He was well aware that Axel hated physical contact, but he knew for a fact that the Ash wouldn’t dare shove him away.

“Get acquainted with him and find out about his relationship with the vice president,” CJ said at last.

The four underlings furrowed their brows at the unexpected request.

“Vice President Gavriil?” Roman clarified.

CJ released Axel, who exhaled in relief, and crossed to where his infamous bat rested. 

He picked it up and looked at the four of them one by one. “We had a meeting yesterday with leaders from the other four Houses. The Brotherhood Association wants us to investigate a cryptic message from an anonymous sender. They think it’s connected to the bombing at the Greenhouse.”

“And why involve Sinclaire and the vice president?” Axel questioned, still confused.

CJ stared at the bat and remembered Max’s reaction when he’d mentioned the Alexeev family. Max had looked…terrified, but not at the Alexeev family exactly, but at what that meant for him.

Nothing made sense. CJ knew pieces, but not the whole story. He knew the old president had been acquainted with Gavriil and Viktor when they were kids—and, somehow, Cullen knew or was acquainted with Max too. Beyond that, he was in the dark.

Why was Max so spooked when he learned about the Alexeevs’ bombing specialty? That reaction alone got the leader guessing. Because if “bombing” somehow triggers Max, too, then CJ could only guess that there’s an event that might have connected all of them.

And that’s the Stepanov bombing that killed Viktor’s entire clan.

But if that was the case, why would Viktor and Gavriil continue being friends? Max, Cullen, and Gavriil had also been at the funeral to comfort the sole survivor. CJ had seen it with his own eyes. He had even seen Max’s butler there.

“Gavriil wouldn’t have been connected to the bombing of Viktor’s family. He couldn’t be,” CJ said aloud. “Their relationship stayed the same even after it. So why would Viktor stay close to the man who killed his family, even until now?”

The Ashes glanced at each other before looking back at their boss, who seemed to have been conflicted with his own thoughts.

“And why was Max so scared? Did something else happen to them? Are they all connected somehow?”

“B-Boss?” Axel finally cut in.

CJ blinked, set the bat down, and cleared his throat. “With this assignment, you don’t need the details. I barely have them. I also don’t know how you’ll pull this off, but I need to know their past relationship. It might tie into everything that’s been happening. Can you do it?”

The four exchanged looks, then faced their notorious leader.

“All right, boss. Consider it done.”

|END|

90 | Forgotten Promise

♞

THE SCHOOL BELL RANG,  and the white uniforms hurriedly stepped out of their respective classrooms so they could have their lunch at the Great Hall.

Laughter echoed down the corridor. Students pushed and ran. But in the middle of the hustle and bustle was a group of friends who hadn’t said a word since homeroom.

Ari, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, glanced at Max, who had been quiet since earlier.

“Say something,” he mouthed to Ervin.

“ Why me? You say something,“ Ervin whispered back.

The two of them looked at Max, too afraid to speak since their friend looked like he had a sign on him that said: “ Avoid at all costs.“

When no one dared step forward, Felix sighed and took the honors. “Max,” he called for his attention. “Are you feeling okay? Did something happen? During the Mills party, you left early.”

Max snapped out of it and looked down at his friend’s worried face. “S-Sorry. I was just really tired that night, so I went home,” he lied, and Felix nodded without doubting him.

“But is it true? CJ actually has a company of his own, and you’re going to help find an investor for him?” Ari asked, dying to bring it up, especially since it’s all people talked about yesterday.

The news that CJ had a separate company led everyone to speculate that he was no longer part of the Mills family. It blew up even more when it was said that Max—a boy who no longer had his inheritance—was going to help him get investors.

People had mixed opinions. The general public pitied CJ and sided with Max, especially since Max was a public figure they adored. The other half couldn’t stop voicing how pathetic the two were, trying to act like adults when they were just kids.

Nonetheless, the news was great publicity for Max and for CJ’s company. More people knew about it now, and this might make Max’s job easier than expected.

“It’s true,” Max answered. “Apparently, his father took all his rights away. He practically stripped him of the Mills title.”

Ari and even Ervin were surprised.

“He’s something else then. Juggling being a student, a brotherhood leader, and a CEO takes a lot of willpower. And with the count’s attitude, he’s very carefree, too,” Ervin said, and the others couldn’t help but agree.

“CJ is carefree because he’s confident. He knows when he can handle a situation, and he knows when he needs a hand. They were right when they said he isn’t scared of anything,” Max said.

“Whoa, am I hearing this right? The great Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire is praising the same man who mercilessly kicked and strangled him before? The world has gone mad!” Ari joked, and Max finally loosened up, chuckling at the line.

Felix sighed in relief after seeing Max smile, and the four headed to the Great Hall with fewer worries.

As always, their peculiar little group walked in and drew eyes. As expected, it was because of the deal regarding CJ. No one knew the whole story, but the white uniforms assumed Max had already conquered Cigarettes, even though that wasn’t the case.

“Little toy!” someone shouted as they approached their usual table.

Sitting there were the leader of Jokers, Master Joker, and his right-hand man, Brave. Everyone else was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s the rest?” Ari asked as he took the seat beside Brave, who was shoving pasta into his mouth like a kid.

Krist gently dabbed his mouth with a table napkin and waited for Max to sit beside him before saying, “The rest of my members are finishing an English project that’s due later this afternoon. I already told those bastards to finish it over the weekend, but they didn’t do jack-shit.”

Felix laughed, finding it funny how Krist worries about his juniors’ studies too.

“Well, Rome is with them, so they’ll be fine. The kid’s a genius,” Ervin said, and waiters arrived with their food.

“How about BND? Have they not arrived yet?” Ari asked next.

“Hans texted me. They’re having a meeting, so they won’t be able to eat with us today,” Krist answered, taking a sip of his soda—only for Brave to snatch it as he almost choked on pasta.

While Krist scolded his right-hand man, Max looked up at the balcony where the Royals sat. As expected, Viktor was still nowhere to be found.

Max didn’t ask as they began to eat with the two senior members of Jokers. While they ate, Krist looked at Max and asked, “By the way, how’s CJ? Has he done something to you? That asshole likes to fool around, and I’m worried he’ll pull some wicked trick again.”

Max, staring at his plate, didn’t look up. “No. I’m too important to his company for him to try something stupid.”

Krist nodded and continued to watch Max, who seemed preoccupied. He then glanced at Ari and the others and whispered, “What happened to him?”

Ari shrugged. They didn’t know, either. 

Krist sighed, set his spoon and fork down, then turned to face Max. He had a hunch. He always knew when something troubled his Max.

“Max, look at me.”

Max snapped out of it and met Krist’s eyes, realizing that Krist was just inches away from him now. 

“CJ…what did he tell you?” the baron asked.

Max’s eyes widened, instantly confirming Krist’s suspicion.

“He said something, didn’t he?” Krist pressed, but Max couldn’t answer.

His hand trembled. And, like before, a female voice echoed in his head: “ It’s our little secret, Leigh. Friendships weren’t always made to last .“ The voice began repeating itself, and Max shot to his feet, startling everyone around them.

“Max?” Krist reached out to touch Max’s hand with worry, but the white uniform pushed him away before running out of the hall, sending a frenzy of whispers and curious looks.

“Max!”

Ari started to stand, but Krist stopped him. “I’ll follow him.”

Ari nodded, and Krist left the table after Max. As soon as he was gone, Felix looked at the others, worried. “What’s going on with Max? Did something else happen?”

Ari and Ervin had no clue. Brave, who had finally finished eating, clenched his fork. “That fucker must’ve run his mouth again, not even thinking of the consequences.”

“What do you mean?” Ervin asked, confused.

Brave looked up, staring at the brotherhood banners with a sad expression. “There are things we’re not allowed to say, and things Max isn’t allowed to know. It’s a promise we all made…a promise to our old president, Matthew Grey Cullen .”

…

“Max?” Krist called as he followed him into an empty restroom. He heard retching and checked each cubicle. At the last stall, he found Max kneeling over the toilet.

“Shit…” Krist muttered, stepping in and picking up Max’s peaked cap from the floor.

When Max finished, Krist helped him up and guided him to the sinks. He wet a handkerchief and gently wiped Max’s mouth for him.

Max said nothing, but he didn’t stop the baron.

Krist set the handkerchief and the peaked cap on the counter. “Max,” he said again.

Max looked at him, his eyes on the verge of tears. His hands trembled as he grabbed Krist’s shoulder. “Master Joker…I’ve done something terrible. I…I…”

“Max, calm down,” Krist said, but tears streamed as Max gripped harder.

“Krist, I was there during the Stepanov bombing. Gavriil and I were there…all of us were there,” Max finally said, the memory hitting him like a wave.

Krist bit his lower lip as he watched Max break down. He didn’t know what to say.

Max’s sobs grew harsh. “I was there…but why am I still alive? Why did Viktor’s family die, but we didn’t?”

“Max—”

“Why did my family celebrate when I became Crème de la Crème’s rank one? Why were they so happy when they thought Viktor was dead?” Max went on, letting go of Krist and sinking to the floor as more tears fell.

“Why…why do I keep hearing my mother say such cruel words in my head?”

Krist clenched his fist, then knelt and pulled Max into a tight embrace, pressing Max’s ears against his chest in hopes of calming him down with his heartbeat. “It’s alright. I’m here. Your baron is here. Don’t think about it. It’s alright.”

As Max cried in his arms, Krist closed his eyes and mouthed the words, “ I’m sorry. “ Right after, he found the pressure point on Max’s shoulder and pressed hard. Before Max could even react, his entire body went limp.

His head fell onto Krist’s shoulder. Krist held him, then pulled out his phone and called. Brave answered on the first ring.

“MJ, where are you? Where’s Max?”

“We’re in the restroom outside the Great Hall. Come immediately,” Krist said.

Brave hung up. Two minutes later, the door swung open. Brave, Ari, Felix, and Ervin rushed in.

“Max!” Felix cried at the sight of him.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” Ari demanded as they ran to take Max from Krist.

Krist drew a steadying breath and stood with Ervin’s help. “He’s fine. I pressed a pressure point to put him out.”

“Don’t wake him,” he told Felix. “Bring him to the clinic so he can rest. I’ll message Hans to inform Marcus. Marcus will know what to do. He’s the only one here who’ll be able to handle this.”

Ervin—Max’s friend and a Joker underling—nodded and hoisted Max onto his back.

Krist handed Max’s peaked cap to Felix. “No one mentions this to anyone, and none of you talk about it again. When Max wakes up, you are not to tell him anything. Do you understand?”

“Wait, what’s going on? What the fuck is going on with our friend?” Ari demanded, irritated that Krist was ordering them around without explaining.

“I said you will no longer speak of it. That’s a direct order from your Baron!” Krist snapped, making Felix—and even Ari—flinch.

No one argued. Krist rubbed his temple. “You three, take him to the clinic. Brave, you’re with me. We’re going to talk to that bastard and teach him a lesson.”

Brave nodded, and the two headed out, leaving the others to carry Max.

Felix and Ari looked at their friend, still conflicted. But Ervin snapped them out of it and said, “You heard the master. Let’s go.”

[J.S. High, at the West Tower ]

“Boss, aren’t you going to eat lunch?” Anthony—Cigarettes’ right-hand man—asked as he entered the red room where CJ sat.

CJ was reading when Anthony came in. He didn’t look up. “I’m not hungry. You guys go ahead,” he answered him.

“All right. We’re heading to the Great Hall, then.” 

CJ waved him off, and Anthony left with the rest of the Cigarettes.

Silence settled. CJ read in peace. But as he stared at the words in his book, he suddenly heard a faint sound outside. It shouldn’t have scared anyone, but he set the book down and stared at the red door.

He pulled out a gun hidden under his sofa and raised it. The door swung open, and the Jokers’ leader, Krist Hyusen, walked in with Brave. Their sudden appearance caught the count off guard.

“How dare you barge into my base like this…you fucking jesters,” CJ lashed out as he got up from his seat.

Krist stared at the leader and clenched his fist. Without hesitation, he rushed at CJ, grabbed his collar, and drove a punch into his cheek.

CJ’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that.

“What are you—”

Before he could process what had happened, Krist punched him again. Blood beaded at the corner of CJ’s mouth. As Krist cocked back for another, CJ caught his wrist, shoved it aside, and kicked him in the stomach to break free.

Krist stumbled, but Brave caught him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, MJ?!” CJ barked, one hand to his aching ribs.

Krist pushed Brave’s hand away. “What the hell did you tell Max?! Don’t you remember what we promised each other?!”

CJ frowned, baffled that Max was at the center of this. He truly didn’t know at first…but then he remembered the conversation and Max’s reaction when he’d mentioned Gavriil.

“I didn’t say shit about Cullen! I only told him about the vice president, that’s all!” CJ defended.

Krist’s eyes blew wide. He lunged and hit CJ again. “You bastard!”

CJ’s vision blurred, but he quickly got back to his senses. When he saw an opening, he shoved Krist back. “Get a grip!”

“You’re always like this! Always selfish! Do you even know what you just did? Don’t you fucking get it?!” Krist shouted.

CJ finally lost his temper and shoved him harder. “No! I don’t fucking know because no one ever had the time to tell me anything!”

The tension in the room instantly fell.

Breathing hard, CJ stared at them. “You keep saying I left you in the dust, that I’m the selfish one, so we grew apart. But when everything fell, and everyone started leaving…who was with you? I was, Krist. Not Brave, not Hans—me.”

Krist and Brave said nothing. CJ had never opened up like that.

“When President Cullen left, and everyone started leaving, I stayed. But when I left, and when my life crumbled, and my family disowned me, who was with me?” he asked next.

Krist grit his teeth and looked away.

“No one…” his voice almost cracked. “No one but Anthony and the brotherhood I have now. So don’t barge into our base and disrespect me, as if I owe you anything. Now get out before I rip both of you to shreds,” CJ finished, wiping the blood from his mouth and dropping onto the sofa.

Silence held. But just as Krist turned to go, he drew a breath and told him, “Viktor, Gavriil, Grey, Max, and Cindy…all five of them were friends. All of them were at the bombing that killed Viktor’s entire family.”

As soon as the words landed, CJ didn’t react at first. But after a while, he looked up, eyes wide, as if he’d heard something ridiculous.

“Are you saying—”

“The bombs found at that party…” Krist cut in. “…were manufactured by the Alexeev company.” 

CJ blinked. “W-What?”

Brave exhaled, and Krist finally turned to meet CJ’s eyes. His voice dropped, heavy with finality.“They’re the same bombs that wiped out the Stepanov clan. And the ones that nearly killed the rest of them. That’s why Gavriil never faced Max and his friends again. Do you understand now, Charles?”

|END|

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/20f2245851fa54d90844aefed8771bbd317616f8/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f627666747657474f32424f4244513d3d2d313133343236393333392e313861656334303433333762303732353930323733323036373139302e676966)               

Wow! That last part always gets me.

But anyway, hey guys! Want to do a Zoom meeting with me? lol Or like, a way we can all gather and talk together. I’ve been thinking of doing this for such a long time now, and I think it would be really fun. I’d do an Instagram live or something, but would anyone honestly watch that XD Also, I don’t want to talk to myself. That feels too lonely.

I’m planning to host something like that after Vol. 1-3 is finished, so we can just chat about the book so far, which chapter we like, or who the characters we hate. I would also love to hear your theories! Don’t you think it would be great?

But anyway, that’s just a possible thing we could do, if you guys are willing to do it, of course. 

I guess that’s it! There are a few chapters left for Volume III, so brace yourselves. Also, don’t forget to vote, comment, share, eat, sleep, study, and of course, live. Being alive is the most important 💙

Much love,

N

91 | Family Secret

♞

MARCUS WAS RUNNING DOWN the hallway like his life depended on it. He pushed aside anyone in his way, not caring if they stumbled. The only thing on his mind was reaching the clinic as fast as he could.

He’d been in an important meeting with BND a moment ago, discussing intel Hans had gathered after meeting with the other brotherhood leaders. While they planned their next move, a message from Krist came in: Max had a panic attack and was now in the clinic. Honestly, Marcus wouldn’t have sprinted like this if not for the last line—“he’s starting to remember everything.”

“Max…” Marcus breathed, clenching something in his hand.

When he reached the clinic, he went straight to Max’s room and shoved the door open. Max lay in bed with Ari, Felix, and Ervin standing at his side.

“Marcus!” Ari blurted, shocked he’d arrived so fast.

“How is he?” Marcus asked, moving to his brother.

The three stepped back. “He’s fine now,” Ari said. “Krist somehow knocked him out, and the doctor said he’ll wake up after an hour or so.”

Marcus exhaled and smoothed Max’s hair like he always did. With everything that had happened, he was just grateful Max hadn’t done anything rash.

“Did Max say anything unnecessary to any of you?” Marcus asked, looking at his friends.

Ari glanced at the others. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but he didn’t say anything to us.”

“Marcus, what’s going on?” Felix asked.

Marcus sat at the edge of the bed. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything, even to Max’s closest friends, but he took the risk. It was getting dangerous. He needed help now more than ever.

“After Father took Max’s inheritance away, I knew this would happen. His past will definitely come back to haunt him.”

He left it there, and the three looked even more confused. But while they were trying to decipher what was said to them, Marcus walked to Ari and pressed something into his palm.

Ari opened his hand to find a pill. “W-What is—”

“Max can’t see me once he wakes up, so I need you to do this for me. Dissolve it in water and have him drink it. A spoonful is enough,” Marcus said, glancing at Max.

“I’m sorry, but…what the hell is this?”

“That’s not something you should know.”

“No. If we’re going to make him drink something while he’s unconscious, we at least have the right to know what it is. There’s no way in hell we’re doing this,” Ervin said. He didn’t care if Marcus was a duke. He was going to stand his ground.

Ari and Felix didn’t speak, but they agreed. They weren’t feeding their friend anything without knowing what it was. They weren’t willing to betray him like that.

“You three are seriously—” Marcus stopped, rubbing his temple. There was no point hiding it now.

“It’s a suppressant,” he revealed.

“Suppressant?” Ari frowned.

“For his memories,” Marcus added, taking a breath.

Silence crushed the room. For a second, they thought they’d misheard.

After a long beat, Felix and Ervin’s mouths fell open. Ari stepped back from Marcus. “This is for his…m-memories? All this time, Max has some sort of amnesia, and you’re making sure it’s kept that way?”

“I…I don’t understand,” Felix said.

Marcus had said too much already, so he tried to minimize the damage. “If you’re his friends, if you’re really Max’s friends, I’m begging you not to say anything. We were asked to do this under desperate circumstances. We had no choice.”

“No choice?!” Ari shot back, startling Marcus. “Max is living without knowing something’s missing. How the fuck is that helping him?”

Marcus looked away, guilt swallowing him whole.

“You have no idea what he’s endured,” Marcus said, struggling to keep steady. “He doesn’t even remember everything, and he’s already like this. I’ve protected my brother all my life, and I will keep doing so until the right time comes.”

They went quiet. Felix pulled Ari back, worried he’d swing at a Duke. But while the two remained silent, Ervin stepped up and asked, “Protecting him from what?”

Marcus swallowed and looked at his little brother. Everyone waited for his answer, but what Marcus said next was something they had not expected at all.

“His mother.”

Ari, Felix, and Ervin were stunned. Even without the details, they understood something from that single answer. Max’s mother wasn’t a saint. People called her a monster. It wouldn’t be surprising if she’d done something that scarred him.

“I know this wasn’t going to work forever. That’s why we enrolled him here,” Marcus said. “We believed if Max came, he’d slowly remember and grow stronger—strong enough to accept the truth. But he’s not strong enough yet. He has to grow more to withstand what’s coming.”

“This is fucking crazy,” Ervin muttered.

Marcus looked at them apologetically and headed for the door. “I don’t need you to understand. You can hate me if you want. But please, do this for me, just this once.”

Before anyone could protest, Marcus left the room.

The three stared at the door, stunned. They could hardly believe something this serious was happening to their friend.

“What the hell happened to you, Max?” Felix asked, suppressing a tear from falling.

“What do we do now?” Ervin asked, looking to Ari.

Ari, who was clenching the pill in his hand, looked back at Max and made the hardest decision he had ever made. “Get me a bottle of water and a spoon. We have to give it to him before he wakes.”

…

“They’re the same bombs that wiped out the Stepanov clan. And the ones that nearly killed the rest of them. That’s why Gavriil never faced Max and his friends again. Do you understand now, Charles?” Krist revealed.

CJ’s eyes went wide. “T-That can’t be. Nothing’s adding up. Why are Gavriil and Viktor still acquainted if he knew Gavriil’s family had something to do with the death of his clan? Why hasn’t Viktor done anything about it yet?”

“If you think he hasn’t done anything, you’re wrong,” Brave said, drawing CJ’s gaze.

CJ slowly got up from his seat at the realization. “Viktor…is he threatening Gavriil? Is that it?”

“We honestly don’t know,” Krist said. “All we know is that after the bombing, those five were the only survivors. They stayed acquainted for three more years, then finally broke off and went their separate ways. Two years after that, Viktor, Gavrill, and Grey enrolled at J.S. High.”

CJ tried to piece together what he knew and what he’d learned.

First: Viktor, Gavriil, Max, Cullen, and Cindy had been friends and had been invited to the Stepanov annual reunion eight years ago.

The reunion was a setup. Bombs were everywhere, killing the entire clan. Everyone thought they all died, except Viktor didn’t. Other survivors, undisclosed, were apparently Gavriil and the others.

Viktor’s identity was hidden. The five stayed friends even after the incident, including Gavriil, whose family manufactured the bombs found in the Stepanov mansion.

They remained close for three more years, then split out of nowhere.

No one knew what happened in those three years. No one knew why they decided to pretend they didn’t know each other, especially Max, who no longer remembered anything.

“Within those three years…what the hell happened?” CJ asked, but Krist and Brave had no answer to that question either.

“Only Viktor and the others know the full story,” Krist said. “Even if we wanted to dig, we don’t have the right. They chose to move on.”

“Then what’s going on with Max? If they all tried to move on, why is their past following Max alone?” CJ pressed.

“Ask our old president,” Krist blurted out, and the three of them fell into complete silence.

After a while, Krist checked his watch. “I suggest you visit Max in the clinic. I didn’t do anything dangerous, but he should be waking soon. You should be the first person he sees, so he doesn’t panic.”

“And why on earth would Max panic?” CJ asked, confused.

Krist didn’t answer as he headed for the door. Brave stepped out first, then Master Joker glanced back. “Meet him, and you’ll see. And please, think up an excuse for us.”

CJ was about to say something, but the door closed before a word could even come out, leaving the count completely baffled by what he had learned.

 “Why am I suddenly caught up in all this?” he muttered, aggressively scratching his head in frustration.

He took a breath and pulled a cigarette from the table. But before he could light it, he cursed at himself and shoved the stick back in his pocket. He didn’t know why Krist told him to visit Max, but CJ didn’t waste any time.

He fixed his uniform and asked for Max’s room at the clinic. When he arrived, he found Ari playing games on his phone.

CJ closed the door behind him, and the redhead flinched and almost dropped his phone from his hand, surprised to see CJ there.

“C-Count…what are you doing here?” Ari asked, moving to block Max from view.

CJ approached the bed. “Seems like the clinic is his base, with how often he’s here,” he managed to joke. “Where are the others?”

“Ervin and Felix went back to class,” Ari quickly answered, still holding bitter feelings toward the count after what he did to them in the past. “Now answer me, why are you here?” Ari demanded. 

Seeing Ari’s protectiveness, CJ chuckled. “Relax. I’m not doing anything. I’m just the one Max is supposed to see before he wakes…at least that’s what MJ said.”

“Why would he—” Ari stopped mid-sentence as something clicked. “Wait, did you meet Max yesterday?”

CJ didn’t know why he’d asked, but he answered anyway. “I did. We talked about what to do for my business.”

Ari finally calmed down as he looked at CJ with a more serious expression. “I’ll wait outside. If you try anything stupid, you’ll regret it.”

CJ cared little about the threat, but he nodded. When Ari left, CJ looked at the sleeping boy with curiosity. He reached out, brushing the brooches on his collar.

“Your life is already so complicated, yet you act like you can manage everything. Looks like I’m not the only crazy one here,” CJ murmured.

He was about to touch Max’s cheek when Max suddenly moved, quickly making CJ pull his hand away.

Max moved again, and this time, his eyes fluttered open. While CJ watched him come back to his senses, CJ couldn’t help but feel nervous. Something about what Krist said left him conflicted.

“C-CJ?” Max asked, pushing up.

CJ took a breath, shook off the nerves, and put on his trademark grin. “You’re finally awake, you sly little fox,” he said, pretending like he wasn’t worried about him a couple of seconds ago.

“My head hurts like hell. Looks like that cigarette you let me try made me dizzy,” Max said.

CJ’s eyes widened. “What?”

Max glanced around and, to his surprise, noticed CJ in his black uniform. He looked at the room and realized he was in J.S. High’s clinic, not CJ’s office. “What happened? Why am I here?”

CJ’s mind raced. “Y-You…you fainted. Yeah. You were heading to class this morning when you suddenly dropped. The doc said you were sleep-deprived, so you must’ve been half-asleep when you got here earlier,” he lied, praying Max would buy it.

Max rubbed his temple. It was a bizarre story, but he didn’t doubt him. CJ was, annoyingly, truthful. 

“Étienne was right. I shouldn’t overwork myself. I don’t even remember leaving your office. I’m seriously losing it.”

CJ laughed awkwardly, fist clenching in frustration.

“Anyway, let me get ready so we can go. My brother and the others must be worried,” Max said, smiling as he stepped off the bed and reached for his peaked cap on the table.

CJ’s smirk disappeared the second Max turned away. Staring at Max’s oblivious back, he realized the cruel thing they’d tried so hard to hide.

The Stepanov Clan wasn’t the only one that died that night.

The Sinclaires had taken his memories away…and they’d killed Max off with them.

Max knew something he wasn’t supposed to. And his family did everything to make sure he never remembered.

That’s what they’ve been afraid of.

That was the Sinclaire family’s greatest secret.

|END|

92 | Between Friends

♞

“WE HAVE WAY TOO much homework for Mr. Coleman’s class. But with everything that’s going on with my family, he’s the only one reminding me that I’m still a student,” Max joked while he and his friends walked down the steps of the Keep.

“Yeah,” Ari answered, eyes almost absent.

Max noticed and stared at them with worry. “Hey,” he called out, instantly making them stop walking.

They thought Max suspected that something was off, but then he asked, “Are you guys mad at me?”

The moment he asked, Ari dropped his bag and pulled him for a hug, surprising Max. “Don’t be fucking stupid. Why the hell would we be mad at you? You should be mad at us, Max. We’re the worst friends ever.”

“Okay, Ari, that’s overkill,” Max said, looking at Felix and Ervin, who couldn’t even meet his eye.

When Ari finally decided to let go, he picked up his bag and told him, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Aristotle Faulkner, you’re freaking me out.”

“We were just worried,” Ervin cut in, pulling Ari toward them. “You’ve been visiting the clinic since you came back. We’re just…we should have done better. We should have thought things through better.”

“Hey, none of this is your fault,” Max reassured them, smiling at how his friends were acting. “It’s my fault that I never learn to stop myself from overworking. If I’d known that I’d faint from too much stress, I could have rested more. So this is all on me. You guys aren’t responsible for the things I decide to do.”

“But — “

“I promise, I won’t get sent to the clinic again,” Max cut Felix off, reaching out to him to pat his head like he always does.

Felix almost cried, but he held it in.

“And besides, I only fainted. It’s not like someone tried to bomb me again,” Max jokingly said as he started walking, making the three awkwardly laugh with him before following their friend.

When they got off the steps, they found Max’s butler, Étienne, waiting for him.

 Max approached Étienne as Ari and the others stood behind him. “What’s with the face? Marcus told you that I got sent to the clinic again, didn’t he?” he said, noticing the serious look on his butler’s face.

Étienne didn’t reply. Instead, he opened the car door.

Max sighed and looked back at his friends. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. And I’m sorry for making you guys worried again. I really am,” he said, climbing inside the car.

Ervin opened his mouth to say something, but Étienne immediately slammed the door shut, causing the three of them to flinch. 

They thought Étienne was going to head inside as well, but to their surprise, he stepped forward and told them with a low and steady voice, “You all look like smart kids. But if you value the friendship you have with my master, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

“Are you…threatening us?” Ari asked, hands shaking.

Étienne took another step closer. “ No, “ he whispered. “ I’m telling you. “

Ari gritted his teeth, and Ervin immediately grabbed his arm to make sure he didn’t do anything rash. When no one said a word, Étienne finally turned and got in the car, driving off with Max, who knew nothing about what was really going on.

“We’re the bad guys now, aren’t we?” Felix asked, expression unreadable.

Ervin shook his head and touched his shoulder. “We had no choice, Felix. As soon as Marcus mentioned Max’s mother, there was no way out for us.”

“But do you really think she’s behind all this? That a woman long buried could still reach out from the grave to torment her son? Could anyone be that cruel?” Felix asked, and silence fell over them.

“She’s a Sinclaire, Felix. She’s as crazy as the people who decided that it’s okay to drug him.” Ari said flatly. “There’s no point feeling guilty now. We’re just pawns in their game. We do what we have to do and move on.”

As soon as the words landed, Felix looked at Ari like he couldn’t believe what he heard.

“Don’t feel guilty about it? Move on? We just wiped out our friends’ memories! What we did has nothing to do with Luna and has everything to do with us,” Felix snapped. “We shouldn’t have done that. We should have told Max everything when we had the chance.”

“Had the chance? Did you not just witness how his butler threatened us?” Ari answered back.

“Telling on Max would still have been the right thing to do, and you know it, Ari. We shouldn’t have been scared because if Max were in our shoes, he wouldn’t have done the same,” Felix argued, and Ari finally lost his temper.

“Felix! Get your head out of the clouds! We will never be like Max!” Ari shouted, and Felix took a step back, stunned.

“Max can challenge a fucking president of a country and get away with it because he’s a Lemieux and a Sinclaire. We don’t have the privilege that he does. Heck, I don’t have a fourth of the privilege you have,” Ari said, hands trembling from anger, or maybe shame and guilt he desperately wants to mask.

“I’m a Faulkner. I’m just a Faulkner. Heirs like you, it’s so fucking easy to make choices when nothing is at risk. One word and our lives could be ruined. Our parents could lose their jobs. My siblings might not have a future. Just one word…a decision I can regret for the rest of my life…that’s all it takes for people like you to destroy us,” Ari said.

Felix could no longer find the right words.

Ervin, who hadn’t said anything, couldn’t even disagree.

“We can’t go against a family like the Sinclaires. It’s bad enough that we found out about their fucked up secret. Getting in between them now is suicide, and I’m not brave enough for that.”

“So you’d risk our friendship with Max because you’re scared? That’s it?”

“Yes,” Ari admitted, “I’m an asshole. I’m evil. You should damn me all your life because this is the extent of what I could do for our friendship.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Felix argued.

“Really? Because based on your reaction, you haven’t listened to a single word I said, and that tells me everything.”

Ervin, who was standing between them, wanted to break them off, but he couldn’t say anything because he understood both of them completely. It seemed, however, that Ari and Felix couldn’t.

“If you want to tell him everything, then be my guest. None of us is going to stop you. You have the power to defend yourself if shit goes down anyway,” Ari ended.

Felix was about to say something to defend himself, but then a luxury car parked in front of them. 

Ari turned and chuckled. “Well, looks like your ride is here…young master.”

“Ari, don’t.”

Ervin watched the two of them with worry. They hadn’t argued like that before.

“Drugging kids…killing people for power…you rich bastards are fucking crazy. I can’t do this. I can’t do it anymore.” Ari looked at Felix one last time before finally walking away.

Felix wanted to follow him, but Ervin grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Don’t,” he said. “Ari’s just…he’s on edge. Give him some time to think.”

“I…I didn’t mean to—”

“He was the one who decided to feed Max the pill. That shit is a different kind of guilt. He probably just blames himself, but he’ll come back to his senses eventually,” Ervin assured Felix before letting go of his arm.

A tear streamed down Felix’s cheek. Ervin noticed and sighed, reaching out to pat his shoulder. 

“Felix, I understand where you’re coming from, but I hope you try to understand Ari, too. I want to help Max, I really do, but this shit is serious, and we have to think about this carefully before we do anything,” Ervin explained.

“Telling Max something his entire family had kept secret from him for who knows how long isn’t something we should just do on a whim. There’s bound to be something deeper behind it. Blindly revealing the truth might just do more harm than good. And his panic attacks might be a warning we shouldn’t ignore.

And honestly, I might have been the last to join you guys, but I think Max would get mad at us for arguing, not because of what happened. He’d probably even blame himself for putting us in that position,“ Ervin finished, and Felix released a heavy breath.

“Thanks, Ervin. I’m glad you joined our group because you’re literally the only one who can still think properly after experiencing something like that,” Felix said, and Ervin smiled, reaching out to wrap his arm around Felix’s shoulder.

“I just hope everything makes sense in the end,” Felix added.

Ervin agreed and stared at the J.S. High crest on the building in front of them. “As much as we hate it, let’s just follow what Marcus said and not talk about this matter anymore. If you don’t remember, our school is still owned by a Sinclaire. And you don’t wanna know how terrifying President Janus really is.”

…

Max watched the cars pass by the window, thinking. 

“Étienne,” he called out. “Did I do something weird this morning? I really can’t remember anything. I don’t even remember leaving CJ’s office yesterday,” Max said.

Étienne clenched the steering wheel, unable to answer. It took him a while to find his words again.

“You must have been really tired. When we left yesterday, you slept in the car, even when we got back to the mansion,” Étienne lied, but Max looked like he didn’t even doubt it.

“Well, I guess it’s a blessing in disguise. I feel a lot better now, actually,” Max answered, turning to look at his butler, who couldn’t even look him straight in the eye.

As silence slowly engulfed them, Max pulled his phone out and checked his contacts. When he spotted the name Scarlet Romano, he said, “Can you call Scarlet’s secretary and ask if she’s available to meet with me. I’d call her myself, but the woman likes it better when things are formal.”

“Alright, master.”

“If she agrees, send a red velvet cake to her office. There’s a store near 4th Avenue that sells the cakes she likes,” Max added, and Étienne nodded his head in response.

Max took a deep breath and was about to put his phone away when it suddenly started ringing. Étienne glanced at the rearview mirror as Max stared at the screen on his phone. 

It was an unregistered number.

Max was hesitant to answer, but then he took the call anyway.

“Hello?” he asked.

The other line was quiet for a second, but then he suddenly heard the caller say, “Hi, Sinclaire. I didn’t think you’d actually answer.”

“V—”

“Shh, quiet now, white uniform. You don’t want your butler to know who I am,” said the caller, who was actually the missing king, Viktor.

Max didn’t know what was going on, but he immediately understood the situation as he pretended, “Oh, Krist. Why’d you call all of a sudden?”

Laughter echoed in the other line, irritating Max. But he kept his expression neutral. He didn’t want Étienne to find out that something was wrong.

“Good, you’re as sharp as always. But out of all the fake people you can think of, you decide to pretend that I’m a baron?”

“Why’d you call?” Max asked again, but with a more demanding voice this time.

Viktor chuckled and answered. “I heard you made a ruckus earlier.”

“Nothing escapes you.”

“Of course, I’m a king,” Viktor answered, and Max could already picture him smirking at the other line. “But that’s not really important right now. As you may know, I haven’t been going to J.S. High due to… unforeseen…circumstances.”

Max wanted to ask why he’d care, but he let Viktor continue.

“I know that, like me, you have your own problems to worry about, but I just want you to know something,” Viktor told him, his voice sounding more serious.

“What is it?” Max asked.

“I know that Gavriil already told you our past relationship with each other, including Cindy and Grey,” Viktor finally revealed, and Max’s entire body tensed. “Gav always had a soft spot for you, so I understand. I won’t scold him for it. He already had enough of that the other night.”

“So what then? You want us to start hanging out again?” Max sarcastically asked, causing Viktor to laugh even harder.

When he finally stopped laughing, he continued, “I know outside affairs are important, but I hope you know that you’re still a student of J.S High. As its king, it’s only natural that I encourage a white uniform to climb faster. Time is running out after all.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to point out here,” Max finally said, making Viktor sigh.

“You’re as ignorant as your mother wanted. I’m seriously impressed,” he blurted out.

Max wanted to hang up the phone, but the king continued, “The first term is about to end, and you’ve only conquered two brotherhoods. With someone so arrogant as you, that’s rather slow.”

Max said nothing and unconsciously touched the brooches on his collar, waiting to hear the rest of Viktor’s unexpected advice.

“You’re helping the count, great. But after all is said and done, you must conquer them. That is unnegotiable,” Viktor explained. “Cigarettes are an easy brotherhood to tame. Their leader is a simple man—don’t overcomplicate things. It’s the remaining brotherhoods that you’ll have to be wary about, especially Crazy 8.”

“Why them specifically?”

“It’s because of their leader,” Viktor answered. “You’ll be surprised by how troublesome Siren can be.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Max then asked.

For a moment, Viktor said nothing. But after a while, Max could feel the air around him change, if that was even possible.

After dragging the silence for a few more seconds, Viktor finally broke it. “Sinclaire…you can’t win a battle if you don’t have enough bullets, and you’ll only get a clear picture of what’s happening from above. That’s why you don’t skip a step. Each has its own purpose. Conquer them all, and see what kind of power that could bring you.”

|END|

93 | The Truth

♞

“YOU’LL ONLY GET A clear picture of what’s happening from above. That’s why you don’t skip a step. Each has its own purpose. Conquer them all, and see what kind of power that could bring you.”

Those were the only exact words Max could remember after his conversation with Viktor. He told him not to skip steps, and Max knew that the steps he referred to were the brotherhoods.

With Jokers, Max had learned about the relationships between each brotherhood and the true situation in J.S. High. That had also been the first time someone had mentioned the old president to him.

With the Boys Next Door, Max had learned about the outside problems J.S. High faced, and the people who were not only after him but after his school as well. He had learned a lot about the system during those times, too. Those were the things he had gotten from BND.

But now there were the infamous Counts—the Cigarettes.

Gavriil wanted Max to conquer the Cigarettes, and apparently, that was also what Viktor wanted. Max had already told Krist and the others that he didn’t plan to do so anymore because he only wanted to get his inheritance back, but it seemed he needed something more from CJ.

It seemed there was something CJ knew that could actually help Max in some way.

“Looks like everything is slowly revealing itself, just like what Viktor claimed,” Max said as he walked toward the balcony of his bedroom. 

He stared at the view in front of him, and in an instant, he was reminded of the place where Gavriil had brought him: King’s Horizon. It had been the only place where he felt completely safe.

Ever since he found out about his past connection with Gavriil, Viktor, Cindy, and Grey, fragments of memories kept resurfacing at the most unexpected moments.

Max pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. As he stared at the city lights below, another memory suddenly surfaced. This time, it involved CJ.

[8 Hours Ago]

[J.S. High, at the Clinic ]

“Y-You…you fainted. Yeah. You were heading to class this morning when you suddenly dropped. The doc said you were sleep-deprived, so you must’ve been half-asleep when you got here earlier,” he lied, praying Max would buy it.

Max rubbed his temple. It was a bizarre story, but he didn’t doubt him. CJ was, annoyingly, truthful.

“Étienne was right. I shouldn’t overwork myself. I don’t even remember leaving your office. I’m seriously losing it.”

CJ laughed awkwardly, fist clenching in frustration.

“Anyway, let me get ready so we can go. My brother and the others must be worried,” Max said, smiling as he stepped off the bed and reached for his peaked cap on the table.

He put on the cap and fixed his uniform. While he did so, CJ stared at him intensely. Words wanted to come out, but he didn’t know how to start. When he finally made up his mind, he drew a breath and said, “Max, there’s something you need to know—”

Max stopped what he was doing, but he didn’t look back at the count. Somehow, he was afraid of what CJ might say.

“I know this may sound strange, but…I’m a very truthful person. And I’m pretty sure you know that by now,” CJ said, his voice tight with the effort of explaining.

The room fell silent between them, and Max clenched his fist, bracing for whatever CJ was about to tell him.

“Don’t be shocked, okay? Whatever happens, I just want you to know that I’m only telling you this because I’d feel shitty if I kept it to myself, and I actually pity you—like seriously. I went through shit myself, but you are just… I seriously pity your ass even after what I did to you! It doesn’t make any sense!” CJ babbled in a panic, stalling.

When he realized Max was still waiting, the count finally took a deep breath and gathered his courage. “Max…your family is suppressing your—”

“Stop!” Max suddenly shouted, making CJ flinch and fall silent.

Max’s hands trembled, but he breathed in and out until he could speak more calmly. CJ had no idea why Max didn’t want him to continue, but then Max revealed to him, “As soon as you finish that sentence, you will be involved with my family, and if that happens, I might never be able to help you with your company, and I will never get my inheritance back.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I just said you’re—”

“You were already doing a good job pretending. Why the hell did you have to say it now?” Max cut in, making CJ take a step back in shock.

“W-wait. You knew?”

Max took another breath and sat on the edge of the bed. “Ever since Gavriil told me about my past relationship with him, Viktor, Cindy, and the old president, I knew that something was wrong. I couldn’t have just forgotten all of that. It was impossible.” His words surprised CJ. He couldn’t believe Max had been able to catch on from such small clues.

“I had a lot of theories, but the most likely one is that I had some sort of accident that led to selective amnesia. That occurrence somehow became an opportunity for my family, and so they started suppressing my memories every time I began to remember them. I mean, I think,” Max explained, leaving CJ speechless.

“You really are a sly little fox,” CJ said, mixing awe with disbelief. Apparently, everyone had underestimated Max even when they knew how capable he was. It obviously would take more than a drug to keep him from knowing the truth.

CJ should have known that, too.

“So you remember what I told you yesterday, then?” CJ asked. 

Max nodded in reply.

Max could hardly stomach the things he had started to remember after CJ’s warning, but he knew he had to swallow it all to move forward. Just thinking about it now nearly made him vomit. He realized he would have to be stronger to fully uncover what that trauma meant.

“Do Krist and the others know about this?” CJ asked next.

“If you’re talking about the memory manipulation, I don’t think Krist and the others know. Marcus isn’t going to risk telling anyone they’re purposely drugging me. They probably just think I lost my memories,” Max said. He then looked around the room and thought of his friends.

“I woke up during the time my brother arrived and told Ari and my friends about the drug. It was some sort of liquid, but I was able to spit it out when no one was looking,” Max shared.

“Waking up in that perfect moment…it was probably pure luck. Maybe fate is starting to trust in me, too, so they gave me the chance to take back control of what I can and cannot remember.

“So your friends got mixed up too, huh? I’m even surprised about Marcus. The guy looks like he’d destroy the world for you,” CJ admitted, watching Max’s reaction.

But Max showed nothing. It was hard for CJ to read.

“Marcus would never hurt me. That burden he’s been carrying—I’m sure he’s been drowning from it since the very beginning,” Max said, his expression turning from unreadable to devastated. “My friends, too. I don’t want to judge them. In this situation, there’s no right or wrong, and I’m sorry that they had to go through this because of me.” 

“You’re a fucking saint,” CJ said, sighing. “But that’s just your nature. It’s pathetic, but I get you.”

“Blaming someone who was only used isn’t the right thing to do. Helplessness can sometimes be underestimated when you compare it to morality. So right now, I want to be in the middle ground.”

Max reached out to touch his Lemieux necklace. “Marcus, Étienne…my father…they’re all hiding something from me. And if they’re not willing to tell me what it is, then I have no choice but to look for it myself.”

“What are you going to do then?” CJ asked.

Max looked at the necklace one last time before letting go. “For now, I’m still pretending I know nothing. Before I make a concrete plan, pretending ignorance is the best option. My first move is to get my inheritance back, and that’s what I intend to do,” he said, looking straight back at the leader.

“So, Charles Justin Mills, who do you pity again?” Max asked, a grin slowly appearing on his face.

CJ laughed. “Well played. You’re something else. Your resilience is suddenly inspiring me to help you more,” CJ teased.

“Oh, please. That doesn’t sound so convincing.”

“Hey, when it comes to getting things done, I’m your best bet. Believe me.”

[Present time]

[Sinclaire Mansion, at Max’s bedroom ]

Max exhaled smoke and continued to stare at the city with a victorious grin. He wasn’t the ignorant boy they thought he was. He wouldn’t let them make a fool out of him again, and he was definitely not going to cry and beg on his knees like before.

This time, Max held the rules of the game.

This time…

It was his turn to roll the dice.

“Now, what should I do with Ari and the others?”

…

The whistle blew hard, almost making the students of Class II-A cover their ears in a panic. When it was over, they stopped running on the field and looked at the PE teacher, Mr. Ryan Baxter.

“That’s enough for today! Go and head to the locker rooms to change!” Mr. Baxter shouted, and everyone cheered as they ran back to their lockers, faster than they had run the laps.

“That was some good exercise, don’t you think?” Max asked Ervin while wiping his sweat with a towel.

Ervin nodded and chugged a bottle of water. After twenty laps, Max and Ervin were the only ones who still looked like they could run ten more. Ervin was an amazing athlete, and Max’s endurance had grown after training with BND.

“Easy for you guys to say,” Ari complained, appearing beside them.

Felix, who was standing on the other side, was about to say something when his eyes met Ari’s. The two stared at each other for a quick second before turning and walking away.

“What’s going on with them? Did they fight?” Max asked. 

Ervin shrugged, pretending not to know, even though he had been there during yesterday’s argument.

Max sighed and watched as his friends took their leave. He wanted to give them some space, but then he ran to them, grabbing Ari by the arm and pulling him toward Felix. 

“Hey, what’s wrong with you two? Are you fighting over petty things again?” Max asked as Ervin followed behind them.

“No, we’re not,” both answered, their tone saying otherwise.

Max had an inkling of what they might have argued about, but he didn’t say anything. If he did, they’d only get more involved, and he wasn’t willing to put them through that again. This was only supposed to be his problem. Getting them caught up in it was a mistake.

“Well, if you guys aren’t going to make up, then—” Max let go and grabbed Ervin’s arm before suddenly running off with him. “We’re not going to talk to you guys until you do!” Max shouted, running away and shocking Felix and Ari.

“Darn you, Max! Can you really be this petty!” Ari yelled until Max and Ervin were out of sight.

As soon as they were gone, the air between them shifted from hostility to awkwardness. Felix wanted to speak, but Ari walked away as if he didn’t want to see him at all.

Felix clenched his fist but said nothing. 

When they arrived at the locker room, all of their classmates had already left. Even Max and Ervin were nowhere to be found. But since their lockers were conveniently beside each other, the two had no choice but to change their uniforms side by side.

Ari removed his shirt and wiped his sweat with a towel.

Felix, who was standing beside him, stared at his own locker, refusing to open it.

When it was clear that Ari wouldn’t speak first, Felix gathered his courage and said, “I’m sorry.”

Ari, who was about to grab his uniform, stopped mid-way.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like the villain and refusing to understand your worries. I was so focused on my own guilt that I convinced myself my way was the only right one. I thought you didn’t care.”

Felix waited for Ari to say something, but as expected, the Rose stayed quiet.

When Felix could no longer hold it in, he slammed Ari’s locker shut and shoved him in the shoulder, forcing him to face him.

“Would you at least listen to me?!” he yelled.

The loud bang echoed through the hallway, but Ari didn’t even flinch.

“I’m not the only one to blame, am I? Was it really so wrong for me to think we could’ve done something different?” Felix asked.

When Ari still refused to answer, Felix laughed bitterly and wiped at his face in frustration, only to realize his hands were trembling.

“Fine,” he muttered weakly. “Forget it.”

But the moment he looked away, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Ari froze.

The anger on his face faltered almost instantly, replaced by something quieter—something almost guilty.

“You’re such a pain,” Ari said, suddenly grabbing Felix and pulling him into an embrace, surprising both of them. “You’re not supposed to cry. You’re supposed to be angry. That’s all you needed to feel.”

“I fucking hate you,” Felix replied as Ari hugged him tighter.

“I’m sorry for saying such mean things. I let my anger get the best of me and said all that without thinking about how you felt, too. I know that you had good intentions, and I know that I could have done things differently.”

“No, don’t say that. I know how terrible you must have felt after what happened. Instead of comforting you, I pinned you down even more.” Felix buried his face in Ari’s chest. “We should have communicated better. Things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

“I don’t think communicating with each other is our style, though,” Ari admitted.

The two finally laughed, the silent war over before it had gotten worse. While Felix sighed in relief, Ari patted his head. The two seemed to have opposite personalities, but they always had one thing in common, and that was their love for their friendship.

“Well, that was faster than I expected,” a voice said.

Ari immediately pushed Felix away when he heard the familiar voice, acting like he’d been caught doing something illegal as Max and Ervin emerged from the back of the lockers.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ari asked, his cheeks turning red as he watched his two friends approach them.

Ervin chuckled and glanced at Felix, whose cheeks were also flushed, before looking back at Ari. “Looks like you really are a man, Faulkner,” he teased, and Ari immediately hit him with a towel.

“Anyway, I’m glad you guys made up,” Max said. “The last thing I want is to see my friends fighting. So next time, when something like this happens to us, let’s all talk about it properly. Is that a deal?”

Ari, Felix, and Ervin looked at each other, and then they turned to Max and smiled. “Deal.”

Max smiled back, chest fluttering. These were his friends, and no matter what, he would protect that friendship at all costs.

“Alright, now that everything is back to normal, let’s change into our uniforms,” Max said as he approached his locker. “And Ari…I can’t believe you hugged Felix shirtless. What type of novels do you even read?” he added, causing the rest of them to laugh.

Max wanted to tell them they hadn’t done anything wrong, but this was the best he could do for now. When the time is right, he’d tell them everything.

“ Just a little more, guys. Bear with me a little longer ,“ Max thought as Ari and the others fooled around again like usual.

While the four changed back into their white uniforms, someone suddenly barged into the locker room. They were expecting one of their classmates to enter, but to their surprise, four very popular students of J.S. High entered instead.

“Looks like we came just in time.”

“The Monarchs?!” Ari, Felix, and Ervin shouted in unison.

Max turned back to the four men and furrowed his brow. “Who?”

The Monarchs’ frontman, Axel Dumont, gasped in disbelief at Max’s unfamiliarity. Their bassist, Heaven, couldn’t help but laugh, while Ari looked at Max like he was crazy.

“You don’t know the Monarchs?! J.S. High’s very own band?! We literally saw them at the first morning assembly. How do you not remember them?”

Max wanted to pretend he knew them to spare himself the embarrassment, but he scratched his head and admitted, “Sorry, I don’t really remember.”

Axel looked personally offended, but Ari had already begun pointing at them one by one.

“The man in the middle is their frontman, Axel Dumont. The one with silver hair is their bassist, Heaven Carter. Beside him is their guitarist, Jung Jaehyuk, and the tallest is their drummer, Roman Fulwood.”

Max, who seemed uninterested, straightened his necktie before looking back at the band.

“Alright, nice to meet you all. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back to our class.”

Max walked past them, unfazed. But before he could reach the exit, Axel chased after him and grabbed his arm.

“Wait.”

Max turned to him with a glare. If they were trying to get on Max’s good side, grabbing him was leading them to a terrible start.

“I apologize.” Axel pulled his hand away as quickly as he had grabbed him. “We should have introduced ourselves properly, but our boss kept changing his orders. Things have been hectic lately because of him.”

“Boss?” Ervin asked with furrowed brows.

Max stared at the four men until his eyes widened in recognition. “T-the Ashes…these four are the Ashes,” he revealed.

“Wait, no way,” Felix muttered.

“The Monarchs? Ashes? W-what the heck?” Ari added.

Axel grinned when all of them finally put two and two together.  “Well, would you look at that—you caught up fast.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Ari and Ervin transformed into their underling persona and immediately stepped protectively in front of Max. Even Felix was on guard. “What do you guys want?” Ari demanded, ready to fight.

Axel and the rest of the Ashes laughed at the aggressive response, but the sound slowly died down when Axel took a step forward.

Ari instinctively clenched his hand into a fist, ready to throw a punch if necessary.

But then…

Axel bowed, and Heaven and the others immediately followed after him.

The sudden gesture stunned the four of them.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Axel said, his voice far more serious than before. He then lifted his head and adjusted the brooches that Max and the others had only now noticed. “As the counts instructed…use us as you see fit, master Max Sinclaire.”

|END|

94 | Help From Rank 9

♞

MAX THOROUGHLY READ THE notes that he borrowed from Felix. After all his clinic visits, he needed to catch up. Thankfully, their PE class was followed by homeroom, and Sir Barron left them to do whatever they wanted since he had a meeting with the Elites regarding the Monthly Reranking Announcement on Friday.

You’d expect the class to be rowdy—homeroom without their adviser was a free pass to foolery. But no one said a word. Instead, they all stared at Max, or rather, at the white uniform who stole Ari’s seat.

“When are you planning to leave?” Max finally asked, turning his head to Axel, the frontman of the famous band, the Monarchs.

“Please, I’m begging you. Leave me alone,” Max pleaded.

Axel, who was casually playing a game on his phone, looked at Max and said, “I’m not the type to stick around other people. In fact, I hate it as much as you do. But the boss gave us an order, and as long as you haven’t given me one, I’m not leaving.”

“But there’s nothing that I need. What on earth could you possibly give me?” Max asked in annoyance while the rest of his classmates stole glances, probably thinking of rumors they can’t wait to spread during lunch break.

“Well, if there’s nothing then I’ll stay here a little longer. I don’t have much to do anyway,” Axel said, brushing off Max’s irritation as he went back to his phone.

While Max tried his best not to lose his temper, Ari and Ervin, who were sitting beside Felix, stared at Axel in amazement.

“ I can’t believe those fuckers were the Ashes ,“ Ari whispered.

“I can’t believe Max hasn’t beaten the shit out of him yet,” Ervin added, making Felix chuckle.

“Max still has a complicated relationship with CJ. What he does to that frontman would affect his plans to conquer Cigarettes,” Felix explained while he continued writing his notes.

“That makes sense,” Ari agreed, reaching out to pat Felix’s head. “You really are a genius.”

Felix pushed Ari’s hand away in irritation. But before they started arguing again, the bell rang. Classes were finally over.

Max closed his notebook and got up from his seat. While the rest of the class filed out one by one, Axel still played on his phone, both feet propped on the chair in front of him like he was relaxing at home.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin approached as Max looked back at Axel. “If you try to follow me home, I am seriously going to call the cops on you,” he threatened.

Axel, still not looking at Max, answered, “Don’t worry, I’m actually going back to the studio. We’re releasing an album tomorrow, so the schedule is a bit hectic. If you need anything, you should say it now.”

“I told you, I don’t need your—” Max paused and massaged his temple in defeat. “Alright. Tell your boss I appreciate the gesture, but right now I don’t need help. I’m still thinking. If I finally have a plan, I’ll tell you.”

Axel looked back at Max and pocketed his phone.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he said, finally standing from Ari’s seat.

“I hate wasting time on other people, but what the boss wants, the boss gets,” Axel said, pulling out a card with the Monarch’s logo.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/fd4f5b70df82ee42b21b84bb549a09a024d74fff/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f593050784c566f355736577964513d3d2d313133393738343136362e313862313433353939326335333165633934333836383733313532342e706e67)               

“This is our band’s exclusive card—the numbers at the back. Our manager will answer your call, so introduce yourself as Sinclaire. He’ll know what to do.”

Max was surprised by the sudden professional attitude, but he took the card and nodded.

“Well, it was fun following you around, Master. Until next time,” Axel said, flashing a charming smile at the dweller before finally walking out of the room.

Dozens of students swarm him outside, and just like that, the Monarchs’ frontman disappeared in a sea of white uniforms.

“And there he goes,” Ervin said, draping an arm around Max’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe a member of the Monarchs stayed in our classroom for an hour and a half. We’re literally living the fanfic main character life,” Felix joked, making Ari and Ervin laugh.

“What surprised me more was the fact that they’re actually the infamous Ashes. Who would have known?” Ari added.

“Well, I guess we should all—” Before Ari could finish, Max’s phone began ringing, cutting him off. Max apologized, pulled his phone from his pocket, and saw Étienne’s name appear on the screen.

“Hello?” Max answered.

“I apologize for calling you like this, Master Leigh, but I called Madam Scarlet as you requested, and she replied. She said she’s only available today at four o’clock because she has a photo shoot at five,” Étienne said.

Max checked his watch. It was already 3:07 p.m. He cursed.

“Where does she want to meet?”

“At the Romano Hotel at West Alderwick.”

“That’s at least thirty minutes away by car. We can’t predict the traffic,” Max said with a sigh, irritated that Scarlet had given them such a tight schedule. Then again, he had requested the meeting. Complaining isn’t an option.

“Alright, where are you now?”

“I’m already downstairs.”

Max ended the call and looked at his friends. “Can’t really explain in detail, but I have an important meeting at four, so I’ll have to leave you guys first.”

“No worries, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Ari assured him. 

Max smiled, ran out of the room, and headed straight to the Keep where Étienne was waiting.

He didn’t say anything as he practically threw himself into the car. Étienne closed the door for him, and they drove off to meet the woman who might just have a solution to both Max’s and CJ’s problems.

Scarlet Romano, heiress of Romano Resorts and Hotels, was the only heir who had publicly announced her rank in the Crème de la Crème, placing her at the ninth spot.

If Cindy was the public’s darling, Scarlet was an icon—a prodigy in business strategy and corporate deals. When her parents’ company faced bankruptcy when she was twelve, it was Scarlet who brought them back on their feet.

Ever since then, she had saved dozens of other companies from the same fate. Now, her talent fees were through the roof. Some even paid a hefty price just to be in the same room as her. She was that good.

“Master, we’re here.”

Max looked out the window and was greeted by a grand hotel that almost looked like a forest. Unlike the Sinclaire Hotels, which were extravagant for their famous casinos, the Romano Hotels made you feel like you were on a private island, even in the city.

“It’s 3:50 p.m., Master Leigh, so we still have a little time,” Étienne said. “I’ll park at the main entrance and wait for you in the lobby. I was also able to buy the red velvet cake you asked for. But since Madam Scarlet replied late, I wasn’t able to send it ahead.”

“It’s alright. I’ll bring it to her myself. Thank you,” Max said as Étienne parked at the entrance. Étienne handed him the cake, then came around to open the door.

Max stepped out in his full white uniform, instantly catching people’s attention. Even if they didn’t know who he was, they knew where the uniform was from.

“I’ll message you when we’re done,” Max said as he headed inside.

No one greeted him at first, but a floor manager recognized him and hurried over. He stopped in front of Max and bowed. “S-Sir Maximilian Sinclaire…We were not expecting you. Did you book a room?”

“No, I’m here to meet Scarlet. She said she’s here?” Max asked.

“Yes, sir. Right this way. I’ll lead you to her,” the man said, escorting him to the elevator.

When they arrived, the manager left. Max took a deep breath and adjusted his peaked cap before knocking on the door. No one answered, so he knocked again. After the third knock, he sighed and decided to go inside himself. The moment the door opened, he was met by at least a dozen people. It wasn’t an office at all.

Stylists, makeup artists, and even a photographer. Everyone was busy.

Max thought he’d been brought to the wrong room and was about to step away when someone shouted, “Leigh! You’re finally here!”

He furrowed his brow and saw a hand waving above the crowd. The person was hidden among bodies, but the expensive gold bracelet alone made Max certain it was Scarlet.

“What the hell is this woman doing?” he muttered as he entered the busy room and made his way toward her. The staff was so focused, they didn’t even notice him come in.

When he finally reached Scarlet, after excusing himself past people, he was surprised to see she was only in undergarments. He immediately looked away out of respect.

“Leigh! I can’t believe you made it! I’m glad!” Scarlet practically shouted over the hair dryer. “I’d stand and kiss you, but I’m covered in makeup. I don’t want to stain your uniform.”

At least two people were doing her makeup, and two more were doing her hair. She almost looked like a princess getting ready for a grand ball.

“You gave us such a tight schedule, but I’m glad you agreed to meet even though you’re so busy,” Max said, almost choking on hairspray.

Scarlet was about to answer, but giggled instead when she noticed Max was still not looking at her. “No need to be decent now, we’re close friends,” she said, though she took a robe and put it on for his consideration.

When she was finally covered, Max looked back and handed her the cake. “This might not be the appropriate time, but I hope you’ll accept this.”

“Oh, Leigh, you shouldn’t have,” Scarlet said, snapping her fingers. Someone immediately arrived to take the cake from Max.

“I apologize for this chaos, but I have a photo shoot for Forbes later. I really wanted to meet you in a more formal setting, but I’m also flying to Singapore tomorrow. I’ll be there for a week for a grand opening, and I bet you don’t have the luxury to wait that long,” Scarlet said. The man who’d taken the cake returned with an extra chair and set it beside her for Max.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we could talk,” Max said, taking his seat.

“Do you mind if they continue their work while we talk?” Scarlet asked, gesturing to the makeup artists.

Max shook his head. “It’s fine. Better not to waste a single minute.”

“You’re such a darling, Max. Thank you. Now, I’m assuming you want to talk about your deal with the devil himself. It was brave of you to challenge the head of the Mills family like that. I would have loved to see it, but unfortunately, I was in Spain at the time. Mother was begging me to taste that new recipe she learned from a friend,” Scarlet said, making Max chuckle.

“You really do travel a lot, huh?”

“You know me. I’m always on demand,” Scarlet said with a wink.

“Can’t disagree with that. But you’re right, the deal with Mr. Christopher Mills was sudden, and honestly, it was because I lost my composure. I can’t say I’m having a hard time with it, but I’m not having the best time either. Do you have any advice?”

Scarlet, staring at herself in the mirror, didn’t look back as she asked, “Have you talked to Charles about this? Did he say anything?”

“I wanted you to meet him personally, but I guess we can do that next time. Honestly, he was glad I was helping him, even if I challenged his father in the heat of the moment. I still want to help genuinely. The helping  part is what’s truly difficult,” Max said.

“Well, what did you expect? His father is the head of the largest hidden stocks in the world. He has control over the biggest companies and investors. Looking for big investors isn’t just difficult—it’s impossible,” Scarlet said, leaning closer to the mirror to clean a smudge of lipstick.

“But thankfully, you came to the right person,” she added, glancing back at Max as her robe slipped off one shoulder, exposing her bra strap.

Max smirked and leaned closer, draping the robe back over her shoulder. “What magical advice can you give me then, Ms. Romano?”

Scarlet smirked and licked her upper teeth. “You see, Leigh, it’s impossible to look for investors because the ones you’re targeting are the big guys. As much as we want them to fund Charles’s failing company, they’ll never agree to your terms even if you make them major shareholders.”

“What do you suggest then?”

“Target the public,” Scarlet said, instantly making Max furrow his brow.

“The public?”

“That’s right. Mr. Christopher controls hidden stocks. Big companies need hidden stocks for a lot of reasons—tax evasion, corruption, whatever. It’s the illegal part of the business. But those companies are usually for elites or people with big names,” Scarlet explained, and Max began to see where she was going.

“Make Charles’s company a company for the public. Make it a household name that the masses can buy from. Make it a brand even street vendors will know. If you get that down, you’ll earn investors,” she said.

“So you’re telling me we’re targeting—”

“Small investors,” Scarlet finished. “You didn’t specify what kind of investors you were going to get, right? Then get small investors who don’t have hidden stocks. Get a lot of them. Five should do. Small companies usually prefer brands aimed at the masses because they reach more people.

Take this, for example: Christian Dior is a famous brand, and the people who usually buy from them are elites because it’s a luxury label. Zara, on the other hand, targets the masses because it’s more affordable. Their target audiences are completely different, but look, both companies are global brands, and both are making billions. In the end, it doesn’t really matter who buys from them.“

Max’s eyes widened. No wonder people sought her advice. She knew what she was talking about.

“The Mills company is like the Christian Dior of the tobacco business, so make Charles’s company the Zara.”

“How do I make it public then? How do I make CJ’s cigarettes a household name?” Max asked.

Scarlet checked her hair in the mirror. “Make the brand more affordable but retain the quality. You can do that by looking for manufacturers who haven’t handled big brands. Those who do usually raise their prices. Another thing is a common strategy called public display. Use a local celebrity or someone famous. Do it subtly, too. In-your-face marketing isn’t your forte. Organic is more your style, so get a photo of them using your brand at the airport. Something like that.”

“Celebrities?” Max asked, trying to think of someone who would fit. “That sounds like a good plan, but I don’t know any celeb—” He stopped as something occurred to him.

Max wasn’t the type to get acquainted with celebrities, but he had, fortunately, met one recently.

“Have you heard of the band called Monarchs?” Max asked, and in an instant, all the staff in the room stopped what they were doing to look at him.

Scarlet, who had been checking her makeup, also turned in surprise. “Have I heard of the band called Monarchs? Did you seriously just ask me that?” Scarlet asked in disbelief.

“The Monarchs are literally the biggest indie band at the moment. Every teenager knows them. They’re even releasing an album tomorrow. Everyone’s talking about it.”

Max was surprised by the response. He slowly reached into his pocket and showed her something, making Scarlet gasp.

“No…you did not…”

“Do you think they’ll be enough for people to know about CJ’s company?” Max asked.

Scarlet immediately snatched the calling card from his hand and shouted, “What the hell are you even thinking?! Call them…now!”

|END|

95 | King Flavor

♞

DISCLAIMER

Again, smoke responsibly or not at all. This is especially for my underage readers. Don’t follow Max’s footsteps.

NOT EVERYONE IS   GIVEN the ability to think of a quick solution, but lucky for CJ—even after years of hiding in the dark—he had been given the privilege of assistance by one of the most famous heirs in the world: a Sinclaire.

“That kid is really something. Even after everything he’s been through, it seems not a lot can waver him,” CJ said as he stared at the cigarette packages on his desk.

“It’s either he has a strong mindset, or he’s already too used to betrayal. Either way, both are frightening traits,” he added, picking up a cigarette pack labeled the King flavor. CJ had been working on this flavor for months, and the final sample had arrived today. It was the last flavor that would complete the King’s Tobacco set.

CJ took a stick from the pack and studied it. Unlike other cigarettes, the paper was black, just like their uniform. Beyond the color, the real uniqueness was inside.

“I hope this works,” CJ said, pulling out his lighter. He was about to spark the tip when his phone began to ring, stopping him mid-movement.

He placed the stick back in the pack and pocketed the lighter to grab his phone. The caller ID showed an unknown number. Not caring if it was a prank, CJ answered without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“CJ, it’s me, Max…” the caller said, surprising him.

“Max? How’d you get my number?”

“I got it from Krist.”

“Why on earth would Krist still have my number?” CJ asked, more surprised by that than by Max calling on his own.

“That’s not really important now, is it?” Max said quickly. “Bring your cigarettes and take your leave. I’m already waiting outside your building.”

CJ immediately stood and went straight to the window. Just as Max had said, a luxury car with a Sinclaire emblem on the hood was parked out front. CJ chuckled.

“So you really are here. Now what, you going to take me on a date?”

“Was that what you were expecting? Too bad,” Max replied slyly.

“Oh yeah, I’m not Vice President Gavriil,” CJ said. The air between them shifted. The brief silence told CJ he’d flustered Max.

“Alright, let’s not go there. Just get your ass here.”

CJ laughed harder and headed back to his desk. He took all six flavors and shoved them into his pockets before leaving his office. Employees greeted him. Rosemary, his secretary, hurried out to catch up.

“Master Charles, is there a problem? Was something wrong with the new flavor?” she asked.

“I haven’t tried it yet,” CJ said, glancing at her. “I’m heading out. Handle things here.”

Rosemary looked surprised, but she nodded and bowed as he left. Outside, CJ ended the call and knocked on the car window. The glass slid down to reveal the heir still in his white uniform.

“Why are you—”

“I’ve been busy. Get in,” Max said. 

CJ smirked and climbed inside.

Étienne, in the driver’s seat, eyed CJ in the rearview mirror with something close to a glare. When their eyes met, CJ winked, and Étienne immediately looked away and pulled into traffic.

“Alright, so what the hell is going on? Have you come up with a plan yet?” CJ asked, turning to Max beside him.

Max wasn’t wearing his peaked cap or his uniform coat, but he still looked put together.

“I didn’t make a plan, but someone else did,” Max said, and CJ frowned.

“The friend I mentioned before was Scarlet Romano. She was kind enough to give us advice, and thanks to her, I know something we can do to make your brand skyrocket,” Max explained, and CJ shifted to face him more seriously.

“As she advised…we’re making Kings Tobacco a public brand for the masses,” Max said, surprising the count.

“Big investors will never help us, even if we assure them ninety percent of the company’s take. It won’t work. But if we target the middle class, we’ll have better chances with smaller investors,” he continued, and CJ nodded in understanding.

“I see. I never planned to make it a luxury brand like the Mills Tobacco Company anyway, so that’s not a problem,” CJ said.

“If you’re worried about your father, we can use Anthony’s name rather than yours, so investors won’t face trouble with your family. Anthony is your co-founder, right?”

“That’s not necessary. My father isn’t shallow enough to target small investors. He’d rather use his time doing something more productive. The only problem is that if we make it for the masses, the brand will be more exposed. If we fail even once, the general public will hop on the bandwagon and drop us,” CJ said, the concern clear in his voice.

Max didn’t agree. Instead, he grabbed CJ by the shoulders and said, “It’s not going to fail. I’ve tried your cigarettes, and trust me…they were the best I’ve ever had.”

Silence filled the car. Something sparked inside CJ—something that had long gone cold. Beyond his brotherhood, Max was the first to say something like that to him.

So this was what it felt like to be believed in.

CJ nearly teared up.

“If I compare them to Mills Tobacco, I’d say theirs tastes like shit next to yours,” Max added, and CJ laughed it off.

“Well, I am amazing after all. What did you expect?” CJ joked, and Max let go.

“Alright, so what’s next? How do we make the brand public? How do we reach people?” CJ asked. Max grinned and pulled out a card. CJ’s eyes widened as he recognized it.

“I was annoyed you had them tail me earlier, but their appearance turned out beneficial for both of us,” Max said as CJ took the card. “The Monarchs, your underlings, will help advertise. As you said, you can’t use a cigarette without a lighter, right? Then let’s put that saying to the test and see for ourselves.”

…

Max and CJ entered a studio at the address the Monarchs’ manager had sent. Étienne waited outside, so it was just the two of them. Inside, the four band members, who were dressed casually, stood with their manager, the same one Max had spoken to minutes ago.

They were scattered about, busy, but the moment they saw CJ, they dropped everything to greet him.

“Boss!”

The four bowed to CJ and deliberately ignored Max. CJ waved them back down. “No need for that. We’re not in J.S. High.”

“But it would be awkward to treat you differently,” Heaven, the bassist, said, making CJ chuckle.

“Whatever. Do what you want,” CJ said, throwing himself onto the sofa like he’d been here a hundred times.

As the Monarchs humored their leader, the manager approached Max and offered a hand. “Sinclaire, right? We talked earlier.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Jefferson …”

“Jeff is fine,” he said, handing Max a folder. “These are each member’s talent fees. If you want all of them to use the product you mentioned, it’ll cost more.”

The sudden money talk surprised Max, and the band, too. So Axel strode over and snatched the folder from Max’s hand. “No need for that. We’re doing it for free,” he said, stunning the manager.

“What do you mean by free? You can’t advertise something for free. We’re not a char—”

“This man is Charles Justin Mills,” Axel said, pointing at CJ. 

The manager froze. Max thought the shock was at the surname, but Axel continued, “He’s our biggest sponsor. Without him, we wouldn’t have debuted. Advertising his product shouldn’t be so hard now, should it, Mr. Jefferson?”

Max’s eyes widened, though deep down he wasn’t surprised. CJ would absolutely do that for his underlings. But what really surprised him was that CJ had sponsored them even while broke. Seems like his underlings really mattered to him. After all, he had practically invented the underlings system.

“You’re Mr. Mills?! Oh—how rude of me,” the manager blurted, rushing to seize CJ’s hand. “It’s foolish of me not to know what you look like. You’re just younger than I expected, so I didn’t—”

CJ pulled his hand back. “Buy us some coffee. No sugar.”

“C-coffee? Right away, sir,” the manager said, bolting out of the room.

Roman laughed and dropped onto the sofa beside CJ. “That’s our boss. I’m glad you put him back in place. He always acts as if he owns us.”

Max stepped closer and got to the point.

“Before I begin, thank you for accepting this,” he said, and the four finally turned toward him.

“You were so annoyed by us earlier, but you really did call,” Axel said. “Don’t worry. Our boss said to assist you with everything we can, so he’s the one you should thank.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Max nodded back in response.

“Alright, here’s the plan. Your manager says you’re doing a live stream in thirty minutes. During that time, we want you to use the product casually. We have one shot to make it viral. We’ll be subtle—overt ads get fifty–fifty reactions. But if fans see you use it naturally, it feels personal. Authenticity sells.”

“That’s fine. It’s not even a lie. We’ve always wanted to try that cigarette, but the boss here never lets us. It’s also hard to get since it’s not sold locally yet,” Jaehyuk said.

Max looked at CJ, quietly judging him for not even letting them try his own product, but CJ only shrugged.

Max sighed and continued. “Which flavor should you use? Your best-seller?”

CJ didn’t answer. He pulled six packs from his pockets and laid them on the table.

“Whoa, these look cool,” Axel said, and they each grabbed a pack.

Max noticed a black pack he hadn’t seen before.

“This is new…” he murmured, opening it to reveal a black stick with a red lining. “It smells sweet.” He checked the label and blinked.

“King flavor? You finally have one?”

CJ nodded.

“It’s settled then. Use this. Launching the new flavor lets us anchor the rest. What do you think?” Max asked.

CJ hesitated. He hadn’t even tried it yet, but with how confident Max looked, he decided to take the risk. “Okay. I think it’s fine. If you don’t like how it tastes, you’ll fake it anyway, right? I can make the adjustments later on before the actual release.”

Heaven leaned in to look. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it look like it’s the best cigarette in the world.”

CJ chuckled, and Max handed the pack to Axel. “Use it on the live. No need to mention the brand. Just pull it out and use it. That’s it. Let’s hope it catches.”

“How many fans do you even have?” CJ asked, genuinely. Max found it odd that their sponsor didn’t know.

“Honestly, not much. We’re not superstars. But our lives pull at least twenty thousand,” Roman said, surprising Max. He honestly expected less from an indie band.

“Twenty thousand is a lot. You don’t know how strong a fanbase can be,” Max pointed out.

The manager soon returned with the coffee, passing cups around, then adjusted the cameras for the live.

“Boss, we’re about to start. Any words of encouragement?” Heaven asked as the band filed into the booth with their instruments.

CJ pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Before putting it to his lips, he looked at the Monarchs. “Good luck.”

They smiled and stepped into the booth. Max, CJ, and Jeff moved to the other side of the glass.

“We’ll begin the live in two minutes. Get ready,” Jeff said, pressing a button.

Axel nodded and hummed to warm up.

“Are they singing first?” Max asked. 

Jeff nodded, then checked viewers on his phone. As soon as he saw the numbers, his eyes widened. “We have about seventy thousand viewers?!” he exclaimed, startling the band through the glass.

“W-what?! Why did it triple? We never get that many! Are we getting hacked?!” Roman cried out. But before Jeff could answer, Max’s phone buzzed.

When he opened his phone, he saw a message from his butler. It was a link. Max clicked on it and was brought to a post. At first, he was confused, but when he read through the caption, a grin instantly appeared on his face.

“That woman…” Max said, smiling. CJ leaned in, saw the photo, and laughed.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/3a75f3a1fdbd5c44b26281f273980645f59d3d12/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f48305237694b37417742306333513d3d2d313134303539353335362e313862313732346262333634626330393234313133313237393232322e706e67)               

“Did you make a deal with that woman? You know it’s more dangerous to deal with her than with me?” CJ asked.

“Don’t worry. She just requested a dinner date with all four when she gets back from Singapore. That’s alright with you, Mr. CEO?” Max teased, and CJ laughed again. Monarchs had their own loyal fanbase, but a shoutout from a top heiress was definitely a huge boost, especially for casual listeners.

“Let’s not waste this opportunity. Let’s go!”

The stream finally began. The Monarchs opened with the title track, Lucifer’s Therapy .

CJ and Max watched closely. Max wasn’t much into music, and it was his first time hearing a live set up close. He didn’t want to sound like he was trying to be hip either, but he was impressed. He might even become a fan.

“No wonder Scarlet likes them,” Max said.

“Yeah…” was all CJ managed to say, sipping his coffee.

As the song went on, Max glanced at CJ and caught the look in his eyes.  I’m proud of you guys. That’s what it said . CJ wasn’t the type to flaunt his care for people, but he clearly cared about those who believed in him: his underlings, his brotherhood, and his employees. Who would have known he had a soft side?

“Thank you,” Max said suddenly.

“Thank you? For what?”

“For trying to tell me the truth about what my family did to me,” Max said, eyes on the band. “I know it’s out of the blue, but I wanted to say it. You seem like the type who’d rather have people hate you. But you’re a truthful man, CJ. You should start being truthful to yourself, too.”

CJ was taken aback and had no reply. Thankfully, the song ended, and the live officially began.

“Hello everyone, we’re the Monarchs!” Roman greeted as the others set their instruments down and took seats. “My name is Roman Fulwood, the drummer.”

“Hi, I’m Jung Jaehyuk.”

“Good evening, everyone. I’m the bassist, Heaven Carter.”

“And I am Axel Jean Dumont. Thank you for tuning in tonight. The song you just heard is called Lucifer’s Therapy . It’s the title track of our fourth digital album, Dear Devil , releasing at 3:00 a.m.,” Axel said as they glanced at the monitor to read comments.

“Tonight we’ll talk about the album, listen to snippets of all the tracks, and update you on what we’re planning after release,” Heaven added.

The live ran for a few minutes as viewership climbed. Then it was time.

“Look, he’s pulling out the pack,” Max said, watching as Axel drew a stick while the others chatted about the previous song. “We only have a couple of seconds. I hope the fans notice. Even a few is enough,” he then murmured, anxious.

Axel flicked his lighter, took a drag—then his eyes widened the moment he tasted it.

“ O-oh no, is it spicy ?“ Max whispered, clutching his cup.

“Just watch,” CJ said, grinning.

Axel exhaled—and Max, Jeff, and even the other members stared in surprise.

“Red…the smoke is fucking red. H-how? How did you do that?!” Max blurted in amazement, and CJ laughed in satisfaction.

Axel kept smoking, red-tinted vapor curling from his lips. He smirked, too. He knew fans would be snapping shots.

“It took a while to gather the ingredients. I spent most of my time and the last of my money on that one pack. It’s pricier than the others, but still affordable enough for teenagers willing to pay. If we get investors, I can mass-produce it,” CJ said, leaving Max in awe.

“You’re too good to be working for your father, CJ. Thank God you left,” Max said, making CJ laugh.

Max glanced at Jeff’s phone. The comments were flooding in. Everyone was asking about the cigarette.

“Yo, Axel, your cigarette’s getting so much attention they forgot about us,” Roman joked, and the others laughed.

Axel set the stick aside and casually pulled the pack into view. “Sorry. A friend recommended this brand, and I’ve been smoking it ever since. Anyway, next song.”

He slid the pack back into his pocket. The live rolled on smoothly.

“That was insane. What flavor was that?” Max asked.

CJ kept his eyes on his underlings. “Strawberry.”

“Strawberry? Why use strawberry for the King flavor?”

CJ paused. In that heartbeat, Max thought his expression shifted—sad, regretful—an expression he hadn’t shown anyone in a very long time. “It’s Viktor’s favorite,” he suddenly admitted. “It’s the last thing we shared together…before things went down to ashes.”

|END|

96 | End Of The Deal

♞

THE NEXT MORNING, EVERYTHING that had happened last night almost felt like a lucid dream. The live stream had gone extremely well and had nearly reached the 100,000-view mark. Dozens of people were talking online about the cigarette brand Axel had used, and thousands of buyers had begun calling the company.

Everything had gone exactly as Scarlet predicted. Because of that single live stream, CJ and Anthony were already signing with three investors.

“Are we all settled now, Mr. Charles?” the investor asked. CJ and Anthony rose from their seats, and CJ extended his hand.

“We’re glad to do business with you, Mr. Quinn,” CJ said. The investor happily shook his hand before Rosemary escorted him out.

As soon as the door closed, Anthony collapsed onto the sofa and unbuttoned his coat. “That was the third one today. This is the busiest we’ve ever been. I couldn’t even imagine signing with investors, let alone pulling it off with your family blocking all our opportunities.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy about it,” CJ said, sitting beside his right-hand man and co-founder, Anthony Rockefeller.

Anthony laughed and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. CJ flicked his lighter and lit it for him.

Anthony inhaled, held the smoke for a beat, then let it out. “How could I not be, when I spent all my savings on this business to the point my father nearly took my inheritance away?”

“Do you want me to go down on my knees to thank you then?” CJ teased.

“I’d honestly love that.”

The two laughed, but as the atmosphere quieted, CJ looked at the broken television in his office and chuckled to himself.

Anthony raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking what was so funny. CJ turned back to him. “I can’t believe I was so furious at Sinclaire that I ended up smashing that TV. He was an annoying boy, but now I see why I got so mad at him.”

“Enlighten me,” Anthony said, exhaling smoke.

CJ picked up the signed papers on the table and studied them. “He has the personality I wanted. I thought people broke easily—give them enough shit, and they’d turn to ashes, just like me. But he was different. He was broken, but he took the sharp pieces and used them as weapons against his monsters. He fought back and controlled them. He learned to take control, and that’s why he excels.”

Anthony slowly lowered his cigarette. CJ wasn’t one to show emotion, but Anthony knew he carried plenty of it, deep and unresolved.

“It’s scary how I’m starting to understand why Master Joker and Hans submitted to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up bowing to him, too,” Anthony said, making CJ laugh.

CJ snatched the cigarette from him and took a drag. “Not a chance. I’m never going to bow to a Sinclaire.”

Anthony grinned, unconvinced, but he didn’t press.

“The ones who should be bowing to him aren’t us,” CJ added.

“What do you mean?”

CJ exhaled the smoke in one long breath, stubbed out the cigarette on the glass table, and answered, “His family. They’re the ones who’ll have to bow to him. They chose a terrifying enemy, and as our old president Grey said, men like him don’t just bark…” He paused, then finished, “…they fucking bite. Hard.”

…

Max listened attentively to the lecture. Half the class was nearly asleep, but the other half scribbled notes furiously, especially with semestral exams around the corner.

“Now, the cognitive theory explains that children have to go through different stages of development,” said Ms. Virgil Mac y, their psychology and sociology professor. “We talked about the sensorimotor stage earlier, where object permanence develops. What comes next?”

A student at the back shot his hand up. “The preoperational stage.”

“Good. The preoperational stage focuses on…”

As Ms. Virgil continued, Max’s phone began to vibrate. He wanted to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop. Quietly excusing himself, he slipped out of the room.

He checked the caller ID. Unexpectedly, it was his butler, Étienne.

“Étienne, what is it? I have class,” Max answered, irritation in his voice.

“I apologize, Master, but I just received an email,” Étienne explained.

“An email? What email?”

“You did it, Master Leigh. Chairman Christopher Mills has requested to meet with you…today,” Étienne revealed.

Max’s eyes widened.

“You’re downstairs already, right? I’ll be right there.” He cut the call and ran, texting Ari as he sprinted to the Keep: Give Marcus my bag. I have something urgent. Cover for me.

When he spotted Étienne, he dove into the car, and Étienne closed the door before hurrying to the driver’s seat.

“When did you get the message?” Max asked, noticing a change of clothes already laid out beside him.

“Twenty minutes ago. I also contacted Mr. CJ Mills’s secretary for the documents regarding the investors. I have them on my tablet,” Étienne replied.

“Alright, send it to me later,” Max said, already unbuttoning his coat and removing his peaked cap. “This is it, Étienne. The moment I’ve been waiting for. Everything I endured led me here.”

Étienne met his eyes in the mirror and nodded. “Your meeting with Chairman Christopher will determine your future, Leigh. Once you settle this, you’ll regain your inheritance, and everything will return to normal.”

“Will it, though?” Max asked quietly as he changed coats.

Étienne nearly stopped the car, but kept his poker face and drove on.

“Once I get it back, I can focus on J.S. High again. It’s been a while since I’ve done something productive. I can’t slow down now, not with the first semester ending,” Max said, and Étienne relaxed a little.

He then adjusted his tie, his calm expression hardening into something sharp and dangerous. “As soon as everything goes back to ’ normal ’, I’ll take the company and put everyone back in their place. They’ve called me a monster too many times. Let them see my fangs. I’ll make them regret ever challenging me,” Max vowed, his voice making Étienne swallow hard.

It had been years since he’d seen Max like this. The boy he once knew was gone. This Max was smarter, stronger, and far more cunning. Anyone who tried to break him now would fail.

“We’ve arrived, Master Leigh…”

Étienne parked in front of the Mills Tobacco Company. Max stepped out, Étienne at his side, and three employees awaited them.

“Sir Sinclaire, it is a pleasure to finally have you here. Chairman Christopher is in his office. Please, follow me,” one said, bowing. While another took Étienne’s keys. 

Inside, employees stopped to stare. Everyone knew the story—the boy who had publicly challenged the business tycoon at the Mills anniversary. Simply being there meant Max had fulfilled the deal. Whispers of amazement followed him.

“I apologize, we didn’t bring a gift for the chairman. The request was sudden,” Max said in the elevator.

The man swiped a card to send them up, then looked at Max through the reflection. His smile faltered when he met Max’s eyes, his body freezing. For a young boy, his presence was no doubt intimidating. The rumors about him were definitely true.

“The chairman is only—”

“The chairman is only what?” Max asked, voice low.

The man gulped.

“I do hope he didn’t call me here to waste my time. That would be very unprofessional,” Max said, sarcasm sharp.

“O-of course not, Mr. Sinclaire! We’d never waste your time!” the man stammered. Even Étienne grinned.

When the elevator doors opened, they followed the employees to Christopher’s office.

“Here we are, Sir Sinclaire. Unfortunately, the chairman can only spare ten minutes,” the man said.

CJ had said his father wasn’t shallow, but Max doubted it. Yet, he smiled politely. “Ten minutes is plenty. I expected less,” he admitted.

Flustered, the man snapped his fingers, and the double doors opened.

Inside, the office gleamed with windows and city views. Behind the desk sat Chairman Christopher Justin Mills himself, his stare just as intimidating.

“Chairman,” Max greeted, touching his chest and bowing. Étienne bowed deeper.

The chairman said nothing, but gestured at the chair in front of his desk. Max nodded and sat, Étienne behind him.

“I thank you for your time, and I promise I’ll be brief,” Max said, signaling Étienne to place the tablet on the desk. “These documents prove I found investors for your son. His sales rose eighty percent just last night and continue climbing. I also have a copy of—”

“I don’t care about what you just showed me,” Christopher interrupted, making Max stop.

The chairman adjusted in his seat. “Why did you go to such lengths? What did you gain from helping my son pick up the trash he calls a company?”

The last remark made Max clench his fist.

“Trash he calls a company?” Max echoed, his tone dangerous. The chairman raised a brow.

“For your information, Chairman Christopher, Kings Tobacco has the best employees and the best products. And its founder, Mr. Charles, has ideas you can’t even imagine. His skills surpass even your employees. Don’t belittle his efforts when you don’t know the sacrifices he’s made to keep that company alive. I don’t care what he did to you—you lost your most talented man the moment you disowned him,” Max said, nearly standing.

The atmosphere turned electric.

Christopher said nothing immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and stared at Max quietly, as if trying to see something beyond the angry boy sitting in front of him.

Max didn’t back down from the gaze.

For a brief moment, Christopher almost saw another man standing there instead—a stubborn young chairman who once walked into his collapsing company and offered him a hand when everyone else turned away.

Then the chairman suddenly chuckled, his expression softening slightly.

“You really are like your grandfather,” he said, surprising Max.

“He was nosy, but skillful. When we were young, this company was on the verge of bankruptcy during the recession. I sought help everywhere, but no one reached out—no one but your grandfather, Ulysses.”

Max and Étienne looked at each other. They didn’t know that story.

“What you said earlier, about sacrifices, I know them well. I’ve begged. I’ve been hopeless. I’ve experienced them all,” Christopher added.

“Then why do the same to your son?” Max asked, this time not in defiance, but in honesty.

Christopher sighed and adjusted a picture frame. It showed him with his children, years younger.

“My affairs with my son are mine alone. What I decide about Charles is for my own selfish reasons,” he said.

Max chuckled. “You sound just like my father.”

“Then I’m sure we’re both hated.”

“Probably,” Max honestly agreed. “But you shouldn’t settle for that. Fathers should remember that their children won’t always be kids. They grow. They become strong enough to stand alone. They don’t always need protecting,” Max said, and for a second, Christopher considered it.

After a long silence, Christopher straightened.

“Alright. Since you’re here, let’s finish this. Though I never agreed to your terms, you fulfilled your end of the deal. And as a man of my word, I’ll listen. So what is your request, Maximilian?”

Max’s heart pounded, but he composed himself. This was his chance.

“I want you to sponsor me,” he said, making Christopher’s face turn serious again.

“As you know, my father took my inheritance and gave it to my brother, Marcus. There’s little I can do about that. But you can sponsor me. If you declare you’ll pull your hidden stocks unless I become chairman, my father will have no choice but to return my inheritance.”

Christopher studied him.

“Your father knows I’m loyal to the Lemieux. Even if I pull out, he might let it go,” he said.

“I know. That’s why I want the companies you control to sponsor me too,” Max said, surprising the chairman. “You have thirty-two companies under you. Nine are our stockholders. If they all pull out, our company will be in crisis.”

“You realize this is a double-edged sword? If your father doesn’t make you heir, you’ve just destroyed your own company,” Christopher warned.

Max grinned, and once again, Christopher saw his old friend in him. The nostalgia was bittersweet.

“As we say, sacrifices must be made. This is one I’m willing to make to reclaim the company. Will you help me, Chairman Christopher?”

The chairman rubbed his temple, muttering as though he were losing his mind. Finally, after careful consideration, he sighed.

“Alright, Maximilian…” The chairman of the Mills company rose and extended his hand in front of Max. “I will sponsor you.”

|END|

97 | Take What’s Mine

♞

DOZENS OF PRESS WERE waiting outside the main building of Sinclaire Corporation. An insider had revealed that today, November 9, 2023, Thursday, at exactly 2:00 p.m., the board of directors, CEO Jean-Paul D’Amboise, and Chairman Denzel Sinclaire himself would have a private meeting with the Chairman of the Mills Tobacco Company and the nine corporate stockholders under him.

As reported, Max would also be at the meeting, but what the press didn’t know was that Marcus Thompson, the illegitimate son and supposedly new heir of Sinclaire Corporation, would also be present.

“I can’t believe Max actually pulled this off. No one in their right mind would risk the company’s future like this, but he did. To have that much confidence, there is no doubt he’s rank one,” Marcus said to himself as he looked out the car window.

The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “The guards messaged earlier and said the main entrance is full of press. I’ll have to drop you at the back, Sir Marcus.”

Marcus took a deep breath and fixed his necktie. “It’s fine. Even if you drop me at the front, no one will know who I am anyway.”

“That’s not an option, sir. Your sudden appearance might spark rumors and conspiracies. You should remain hidden from the public eye,” the driver said, and Marcus sighed again.

“My father has been hiding my identity to protect his image, but as soon as something happens, he’ll throw me to the press with no hesitation. He’s a selfish man, after all,” Marcus said aloud. The driver said nothing.

“Whatever, just drop me anywhere. My appearance doesn’t matter. History will be made today, and the business world will shake. I hope you and everyone loyal to my father are ready,” Marcus said, turning back to the window.

They arrived at the company and, as the driver had mentioned, parked at the back where four guards were waiting. The driver opened Marcus’s door. Marcus stepped out, and the guards touched their chests and bowed.

The general public didn’t know about Marcus, but people deeply involved in the business world, especially those at Sinclaire Corporation, knew him. That’s why when it was announced that he was the new heir, a handful of loyalists were thrilled.

People at the company followed Denzel. They weren’t huge fans of Luna, which meant they weren’t in favor of Max either. But their hatred weighs less than the fact that Max was and always will be the most deserving.

Other than being the son of a mistress, Marcus had shown no interest in working for the Sinclaires, which the company disliked. Having been exposed to their world and seen how Max had been treated by it, Marcus swore never to involve himself in business.

He thought of pursuing medicine or law, something other heirs would deem normal. And that normalcy is the very reason why Max is born different.

No one, even Max himself, could imagine him having a normal life. He was born and bred to rule the very world that had traumatized and killed others. He had the perfect family background, the skill set, the mindset, and the attitude to make even the toughest CEO’s bend their knees.

That was why, even at a young age, people had done everything they could to make sure he fell. He had survived multiple kidnapping attempts and had guns pointed at him when he was a child.

Today marked another attempt to get rid of him, but this time, his own family planned it. Regardless of Denzel’s reason, he had still taken Max’s inheritance away. He had still been willing to throw away Max’s hard work and sacrifice under the illusion that it would somehow protect him.

But Denzel was wrong. Taking Max’s inheritance would not protect him from those who had targeted him-and would still target him.

As Max phrased it, Denzel was wrong to belittle him. He didn’t trust Max enough, despite knowing he could protect himself.

But what did Denzel really fear? Was he afraid that the same group who had always tried to kill Luna would come after him, too, or was he afraid of something else?

Was he afraid that the more Max became involved with the company, the more he would start to remember something the Sinclaires had desperately tried to hide?

“Sir Marcus, your father has been waiting,” one of the guards said as they escorted him inside.

“Who’s already in the meeting room?” Marcus asked.

“All the directors are there, as well as CEO Jean and Chairman Denzel,” the guard answered.

“I bet Max is going to arrive fashionably late and make a statement like he always does,” Marcus said, a little excited about what he’d witness when Max and Chairman Christopher arrive.

When he got to the elevator, employees stopped to greet him. He wanted to say something to them, but then camera flashes erupted at the entrance as everyone swarmed the cars that had just arrived.

Marcus paused to see who it was. He had expected Max, but instead, the CEOs under Chairman Christopher began entering the building, followed by the chairman himself. The press tried to follow, but a dozen guards blocked the entrance.

Employees could hardly believe that someone like Chairman Christopher was in their building. His presence alone made them swallow hard.

Marcus didn’t move as the chairman approached with the nine CEOs who had come to sponsor Max. When they stopped in front of him, Marcus bowed. “Chairman Christopher, it is an honor to meet you,” he told him.

The chairman eyed Marcus, remembering who he was.

“I saw you at the party. You were with your father, isn’t that right?” he asked, and Marcus nodded.

“I apologize for not greeting you then, but I’m more apologetic now because of why I’m here. It seems this meeting will affect you more. I hope you won’t hold a grudge. It’s just business,” the chairman said, making Marcus chuckle.

“Please, no need. If anything, I’m thankful you’re doing this. I never wanted to be the heir anyway, so I hope things go according to your plan,” Marcus said loudly enough for nearby employees to hear.

Chairman Christopher chuckled as well. But then he stepped closer, patted Marcus’s shoulder, and whispered, “ I’m glad you know your place here, Thompson .“

A chill crawled up Marcus’s spine at the chairman’s intimidating eyes. In that moment, he realized where Christopher’s loyalty truly lay: with the Lemieux, not the Sinclaires.

“Chairman…” his bodyguard said, gesturing at the elevator that had arrived.

The chairman smiled at Marcus, patted his shoulder again, and stepped into the elevator with the other CEOs. Marcus kept smiling until the doors closed. Then his expression hardened.

“I can’t believe Max persuaded a man like him. How did he face him when he looked ready to crush anyone in his way,” Marcus thought, trying to forget the chairman’s intimidating smile.

Another elevator arrived, and Marcus and his four bodyguards entered. As it carried them to the top floor, Marcus smirked at his reflection.

As important as this was to Max, it was important to Marcus too. This marked the day he could finally be free of his father’s clutches and control. Starting today, he would no longer be a pawn of the Sinclaires.

…

The press grew restless. Ten minutes had passed since Chairman Christopher and the others arrived, yet Max was still nowhere in sight. His absence only sharpened the anticipation. After all, Maximilian Leigh Sinclare was a household name. A single photo of him could fetch thousands, and the longer he remained unseen, the more the crowd’s impatience turned into restless curiosity.

“What’s going on? Is he really coming?” a reporter complained.

The sun beat down on them. They were sweating and agitated. If Max didn’t arrive, it would all be a waste.

“Remember, his car is black and has a Sinclaire hood emblem. We can’t miss it,” another reporter said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

As they waited, a photographer squinted at a white Rolls-Royce Ghost approaching in the distance. When it drew closer, he saw the hood emblem, and his eyes widened. It wasn’t the Sinclaire crest.

“L-Lemieux…It’s a Lemieux emblem!”

That announcement sent everyone running toward the pavement. Cameras powered on as the car rolled up.

It stopped directly in front of the building for maximum access. No guards came to push the press back. One person stepped out: Max’s loyal butler, Étienne.

His face alone set off a flurry of shutters. Even the general public knew him as Max’s shadow.

Étienne didn’t push anyone away as he approached the back door. It was obvious that Max wanted everyone to see him.

Finally, he opened it…and Max emerged, wearing a dark red suit with golden chains on the coat. It was definitely a statement.

Cameras flashed. The boy known to hate public attention faced the press proudly for the first time, looking straight into the lenses with a smug curl to his lips. He oozed a new kind of confidence.

“Maximilian, how are you feeling today?”

“Can you give us a statement regarding this private meeting?”

“What does this meeting mean to you?”

Microphones crowded his path, but Max didn’t speak. He smiled and waved as he walked, but then one question made him stop.

“Will you be taking back your inheritance today, Sir Maximilian?” a reporter asked.

Max stopped and looked directly into the camera. “I’m not only taking my inheritance back,” he answered calmly. “I’m taking everything back.”

Étienne moved then, blocking and pushing the press aside as they headed inside. Guards streamed out to clear a path, and when Max and Étienne entered, employees bowed one by one in respect.

Max couldn’t help a satisfied smirk. It felt like only days ago when some of these people had spoken behind his back. But now, with his chance to regain everything, they bowed again.

“Master Leigh, let’s go,” Étienne said, leading him to the elevators.

They walked in, and as the doors closed, the noise from outside vanished in an instant. Only the hum of the elevator remained.

“Leigh,” Étienne called out through the silence. “Are you sure about this?”

Max stared at his reflection for a few seconds. “I’m sure.”

“If your father doesn’t agree to your terms? If he says he doesn’t care if Chairman Christopher and the nine other CEOs pull out-what then?” Étienne asked seriously.

“My father is a smart man-smart enough not to let his company be destroyed by a single decision. The moment I spoke to Chairman Christopher, he knew he had lost. This meeting has one outcome, and my father knows it. But if by any chance he still refuses, then I have no choice but to choose violence,” Max said. The last line carried a hint of sarcasm, so Étienne didn’t take it too seriously. Yet.

Étienne said nothing else and took a breath to steady himself. He was nervous for Max, but he trusted him. With everything the Sinclaires had done, and everything he himself had been forced to do, Étienne would always remain loyal to the Lemieux. He just needed more time to reveal the truth.

“We’ve done everything we can, so I will not let this plan fail,” Max said with steady resolve. Despite his confident demeanor, he was nervous too. As much as he wanted to act like the overly confident boy he had been before J.S. High, he couldn’t. The past months had humbled him.

Everything that happened at J.S. High had made him see the reality of things. No matter how powerful you seem, or how influential your family name is, it means nothing if you can’t stand up for yourself. If you can’t do anything yourself, you don’t deserve the top.

That was what Viktor had tried to tell him in that sudden call. Viktor said he needed enough bullets to conquer everything. If he wanted to be above everyone, he had to become the best.

“We shall conquer,” Max said, reciting the House of Kings’ official motto.

It made Étienne frown in confusion, but it fueled Max. It was his war cry.

“This is all or nothing.”

As they neared the top floor, Max’s phone vibrated. He hadn’t checked it since they left. But when he pulled out his phone, he wasn’t expecting to find hundreds of messages.

Max smiled.

A handful of them were messages from his friends:

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/0af3fcdf6aebe3a592509e53464d0e2ab4c17b7d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5535706d4d4c2d685964326748413d3d2d313134333031343331352e313862323231393465313831633331653538393239353632393034392e706e67)               

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/4b55d38cf2f907b221005ba08d7c3acb9234183c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f314a76353635336b68535f2d61773d3d2d313134333031343331352e313862323231393836386164316564623437323030363536383439332e706e67)               

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/f90014f5e07e620c90a06d02cdc2a57d543e7662/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f51454c353669714e5362356250513d3d2d313134333031343331352e313862323231393861393162333166303735383436343133313937302e706e67)               

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/4bb713301fbdb5d1af73796db3f6fc0bde6ae7f0/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6150534745593259424c354357413d3d2d313134333031343331352e313862323231396138313962326364323335373231333935353238352e706e67)               

Max continued smiling as he read through the messages. But when he read the last one, his expression faltered.

It came from an unknown number.

At first, he didn’t recognize who it was from, but after reading the message again, a familiar feeling crept in.

And then he knew exactly who had sent it.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/925d16d4b0111bfdfcdc9dfb22c6373d00ff43f2/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6d4a4c432d705766447035506c773d3d2d313134333031343331352e313862323231646536396461666564623931383233373037313334322e706e67)               

“ Gav …“ he whispered, hiding his smile from Étienne.

The elevator doors opened. Max pocketed his phone and stepped out first, Étienne close behind. As they walked toward the meeting room, Max spotted someone familiar and stopped.

The woman saw him and came straight over. When she was a meter away, she raised her hand and suddenly slapped him without hesitation, making nearby employees gasp.

Étienne started forward, but Max lifted a hand to stop him.

Max chuckled at the greeting, massaging his cheek. He looked back at her with a grin. “You’re not going to greet me with a respectful bow like before? Looks like you’re finally showing your true colors, Ms. Edith Thompson.”

Edith glared and slapped him again, and the employees wondered if she had lost her mind.

“Is this your revenge? It’s Marcus’s birthright to be heir. How dare you take that away from him?” she said.

Max wanted to laugh, but refrained himself.

“Are you really his mother? Because if you’d been paying attention, you’d know Marcus would rather die than inherit the company my mother built,” Max said, truthfully.

“How can you still act so high and mighty? Whatever you do today-your clever tricks and schemes-it won’t matter. Marcus is still the eldest son of the Sinclaires, the first son of Denzel, who is head of the family. He will still be the heir to this company, and he will obtain everything my fiancé has, while you get nothing,” Edith declared.

The grin vanished from Max’s face and was instantly replaced by something colder. “It looks like you’ve made a mistake, Ms. Thompson,” he said, leaning closer. “Just because I gave you a slice doesn’t mean you can have the whole cake. And let me correct you on something, too. This isn’t the Sinclaires’ company-”

Max paused and pulled out his Lemieux necklace so she could see it. Then he looked back at her and finished, “It’s the Lemieuxs. Always has been and always will be. Now leave while I’m still in a good mood.”

“How dare you. I won’t let you get your way, Maximilian! I’m not going to let you threaten me and my son like your monstrous mother did!” Edith shouted, drawing looks of judgment from the employees.

Max ignored her. He didn’t look back. Instead, he kept his eyes ahead…

Ahead to where he could finally take everything that was supposed to be his.

|END|

98 | The Awaited Outcome

♞

THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS was growing impatient. Everyone was already in the meeting room, but Max was still nowhere to be found.

“This is absurd. He should be here on time!” one of the directors complained.

Chairman Christopher, seated adjacent to Denzel, found the entire situation amusing. “You should give the boy some credit. You took his inheritance away—a boy who was the most capable of leading this company. You should understand he’s not exactly excited to see you all again after that.”

CEO Jean, Max’s second cousin, tried not to laugh as he scrolled the news on his phone.

The directors, on the other hand, were humiliated by his decision to visit their company just so he could go against them, but no one dared say a word. Chairman Christopher ruled a large swath of the underground business world. It would be foolish to make him an enemy.

“For your information, Chairman Chris, they did not take his inheritance away,” Denzel said. “It was simply a matter of birthright. It would be unfair for Marcus not to inherit when he is about to become the legal eldest.”

“What a stupid reason,” Christopher replied, almost laughing. “If I knew my eldest was useless, I wouldn’t hesitate to make my second son or daughter the rightful heir. It’s common sense.”

Marcus, seated on Denzel’s right, did not react even as the chairman subtly called him useless. He just wanted to get this over with.

“We’re a traditional family. You might not understand,” Denzel continued, but Chairman Christopher only slumped in his seat, uninterested in starting a debate.

While everyone waited, Denzel’s secretary, standing behind him, leaned in and whispered, “ Chairman, Master Maximilian has arrived. He’s outside .“

Denzel took a deep breath and suddenly stood, prompting the other directors to rise, though they didn’t know why.

A beat later, the door opened, revealing Max in a dark red suit. For a moment, Denzel thought he saw his brother, Janus. This was exactly the kind of stunt Janus would pull.

Dramatic. Eye-catching.

 It seemed Max had learned well at J.S. High.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Max greeted. When his eyes met his father’s, he bowed. “Chairman Denzel…”

Denzel said nothing and sat again, the rest following.

Almost everyone reacted blandly to Max’s entrance, but he shrugged it off, walked to Chairman Christopher, and sat on his right. As soon as he took his seat, Denzel’s secretary looked around the table and announced, “Since everyone is here, and as your chosen representative and middleman, I officially open this meeting. Chairman Denzel?”

Denzel adjusted in his chair, glanced at Max, then looked back at Chairman Christopher.

“As you requested this private meeting, I would like to ask you to state your business with us, Chairman Chris,” Denzel said respectfully, and Christopher nodded.

The chairman surveyed the table, drew a breath, and began. “First, I would like to thank everyone—especially Chairman Denzel and our chief executive officer, Mr. Jean—for allowing this meeting.”

Denzel and Jean nodded in acknowledgment.

“To begin, I will share a story. Thirty years ago, I swore to the old chairman, Ulysses Lemieux, that I would support this company until the day I die. Ulysses was a good friend and a reliable partner. After the changes in this company, I said nothing, despite being one of your biggest stockholders, because I believed Maximilian would take the position in the future. But the news regarding the change of heirs has finally broken my silence—”

Everyone listened attentively. While he spoke, Edith slipped into the room, hoping to hear the outcome firsthand. Her timing was the worst possible, because as soon as she entered, the chairman continued…

“I will not allow anyone who is not a Lemieux to inherit this company. Birthright or titles aside, I will only support Maximilian. Therefore, I, and the nine CEOs with me today, will pull out of this company if you continue to refuse Maximilian as your inheritor.”

The room erupted. Edith covered her mouth and grabbed the wall to keep from collapsing.

Denzel sighed and rubbed his temple. Deep down, he’d known something like this might happen. He just couldn’t believe Max had pulled it off so flawlessly. Persuading a man like Chairman Christopher took tremendous skill, and for that, Denzel gave Max full praise.

“How could you decide such a thing, Chairman Christopher?! You benefit from us as much as we benefit from you!” one director protested.

“Pulling out all these companies—t-this is preposterous!”

“Are you disrespecting our chairman’s decision to choose his heir?! What gives you the right to make such a thoughtless decision?!”

As the directors hurled their anger at the chairman, CEO Jean snapped, voice commanding, “All of you! Show respect to the chairman and let him finish his terms! This is not a brothel for you to be shouting all at once.”

Silence fell in an instant. 

All eyes returned to Chairman Christopher.

He breathed in, glanced at Max, then addressed the board. “I am not disrespecting Chairman Denzel’s decision to choose his eldest. I simply cannot agree,” he emphasized.

“Choosing someone besides Maximilian is a failure waiting to happen, and that is a risk I will not take. We are investors. Business is business. Money matters to us, and we believe only Maximilian will bring us more fortune than Mr. Thompson.”

Marcus nearly snorted.

Murmurs rose again, but Edith suddenly stepped forward. “How can you say that?! Marcus is as capable as that boy, maybe even better. How can you disregard all his efforts and—”

Denzel immediately slammed his fist on the table.

Edith froze at the unexpected outburst.

“Woman! Know your place and do not embarrass me. You are not to speak on our behalf,” Denzel quickly warned her.

Edith’s eyes glistened from anger and humiliation, and Marcus could only sigh. Despite being used by her most of his life, he still pitied her. He knew she had made sacrifices of her own to be where she was, but this was a sacrifice only she was willing to make.

“ Mother… please…“ Marcus whispered, taking her hand.

Edith looked between Denzel and Marcus in disbelief. When no one defended her, a single tear fell from her eye, and she yanked her hand away and stormed out of the room.

Whispers swirled, but Chairman Christopher ignored them. “Are there any more objections?” he asked.

The directors looked at one another. No one spoke.

“As I was saying,” Christopher continued, “these are our terms. Our partnership ends here and now if you do not change your heir. Know that this decision is absolute, and it is not the thoughtless choice you claim it to be.”

After all the noise, the room went quiet. Everyone looked to Chairman Denzel, waiting. But he remained silent, eyes fixed on Max.

“I would be a fool to say I didn’t expect this outcome,” Denzel said at last. “Max was always the perfect heir—a prodigy who knew the formula for success. My decision to make Marcus my heir was selfish and illogical.”

Some directors swallowed hard.

“As you said, the future of all our companies will be decided here. But before I declare my official statement, I have one question for my son…Maximilian.”

The request surprised Max, but he nodded, ready to listen.

Denzel took a breath. “Why did you do all this? Was it because of your love for Luna? Your love for the Lemieuxs? Or because of your love for the company?”

The question sounded simple, but Max knew it mattered more than anything to Denzel. He sat straighter, met his father’s eyes, and answered sincerely, “My love for this company reflects my love for both my families. I told you before: I am a Lemieux and a Sinclaire. I acknowledge and respect the work you’ve done for this company, which is why I wish to continue your legacy and that of my ancestors. It was never about who I loved more.”

The room stayed silent. Marcus and Jean fought with proud smiles.

Chairman Christopher nodded, impressed. Even the directors were left speechless.

Finally, Denzel looked around the room, then at his eldest son. Marcus, tired of the nonsense, touched his father’s arm and gave a small nod—his signal to wave the white flag.

After another long breath, Denzel rose.

“I have listened to your terms and your reasons. In truth, I had already decided this before the meeting began.”

He paused, glanced at Max…then bowed, just as he had bowed the day he stripped Max of his inheritance.

Hands flew to mouths. No one had expected it.

“Maximilian…if you allow it…I wish to return your title as the rightful heir to Sinclaire Corporation. With your skill and leadership, do you promise to uphold what you just told me? Will you bring this company to greater heights?”

Max, who had planned for this from the very beginning, clenched his fists to keep from crying. He had waited for this moment, yet it still felt unreal, almost like a dream. Faces of his friends flashed through his mind. People who believed in him from the very beginning made his chest beat faster.

While everyone waited, Marcus gave him an encouraging smile. Max rose and looked his father in the eye.

With a bright, victorious smile, he answered with complete resolve, “I won’t let you down, Chairman Denzel Sinclaire.”

Denzel chuckled and straightened to face him. “I’m looking forward to it…”

Chairman Christopher stood and began to clap. The nine CEOs followed, then Jean and Marcus, and finally the board of directors.

Just like that, the private meeting ended. After everything, things finally returned to normal.

Max thanked Chairman Christopher and the nine CEOs. Jean and Marcus embraced him warmly. Even the directors could not complain. As much as they disliked another Lemieux ruling over them, they could not deny that Max was the only heir capable of leading in the years to come.

“As today’s representative and middleman, I declare that an agreement has been made. This private meeting is now officially concluded. Thank you all for your negotiations.”

As everyone began to leave, Denzel and Max remained. Max wanted to go too, but he knew his victory came with consequences, consequences that only a conversation with his father could deliver.

“Alright, here it goes…”

The room was awkwardly silent. Max, though he had much to say, could not find the words. He rose and joined Denzel at the window overlooking the city.

“You always surpass my expectations, Maximilian. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t give up so easily,” Denzel said with a low chuckle.

Max smiled, hands in his pockets. “Well, you and Mother were always stubborn. I probably inherited that from both of you.”

Denzel laughed and nodded.

Silence fell again. He breathed deeply, eyes on the skyline. “Luna was an outstanding woman. Like you, I admired and respected her. She was smart and invincible, but that very trait drove her mad.”

Max frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

Denzel hesitated, weighing whether to reveal what he had long concealed. But after today, Max had to know. If he were to be the heir, he had to know and withstand the truth.

“Maximilian…” Denzel said, turning back to his son. “I’d like to tell you why I took your inheritance away. I’m not saying this to be forgiven. Nor am I trying to gain your trust back. But all I want is for you to see beyond what you believe in.”

Max swallowed and nodded. He had never expected his father to open up. This was a chance he never expected to get.

“My marriage to Edith stands,” Denzel began. “But as I announced, I will not make Marcus my heir despite him being the eldest. I’ve always known he didn’t want it, and even if I forced him to learn, it would be too late for him to grasp this world.”

“Why did you do it then? If you knew this would happen, why?” Max asked the question that had haunted him.

Denzel braced himself. The answer he was about to say was almost becoming unbelievable.

“Very dangerous people have targeted two of the most powerful families in the world, and one of them was the Lemieuxs. They’ve done it before, and I knew that if I didn’t act fast enough, history might repeat itself,” Denzel revealed.

“There was only one way to keep you safe, and that was to remove your title. I believed that if you held no power, no one would target you anymore. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.”

Max swallowed hard. He felt conflicted. He had suspected this would be the reason and thought he would be furious, but hearing it now, he wasn’t angry at all. Instead, he was sad and disappointed.

He had known of the people who had tried to kill him. It happened to him before, when he was younger. But what was the point in all this? Why did they raise him to be the one to lead their family if it was dangerous from the very beginning?

“You and Mother turned me into this,” Max said, his voice beginning to crack. “I never wanted this life. I wouldn’t be destroying myself over this goddamn company if it weren’t for the both of you.”

Denzel looked like he was getting swallowed in guilt and regret.

“Luna thought it would make you strong, just like it did to her. But I saw that she was leading you to the exact path that ruined her. I couldn’t stop her, and I have failed to protect you. If I had known how great the danger was, I should have taken you away. 

Max turned his head away. Denzel looked devastated. Max had never seen such an expression from him before. He couldn’t stomach seeing his father in such a state.

“Then why didn’t you?” Max asked, sounding like a child. “You didn’t protect me. You left me with my mother to be with your other woman, and then you decided to take everything away from me when my entire life has already been molded to protect all that you fear?”

“Do you seriously think I could take you away from her? From Luna?” his father asked, and Max forced himself to look back at him.

“You were her world—her most prized possession. She can watch the whole world burn just to protect you,” Denzel said, sounding hopeless. “She didn’t allow anyone else to hurt you, so she…”

Denzel stopped, catching himself.

Max furrowed his brows.

“She…what?”

Denzel closed his eyes and brushed his hair back in frustration. The once powerful Denzel had now become vulnerable.

“Your mother died in a car accident. Do you remember that?” he asked, and Max’s heart began to race, almost like it was warning him of what was about to come.

“Y-Yes. I remember.”

Denzel readied himself and reached out to grip Max’s shoulders. “Max. It wasn’t an accident. You believed that someone purposely tried to kill her, but that wasn’t it either.”

“What?”

“The reason we told everyone it was a car accident, and the reason you could never find a suspect despite everything you did, is because…” Denzel drew a long breath. “Because she killed herself. That accident was not an accident. It was her suicide.”

Max’s eyes widened. His body went cold.

“N-no…you’re lying…” he said, trying to deny it. But Denzel was certain. If Max was to be the heir to what his ancestors built, he had to know the truth, even if it broke him.

“My son, during that incident…inside that very car, you were there. Your mother, Luna, tried to die with you…” he revealed, and Max’s entire world once again collapsed.

“She tried to kill you, too.”

|END|

99 | Finding Comfort

♞

“GOOD AFTERNOON, EVERYONE. WE are still waiting outside the Sinclaire Corporation building to catch a glimpse of this historical meeting. The nine CEOs who arrived earlier have just started leaving the premises, as has Chairman Christopher himself. Unfortunately, we could not get any statements from them,” the reporter said into the camera.

Others from different news channels across the globe were reporting simultaneously. As the reporter had said, this was an important meeting. 

A meeting between business tycoons Denzel and Christopher shook the entire business world. And in the middle of it, somewhere within that meeting, Max was involved too: a seventeen-year-old from a family so powerful they once ruled over the country.

In fact, business families were so famous that the public would rather watch them than hear about what the government or the royal families were doing.

“We have yet to hear what happened in the meeting. Fortunately, we may still get a statement from both Chairman Denzel and his son, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, soon. Orlando, back to you.”

As everyone waited for an official statement, Chairman Denzel’s secretary—the chosen representative for the private meeting—finally stepped out of the building with two guards behind him. The press rushed the entrance, shoving cameras and microphones toward his face.

While the guards pushed back those getting too close, the secretary pulled out a document and cleared his throat. 

Everyone became quiet.

“Good afternoon. I stand before you as the representative and spokesperson of Sinclaire Corporation,” the secretary began, and cameras began clicking.

“Today, November 9, 2023, a private meeting was held with Chairman Christopher Mills of the Mills Tobacco Company, alongside nine CEOs under his belt. The purpose of this meeting was to discuss issues regarding Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire’s inheritance, which we had not publicly addressed before. 

As rumors grew, the public also grew restless. Therefore, after thorough discussion, Chairman Denzel Sinclaire has officially decided to terminate his previous announcement. Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire is—and will continue to be—the heir to the company.“

The crowd exploded.

This was the kind of news everyone was waiting for.

“Was this change because of Chairman Christopher?”

“Is it true Chairman Denzel has an illegitimate son? Was that why he took Maximilian’s inheritance away?!”

“Please tell us how the negotiation unfolded!”

Questions flew, but per Denzel’s instruction, the secretary answered none of them. He was only there to make the announcement.

“We hope you continue to support Sinclaire Corporation and continue to watch over the young heir of the family. Thank you,” the secretary ended, then turned and headed back inside.

The press shoved and yelled for more, but additional guards arrived to block their way.

While everyone was occupied out front, Max slipped out safely at the back. He had planned to announce his victory himself, but after what he heard from Denzel, he didn’t have the strength to face anyone.

“My son, during that incident…inside that very car, you were there. Your mother, Luna, tried to die with you…She tried to kill you, too,”  Denzel had said.

“T-that can’t be—”

“I think you’ve had a hunch, so let’s stop pretending. After all that investigating, the thought must have crossed your mind.”

Max wanted to deny it, to tell him he knew his mother and that he knew she would never do such a thing. But as he opened his mouth to debate, he couldn’t find the words to support his claim.

His father was right, and he hated it.  

“You’re right, we’re the reason why you’re like that now. You’re stubborn, you’re confident, and you would never back down from a challenge. Those traits have been embedded in you, and I can no longer change them ,” Denzel said to him.

“Your mother loved you, and she wanted you to be like her. But her love had become destructive, and I don’t want you to walk the same path. That’s why I wanted to take the company that destroyed her. I thought it would change your fate.

But these are mere excuses, and it doesn’t matter if you think my intentions were malicious or genuine. You have stood your ground. You chose your own fate. Now, you are to claim the title your mother has given you. But Maximilian, please remember this.. .

When you say you love both the Lemieuxs and the Sinclaires, don’t lie. Because that very lie is the reason why your mother married me. And we both know how that ended.“

Max drew a long breath and clenched the necklace at his throat, staring out the car window while Étienne drove in silence.

Luna’s death was the reason why Denzel tried to take the company away from him. Giving it to Marcus wasn’t because he favored him. In fact, looking at it, Denzel favored Max more with that decision. He knew Marcus would suffer greatly, but he still did it with Max in mind.

Did that make him a good father? No. It probably made him worse.

He wanted Max safe by putting his eldest on the spot. He thought that was the only way, but it wasn’t. In the end, Max publicly challenged him, proving once again that he is more like Luna than anything.

But his father’s reasoning or his mother’s supposed suicide wasn’t the only thing that shocked him. It was the fact that people had been going after their family long before he was born. 

Denzel said that Luna refused to let anyone else hurt Max, so she wanted her to die with him instead, a decision that showed her extreme love for her son. He also mentioned that very dangerous people have targeted two of the most powerful families in the world. The Lemieuxs were one of them. The second one was obviously Viktor’s family…

The Stepanovs.

Their entire clan died in 2015. Max was only nine years old when it happened. Three years after that, Luna died. 

In both instances, Max was there. But somehow, he survived them.

And then came the amnesia—gaps in his life that were consistently being suppressed by Denzel, Marcus, and his most loyal butler.

Why did Max attend the party that killed Viktor’s family? Why did Luna kill herself with the intention of having him join her? Why is his family supressing his memories?

What did he discover?

“Étienne…” Max said, drawing the butler’s eyes to the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Master?”

“The old man finally told me about my mother’s death. He finally told me how she died,” Max revealed. 

Étienne’s hands tightened on the wheel. He had suspected Denzel would tell Max, but not so soon.

“I apologize, Master Leigh. I hid the truth because—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Max cut in, fist clenched. He looked at the window and, instead of the passing city, saw his reflection. The pendant gleamed. He laughed under his breath.

“It’s funny how I should be celebrating today, but I feel depressed instead. I knew this was too easy. There’s no way I’d get what I want this quickly,” he said, and Étienne’s gaze softened.

“What are you going to do, then?” Étienne asked.

“The past is past. Whatever happened won’t bring my mother back. I’ll never be able to ask why she did it. But I do know all this is tied to why I was enrolled in J.S. High. That’s why I’m going to focus on that again,” Max said, voice firm.

With everything he’d gathered, one theory formed: whoever had been trying to kill him might be the same people who killed Viktor’s entire clan. If that was the connection between them, then Max had to conquer J.S. High to find his answers.

Viktor had made it clear he wouldn’t entertain Max while he was at the bottom. So Max had to climb—fast. The first term was ending soon, and he was still a dweller, not even a gaffer like Ari. He was far from entering the Elites.

“Shall we head straight home, Master?” Étienne asked while Max watched the people on the pavement.

“I’d give ten years of my life just to live normally. To wake without thinking of a sniper aimed at me,” Max thought, seeking comfort. He then closed his eyes…and a breathtaking view surfaced, one that had once brought him to the brink of tears.

“Étienne, I’d like you to bring me somewhere.”

…

Étienne parked at the roadside, then stepped out to open Max’s door. “Are you sure this is where you want to be? Would you like me to accompany you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’d like to be alone. You can wait here,” Max said.

Étienne hesitated, then nodded and closed the door.

Max walked into the forest, following the tracks he and Gavriil had taken before. After a few more steps, he reached the cliff. When he saw the view,  his body instantly eased.

Unlike last time, the sun was still high, giving him a perfect view of the horizon.

He drew a deep breath and approached the edge, took off his coat, spread it on the ground, and sat. He stared at the view for several seconds before closing his eyes, letting the wind touch his skin.

“Mother…” he whispered.

“Was killing me the only way you could protect me?” he asked, but he was only answered by the quiet.

He pulled his legs up and hugged them like a child. As he hid his face against his knees, tears poured out. For the past week, all he had wanted was to get the company back, but after learning about his mother, he felt he didn’t want anything to do with his family anymore.

What was the point if Luna had chosen to end it all herself?

Had he made a mistake?

Should he have just followed his father’s wishes? 

“So you decided to come here after all…” a voice said.

Max immediately lifted his head and found a handkerchief dangling in front of him. He looked up and instantly smiled.

“Gav…” Max said, taking the handkerchief.

Gavriil was still in his white uniform, which meant he had driven here as soon as classes ended. Strangely, he wasn’t wearing his peaked cap or his coat. That was unlike him.

“I saw your butler and had to make sure he didn’t see me. I was afraid he’d block my path if he did.”

“Don’t worry, Étienne is kind. He won’t harm you,” Max said. Gavriil didn’t comment; he was certain Étienne’s kindness extended only to Max.

“Ari and the rest were restless, but when they heard the news, they celebrated like they were watching a football game. Actually, everyone at J.S. High was watching closely,” Gavriil said, eyes on the view.

Max wiped his tears and chuckled. “They’re always so dramatic. I bet the Jokers made a big deal out of it, too.”

“Oh, they did. Master Joker and Brave had loud horns and trumpets. They ran down the hallway shouting, ‘Max is still the most powerful heir in the world! Beat that, suckers!’ Ian had to come and stop them,” Gavriil said, making Max laugh.

When it turned silent, awkwardness crept in again. Max studied Gavriil, who was still watching the view. “You knew about my car accident, didn’t you?” he said.

Gavriil flinched but stayed quiet, breathing deep.

“When you drove me here that night, you looked worried when I told you I don’t usually sit in the passenger seat. You looked that way because you knew I was sitting in that exact spot when my mother tried to kill us,” Max said, and Gavriil’s fist tightened.

“Leigh—”

“You don’t need to apologize or explain. I’m tired of hearing confessions. I’m not a priest. Don’t ask me for forgiveness,” Max said frankly. 

“Are you mad?” he then asked, and Max smiled faintly and shook his head.

Gavriil exhaled heavily and gestured to the space beside him. “May I?”

Max nodded, and Gavriil sat on the ground with him.

For a while, they said nothing, simply sharing the moment and the painting-like view before them. But as time went by, Gavriil finally broke the silence. 

“Now that you’ve taken back your company, I’m sure you’ll focus on J.S. High again. You don’t know this, but the students became more ambitious because of you. You’ve influenced them to be better. It may not feel like it, but the white uniforms miss seeing you do the unimaginable.”

“Do they really? Do they miss the unimaginable, or do they miss seeing me make a fool of myself?” Max asked.

Gavriil chuckled and hugged his knees tighter. Then, shyly hiding his face, he muttered, “I don’t know. But I do know I miss seeing…you.”

Something sparked in Max, but he forced his gaze back to the horizon, just in time to see the sun setting perfectly behind the tall buildings.

“Beautiful…” he breathed.

Gavriil looked and nodded.

They watched the orange light blend with the white clouds. As the sun slipped lower, Max edged closer and rested his head on Gavriil’s shoulder. Gavriil was surprised but didn’t move away. Instead, he moved closer, too, so Max would be more comfortable.

“I miss J.S. High too. You, my protectors, everyone I’ve grown close to,” Max said, making Gavriil grin.

“Can I be a little selfish? Did you have to miss everyone, too?” he teased, and Max snorted.

Without looking at each other, Gavriil leaned his head against Max’s and suddenly said, “You’ve done well, Leigh. I’m really…really…proud of you.”

When Max heard the Vice President say those words to him, another tear slipped free. This time, Max didn’t wipe it away. He let the tears fall and sank into the comfort of the King’s Horizon—and of Gavriil Alexeev.

For a moment, he felt safe.

For a moment…

He felt like his victory wasn’t in vain after all.

“Let’s go back to J.S. High and conquer everything, okay? After that, you, me, Viktor, and Cindy can come back here, just like old times,” Gavriil promised.

Max closed his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

|END|

100 | Monthy Reranking

♞

THE SCHOOL BELL RANG, and everyone started running back to their classrooms. Today was special, not because they didn’t have regular classes, but because it was finally their most-awaited reranking announcement.

A Monthly Reranking Announcement is an awaited event usually held in the Great Hall. During that time, the white uniforms will receive their updated ranks and standings. While students can check their position anytime at the Elites’ office using the system computer, most prefer to discover the results during the gathering.

The rankings will be flashed on all screens across campus, and the list will be projected from lowest to highest.

The Top 10 highest-ranking students will then be announced by the leader of the Kings, Viktor Stepanov. But since Viktor had been on leave for a while, their second-highest-positioned member, Tanis Hendrix, would announce the names one by one.

The student council, also known as the Elites, consists of the Top 5 highest-ranking students in J.S. High, but those ranked 6–10 are already trained for the Elites’ positions, as they have the highest chances of replacing the members. If they surpassed the rank of any existing Elite, they had to immediately take that place and assume the equivalent role.

As rankings are important in all Houses, students do everything they can to get more points, especially those ranked 6 to 10. There are even rumors that some students would buy points from others at the last minute. It was that important.

“If I end up getting demoted and becoming a dweller, I’m definitely getting in a lot of trouble, especially with Hans. He might even take my underling title away,” Ari said, worried, as he and Ervin walked down the hall.

“I doubt it. There are only two gaffers in our entire year, and that’s you and Vice President Gavriil. I don’t think you’ll fall short,” Ervin replied, trying to encourage him.

“I don’t know, man. Last time I checked, I was ranked 292. I’m literally eight students away from dropping to 300 and becoming a dweller. The ranking is very unstable. You can go lower or higher, even by ten points,” Ari said, still fretting despite ranking high.

As they reached their building at the Hall of Caelus, Ervin glanced at his underling brooch. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I’m ranking up. I was sent to two local competitions last month, and I also submitted my own dissertation to Cambridge about the importance of wellness activities in school. It’s not much, but it’s enough to pull me up.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re rank 337, right?”

“That’s right. But I have to rank even higher and become a gaffer like you. I have to do it for Master Joker and the rest of the Jokers. Everyone’s always saying that Jacks are just a bunch of bullies with nothing to prove, so I want to change that,” Ervin said, surprising Ari since he never thought Ervin would even consider something like that.

“Wow, look who decided to be a big boy now,” Ari teased, draping an arm around him. It felt like only yesterday when he was bullying Max, and now here they were.

“Anyway, how about our little friend, Felix?” Ervin asked, remembering Felix was the only serf in their class now, since Max had ranked up and become a dweller.

“During the armband assignment, Felix was ranked 408. There are literally eight freshmen who rank higher than him. How is that even possible?” Ari asked, dropping his arm.

“They must have brothers who graduated here. Some seniors transfer their points to younger brothers when they graduate, but it’s frowned upon, so not many do it. Why be proud of points you only got from your family? It ruins the essence of this school,” Ervin shared, suddenly recalling a rumor he’d heard last year.

“Oh yeah, about transferring points—someone told me there’s a rumor that seniors sell their merit points and the lower years auction them. I don’t know how you get an invite, but I heard bids range from a hundred thousand to millions. Isn’t that crazy?!”

Ervin was surprised, but not shocked. “Crazy for us, but not for them. This is a school of elites and heirs after all.”

As they neared their classroom, a swarm of students suddenly ran toward them. One student slammed into Ervin and kept going until Ervin grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think—”

The white uniform spun, ready to bark back, then froze when he recognized Ervin. He flinched even more when he realized Ari stood beside him.

“Is the word sorry a foreign language to you?” Ervin asked, tightening his grip.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t mean to hit you… Sir,” the student stammered. 

Ari burst into laughter at the “sir,” and Ervin finally released him.

“What are you guys even doing? The bell already rang. Get to class,” Ari said, acting the part of a class representative while eyeing the student’s armband. He was a second-year, too, but from Class C.

The student scratched the back of his head. “Heard Sinclaire was finally here. We just wanted to take a look.”

“And why the fuck would you want to see our friend? What do you think he is, a spectacle?” Ari snapped, making the student flinch again.

“N-no, of course not. But who doesn’t want to see him? He just challenged his family for his inheritance and won. No one’s done that before!” the boy exclaimed, eyes bright.

Ervin and Ari traded a look, right brows raised.

This might be the first time they spoke to a white uniform that wasn’t mocking Max.

“Whatever, just scram,” Ari said.

But the boy stayed. Ari was about to growl what now when the kid gave an awkward smile and asked Ervin, “You aren’t going to give me a jack-in-the-box, are you?”

Ari broke into loud laughter, instantly making Ervin glare at him. “I will if you don’t get out of my sight!”

The student bolted, leaving Ari still laughing while Ervin looked like he was ready to strangle him.

When Ari finally calmed down, he shot back, “What happened to your declaration earlier? I thought you wanted to prove Jacks aren’t just bullies.”

“How about you fix yourself first so others don’t doubt you’re a Rose and not a dollar-store version of a Disney princess,” Ervin shot back.

“Ouch,” Ari groaned, clutching his chest as if shot.

“Anyway, looks like Max is back. We should get to our room before Sir Barron arrives. I don’t want to be late. As for Max, I think he’ll do just fine. The entire student body seems ready to welcome him,” Ervin said as they headed for class, while everyone else ran toward the Keep, ready to welcome a boy they were slowly learning to respect.

…

Max was a diligent student, but today he was late.

The reason was that reporters had camped outside their house all night. He and Étienne had trouble leaving and were forced to call the cops, which delayed them further while they settled things.

“ Everyone’s talking about it. My mom’s talking about it, even my seven-year-old niece is talking about it. Someone leaked photos of the meeting last night. All the directors were there, and the informant said —“

Étienne switched off the radio and glanced over, checking if Max looked annoyed. Surprisingly, Max looked relaxed. Too relaxed.

“Did you receive any good news, Master Leigh?” Étienne asked, curious.

Max, reading an international newspaper article on his phone, didn’t look up. “Not really. The old man didn’t come home, so I couldn’t ask about returning to my office. I’m sure he’s busy comforting his devastated fiancée. I also haven’t talked to the department heads to get the projects back. I haven’t done anything productive yet, so no, no good news.”

“Then why do you look—”

“Relaxed? Like I don’t care? Don’t worry. The inheritance news was something I expected, and nothing changes for the better if I complain. I’m just glad everything’s back to normal,” Max explained further, and Étienne was quietly impressed. Usually, Max would be annoyed. Angry, even.

“I’ll talk to the head of marketing regarding the projects,” Étienne said. “As for your things, I’ll get them from the mansion and transfer them to your old office. I’ll ask the new employees to meet you. It’s important you deliberate them yourself.”

“Thank you,” Max replied, eyes still on the screen.

Silence settled. Étienne gripped the wheel, debating whether to continue. When a decision had won, he cleared his throat and opened up, “Master Leigh, regarding the task you gave me…about finding things from your past…I actually—”

“Put it on hold,” Max cut in.

“P-put it on hold? But I have documents that might help you remember. I thought you needed them,” Étienne said, confused.

Max set his phone aside. “I do want to know, and I intend to. But for now, I want to take things slow. I realize I remember bits of my past as I spend time at J.S. High. It’s like the reward I get after conquering a boss. I’ll remember on my own, so hold those documents. If I really need them, I’ll tell you.”

Étienne smiled and nodded. He could see the change in Max, little by little. “I understand, Master.”

They arrived at J.S. High’s famous campus. Students were rushing inside to get to class, but when they saw the white car with the Lemieux emblem, many stopped to stare.

“Looks like they’re excited to see you,” Étienne teased, and Max chuckled.

“When the news about my inheritance being revoked was announced, the same students called me names and said foul things. Now look at them—plastic following the waves. Useless.”

Étienne parked in front of the Keep and stepped out to open Max’s door. Max put on his cap, took a breath, grabbed his bag, and stepped out.

The crowd began to whisper. Even though outside matters shouldn’t have mattered on campus, some still looked annoyed that he managed to pull it off, while others looked genuinely impressed, as if Max had turned into their role model.

Of course, Max wouldn’t lie; he liked the attention. He probably always had. He was just good at hiding it. But this time, the attention was for the right reasons.

“I feel like I’m finally back,” he murmured, heading toward the Keep.

“Have a great day, Master Leigh.”

Students stopped and stared as he passed. It felt like a movie scene where the popular kid walked the hall with beaming confidence. The only difference was that Max wasn’t the popular kid. When he started, he’d been an ordinary white uniform trying to rank up like everyone else.

And he still was a white uniform—one who wore the Sinclaire, Jokers, and BND’s brooches with pride. They were proof of his success.

“All right, everyone, let’s get your attendance so we can get this over with…”

A familiar voice drifted out as Max reached Class II-A. He opened the door, expecting their homeroom teacher, but to his surprise, Ari was at the front, holding the attendance sheet.

As Max closed the door, all eyes swung toward him. Ervin smiled. Felix’s eyes sparkled. Ari nearly dropped the sheet.

“Max!” Ari yelled, running to him and hugging him so hard he almost lifted Max off the ground.

“A-Ari…that’s…overkill,” Max struggled to say, and Ari laughed, releasing him.

“What are you doing? Where’s Sir Barron?” Max asked.

“Well, thanks to you, I’m unfortunately still the class representative, so I’m taking attendance. Sir Barron’s having his final meeting with the Elites before the reranking,” Ari explained.

Max nodded. Gavriil had mentioned it last night. During reranking week, the Elites weren’t allowed to check their ranks ahead of time, so no one knew if they would remain members or be replaced.

“Alright, go back to your seat. I’ll mark you present,” Ari said.

As Max walked to his desk, a classmate grumbled, “That’s not fair. Max was ten minutes late. He should be marked absent.”

“We can’t have every fucking thing, Hazik. Now stop complaining, I’m the class rep,” Ari said, and Hazik closed his mouth. He was too scared of Ari to keep pushing.

Once Max sat, Ervin and Felix immediately got up from their seats. Ervin took Ari’s chair, and Felix sat on Max’s desk. 

“Congratulations on getting your inheritance back, Max. We’re really proud of you,” Felix said, smiling.

Max patted his head, smiling back. “You already messaged me yesterday, but thank you.”

“I’m not really into the business world, but I watched the news closely too. Can’t believe you pulled that off. You’re really something, Sinclaire,” Ervin added.

Ari, who was done with attendance, rejoined them. “So, ready for the reranking? I’ll bet a thousand bucks one of us gets demoted.”

“Why do you have to be so negative?” Felix complained, and Ari stuck out his tongue, making the two of them start bickering again.

While they fought, Ervin told Max, “By the way, I watched the live stream with the Monarchs the other night. Heard from Master Joker that you planned it. That red cigarette smoke really made headlines.”

Max pulled out the notebook where he had written everything he had learned about J.S. High. “Yeah, I’m glad it worked out. I’m also glad the Monarchs helped. When they were following me around, I thought they were just annoying, but they ended up useful.”

“Well, speaking of Monarchs, I bet Heaven is nervous right now,” Ari interjected, breaking off his argument with Felix.

“Oh yeah, CJ mentioned they’re performing before the announcement.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Ari said before realizing that Max probably didn’t know. “Of course, you don’t know that, either.”

“What don’t I know?” Max asked, frowning.

Ari opened his mouth, but Felix shoved in first. “The Monarchs’ bassist, Heaven J. Carter, is J.S. High’s rank 6. He’s the closest to becoming a member of the Elites.”

|END|

101 | Promoted / Demoted

♞

CHEERS AND LOUD MUSIC could be heard as Max and his friends walked to the Great Hall, not just to eat lunch, but to witness the Monthly Reranking Announcement. They would be there the entire afternoon for that event, so everyone was definitely excited.

Students couldn’t hold still, especially with ranks to be announced to everyone present, even to the brotherhoods. Black Uniforms didn’t have individual ranks, but they had to watch closely, especially since they could use the results to recruit new underlings or identify students to keep an eye on in the future.

“It’s like a festival,” Max commented as they arrived at the Great Hall.

Students were everywhere, and, surprisingly, the professors were also there. They usually ate in a private dining hall, but today they chose the Great Hall to check their students’ new ranks.

There were screens attached to almost every corner so everyone could see the rankings when they flashed later, and a stage in the middle where the Monarchs were performing.

“Still can’t believe Heaven’s Rank 6. I would’ve at least expected it to be their vocalist,” Max added as they made their way to their seats, pushing through the crowd who were hyping up the band.

When they reached their table, a smile appeared on Max’s face. It had been a while since he ate lunch like normal, so seeing members of both Jokers and BND together made him realize how special these moments were.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” Max said, glancing up at the other brotherhood balconies as well.

“Little Toy!” Master Joker shouted with joy as soon as he saw Max.

Max, Ari, Felix, and Ervin approached and took their usual seats as Hans said, “Look who finally arrived. It’s Crème de la Crème’s Rank 1. Congratulations on getting your inheritance back, Max.”

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/8f3fadc8206e0984144b487ab4d383f91113d5bc/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f596a724f35564f773872757062773d3d2d313134353833303433392e313862333739363536623038656363383933383834343931383333342e706e67)               

Max sat beside the baron and thanked BND’s leader for the greeting. Master Joker then draped an arm around him and said, “All of us watched the news on the rooftop. We were rooting for you just like when you competed in that pageant. I’m so proud I could kiss you right now.”

“I’m touched,” Max replied with a chuckle, but Marcus leaned in and pulled Krist away.

“Not a chance, jester,” he said before looking at his brother. “Why’d you come to school today? You should have stayed home to rest.”

“There’s no way I’m missing this. I already missed the announcement last time,” Max explained.

“Well, you didn’t really miss anything last time,” Brave said, and Khian, seated beside Marcus, nodded in agreement. “That’s right, nothing serious happened. But there are rumors that a lot of ranks have changed. It’s going to be a mess later.”

“Lucky for you guys then. Brotherhoods don’t have to go through this every month,” Ari complained, making Krist scoff.

“This announcement is child’s play. Brotherhoods have an Annual Brotherhood Reranking. That’s more terrifying than this,” Krist shared, and surprisingly, none of the white uniforms at their table argued.

The Annual Brotherhood Reranking is like a regular brotherhood battle, except all brotherhoods from all Houses fight at once. It’s the biggest brotherhood competition and is purposely held in the middle of the school year. It’s also the only battle where the losing brotherhood could be transferred to a different House. It’s that gruesome.

“That battle is in the second term, right? Around the end of February. I heard about it in Brotherhood History,” Max said.

“That’s right. We still have three months to train, but we can’t be complacent. That battle decides what happens to each House. As much as I don’t like Viktor, it would be a mess if Busters got demoted. Or worse, changed Houses,” Hans said, and Arjun turned around and swatted him on the head.

“Don’t jinx it!”

“Why’d you have to hit me?!”

While the two bickered, the Monarchs finished performing. The crowd settled after basically partying with them, and the white uniforms returned to their tables as waiters arrived with lunch.

“The rankings will be flashed on the screens shortly. We encourage everyone to listen attentively to see your updated rank and merit points,” a voice announced, and the white uniforms cheered.

“Damn, I’m nervous,” Ervin confessed.

Max, calmly sipping his chicken soup, told him, “Don’t worry, you’ll rank high. Don’t let Ari’s negativity get to you.”

The screens went black, and the students cheered even louder.

J.S. High’s logo appeared first, then the House logo. Finally, a student photo filled the screen with the number 599 beneath it.

“ Rank 599, first-year student of Class D, Justin Peters, with a total of 220 merit points…serf ,“ the voice announced, and moments later, a student was hoisted into the air as the people around him cheered.

“There goes first blood,” Felix said as he kept eating. “First years are terrified of ranking last, so they celebrate when anyone else gets called.”

“I can’t complain. I was Rank 556 when I first got here,” Max said, making Krist laugh at the memory. But when he saw Marcus glaring at him, he stopped.

“Well, you guys can relax for now. There are still a few names before yours,” Red reminded them, and everyone went back to eating while the lower ranks rolled out.

As time passed, some white uniforms cheered, some cursed, and a few even ran out of the Great Hall in shame. As ranks climbed, the atmosphere tightened, especially for upperclassmen. Unlike carefree first years, second through fourth years took ranking seriously. None of them cheered.

“Shit, we’re at Rank 415,” Felix said, dropping his spoon to stare at the screen.

“Oh yeah, you were Rank 408 before, right?” Max asked, and Felix nodded without looking away. He had no burning need to climb, but being the only serf in their class stung. If he wanted to stand beside someone like Max, he had to rise. He didn’t want to be the reason others would make fun of his friends.

Max and the rest paused to watch the screen with him. When Rank 408 flashed and it wasn’t Felix, their table practically jumped, drawing side-eyes from nearby students.

“Holy shit, you got promoted!” Ari said, buzzing with disbelief, but Felix still stared at the screen. If he wasn’t Rank 408, then what was he?

Rank 407 appeared.

Then Rank 406.

Rank 405.

Rank 404.

Rank 403.

Rank 402.

Rank 401.

“No…fucking…way…” Ari rose slowly, stunned. When Rank 400 finally flashed, their table erupted like a football crowd.

“ Rank 400, second-year student of Class A, Felix Campbell, with a total of 2,220 merit points…dweller ,“ the voice announced, and Felix instantly sprang up and jumped with Ari, who hugged him tight.

Max sipped his tea and smiled, delighted and proud of the outcome. Ervin let them celebrate for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. “Okay, lovebirds. Back to your seats.”

Ari’s face turned red as he pushed Felix away, causing the others, especially Krist, to laugh.

“I just got excited,” Ari defended. When no one bought it, he and Felix finally settled as the ranks continued rolling.

“One down, three to go,” Brave said, looking at Max, Ervin, and Ari.

Ari was the highest-ranked among the four, with Max next. Max should have been lower than Ervin and Felix, but the points he’d earned through Jokers and BND had rocketed him forward.

“What was your rank?” Krist asked, slicing his steak.

“Rank 337, Master Joker,” Ervin said, sitting straighter.

Krist nodded and watched the screen. Ervin was his underling, and Jokers were Max’s protectors. But other than looking after Max, they also act as fathers to their Jacks. Since reforming Jokers, Krist pushed his underlings to excel so no one could look down on them. He had grown strict about studies and ranks. Ervin, especially, was an underling they had been watching over carefully.

“You’ll definitely get promoted, Ervin,” Felix encouraged, feeling better now that he had advanced, even if not by much.

Ervin smiled and took a long drink of water. When the count hit Rank 345, their table looked up again.

Ervin’s foot tapped as the numbers climbed. Rank 337, his old rank, flashed on the screen. As expected, it wasn’t his picture that appeared, and everyone at their table once again celebrated, drawing the attention of even the brotherhoods at the balcony.

“Another one of ours got promoted! See? We’re not bad influences at all!” Rome called from a neighboring table, and laughter rippled.

They watched for Ervin’s new place. When the screen reached Rank 320 and still no Ervin Walker, Felix, Max, and Ari stared in shock.

“No way! You’re higher than Rank 320! You already passed Sir Barron’s requirement to stay in Class II-A!” Ari exclaimed, while Felix pouted around a mouthful of salad. “I’m so jealous.”

Ervin exhaled in relief. Max saw it and ruffled his hair the way he did Felix’s.

The Jack swatted Max’s hand away, feigning annoyance, but deep down, he only felt gratitude. Without Max, Jokers wouldn’t have changed their ways. He wouldn’t have been their friend either, and he would have never found the motivation to rank up.

“ Rank 318, second-year student of Class A, Ervin Walker, with a total of 2,700 merit points…dweller ,“ the voice announced, and Jokers stood to congratulate him.

“That’s our Jack!” Toni said, hugging him from the back.

Ervin blushed, but finally accepted the congratulations and laughed. When Krist met his eyes, the leader told him, “You did a good job. Congratulations.”

Ervin sat up straight and bowed his head as Jokers returned to their seats. Master Joker’s praise meant the world, even if he didn’t show it.

“Told you you’d do well,” Max said.

“Thank you…Max,” Ervin replied, and Max blinked, briefly puzzled by the sudden thanks. He was about to ask when Hans interjected, “Looks like it’s Max’s turn. When you won Mr. Brains and Brawn, we announced you at Rank 308 with 3,350 points.”

“Yeah, feels like yesterday we were still training you,” Red remembered. 

Max looked over, about to speak, when Red quickly added, “And please don’t thank me again for the bombing incident. It’s getting out of hand.”

Max smiled at the odd request, impressed by the fact that Red even knew what he was going to say. 

When everyone settled again, their table instantly got quiet. Ervin and Max were close in rank. They knew that Max was going to be next; if not, he would have surpassed Ari. But even Max himself knew that he wouldn’t have enough points to become a gaffer.

“You’re eight spots from becoming a gaffer like Ari. Honestly, I won’t be shocked if you surpass him,” Ervin said. 

Max finished his tea and looked up. He wasn’t nervous, but he wasn’t cocky either. He knew what he had and hadn’t done. Whatever the results were, he would be ready.

“All right, Rank 310…” Marcus said as they stared at the screen.

They were waiting for Rank 308, since that was Max’s most recent rank, but when Rank 310 flashed on the screen, Max’s picture suddenly appeared in full view. Gasps rippled, not just at their table but across the hall.

“N-no…wait…that can’t be,” Felix said.

No one looked away until the voice confirmed, “ Rank 310, second-year student of Class A, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, with a total of 3,850 merit points…dweller .“

Ari and the others turned to Max, ready to console him. But when they did, they were surprised to see that he just kept eating as if nothing had happened.

Seeing his indifference, Krist cleared his throat and tapped Max’s shoulder. “Uhm, Little Toy, your rank was just announced.”

Max finished chewing, dabbed his mouth, and said, “I know.”

“Aren’t you…disappointed? You got demoted,” Ari pointed out. 

Max took a breath and shook his head. “I expected it to drop. I’ve been busy with my inheritance, so I haven’t done much at J.S. High. The only points I got after the pageant were from Omega Society,” Max said, and everyone realized he was right.

“But don’t get complacent,” Khian warned. “The first term is about to end. If you’re aiming for the Elites, you have to climb. You’re not even a gaffer yet—what more the top 100, especially the top 10?”

“I won’t slack off,” Max declared before looking up toward the balconies where Cigarettes and Crazy 8 stood. “I know what to do next. I know where I’ll get my points.”

“Well, if you’re not worried, we definitely aren’t either. This is Max, after all. We should trust him. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being a dweller. As long as you’re not a serf anymore, right?” Ari suddenly said, spitting words of wisdom.

Silence sliced through the table.

“Why do I feel like you’re boasting because you’re still the only gaffer among us?” Max then teased, and Ari laughed awkwardly, shoving cream puffs into his mouth.

Hans, seated beside Ari, slung an arm around him. “If you’re so confident, let’s see your rank. If you’re demoted by even one, kiss your underling brooch goodbye,” he suddenly threatened.

Ari swallowed hard and stared at the screen. “I knew you were going to say that…”

“Ari checked last week. He was Rank 292. You might miss it,” Felix informed everyone, enjoying his friend’s torment.

They watched from Rank 300, and Ari still hasn’t been called. Lucky for him, he wasn’t going to become a dweller anymore, even if he got demoted now, because Rank 300 was the last rank to determine that change.

Eventually, the numbers climbed to Rank 293, which was the last rank that would decide whether Ari had fallen off a rank. When the picture flashed, and it wasn’t him, Hans sighed and took his arm back.

“Yes! I didn’t get demoted!” Ari cheered, but seeing the faces of those at their table, he complained. “Why do you all look disappointed? Be happy for me!”

Max laughed at the reaction. “Congratulations, Ari.”

“See? Only Max cares,” Ari said, but BND dropped the act, and Hansol reached over to mess his hair like Jokers had done to Ervin.

“As expected of our Rose,” Hansol said, and Ari grinned proudly.

“Can you act humble for once?” Felix muttered, and everyone laughed.

Ari’s rank finally appeared. As expected of their genius class rep, he was promoted.

“ Rank 289, second-year student of Class A, Aristotle Faulkner, with a total of 4,100 merit points…gaffe r,“ the voice announced, but his friends only clapped and teased instead of erupting like before.

“Oh, come on!” Ari groaned, and the table laughed and got back to enjoying their lunch. All of the white uniforms in their group had now been called. No point checking the rest of them.

Despite the unexpected outcomes, they enjoyed themselves. It was a rare moment to sit and enjoy each other’s company and have a moment where they were regular students.

Around them, the hall also relaxed as ranks climbed higher. Most had finished their meals, so waiters brought desserts and beverages. Students weren’t required to stay, but most did, for one reason and one reason only…

“ The lower ranks have now been announced. May we now welcome…the Top 10 highest-ranked students of J.S. High .“

|END|

102 | Rank 10

♞

“I WAS ONLY ABLE to submit one dissertation paper, but there are a couple of book reviews that I made thanks to my club, and those gave me points,” Ari shared while waiters handed out more snacks.

“The same thing goes for me. I won in two local competitions. That was four hundred points each. There’s also the paper that I submitted, which wasn’t much, but it helped,” Ervin added.

Felix, who was sipping on his tea, calculated his own points. “I seem to have earned 750 points. If I remember correctly, the 100 points came from Master Joker asking us to clean up Max’s scandal when he was found tied in a toilet.”

Krist almost spilled the tea he was drinking.

“Wow, that’s nostalgic,” Brave said, laughing it off. But when his eyes met with Marcus, he instantly flinched.

Krist wanted to say something,  but Max cut in and said, “I knew about it as soon as it happened. Let’s not dwell on it any longer.”

“You’re an angel, my sweet little toy!” Krist exclaimed, grabbing Max for a hug.

While Max was trying to push the baron away, Felix continued, “Anyway, the other 300 was also from our club activities, while the extra 50 came from class recitation.”

Ari said nothing and reached out for a cupcake until he realized that the computation fell short.

“Then where did you get the remaining three hundred?” he asked.

Felix suddenly laughed and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Well, during the battle between Cigarettes, BND, and Jokers, I actually voted for—”

“No, you did not,” Ari cut in, and the grin on Felix’s face made Ari gasp and cover his mouth from the sudden betrayal.

“I can’t believe you! How could you betray us like that?” Brave said, while Krist and the others laughed.

“To be fair, Felix would definitely bet on a winning team rather than choose friendship. It’s his charm,” Red teased, snatching the cupcake that Ari was supposed to get.

While everyone enjoyed their snacks, Max looked back at the screen and realized that it was already at Rank 30. As expected, most of them were fourth-year students. 

That’s when Max also realized how small the gaps had become. For instance, Rank 27 only had a thirty-point difference from Rank 28, showing that even the smallest MP can make a huge difference.

“So you can really get a lot of points from clubs,” Max said as he looked away from the screen.

“That’s what I told you before,” Marcus answered. “If you can utilize your club correctly, you’d definitely rank high.”

Max would agree, but looking at their club’s situation, he wasn’t very hopeful.

“We have the members, but we don’t have a senior to lead us. According to the rules, only the club adviser or senior members can propose activities and events. Without them, we’re stuck with small brotherhood cleanups,” Max explained, and Felix nodded and sighed.

Leo, who was at the other table, overheard what they were talking about and chimed in.

“He’s right. Back then, Alpha Society gave me a lot of points thanks to the events and activities our adviser provided, while the Omega Society was on the brink of disbandment. Getting a senior to take over, despite having more members, would be difficult,” he honestly told them.

“President Ian said he already sent letters to possible seniors. I don’t know who’d want to change clubs now, but I hope we can get one soon,” Max hoped.

While they continued their conversation, Rank 11 was finally announced, and everyone clapped their hands for him, making Max and the others stop talking.

“Looks like we’re finally at the main event,” Hans said as the screens changed into J.S. High’s logo again.

“ The lower ranks have now been announced .  Congratulations to everyone on their new rank. May you all continue to strive and rank higher until our next announcement, “ the voice echoed, and everyone clapped their hands and congratulated each other.

Even the professors who were there to watch looked proud.

“ May we now welcome the Top 10 highest-ranked students of J.S. High .“

The air in the hall shifted. The brotherhoods on the balcony stood to see better. The doors to the Great Hall then opened, and everyone cheered.

Max adjusted in his seat, waiting in anticipation. He had never seen the other high-ranked white uniforms before. To him, the Elites were always the most intriguing. But now, after seeing all the ranks, maybe he should have been paying attention to them as well.

“There they are, Max,” Krist muttered. “The white uniforms you’re supposed to defeat.”

Ten outstanding and intimidating white uniforms began marching inside the Great Hall, almost causing a riot at how well they were being received.

Rank 10, Kenzo Furukawa, entered the hall first. He was stone-faced and had a habit of adjusting his glasses every time someone made eye contact with him.

While the others cheered, Max slowly put his cup down in surprise. He had seen him before. In fact, the two of them had crossed paths with each other several times.

“Kenzo,” Max said, suppressing a grin. “That’s Beta Society’s club leader.”

“It gets better,” Felix told him.

The white uniform to follow Kenzo was the House of King’s Rank 9, and the ever-so-charming, Antonio Fernández de la Paz . He waved and even winked at the crowd before walking to the stage in the middle of the Great Hall to join Kenzo.

“That’s Antonio Fernández de la Paz,” Hans introduced to Max, knowing full well that Max wouldn’t be familiar with him. “He’s the top actor and the leader of J.S. High’s Theater Guild. His talent got them to perform at Teatro alla Scala in Milan, and he also won a couple of local and international awards.”

“Can’t believe someone like that enrolled here,” Max said in disbelief, but he was more shocked by the fact that his uncle had been able to invite him.

“We tried to recruit him as a Rose, but he refused and said being an underling was a betrayal of the arts,” Arjun then shared, which Max somehow understood.

Rank 8 followed, and like Antonio, Max wasn’t very familiar with him.

“That’s Vijay Mehra, “ Krist introduced next. “He’s the director of J.S. High’s Film Society, and his parents are prominent figures in Bollywood. He and Antonio are close friends and have even worked together.”

“Impressive,” was the only thing Max could say.

J.S. High is usually known as a school for heirs, but when you look at the others, you’d be surprised by the number of outstanding and talented students that it manages to house.

Seeing them like this made Max feel proud to be a part of them.

“And there he is,” Ari said as the next high-ranking white uniform walked in.

This time, Max rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t forget someone as arrogant as him. Having him at Rank 7 also made it worse.

“ Thomas Anderson Woods, Alpha Society’s senior club leader,“ Max said while BND clapped their hands for him. Leo even got up from his seat to cheer.

“He’s a Rose,” Ari revealed when he saw the confused look on Max’s face.

“What?” Max asked, looking back at his friend like he had said something outrageous.

“I know,” Ari said with a sigh. “Leo’s a friend of his, so he got recruited. You haven’t seen him with us because he’s busy like Richard Young. Top 10 duties, you know?”

Max looked back and watched as Thomas waved at the crowd, his presence commanding, which fit his Alpha and Rose title.

As soon as he got to the stage, Rank 6 walked in. And this time, Max smiled. Compared to Kenzo and Thomas, this student was someone Max was beginning to like.

“Definitely the one that shocked me the most,” he said, watching Heaven J. Carter—the Monarchs’ bassist and CJ’s loyal Ash—make his entrance with a charming smile. 

“I still can’t believe he’s Rank 6,” Max said as Heaven walked his way to the stage to join the others.

“I still can’t believe he’s one of the Ashes, though,” Ari blurted out, and in an instant, everyone at their table looked back at him, eyes and mouths agape.

“What?!”

When he realized what he had said, Ari smacked his mouth.

“Great job, Aristotle Faulkner,” Ervin teased, taking a sip of his tea.

Ari nervously laughed, but thankfully, those at the other table weren’t able to hear him.

“I thought you guys would know too, since you’re brotherhoods.”

“Are you serious? We don’t even know who Siren is,” Red pointed out.

As Ari continued to apologize for suddenly revealing Heaven’s real identity, the Elites, also known as the five highest-ranked white uniforms of the House of Kings, finally made their entrance. 

The Great Hall shook in cheers.

Justin and Dustin Griffiths, Rank 5 and 4, went inside the Great Hall together. Their attitudes contrasted so much that you could identify who was who despite them being identical.

After them was the crowd’s favorite. The Holy Three of J.S. High, as Sir Barron said before, were an unbreakable force. No one came close to how many points they had, and ever since they got the position, they never lost the spot.

Richard Young entered first. And like the time Max met him when he joined Mr. Brains & Brawn, Richard walked with grace. He was the perfect example of a Rose, unlike Ari over there, who was cheering so loudly for his co-underling that Hans had to cover his ears.

Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev made his entrance next. The cheers simmered down a little because the white uniforms were wary. They feared they’d get scolded by the vice president if they cheered too loudly.

“Look at that face…disgusting,” Ari sneered, nearly making Max laugh.

“I know we already asked you this before, but why do you hate him so much again?” Felix asked.

Ari, who kept his eyes on the vice, adjusted his peaked cap and answered, “I hate how mysterious he is. He acts all demure and calm and cool, but deep down, I know he’s none of that. Everyone thinks he’s innocent, but there’s no way. The quieter they become, the dirtier they usually are.”

“You did not just say dirtier,” Felix said, almost gagging.

“You’re projecting, Faulkner,” Ervin then blurted out.

“No,” Ari defended. “But I’m not gonna act like a saint. I know a fraud when I see one.”

“So you’re self-aware. Looks like you finally said something we can all agree on,” Hans interjected, causing the table to laugh.

Gavriil walked toward the stage, calm and composed. Max thought he would ignore him, but when he passed their table, Gavriil’s eyes suddenly met his.

Max was caught off guard for a second. Before he could even look away, Gavriil gave him a quick wink and continued walking as if nothing had happened.

Max nearly dropped the cup in his hand.

“ That guy is seriously… “ He touched his chest and steadied himself.

While the top rankers settled on the stage, the crowd’s attention shifted back to the entrance, where cheers rose for the strongest white uniform in J.S. High and across every house.

Rank 1.

President Ian Rothman.

“And here’s the man every single white uniform is jealous of,” Brave said, watching as the president graced the Great Hall. 

Ian commanded respect—not only from the white uniforms but from the brotherhoods as well. Unlike Viktor, his authority was rarely questioned. He had mastered the balance of fear, respect, and power. Many believed that without him as president, J.S. High would collapse into chaos.

No one questioned his position. Even Max.

“He’s the only white uniform that I’m scared of,” Krist said, and surprisingly enough, Hans and the others agreed.

Max stared and frowned. Watching the president only reminded him how difficult his goal was. Not only did he need to gain an insane amount of MP, but Max also needed to gain the same amount of respect and trust these students had in Ian.

Without them, ranking first would mean nothing.

“ Let us give a round of applause for our Top 10 for their outstanding performance, “ the voice announced, and the students cheered again.

Max looked at them one by one. He couldn’t deny how different they were from the lower ranks. 

“I always assumed they’d all be fourth-years,” he said.

The mix of years was obvious. Heaven J. Carter and the Griffiths twins were third-year students. The vice was a second-year. And the rest of them were all seniors.

“But six of them are in the same class,” Max then realized, impressed.

“I know, right? No wonder Sir Barron wants us to rank up so much. Only you, Ari, and Gavriil are considered really impressive students in our year, and there are literally just seventeen of us in class now,” Felix pointed out.

Keeping the excitement going, Buster’s temporary leader, Tanis Hendrix, walked down the balcony with PHD’s leader, Kim Hee-joon.

The two royals approached the stage, Joon holding two velvet boxes that contained the Top 10 to 6, and the Elites brooches. Only then did Max realize that Ian and the others’ collars were bare.

“For some reason, I feel more nervous about this compared to when I was waiting for my rank,” Felix said, and Ervin and Ari couldn’t help but agree.

As Tanis and Joon joined the white uniforms on stage, the crowd settled.

Sir Barron, who had just made his entrance, also joined them to hand Tanis a sealed envelope. As the Elites’ adviser, he and President Janus were the only people in the entire house who knew whether the ranks had changed.

He then took the cases from Joon and opened the first container, which displayed the bronze Roman numerals X (10) to VI (6) brooches.

“You may now begin,” he told Tanis before taking the cases from Joon’s hand.

Tanis nodded and stood in the middle, Joon following beside him. He glanced at the crowd and looked at the envelope, finally breaking the wax seal.

Everyone in the hall held their breath.

Even Max felt his heart race.

“I will now announce the new ranks, starting with Rank 10.”

No one spoke as Tanis pulled out the paper, his expression blank. “With a total of 7,210 points,”  he began. “Rank 10, fourth-year student of Class A, Antonio Fernández de la Paz, gaffer.”

The students gasped.

Antonio almost dropped to his knees.

It was the first announcement, and someone was already demoted. No one could believe it, not until Antonio’s face and rank flashed on the screens.

“His point difference with Rank 11 was about a thousand points. If you ask me, that’s still impressive even if he got demoted,” Max honestly said as he watched Antonio compose himself.

When the Theater Guild began chanting his name, Antonio forced a smile and approached Joon, letting him pin the Roman numeral X (10) on his collar with pride.

When the crowd calmed, Tanis looked back at the list.

“Rank 9, fourth-year student of Class A, Vijay Mehra, with a total of 7,750 points, gaffer,” he said soon after.

Unlike Antonio, Vijay couldn’t hide his disappointment. Even when his friends cheered him on, the new Rank 9 kept a sour expression while Joon pinned his new brooch.

“Looks like Kenzo Furukawa ranked up,” Hans commented.

And as he expected, Tanis announced next, “With a total of 8,000 points, Rank 8, fourth-year student of Class A, Kenzo Furukawa.”

Kenzo smirked and adjusted his glasses while the members of Beta Society got up from their seats, jumping with joy.

“Now for Rank 7,” Tanis said after Kenzo received his new brooch. He looked at the list again and exhaled.  “Rank 7, fourth-year student of Class A, Thomas Anderson Woods, with a total of 8,200 points, gaffer.

The Dukes, Roses, and the members of Alpha Society clapped their hands. Thomas’s rank didn’t change, but at least he wasn’t demoted.

“The gaps between their points aren’t really big,” Max observed, looking at the screen that showed the points of the white uniforms whose ranks were already announced.

“Rank 6,” Tanis continued.

Everyone once again held their breath.

This was the final rank that would determine if the Elites changed.

“Here it is. This is the last one. If Heaven is still announced as Rank 6, then it means that the members of the Elites are still the same,” Ervin explained.

Max looked at the five members of the Elites. Unlike earlier, most now seemed nervous. Ian and Gavriil were the only ones who looked composed, but he could tell that they were still anxious about the overall results.

Tanis read the list, reading it longer than the names he previously announced.

Everyone gripped their seats, ready to explode.

After Tanis triple-checked, he glanced at the white uniforms on stage before looking back at the crowd. For a split second, Max saw a grin slip through his stone face.

“Rank 6, third-year student of Class A…” Tanis paused again before finally revealing, “Justin Griffiths, with a total of 8,500 points, gaffer.”

The atmosphere in the hall instantly shifted.

No one moved.

Max, who had been quietly watching the ceremony, covered his mouth in shock.

“No fucking way,” Ervin muttered.

Justin stood with his eyes wide. He was always the jolly one among the twins, but this time, he looked devastated. Even his usually cold brother, Dustin, was in shock at the unexpected results.

Everyone on stage had the same look. Richard couldn’t even face him anymore. Despite everything, the five of them had spent an entire school year together. Their ranks had never changed…not until now.

“N-No…this can’t be,” Justin said, his hands trembling.

Sir Barron—who knew about the results beforehand—looked at him and sighed. “Justin, bow and accept your new rank with dignity. The Elites do not owe you a seat. If you want it back, earn it.”

Justin looked like he just wanted to run away, but his brother patted him on the back and whispered something to him. Perhaps it was words of encouragement because Justin finally approached Joon to receive his new brooch.

The crowd was still left speechless. This was the first time in a long time that a member of the Elites had changed.

“ Let us congratulate the new Ranks 6 to 10 ,“ the voice announced as Justin switched places with Heaven.

“Poor Justin,” Max said as he stared at Justin, who had actual tears in his eyes. He then stared at Heaven, who was trying to suppress a grin but was failing.

“Heaven’s a fucking Elite now. Can you believe it?” Ari said in disbelief.

“Can’t imagine how CJ feels right now,” Krist sarcastically said as he glanced at Cigarettes on the balcony, who were hiding the fact that they were overjoyed since they now had an underling who was an Elite.

“ Let us now announce the new lineup for the Elites,“ the voice announced, and the students who ranked six to ten stepped off the stage to give way to the remaining white uniforms. 

Sir Barron opened the other case, revealing the Elites’ silver ionic column brooch and their corresponding numerical brooches.

“I will now be announcing the Elites’ school representative,” Tanis said as Joon adjusted his gloves.

“Rank 5, the new Elites school representative, third-year student of Class A…” Tanis looked at the list again just to make sure. “Dustin Griffiths, with a total of 8,600 points,” he finally announced, and the hall was once again at a loss for words.

“Holy shit. Heaven ranked up that much?!” Brave practically shouted.

Joon, who was still expressionless, approached Dustin. Dustin’s expression didn’t waver either as he took a step forward so that Joon could pin his new brooch on him. 

As soon as the brooches found their spot in his collar, Dustin released a breath, glanced at his brother, and bowed.

“Okay, if the next person to be announced is Richard Young, I’m going to lose it,” Ari honestly said, but this time, everyone at their table doubted it, especially the Dukes.

They were confident that their Rose would keep his position.

“Rank 4, the new Elites treasurer, third-year student of Class A, Heaven J. Carter, with a total of 9,300 points.”

Ari and his friends sighed while the other white uniforms got up from their seats to cheer. The reaction was better than others might expect since Heaven was a member of the Monarchs. They cared more about the fact that their new council treasurer is a cool bassist than anything.

“Would you look at that,” Max said, emotions all over the place. He thought he’d be delighted since he was CJ’s underling, but something was holding him back from celebrating.

While Heaven was receiving his new brooch, Max looked up at the balcony. He spotted CJ, expecting him to be cheering with his members, but instead, his expression looked almost menacing.

Max was no longer smiling. Something felt off. And with how CJ is reacting to it, it seemed like he wasn’t far off.

How did Heaven rank so high?

Did CJ have anything to do with it?

“Man, I’m glad Richard didn’t get demoted, but how the hell did Carter get so many points?!” Ari exclaimed, still not getting over the results, even when Tanis started announcing the next three ranks.

“Rank 3, and still your Elites secretary, fourth-year student of Class A, Richard Young, with a total of 12,050 points,” Tanis announced, and the students clapped their hands, already expecting the results.

“His point difference with Heaven is almost three thousand. That’s insane,” Max said as he watched Joon put Richard’s brooch back on him.

The announcement that followed was very much something that the entire student body expected.

“Rank 2, and still your Elites vice president, second-year student of Class A, Gavriil Ivanovich Alexeev, with a total of 13,250 points.”

And of course…

“Rank 1, and still your Elites president, fourth-year student of Class A, Ian Rothman, with a total of 15,500 points.”

The crowd clapped their hands for Ian as he stepped forward to bow. After putting the brooch on him, Tanis approached them one by one and shook their hands to congratulate them. 

Surprisingly, even though they were the Elites, and even though Tanis was just a temporary leader, his presence still overwhelmed them. The only one who matched his aura was President Ian.

Soon after the announcement, the two royals went back to the balcony, and Sir Barron—as the Elites’ adviser—led the five through their pledge renewal. 

“ The Elites’ president will now end the ceremony with his closing remarks. “

Ian nodded and adjusted the brooches on his collar before making his way to the middle of the stage. Everyone cheered, and Ian stayed still for a little longer until he finally began his speech.

“Students of J.S. High,” he addressed, commanding everyone’s attention, even the brotherhoods. “Every month, we embrace a new rank. Every day, we gain and lose points. We strive for excellence. We chase those in front of us to reach first place. It is in our nature to stand above the rest.”

Ian paused and looked at the white uniforms who stared at him with awe.

He smiled. “But, as difficult as it may seem, your ranks are not the only thing that should define you. Whatever your title is, whether you are a gaffer, a dweller, or a serf, one thing does not change— all of us are students of the great House of Kings.”

“That’s right,” someone from the audience said, causing a ripple of grins and chuckles.

“We are the Elites. We are your leaders, your voices, your passion, and your ambition. But we’re not the ones you’re chasing. It’s this,” Ian pointed at the Elites’ brooch.

“Anyone can be an Elite,” he said, voice piercing right into their chests. “You can be rank 500 now, and then you won’t even realize that you’d already be standing on this very stage, receiving the president’s brooch. That is J.S. High. It does not choose. It does not hold anyone back. Those who strive for excellence will be excellent. The question now is…will you?”

Max, who was watching Ian like everyone else, didn’t even notice that he was already clenching the brooches on his collar, his chest beating fast.

“Climb higher, white uniforms. This has been J.S High’s monthly reranking. And remember, whatever happens in the castle…” 

“…stays in the castle!” the students echoed, voices loud and proud.

Ian bowed. And as the Elites waved to the crowd, Max couldn’t help but stare in awe. His desire to be part of them grew even more, and the flames that kept him motivated burned even brighter.

“ Anyone can be an Elite. “ Ian’s words echoed in his head like a mantra.

He was definitely going to rank up.

He was going to claim that title no matter what.

And he was definitely going to enter the Elites and become the president so he could finally face Viktor as an equal.

|END|

103 | Consequences

♞

THE WEEKEND WENT by fast. After the ranking announcement, Max visited the company, where he was given a grand welcome. The moment was both heartwarming and amusing.

His father also started disappearing again. When Marcus was the heir, Denzel had to stay behind since his eldest son knew nothing about the business. But when Max reclaimed the title, Denzel flew out of the country faster than he could unpack his things.

Despite it all, Max was glad that everything went back to normal.

“What a strange morning,” Max said, staring out the car window.

Étienne glanced at his master through the rearview mirror. “How so?”

“I’m not worried about…anything.”

Étienne furrowed his brows, unsure if that was a good thing or not. But after everything Max had been through, he’d consider that as a temporary win.

“You have a meeting with the chairman of Mansoori Holdings next Saturday,” Étienne blurted out just when Max was enjoying his time of peace.

“You’re such a nincompoop,” he complained, looking back at his butler. “Did you free my schedule for that?”

“Yes,” Étienne answered. “Your meeting with the chairman is at 7:00 p.m. Before that, you’re tasked to evaluate the new interns. I sent you their files last night. What time would you like to meet them?”

Max tucked his necklace inside his shirt and adjusted his peaked cap. “Schedule the intern evaluation before lunch, so I have time to review Chairman Al Mansoori’s proposal.”

“Understood, Master Leigh.”

Étienne noted down the schedule and made a turn. When they arrived at J.S. High, Max looked out the window and found an empty Keep. Unlike last week, no one was there to welcome him anymore, which wasn’t something that he entirely missed.

But he did enjoy the attention, even for a bit.

“Enjoy your day, Master Leigh,” Étienne said as he opened the door for Max.

Max nodded and looked at the building in front of him. With a heavy sigh, he gripped the strap of his bag and made his way inside.

He walked down the Hall of Caelus and arrived at Class II-A. He anticipated yelling, laughter, chaos—any form of noise that usually seeps out of their classroom. But when he stopped in front of the door, the inside was unusually quiet.

“What’s going on?” Max muttered, grabbing the knob to push the door open.

He expected an empty room, but to his surprise, everyone was there, sitting quietly in their seats. He thought Sir Barron got there early, but standing in front of the class was not their adviser. It was two members of the Elites.

Vice President Gavriil Alexeev.

And President Ian Rothman.

“President Ian,” Max quickly greeted with a bow. “Vice President Gavriil.”

The two council members turned to Max and said nothing, causing Max to feel nervous at the serious atmosphere surrounding the room.

Before he could ask why they were there, Gavriil took a step and gestured at Max to stand in front of them.

Max turned to his friends, obviously looking just as puzzled as he was. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to get a straight answer, he drew a breath and walked to the middle of the class, turning to directly face the two Elites.

The class went quiet.

Max tried to read their expression, but when he saw the serious look on Gavriil’s face, he immediately lowered his gaze.

The two had grown closer. Maybe closer than they both anticipated. But when it came to matters in J.S. High, their relationship held no merit. Gavriil was the Elites’ Vice President. Their ranks were far too different for Max to start acting buddy-buddy with him.

“Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire,” Gavriil’s voice broke the silence.

Max straightened as the vice president pulled out a sheet of paper. He glanced at Max briefly before reading aloud.

“Under Article 18, Sections B and C, of the White Uniform Handbook, all students are required to honor the oath of secrecy. The use of school titles for outside negotiations is strictly prohibited.”

Max frowned.

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t know what—”

“Sinclaire,” Gavriil interrupted.

The vice president lowered the paper and looked directly at him.

“It has been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that you negotiated with the leader of the Counts, fourth-year student Charles Justin Mills, regarding matters that directly benefited your title outside the House of Kings.”

Max’s eyes widened in shock.

The revelation caused a ripple of gasps in the room.

“I, the Vice President of the Elites, hereby declare you suspended.”

“This is bullshit!” Ari instantly protested.

Heads turned. Max looked at his dear friend as he rose from his seat, glaring at the Elites. “A ton of students break that oath, and you know it. Targeting Max is clearly malicious in itself,” he seethed.

“Ari, stop,” Max tried to say, but his friend wasn’t listening.

“Whether malicious in intent or not, the evidence submitted to us was a clear violation of the rule,” Gavriil answered, unfazed.

Ari clenched his fist, ready to burst. But then President Ian looked at him and asked, “Is this how a white uniform should address the Vice President? You show little to no respect, Mr. Faulkner. As the Dukes’ underling, this is not what I expected.”

Ari gritted his teeth after getting called out. He wanted to defend himself, but the look on Ian’s face made it impossible to. 

“I…I apolo—”

“I apologize, President Ian and Vice President Gavriil,” Max cut in, immediately bowing to the two officers. The act surprised the whole class, especially his friends. Max rarely bowed to anyone like that.

“I apologize on my friend’s behalf. He does not have any ill intentions for—”

“Does he not know how to speak for himself?” Ian asked, and Max felt every hair on his skin stand. He had never felt like that before. It seemed like Ian’s speech at the reranking had drastically changed Max’s impression of him.

“I’m sorry!” Ari pleaded, bowing deeper. “I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. As the class representative, I’m ashamed. Please, I accept the consequences of my foolishness.”

Everyone in the room held their breath.

Max wanted to defend him again when Gavriil interfered, “Stop, there’s no need for that.” He then looked at Ian, expression softening. “It’s fine.”

Ian sighed and nodded.

Ari straightened and turned to the vice, thankful.

Gavriil looked like he wanted to end the formality, but he kept his composure. “Sinclaire, this is not a major offence, but it still warrants a suspension. Three days. This means you are not to attend classes, receive points, or join any club activities. Instead, you have mandatory community service.”

“I understand.”

“Your brooches and your armband will also be stripped away from you during your suspension. You carry no title during this time,” Gavriil continued.

“I understand.”

“And one last thing,” Gavriil looked at the class, hoping that this incident would become a warning for everyone. “Suspension means that one thousand merit points will be taken away from you. This is effective immediately.”

Everyone in the room reacted. Max kept his expression neutral, but his hands were already red from how hard he had been gripping his bag.

He looked straight into Ian’s eyes, ashamed. This was the person he wanted to become, yet he had constantly been making a fool of himself in front of him.

After Mr. Brains & Brawn, he had only faced setback after setback. This wasn’t the kind of white uniform that should be arrogantly challenging the number one position.

“I…I understand,” Max finally answered.

“With all of them as witnesses, your suspension is now absolute. Now, please, follow us,” Gavriil said.

President Ian walked out of the room first. Gavriil was about to follow, but Max said, “Before we leave, can you give me a minute? I need to talk to Ari.”

Gavriil glanced at Ari and released a breath. He had no reason to accept the request, but he nodded anyway. “Two minutes,” he said, heading out.

Max immediately ran to Ari to check on him. “Aristotle Faulkner, you should not have spoken to the vice president like that,” he scolded.

“But—”

“I’m thankful that you stood up for me, but if you ended up in trouble because of that, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself,” he told Ari, grabbing his shoulders. “The Elites were only doing their job. We have to understand where they’re coming from if we want to be a part of them.”

“I know that, but—” Ari paused, realizing what Max just said. “What do you mean by we ?”

Max turned and looked at Felix and Ervin, who had now appeared behind him. He then looked back at Ari and said, “I told you, didn’t I? That I’m planning to join the Elites. And when I do, I need someone beside me who I can truly trust, and that’s you.”

Ari took a step back. He did remember that Max had mentioned it to him, but he thought he wasn’t being serious.

“Anyway, this suspension was bound to happen. I made CJ my homeboy so I could ask him a favor involving my inheritance. I was wrong for that, so I’m ready to face the consequences.”

“You may be right,” Felix agreed. “But no one else but us knows about your deal with CJ, so how on earth did the Elites find out?”

“Sinclaire, time’s up,” Gavriil called out before Max could answer.

“Shit, I have to go,” Max said, looking at his friends. 

Ari and Felix gave him an encouraging smile while Ervin reached out to pat his shoulder. “Well, since you’re already in this situation…give them hell.”

Max smiled back and hurried his way out of the room where the Elites were patiently waiting for him.

“I apologize for the wait,” Max said.

“It’s fine. You didn’t have to worry,” Ian replied, his tone softer than before. “We should get going. There are still a few things we need to do.”

Max nodded, and the three of them began walking down the hall in silence. 

While they made their way to the unknown location, Max looked at the two men in front of him. Despite everything that he had achieved so far, the gap between him and them was suffocatingly obvious.

He was  Crème de la Crème’s rank one, but here, he was just a dweller. And a dweller had no power against a president and a vice. 

“Are we heading to the Elites’ office?” Max finally asked.

“We are, but we have to make a stopover first,” Ian answered.

Max furrowed. And when Ian saw his reaction, he added, “There’s a reason why I came with Gavriil, you know?”

Max didn’t know what he meant until he realized that they were now walking in the Hall of Janus, where the brotherhoods were based. Entering this hall as a White Uniform wasn’t allowed, so being here meant something big was about to happen.

The facilities were almost identical to the other buildings, but the vibe and atmosphere were different. It felt intense. Cold. Max almost thought that he wasn’t in J.S. High anymore.

“Here we are.” 

The three of them stopped in front of a large double door.

Max looked up and saw the plaque. Class IV-Kings.

His eyes and mouth were agape. “F-Four Kings…we’re at IV-Kings? Why are we—”

Class IV-KINGS. 

It’s part of the rules that brotherhoods cannot be in the same class as white uniforms. Which is why, as explained before, all of the black uniforms share the same class. Since there are no brotherhood members in the lower years, they only have two classes: Class IV-Kings and Class III-Princes.

Since all the leaders are also found in one room, the class had become notorious even at the other Houses. 

“Looks like Ms. Armstrong hasn’t arrived yet. You can proceed now, President Ian,” Gavriil said, and Ian knocked on the door first before making his way inside.

Ian’s authority became prominent the moment he walked into the room. He stepped in, unfazed. The noise faded, and without even uttering a word, everyone in the room rose from their seats to greet him.

Even the princes and the kings were touching their chests as a sign of respect.

“Good morning,” Ian greeted, walking to the front of the room. “I won’t take much of your time. Please, take a seat.”

Everyone complied, behaving better than white uniforms would. 

While Ian was preparing to read from the letter he was holding, Gavriil and Max walked in. The room instantly shifted the moment they saw him. Max’s protectors were especially stunned.

“ What the fuck are you doing here? “ Master Joker mouthed, but Max couldn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be scolded.

“Charles Justin Mills, step forward,” Ian finally said, and the mention of his name alone almost put the brotherhoods in a frenzy. They didn’t have to ask. They knew what this was going to be about.

Even Max, who thought he’d suffer the consequences alone, couldn’t say anything.

“It’s early in the morning, and you already want me? I’m flattered,” CJ managed to joke, rising from his seat so he could stand in front of the Elites’ president.

Ian didn’t react as he looked at the familiar letter in his hand.

“Mills,” he addressed. “Under Article 21, Sections B and C, of the Brotherhood Handbook, all students are required to honor the oath of secrecy. The use of school titles for outside negotiations is strictly prohibited.”

Max expected CJ to grin and brush off the situation, but to his surprise, CJ had turned serious.

The members of Jokers and BND, on the other hand, had helped Max carry out his plan, which tied them to everything that was happening. It would have made more sense if Ian had called them, too, but only CJ was summoned. 

Something was definitely off. 

The fact that the Elites knew made it even sketchier.

“It has been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that you negotiated with second-year dweller, Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire, regarding issues that benefited your outside title. With this, I, the president of the Elites, declare you suspended.”

CJ looked at Ian and touched his chest. “I accept all consequences.”

“I hope you understand what this suspension means to you,” Ian continued.

Max expected similar consequences, but what was said next left him in disbelief.

“Mills, this is not a major offence, but it still warrants a suspension. You are given three days to do community service. During those days, all your titles will be stripped away from you. You carry no title, which means that in three days…you will be a white uniform.

With all of them as witnesses, your suspension is now absolute. Best of luck.“

|END|

104 | Suspended

♞

MAX ONLY WANTED THINGS to go back to normal, but he still found himself walking down the hall with CJ while the Elites’ President and Vice President escorted them to the office as if they were wanted criminals.

Suspension was a student’s nightmare. Minor offences meant three to five days of community service. Major offences meant deliberation and expulsion. None of those options was any better.

The community service itself wasn’t a big deal for Max. He could do it with no problem. It’s the thousand points that really got him.

Other than that, he also felt bad for CJ. He didn’t pity him, of course. The count didn’t deserve pity. But Max was the reason why CJ got suspended, and he felt responsible. 

Since the Elites had no merit points to take away from him, the leader was forced to wear a white uniform. The punishment sounded light, but for brotherhoods, it was a big insult.

To put it in perspective, it was like turning a gaffer into a serf. It was more of a psychological torture than anything.

A lot of white uniforms hated CJ, too. Max could only imagine what they’d do to the leader. They definitely wouldn’t waste a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“We’re here.”

The four of them arrived at the student council office. President Ian walked in first, and the rest of them followed. Max was expecting to sign papers, but he was instead welcomed by the rest of the members of the Elites.

Secretary Richard Young stood in the center, holding a glass case, while the new treasurer, Heaven J. Carter, held a white box. School Representative Dustin Griffiths was also there, but he only stood on the side as an audience.

Max stared as Ian and Gavriil joined the others. The title definitely had weight to it because the atmosphere around them was different. Even Heaven felt like he already belonged.

“Let’s begin.”

Ian stood in front of Max and CJ, his expression stern. “Today marks your first day of suspension, and it will end on Wednesday, November 15, 2023. By then, your titles will be stripped away from you. Do you oppose?”

“No,” Max and CJ answered in unison.

Richard stepped forward. “We will now retrieve your brooches and armband,” he said.

Ian went to CJ, then Gavriil stood in front of Max. While the president was stripping the count of his title, Gavriil carefully removed Max’s Jokers, BND, and Sinclaire brooches. The act made Max grit his teeth.

After placing them inside the case, Gavriil stole a glance at Max and sighed. Finally, he removed his armband.

“Heaven,” Ian called after he was done with CJ.

Heaven kept his expression neutral as he faced his leader. “Here is your temporary uniform,” he said, handing the white uniform to him.

CJ almost laughed at the situation, but he said nothing and took the uniform from his underling.

“As president of the Elites, I officially declare the start of your suspension. Remember, any attempt to seek revenge or retaliate for what happens during this period will result in harsher punishment. Now head to the Great Hall’s kitchen. Your first assignment awaits you there,” Ian instructed.

Max and CJ looked at each other and nodded.

After the formalities, Ian and Richard left first to attend a meeting with the other House officers. Dustin also headed back to his classroom to take a Math test, leaving Heaven and Gavriil inside the office.

“I gotta go change,” CJ said, obviously annoyed. “Go and head to the kitchen first. I’ll catch up.”

Max nodded and turned to the exit when Gavriil suddenly grabbed his arm to stop him. “Let’s talk,” he told him, expression serious.

Max looked at the vice president and sighed. He didn’t know if this was the right time to talk, but he agreed anyway. 

The two stepped out to get some privacy, and CJ grinned, watching them go. As soon as the door closed, the suspended count turned to the only Elite left in the room with him.

Heaven said nothing as CJ looked straight at him, unfazed.

He took a step, and Heaven flinched. The reaction caused CJ to chuckle.

“Hello,” CJ said, grinning wider. “Traitor.”

“Boss, I don’t know—”

“Cut the bullshit,” CJ strode his way to Heaven, dropping his uniform and grabbing him by the collar to pin him against the wall. The impact almost knocked the air out of him.

“How much was your loyalty worth? How many points did they give you after you fucking snitched on us?” CJ sneered.

Heaven looked terrified for a second, but then a switch flipped. He dropped the act and smirked at his leader. “Weren’t you the one who taught us always to be truthful?”

CJ pushed Heaven against the wall even harder, knocking off his peaked cap. “You’ve got jokes. Let’s see if you can still laugh after I’m done with you.” 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Heaven quickly warned. “You’re already suspended. Attacking me now won’t help you.”

CJ gritted his teeth. He wanted to throw a punch, but instead, he let him go.

“You’re a pain, but this isn’t about me, isn’t it? It’s about Sinclaire.”

Heaven didn’t answer. He grabbed his peaked cap and composed himself. Then he walked back to his new table, his nameplate perfectly centered. “I just did my job. Nothing personal, Mr. Mills.”

“So it’s Mr. Mills now, huh? Aren’t you afraid that I’d take your underling title away after all this is over?” CJ threatened, but Heaven didn’t seem to mind. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m already an Elite. That’s a far better title than being an underling of the Counts,” he said, taking a seat.

CJ laughed and picked up his white uniform from the floor. “You chose the wrong enemy, Heaven. It’s a shame, too. I treated you as a reliable underling,” he said, dusting off the uniform. “But I take betrayal seriously. Whoever you’re working for won’t amount to the suffering that’s coming your way.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Mills. Who cares if we’re enemies? I’m an Elite now. You can’t touch me,” Heaven said, sounding confident.

CJ laughed and walked to the exit. Before grabbing the knob, he looked over his shoulder.

“I’m not talking about me, fucker.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Figure it out yourself, Heaven J. Carter. But I’m warning you. Before you can even make your next move, it’ll already be too late. Your real enemy is already right in front of you, pressing a knife against your neck. And when that dread finally gets to you, you’ll realize the points you traded for that seat won’t be enough to save you.”

…

Max said nothing as Gavriil led him to an empty laboratory to talk.

Once inside, Gavriil locked the door. Max was about to say something when Gavriil interrupted, “The decision to suspend you was agreed upon by the council. I had no power to overrule it.”

Max was surprised by the sudden explanation. But when he saw the look on the vice president’s face, Max couldn’t help but laugh.

He looked dead serious.

“What’s so funny?” Gavriil asked.

“Gav, I’m sorry, but I can’t take you seriously,” Max said, still laughing. “You look like you committed a crime.”

“You’re impossible.” Gavriil removed his peaked cap, brushing his hair back to hide the fact that he was embarrassed. “I didn’t want you to think that I threw you under the bus. This was supposed to be an apology. After all, I’m the one who told you to target CJ. I’m as guilty as you are.”

“So what? You want to get suspended with me?” Max teased.

“I would,” Gavriil answered in a beat. “But an Elite getting suspended would remove him from the council. If I’m not in the Elites, I won’t be able to…” His words trailed off.  

Max drew a breath. “Please, let’s not go there. I was joking,” he said, approaching Gavriil and snatching his cap. “Jokers and BND are accomplices, too, but only CJ got suspended. Don’t think about it too much.”

Gavriil stared at him. He tried getting his cap back, but Max playfully lifted his hand higher, keeping it out of reach.

A smile tugged at Gavriil’s lips.

Before Max could react, Gavriil grabbed his wrist and backed him against the edge of the table.

“Give it back.”

Max laughed and gently placed the cap on Gavriil’s head. “Killjoy.”

Gavriil pinched Max’s nose to retaliate. Max tried to push him, but the Elite wouldn’t budge. After messing around, Gavriil got serious. He looked at Max’s bare collar and told him, “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t take the thousand points from your student card. Your rank is still the same.”

“W-What?” Max looked at his childhood friend in disbelief. “No, Gav. You can’t do that. You’re going to get in trouble.”

“Maybe, but I’m still the vice president. The council has no means to keep track of every single point that the students get, so we can bypass it. You just have to acquire more points so they won’t notice,” Gavriil explained.

Max shook his head. He wasn’t going to put someone else in a tough spot just for his sake.

“Take it back. I can just get more points,” Max said, trying to convince him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Leigh, every point counts,” Gavriil reminded him. “Ian already has fifteen thousand points. You barely have half of what he has. How will you be able to catch up by then?”

The room fell into silence. Max wanted to argue, but he massaged his temple and gave up. There was no point in changing his mind. Gavriil was a lot more stubborn than he was.

Without saying anything, he reached out to touch Gavriil’s cheek.

Gavriil didn’t push him away. Instead, he closed his eyes, clinging to Max’s warmth.

“You’re really worried about me, aren’t you, Mr. Vice President?” Max asked, voice low.

Gavriil took a deep breath and planted both arms on either side of him, trapping Max in place. He leaned close, their bodies almost touching. With their eyes locked together, Gavriil whispered, “ Very. “

Max smiled and pulled his hand away. This time, he touched Gavriil’s golden brooch.

“Thank you for not giving Ari any punishments when he went against you earlier.”

“Should I be glad that you’re thanking me for such reasons?” Gavriil asked, his right brow raised.

“You’re acting like a kid.”

“You want me to act like an adult then?” Gavriil teased, putting both hands on Max’s hips.

But Max didn’t mind. Instead, he told him, “You and Ari are seriously like fire and ice. Why don’t you just get along?” 

Gavriil continued to stare at Max’s face. He leaned even closer, leaving only an inch of space between them. But before they could touch, Gavriil grinned and said, “Never.”

Max rolled his eyes and finally pushed the vice president off him.

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s what I said too.”

Max dusted off his uniform and straightened his collar while Gavriil stepped back and leaned against the table.

The playful atmosphere slowly faded.

“Leigh, use the suspension as an opportunity,” Gavriil said. “The way you responded to it earlier was good. It showed the others that you respect the rules, even though two brotherhoods backed you up. You led an excellent example.”

“Being suspended is an advantage now?” 

“Everything can be an advantage if you use it right,” he answered. “Anyway, you should head to the Great Hall before lunch starts. I heard the head chef hates tardiness.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Max dragged himself to the exit, ready to face his suspension with a positive attitude. But before he could unlock the door, he turned to Gavriil and told him, “Thank you for not taking my points away. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

“Alright then,” he answered. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“After your suspension,” he clarified. “Let’s have dinner.”

Max tried not to smile too much. “I’ll look at my schedule,” he replied, stepping out of the room before he could hear the vice president’s response.

[At the Great Hall , North Kitchen]

The kitchen was already busy when Max arrived. Workers were running around, carrying pots and pans. There was screaming, pushing, and chaos packed in one room.

It was a battlefield. After all, they’re about to feed almost six hundred rich and spoiled students in a couple of hours.

As Max tried to push through the crowd, he spotted a white uniform talking to the head chef. He hadn’t recognized him at first, but when he got closer, he almost laughed.

“Would you look at that? White suits you after all,” Max said as he approached CJ.

“You sly little fox, where the hell have you been?”  

“I was talking to someone.”

“It took you that long to—”

The head chef cleared his throat, instantly snapping the two back into attention.

“I apologize. Please take care of me,” Max immediately said with a respectful bow.

The chef cleared his throat again. “It’s good that you’re finally here. We only have three hours left before the bell rings. I want you two to peel those potatoes. We’ll need it for the duchess potatoes we’re serving with today’s roast beef.”

Max and CJ turned to the counter. They were expecting maybe ten potatoes at most, but to their surprise, the chef was pointing at a whole sack.

“T-That many?” Max asked in disbelief.

“Am I hearing complaints?” 

“No, chef!” the two quickly answered.

“Alright, now wash your hands, put on your apron, and start peeling! We don’t have all day.”

CJ and Max hurriedly did what they were told and got to the potatoes in lightning speed. On the counter were two peelers, a large pot, and another empty sack for the skins.

“For a school as big as this, they can’t afford an automatic peeler?” Max asked, already looking tired before he could even begin.

“No point complaining. Start peeling so we can get this over with,” CJ said, peeling the potatoes with no hesitation.

Max stared at him, amazed. It was a simple task, but it was a task that he had never done. So when he tried doing it himself, he found it unnecessarily difficult.

His parents taught him taxes before he learned to cook an egg. This was a combined incompetence.  

“I need to appreciate our cooks more,” Max said, trying his best not to cut himself.

CJ stopped and watched what Max was doing. “If you peel it like that, there wouldn’t be any potatoes left.”

Clearly embarrassed, Max put the peeler down and sighed. “How the hell are you good at this?” he asked, staring at the potatoes CJ was able to perfectly skin.

“I live by myself. I can’t always eat cup noodles,” CJ answered, grabbing the potato that Max decided to give up on. “Look closely. This is how you do it.”

CJ demonstrated the proper way to use the peeler. Thankfully, Max was a quick learner. CJ didn’t have to show him twice.

When Max tried it again, the results were visibly better. In his fifth attempt, he was practically a pro, and the two of them had gotten faster.

“I’m sorry about…” Max gestured at the sack. “…this. I was the one who started our negotiation, and now here we are peeling potatoes.”

CJ concentrated on his task. Without looking at Max, he told him, “You’re not the only one who benefited from that negotiation. Three days of suspension is a small price I’m willing to pay. Peeling potatoes, cleaning the toilet…that’s all fine by me.”

Max was taken aback.

CJ wasn’t a good person—they’ve both established that. But during moments like these, Max couldn’t help but admire him.

“CJ,” he called out, and CJ lifted his head, meeting his eyes. “I know this isn’t the right time or place, but…Can I ask what happened between you and your father?”

“What?”

“I mean, I know I shouldn’t ask, but I met Chairman Charles, and the two of you are quite similar. I just want to know what went wrong,” Max said, and CJ bit the inside of his cheek, trying to consider it.

“But if you don’t want to talk about it, I can clearly—”

“No, it’s fine,” CJ said, putting the potato down. “I agree with what you said. My father and I are sickeningly similar. Looking at him sometimes makes me feel like I’m staring at a mirror from the future.”

“So what happened?”

CJ leaned against the counter and stared at the workers, eyes empty. “What happened? Where do I begin to start.”

The noise in the kitchen almost disappeared as CJ tried to remember his childhood, a memory so distant he couldn’t even remember anyone’s face. “In my family, loyalty is everything. It’s power. Trust. Control. That’s what my father taught us. But loyalty is a two-way relationship. It’s not something you acquire if you’re by yourself.”

“Is that why you proposed the underlings to the association?”

CJ chuckled, remembering the day he told Janus he wanted white uniforms to work directly under him. The look of horror on Janus’s face was priceless, but now, he’s glad he got it approved.

“I value my Lighters, especially my Ashes. I’m loyal to them, as long as they’re loyal to me. And that very trait is why I hate my father,” CJ explained, bracing for a story he hadn’t told anyone in a long time.

“My father believes that because we’re his children, we’d automatically be loyal to him. I have three other siblings, and none of us has ever been sworn to him.

Our family was like a corporation. There’s no love or warmth, just action and consequences. Even my mother was cold, and that’s mostly because dad was an asshole.“

Max finished one potato and looked at CJ. He was expecting any kind of reaction from him, but he looked indifferent, almost like he held no grudge.

“We were told what to do and taught what to think. We were like remote-controlled robots, so I grew up to become an emotionless kid. But one day, my dad hired this lady. Her name was Alessandra . She became my caretaker,” he introduced, the mere mention of her name making him grip the peeler a little tighter than usual.

“She suddenly came into our lives and turned everything upside down. She took care of me. She taught me to be kind and brave. She held my hand, carried me, hugged me—things my own mother couldn’t do. She also taught me to be truthful. To always speak my mind…”

“No wonder you’re so truthful now.”

“I think so too,” CJ replied before getting another potato to peel.

“Alessandra was beautiful, inside and out. I loved her like family,” CJ continued. “Jacob was heir, so my parents looked at us like we were just his spare. But Alessandra saw me as a kid, and I was fine with my life as long as she was around.”

Max kept listening to him, but then he remembered something. The day he met CJ at the cemetery, he mentioned that the person he was paying respect to was the person who took care of him.

“Wait, Alessandra, is she—” Max looked back at CJ, and for the first time since he began sharing the story, Max saw the anger raging in his eyes.

“CJ, what happened to her?”

CJ put the peeler down and looked at Max. With a serious expression, he told him, “The Mills…They killed her.”

|END|

105 | Forced Loyalty

♞

MEAT WAS FRYING, WATER was running, and the head chef was shouting something Max could barely understand. But despite the noise, Max felt like he and CJ were the only ones in the kitchen.

“The Mills…they killed her,” CJ revealed.

Max almost dropped the peeler. Stunned. 

“What do you mean killed—”

“Well, not literally,” CJ clarified, which didn’t exactly make it better. “No one pulled the trigger or drew a knife. But with how things ended, that would have been better to accept.”

CJ tossed the potato he finished peeling in the other sack and grabbed another one. “I’m older than a lot of students here. I was already studying International Economics and Trade in Beijing when I was invited to enroll in J.S. High. I was a seventeen-year-old freshman,” he explained, which Max didn’t find odd.

J.S. High wasn’t a regular high school, which is why others don’t really label it as such. The houses are invite-only, and everyone invited, even though they’re already a senior in another school, will automatically be a first-year student.

This was implemented because of their Merit Points System. And out of all the students, only Max was given the exception to start his year as a sophomore.

“A lot of shit happened in J.S. High, so I barely visited home—not like my parents cared. I was usually crashing at that jester’s place,” CJ shared, the thought of it almost making him smile. 

“During the time I was busy surviving here, my father hosted a party. All the guests were powerful and well-known partners in our company…” he paused as the story became more difficult to recall.

Max noticed him struggle.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” CJ answered. “It’s not like it’s an untold secret. All my members know about it. It’s just something I try to avoid if I can.”

“But you’re comfortable sharing it with me?” Max asked.

CJ drew a breath and shrugged. He was unsure why he was even telling Max about it.

“Do you want to hear it or not? Because we don’t have all day,” he said instead, and Max nodded, ready to listen.

CJ continued peeling the potato, trying to distract himself from what he was about to say. 

“I was too busy in J.S. High. Things were getting complicated here, so I couldn’t attend the party. I didn’t know that Alessandra was tasked to attend the guest,” CJ said, and Max instantly knew how the story was going to end.

“There was a bastard chairman there. An old fucker. He took a liking to her,” he continued. “She couldn’t do anything. Something happened to her that night. That’s what she told me. And I believed her. Of course, I believed her.”

“But your family didn’t?” Max assumed.

“Oh, they believed her, too. They believed her because that old fuck admitted it to my father,” CJ revealed, and Max dropped the potato, mouth agape in shock.

“My father apologized to Alessandra and gave her money as compensation. He told her to keep quiet about what happened for our family’s sake. For our family’s sake,” CJ said, his voice rising like he couldn’t believe it himself even after all those years.

“Chairman Christopher Mills had a reputation to uphold. If news about their caretaker getting assaulted at a party he hosted were to go public, it would ruin him. He cared more about himself than the woman who took care of me.

He told Alessandra that she needed to be loyal to him in exchange for everything the family had given her. It’s always about fucking loyalty. Loyalty. Loyalty. Loyalty…“

Max looked down and quickly grabbed CJ’s wrist. He didn’t notice the blood on CJ’s hand.

CJ ended up cutting himself before he could realize it.

“Shit—” Max pulled the leader to a sink, putting his hand under running water to stop the blood from flowing. CJ fell into silence, eyes distant. But as Max turned the faucet off, CJ looked at Max and told him, “She killed herself, Max.”

Max expected sadness. But when he looked at him, all he saw was anger.

Was he blaming his father for protecting his image more than Alessandra’s justice? Or was he blaming himself for not being there to protect her?

“When she died, my family held a grand funeral for her. I felt sick. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I held it in, thought I could pretend like losing her was fine. But I went back to being that emotionless child. MJ and the others didn’t know what was happening to me. I just got angry and lashed out all the time. It ruined the stupid friendship,” CJ said, pulling his hand away from Max.

“I lost Alessandra and my friends. And when I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I confronted my father. I told him I’d seek Alessandra’s justice. It was what she deserved.”

“And your father saw that as you challenging his loyalty,” Max said, finally realizing what really happened between them.

CJ looked away from Max and nodded. “He disowned me. Said I’d rather choose a dead woman than my own father. He was right, though. I left that house as soon as I could. I had nothing in my name, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t breathe in that house.”

“So that’s why you established Kings Tobacco Company?” Max asked, understanding CJ a little better than before.

“Anthony helped me get back up on my feet. He was an heir of his own company. He almost got disowned because of me, but he stayed by my side. That’s why I owe my life to him,” he said, finally calming down after the emotional outburst.

“I have a lot of regrets.” CJ paused, looking down as if he was ashamed of something else. “It’s a lot more than I can bear, and that’s why I want to make things right. I need to be unreachable. It’s the only way I could avenge her.”

Max stared, unsure of what to say.

For a moment, CJ stood vulnerable in front of him. It was something Max never expected to see. 

It definitely put the leader in a new light.

“So, you gonna give me some advice? I heard you gave one to that baron and duke?” CJ asked, his usual grin returning.

Max wanted to laugh it off, but he couldn’t. “That was a lot to take in. If you want advice, I don’t think I’m the right person to give it to you.”

CJ laughed, grabbing his peeler again so he could continue with their task at hand. “I’m messing with you. I don’t need things like advice. I don’t need comfort or pity. You don’t have to use that to forgive me, either. It’s a story I shared, and we’ll leave it at that.”

Max wanted to argue, but he knew CJ was right. Nothing he said now would and should change anything.

“Well, thank you then, for sharing that story with me,” Max said. “And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing going against your father.”

CJ chuckled. “Well then, let’s continue peeling these potatoes. You’re way too slow. I’ve already finished half of the sack, and you’re still in your third one.”

“Hey, I already did six!”

“If you used your right hand, you would have finished twenty.”

“I’m left-handed. What did you want me to do?”

…

After hours of peeling potatoes and washing large pots and pans, the two suspended white uniforms were finally done with their kitchen duties. 

Thanks to CJ’s backstory, their dynamic somehow improved. Before, there had been an invisible barrier between them. Now, Max felt like he could genuinely put things behind them and consider CJ a friend. 

“The fun is finally about to begin,” CJ said as he wore a waist apron and a pair of gloves.

Max did the same and looked back at the hundred dishes that were ready to be served to the white uniforms and brotherhoods of J.S. High.

The bell had rung a couple of minutes ago, and the Great Hall was already flooded with hungry students. They were tasked to help serve food, specifically tables eight, nine, and the Royals’ balcony.

Max had the urge to complain, but he was already scolded by the head chef for working too slowly in the kitchen.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

They waited at the side with fifty other waiters, holding carts. They were sending out the appetizers and drinks first, which CJ and Max believed was going to be easy.

Earlier, the head waiter explained that every student was served according to their preferences. With the chart provided to them, the kitchen staff knew which students couldn’t eat pork, which had allergies, which were vegetarian or vegan, and even those observing religious fasting or dietary restrictions.

Each plate had a different colored lining based on those preferences. Max and CJ never noticed it before. It only made them appreciate the staff even more.

No work was easy work.

“If I accidentally spill food on a student, just knock me out so I can save myself from the embarrassment,” Max said while he and CJ lined up with the other waiters.

“Gladly,” CJ answered, making Max look at him in shock because he had answered so seriously despite it being a joke.

Soon after, the head waiter rang his bell. The doors to the stand-by station opened, and everyone rushed out, Max and CJ following right behind them.

The kitchen duties were child’s play—despite the head chef scolding Max a couple of times. The real challenge was facing the students. With no titles to protect them, the two were practically sheep thrown in a cage of wolves.

But with what Max did to CJ at this very hall, maybe waiting tables won’t be so hard.

“There’s our masters,” CJ said with a smirk, gesturing at a table of third and fourth-year gaffers.

“Great,” Max said sarcastically before putting on a smile. He might not be good in the kitchen, but when it comes to customer service, the heir to the biggest luxury hotel is an expert.

“Can’t believe CJ is wearing a white uniform,” a student whispered to another. When CJ turned to them, the two immediately looked away. Even though he was suspended, there were still plenty of students afraid of him.

“I’ll handle the fourth-years at table eight since they look like assholes,” CJ said, making Max raise an eyebrow.

“Wait, is the great Charles Justin Mills being considerate now?” Max joked, and CJ rolled his eyes back in response.

“Just go, for fuck’s sake.”

Max laughed and got to table nine. He expected laughter from them, making even someone dumping their drink on his head, but there was none of that.

Max smiled, handed them the food, and…

Nothing.

No one paid him any mind. Instead, some looked his way and even greeted him. Maybe Gavriil was right. The fact that he accepted the suspension without any fuss might have earned him the white uniform’s respect.

The reason for his suspension wasn’t something stupid or shameful either, so maybe that was why they weren’t mocking him. Then again, students already picked on him regularly. Suspension hardly made a difference.

“Enjoy,” Max said, placing the last plate on the table.

The juniors gave him a nod and went back to talking about their homework. Max gave out a sigh of relief and smiled, grabbing his chart to check on the main course they’ll be serving after a few minutes.

While Max rolled his cart back to the kitchen, he suddenly overheard someone from CJ’s assigned table.

“I fucking told you that I want lemonade, do you not understand that?” 

Everyone’s head turned.

“And I fucking told you that we only have tea, coffee, water, and soda. Are you fucking deaf?” CJ snapped back, instantly making the white uniform—a fourth-year gaffer—stand and grab CJ by the collar.

“What the hell did you say? Do you even know who I am?” the gaffer threatened, but CJ didn’t answer the obvious trap.

“If you don’t want anything, then let go. I still have to serve those bastards at the balcony,” CJ said, glancing toward the Royals, completely unfazed by being grabbed. He wasn’t stupid. If he fought back, his suspension would only get worse, and harsher punishments would follow.

The gaffer’s expression twisted with rage, and without warning, he punched CJ in the gut before releasing him.

“Know your fucking place. When I say I want lemonade, you should run to the kitchen, find one, and make it for me. You serve me, you useless cigarette,” the gaffer snarled before kicking CJ this time, forcing him to spit out saliva.

“CJ, are you okay?” Max rushed to his side, but CJ tried to push him away instead of answering.

“ Don’t try anything funny. Look around you ,“ CJ whispered.

Max looked around and realized everyone in the Great Hall was staring. Some Lighters were already standing, ready to intervene, but a Cigarettes member raised his hand to stop them. If they acted, it would only cause more problems for their Count.

Max stepped back, and CJ took a deep breath, gripping the table to help himself up. 

He looked at the gaffer again. “As I said, sir, we can only serve what we have. If you’re craving lemon so badly, then…” CJ paused, pulling something out before holding it out. “Here’s some lemon-ginger tea. You’ll be fine with that, right?”

The gaffer’s face shifted as he accepted the cup. “See? You could have done this earlier instead of bitching about it.”

Max exhaled in relief as the gaffer seemed to be heading back to his seat. But when he saw the grin spreading across the boy’s face, his instincts kicked in. Without thinking, Max sprinted back to CJ just as the gaffer spun around and hurled the hot tea at him.

CJ’s eyes widened, and gasps rippled through the hall. But just before the drink could hit him, Max grabbed CJ in a hug, taking the tea across his own back.

The entire Great Hall fell silent. Even the gaffer who threw the tea staggered back in shock.

“M-Max, are you fucking crazy?!” CJ roared, grabbing Max by the shoulder to look at him.

Max’s body trembled, his teeth biting into his lip from the pain. Still, he forced a smile. “L-loyalty is a bitch…isn’t it?”

CJ froze, unable to process what Max meant by that.

But when he saw Max flinch from the pain, he pushed the thought aside.

“Okay, take a seat. I have to do something first,” CJ muttered, guiding Max to an empty chair.

Every eye in the hall followed him as CJ turned back to the gaffer, his expression dark and dangerous.

The gaffer’s smug look crumbled into fear as CJ got closer. But before CJ could throw a punch, someone cleared their throat, instantly stopping him in his tracks.

He turned around, ready to pick a fight, but standing behind him were Max’s protectors: Jokers and BND.

Krist, visibly furious, cracked his knuckles. “You’re still suspended, so don’t do anything stupid.”

Hans stepped beside the Baron and added, “Don’t worry. We’ll handle it from here. It doesn’t say in our rules that others can’t take revenge on your behalf, right…white uniform?”

|END|

106 | Selfish Satisfaction

♞

“GO TAKE MY BROTHER to the clinic,” Marcus ordered. And even though CJ didn’t want to take any orders from him, he nodded and helped Max up from his seat so they could finally leave the Great Hall.

As the students watched the Barons and the Dukes closing in on the gaffer who had dared throw hot tea at Max, the boy practically stumbled back in terror, realizing what was about to happen.

“Now, shall we throw hot tea at you, too?” Brave asked with a menacing grin.

“Y-You can’t hurt me! Not in front of all these people. BND doesn’t even have a custom,” the gaffer stammered, almost making the two brotherhoods laugh.

He wasn’t entirely wrong. The brotherhoods had to uphold the White Uniform Protection Code, which meant they couldn’t target any white uniforms without a valid reason.

Sadly for him, valid reasons could mean a lot of things, and one of those things was…

“I can’t hurt you?” Master Joker asked as he stepped closer. “Oh, I can, don’t worry about that. But my little toy won’t like it, so let’s do something else instead. Something we’ll all enjoy.”

The gaffer didn’t know what the Baron meant, but his eyes widened when he heard the sharp crank of a jack-in-the-box. He slowly turned, spotting the box placed on their lunch table. Instantly, he collapsed to the floor.

“N-No…”

Students stomped their feet in rhythm, waiting for the tune to end. When the music finally stopped, Jack burst out of the box, making the gaffer flinch.

One by one, Jokers’ underlings, the Jacks, rose from their seats. And as the gaffer scrambled for a way out, Hans stepped forward, leaned close, and murmured, “Now, white uniform…let’s play.”

…

The nurse finished applying gel and a cold compress to Max’s back, which was raw and red from the hot water. Thankfully, it was only a first-degree burn. His uniform had shielded him. After all, even the standard white uniform was bulletproof.

When the nurse left, Max slipped his shirt back on. As he buttoned it, CJ stood at his side, arms crossed, and asked, “Why didn’t you just pull or push me away like a normal person would? You could’ve easily done that.”

Max laughed at the complaint. “A thank you would’ve been nice. And besides, if I’d pushed you out of the way, the students behind you would’ve been burned instead. That would’ve been even more troublesome.”

CJ sighed and let it go.

When Max was dressed, he looked at CJ and drew in a deep breath. “What that white uniform did was horrible. I even think it was over the top. If he had really hit your face, J.S. High would’ve been facing another scandal.”

“So you were more concerned about that?” CJ asked, chuckling.

“Well, that’s not entirely true…but it’s not entirely false either,” Max admitted, and the two laughed together.

As their laughter faded, Max tugged at his necklace and looked at CJ again. “You asked me earlier if I had advice for you. Do you still want to hear it?”

CJ was caught off guard, but he nodded anyway. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

The room fell silent until Max spoke. “Since you’re a truthful person, then let me be honest with you, Count. Students hate you because of how cruelly you treat them. They hate you so much that one of them wanted to throw boiling water at you.”

He held CJ’s gaze. “I listened to your story earlier because I wanted to understand your nature, but it seems I didn’t get anything. What happened to Alessandra doesn’t justify what you’ve done. Your violence has caused pain and trauma to other students. Your customs are cruel and unjust, and the only pride you have is your underlings.”

Finally, Max asked the question he had been holding back: “Why would you do all that to others? What makes you think you can do such things just because you had a terrible past?”

The silence stretched. CJ stared blankly, as if absorbing the words. Then, suddenly, he laughed—loud, hard, almost manic. Max could only watch in confusion.

When CJ finally calmed down, he wiped at his eyes and grinned, sending a chill down Max’s spine.

“You’re quite amusing,” CJ said. “Did I somehow give you the impression that I was nice, little Maxy? Did you think what I’m doing is some kind of coping mechanism? What are you, my psychologist?”

“W-What?” Max asked, bewildered.

“This isn’t about Alessandra. As I said, the story I told is just a story, and nothing more,”  CJ explained. “That’s why I told you there’s no reason to pity me. It’s just who I am.  It’s for my own selfish satisfaction, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

“What I’m doing outside has nothing to do with what I’m doing in J.S. High. So if you’re wondering why I treat white uniforms like shit, then let me tell you,” CJ paused, stepping closer to Max’s bed. 

With a sadistic grin, he leaned down and whispered, “It’s because it’s fun.”

Max froze. Hearing those words jolted him back to reality. He was one of the perfect examples of CJ’s cruelty—stepped on and beaten nearly to death by the very same person he once thought could change.

That was when Max finally realized…there was no changing CJ. There was nothing to change. This was CJ’s true nature, the same since the day they met. Why was he still surprised?

“I’m not like MJ. I don’t start something and chicken out halfway. And to correct your ignorance, my custom isn’t cruel. Students know the consequences of our Tobacco deal, but they still agree to our terms. I don’t force anyone, Sinclaire. What happens to them is their choice,” CJ explained as he reached for Max’s necklace.

“They become our homeboy, and if things go to shit, we become theirs. It’s nothing personal. If I can stomach the fact that you used my own brotherhood to beat me up in the middle of the Great Hall, then they can stomach the fact that I can do the same to them.”

Max snatched the necklace from CJ’s hand, earning only a chuckle.

Stepping back, CJ locked eyes with him and said, “People gamble. They know the consequences if they lose. That’s the beauty of my custom. You don’t need a sad backstory for that, only a bunch of white uniforms brave enough to take a bite of it. If you still don’t know that, then you wasted your time. You learned absolutely nothing from me.”

He patted Max’s head like a child. “Loyalty’s a bitch, right? Well, I’ve fucked it up before you could even realize it.” Then he turned toward the door.

“Make no mistake, Sinclaire. There will never be a time I’ll bow to you. I know your capabilities, but you’ll never get me to stand beside you if you can’t even understand the purpose of my brotherhood. Don’t fit me into your own narrative. I’m not an honorable and just hero like Krist and Hans—and I never will be.”

He gripped the doorknob, glanced over his shoulder one last time, and added, “Thanks for blocking me earlier, though it was a stupid move regardless of your reason. If you’re fine now, head back to the Great Hall. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Max speechless.

He sighed and massaged his temple. CJ was such a complicated man, and the fact that Max had always known what type of man he was only made it worse. 

For a moment, he had thought there was something about CJ worth rooting for. Apparently, what you saw was what you got with the leader of Cigarettes.

Now, Max was left wondering: if CJ was already this complex, what about Siren, Joon, or Viktor?

“I feel like I’m back to square one,” Max whispered before lying back down, wincing when he forgot about the mild burn on his back.

He was still trying to sort out his next move on how to make the Counts his protectors when the door opened. Max sat up, and his expression softened at the sight of his visitors.

“Guys,” he said with relief.

Ari, Felix, and Ervin entered, Felix looking especially shaken after witnessing Max get scalded earlier.

“My god, Max, can you stop making us worry?!” Felix exclaimed, running to hug him.

Max chuckled, patting Felix’s head before glancing at Ari and Ervin. “Please tell me Jokers and BND didn’t just throw hot water at the guy’s face.”

“Don’t worry, they had the Jacks handle everything,” Ervin explained, making Max sigh, though he wasn’t sure that was much better.

“Anyway, I was surprised you blocked CJ like that. I’m still bitter about your relationship with him, you know?” Ari said bluntly. “Did you magically forget what he did to you? He literally beat you up in front of us and never apologized. What is this, a new form of toxic relationship?”

At CJ’s name, Max sighed again, enough for the three to exchange glances.

“It’s not like that,” Max said. “My relationship with CJ is more like a mutual understanding between business partners. I benefit from him, and he benefits from me. Nothing more.”

“So…does that mean you’re not going to be able to conquer Cigarettes?” Felix asked hesitantly.

Max sighed again. “ If you still don’t know that, then you wasted your time. You learned absolutely nothing from me. That’s what he told me. And somehow…it made me feel heavy inside. Did I waste my time with CJ? Of course not. I got my inheritance back because of him. But was that it? Regarding my relationship with him in J.S. High…there’s literally nothing there.“

Ari sat on the edge of the bed, took Max’s hand, and said, “Alright, since you’re so conflicted, let’s think this through. Did you really not learn anything from that asshole? Isn’t there something you realized?”

Max stared at the ceiling, hopeless. “I…honestly don’t know.”

“Come on, Max, think about it. After everything with CJ, I’m sure he doesn’t entirely hate you. Maybe he doesn’t entirely like you either, but that’s not the point. From how he acts and thinks, what did you realize?” Felix pressed.

Max touched his chin, replaying every moment with the counts.

“CJ was different from Jokers and BND. Krist showed me the flaws of the system and how those flaws made Jokers the laughingstock of the school. Hans taught me to honor and bring pride to our House. They showed me the reality of how others see J.S. High,” Max said.

“And CJ? What did you find in him or Cigarettes?” Ervin asked.

Max groaned, buried his face in a pillow, and shouted, “I don’t know!” With his voice muffled, he added, “All I know is that Cigarettes are a bunch of bullies who torture white uniforms for fun. If I learned anything from that, then I’m an idiot.”

“No, that can’t be it,” Ari countered. “Think of it this way. Jokers did their customs because of Krist’s anger and pain rooted in his parents’ abuse. And CJ, what’s his intention?”

“That’s the point, Ari. He has no intentions. He’s just cruel to white uniforms. He ruins the brotherhood’s reputation and—” Max cut himself short, eyes widening as the thought struck him.

“That’s it!” Max suddenly shouted, startling the three.

“What’s it?” Ari asked, brows furrowed.

“We always see Cigarettes as villains and the white uniforms as victims. But that’s not always the case. CJ told me their custom isn’t entirely cruel. Remember that story of a white uniform who asked them to beat someone up? Cigarettes did it for him, and then he did the same thing back. That was the deal.”

“So it’s always been an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?” Ervin asked. “They’re like a twisted genie. You get your wish, but you pay the price. Is that what you’re saying?”

Max reached for his empty collar.

“Loyalty is everything,” Max told them, repeating the exact words CJ had told him earlier.

“It’s power. Trust. Control. But loyalty is a two-way relationship. It’s not something you acquire if you’re by yourself,” Max continued, the words having more weight now than the first time he heard them.

“That’s it,” Max said, excitement returning to his eyes. “I know what I have to do now. I know how I’ll be able to conquer Cigarettes.”

|END|

107 | Third Protectors

♞

THREE DAYS. 

It took Max three stressful days to complete his suspension. 

After all the community service and the hurtful things other white uniforms threw at him here and there, he finally walked down the hallway wearing his brooches with pride. And as the vice president promised, Max didn’t lose one thousand merit points.

“I can’t believe I’m finally done with my suspension,” Max told Ari, Felix, and Ervin as the four of them headed toward the Great Hall for lunch.

He had received his brooches back yesterday, and CJ was already in his black uniform before Ian could even make it official. 

And despite their exchange at the clinic, CJ and Max acted as if nothing had happened. CJ was still the same count from day one, and Max was still Max. There was no point in ranting about what happened anymore.

Max made a mistake comparing Cigarettes with Jokers and BND when it had been obvious from the very beginning that nothing about them was similar.

Jokers usually don’t make deals. They may take requests, but their customs always end up with a victim. They choose the target. They make the rules. Power is always one-sided.

BND, on the other hand, doesn’t have customs. They see brotherhoods as those with power and responsibility. Again, the relationship is one-sided.

But with Cigarettes, as Max had just realized a little too late, they consider white uniforms as transactions. The fact that CJ made the concept of underlings should have made it obvious.

There are no victims in CJ’s deals. The deals are consented. You do something for me, I’ll do something for you. White uniforms know what they’re getting, yet they still take the bait. If the deal fails, CJ takes the fall. It has always been that way.

This was CJ’s twisted idea of loyalty.

Loyalty for him is not friendship.

It’s not kindness.

It’s not morality.

It’s not truth.

It’s sacrifice.

Because in Cigarettes’ deals, they believe that if you can’t sacrifice for what you want—if you’re not willing to suffer for it—then you don’t truly want it enough.

That’s the nature of the tobacco deal.

Anthony gambled his inheritance for CJ. CJ got disowned for Alessandra. Every action, every deal, has consequences. Facing those consequences to CJ is loyalty.

It was obvious from the start.

“What’s lunch going to be? I’m starving,” Ari said, draping his arm around Felix’s shoulder.

“It’s probably something with soup. They usually alternate the dishes,” Max answered, remembering the schedule after working in the kitchen for three days.

His friends all looked at him with surprise until Ervin chuckled and teased, “Seeing you serve food for us made me realize life can really be fair sometimes.”

Ari and Felix burst out laughing, and Max lightly punched Ervin’s shoulder in return.

When they reached the Great Hall, they went straight to their table, where Jokers and BND were already waiting.

“There’s my little toy!” Krist called out excitedly as they arrived.

Rome leapt from his seat and threw his arms around Max. “I missed you so much! It pained us to see you working in the kitchen all day. One of the students even threw food at you. I was so pissed, but Hans told us not to do anything, so all we could do was watch in agony.”

“Don’t make me look like the bad guy all of a sudden,” Hans said dryly, making Max chuckle.

Once Rome let go, Max and his friends sat down.

“So, how was working with CJ? I bet he was a total pain in the ass. That guy knows nothing about teamwork. He’s a selfish prick,” Brave muttered, slurping on a juice box he’d stolen from a white uniform.

“He was actually fine,” Max said, which earned him several doubtful looks.

“Fine? You mean CJ? The same CJ who dumped cold soda on me when he didn’t like the flavor his homeboy bought? That CJ?” Red asked, wide-eyed.

“I mean…he didn’t do anything harmful. He just did his job as a suspended student. No trouble, nothing like that,” Max clarified.

Arjun, overhearing from the other table, chimed in, “Well, CJ isn’t really the type to make trouble. When you think about it, he does his job well. He’s truthful, too, so you just get used to his personality. We should know—we’ve been with him for almost four years.”

“No! Not you too, Arjun!” Red whined until Khian smacked him to shut him up.

Even Hans, who often disagreed with his right-hand man, nodded in agreement. “I guess we should give the Count some slack. CJ’s not always a bad guy. Most of the time, people don’t even notice him because he works in secret. He’s not flashy like Viktor, which is nice. Besides, Cigarettes are loyal to him, and that says a lot about what kind of leader he really is.”

“I know, but wasn’t it weird seeing him in a white uniform again?” Hansol asked, making Max snap his head around.

“What do you mean again ?”

“Well, all of us were white uniforms before, too. Cigarettes and Jokers wore the uniform longer since they only started as sophomores,” Marcus explained.

“I guess I think I kinda assumed that before, but I never really pondered about it,” Max said, touching his brooches. “But still, I can’t imagine you guys in white uniforms. Being in brotherhoods looks natural to all of you.”

“The Royals were the first to form their brotherhoods, then BND followed. Cigarettes came the next year, same with Jokers, and then Crazy 8. If you weren’t aware, the Marquis used to belong to the House of Pawns,” Hans explained.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. Cindy told me during the Welcome Ball. But I’m still surprised about the other information,” Max said before taking a sip of hot coffee.

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it before,” Hans told him.

“We might’ve covered it in Brotherhood History class, but I’ve been absent a few times, so I must’ve missed it,” Max replied, making Krist chuckle.

“I mean, it’s hard to imagine them as white uniforms because they’re basically the pillars of brotherhood,” Ari chimed in.

“Viktor created Brotherhood Customs. CJ introduced underlings. Jokers became the father of the we-don’t-care ideology that’s now trendy in the lower houses, while BND was the first to claim a brotherhood base,” Ari said, sharing his extensive knowledge about them.

“Wait, we were the first to claim a base?” Red asked, surprised by the sudden trivia.

“Anyway, calling us pillars is a bit overkill. I mean, for starters, we were all forced to become brotherhoods. It’s not like we had a choice,” Brave said casually, immediately earning a sharp pinch under the table from Master Joker. 

Realizing what he had just blurted out, Brave gasped and nervously laughed.

“Please forget I just said that,” he muttered, leaving the table in awkward silence. 

Thankfully, the waiters arrived with food just in time, shifting attention away from Brave’s slip. One even greeted Max since they had worked together during his suspension, which Krist and the others still found strange.

While everyone enjoyed their lunch, trumpets suddenly echoed through the Great Hall, automatically making all white uniforms stop eating and rise to their feet. Max and his friends stood as well.

The Royals had arrived as scheduled, and the students bowed deeply as the procession began.

The princes entered first. 

The Dangerous Five wore their stone faces as they made their way to the balcony. The Pretty Duo carried their usual playful, sensual aura, chatting easily as they walked. Ren Adachi even winked at Max as he passed.

Next came the Hot Wingmen, with their leader, the ice prince Kim Hee-joon, following behind them. The squad radiated strength, while Joon looked utterly tired, as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

Finally, the eight kings, Busters, entered behind the princes. Though Viktor remained missing, their presence still overwhelmed the hall. Their temporary leader, Tanis Hendrix, walked like a true king, long silver hair flowing as his cape swayed. The sight made even Max feel tense, reminding him just how far he still had to climb.

Once the Royals reached their seats, the rest of the students resumed eating like a switch had been flipped.

“Can’t believe Viktor is still missing. Any idea why?” Ari asked, sipping his chicken soup.

Hans, seated beside him, didn’t even look back. “We don’t know, and we don’t care. Honestly, it’d be better if he never came back.”

“Should you be saying that out loud?” Max asked, concerned the Royals might overhear. Hans just shrugged. As the leader of the Dukes, if anyone could talk back to the Royals, it was him.

While they continued their meal in peace, the doors of the Great Hall opened again, revealing the last brotherhood to enter: the Cigarettes.

The Lighters stood to bow to them, while most ignored their arrival. Max stopped eating the moment he saw them. As Cigarettes made their way to their balcony, he suddenly stood as well, surprising Master Joker and the others.

“Max…w-what are you doing?” Marcus asked, alarmed. But Max ignored him, taking a steady breath as he walked toward the Counts.

Marcus instinctively rose to follow, but Hans grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Whatever he’s about to do, let him be,” Hans said firmly. 

Marcus sighed and was forced to watch from afar.

Cigarettes were laughing and playing around, but fell silent when they noticed Max approaching. Even the surrounding white uniforms turned to watch.

“Oh, if it isn’t our cute little master,” one of the members teased.

Max gulped, clenched his fist, and drew another breath. He’d been thinking about this moment for three days. There was no turning back now.

“Counts,” Max said, facing CJ and locking eyes with him. 

In an instant, the other white uniforms stopped talking, waiting to see what was about to unfold.

“I would like to once again thank you for allowing me to become your master. It was an experience that made me realize a lot of things,” Max said, making some of the Cigarettes chuckle as they remembered that moment too.

While the six Counts stared down at him, CJ stepped forward. “What’s this all about, Sinclaire? If you want to say something, then say it.”

Max glanced around at the white uniforms watching before returning his gaze to the Counts. 

“I misunderstood you and your members,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I always gave the white uniforms the benefit of the doubt, even though I’d been bullied by them too. But white uniforms aren’t always the victims, and you never saw them that way either.”

The claim made everyone pause.

“I realized your customs aren’t cruel. They only prove that white uniforms will go as far as striking a deal with you because they’re cruel.”

The white uniforms listening began murmuring at his bold words. Even Ari couldn’t believe Max was brave enough to call them out like that.

“ So this is what he meant when he said he knows how to conquer Cigarette s?“ Ervin whispered, and Ari and Felix shrugged, just as confused.

“They say your deals are always to your advantage, but I think it only means you know who to make a deal with. White uniforms agree to your terms because they want to beat someone up, manipulate their scores, or bully someone. They use you so they won’t feel guilty, then blame you for the consequences afterward,” Max continued, and a grin slowly spread across CJ’s face.

“I know now that my goal was never to tame Cigarettes. My real goal was to realize that the brotherhoods in this House aren’t the only ones who need taming,” Max said, stepping closer, his voice firm with determination.  

“Loyalty means sacrifice, and that’s exactly what I’m willing to do.”

Max reached out for his collar. Before any of his friends could react, he suddenly removed his Sinclaire brooch, surprising everyone.

“What are you—”

Max looked directly into CJ’s eyes and hid the emblem inside his pocket.

He had removed the only thing that placed him beyond the brotherhoods’ authority. Customs could still reach him, but no king, prince, or member could claim power over him while he wore the brooch.

But today, he took it off.

A foolish move that might cost him everything.

“Charles Justin Mills…”

The white uniforms gasped. Hans and Krist jolted to their feet in shock.

“My Counts…” Max said as everyone stared in disbelief.

Dropping to one knee, Max touched his chest and lowered his head. “Please, if you stand beside me and assist me, I will make this House unbreakable. I will fix our flawed system, unite the brotherhoods, and rebuild the crumbled pieces. I will strengthen the ideologies and attitudes of the white uniforms and make them this House’s strongest foundation. We will rebuild J.S. High together, and I promise you…” His voice carried through the hall with commanding force.

“My loyalty is beyond every sacrifice,” he finished.

Though it seemed like he was speaking only to the Counts, the entire Great Hall had gone silent.

Some students thought Max sounded cocky, even arrogant, but they couldn’t deny the impact of his declaration. Goosebumps no doubt rippled through the crowd.

“ What a speech, “ Krist said proudly as Jokers and BND watched with pride, acting as if they were watching their own child.

The Royals, too, were impressed. No white uniform had ever stood before the entire student body and declared something so bold. Even the ice prince, Joon, smirked in amusement.

Every eye was fixed on Maximilian Leigh Sinclaire.

The image of him reminded them of his countless victories. 

It reminded them of his battle with Jokers, his outstanding performance in Mr. Brains & Brawn, and his bravery for going against his father and claiming back his inheritance.

For a brief moment, they saw a strong, capable man who could raise their banners high.

For a brief moment, they saw their future Elite President.

“You really are amusing, you sly little fox,” CJ suddenly said with a chuckle, making Max lift his head.

CJ didn’t say anything else, but he tossed something to him. Max caught it and looked down—surprised to find a pack of cigarettes he had never seen before.

“Tamer’s flavor…” Max murmured, a smile tugging at his lips as he read the label.

“It’s our way of thanking you for what you did for the company,” Anthony, CJ’s right hand, said.

“It’s also our thanks for blocking our boss from that hot water,” another member added, making Max chuckle.

Unsure what else to say, Max just looked at them. CJ turned and began walking toward the balcony, the Counts following behind. But before leaving, CJ called out, “That’s our strongest flavor. Not everyone gets the privilege to taste it, so take a look and see if you’re worthy to use it.”

Max furrowed his brow and opened the pack, expecting cigarettes. Instead, it was empty—except for one thing.

“Your loyalty is beyond every sacrifice? Okay then. Let’s see how long it takes for you to fulfill such a daring promise,” CJ ended as they disappeared toward the balcony.

Max’s eyes widened as he pulled out a crown brooch. Gasps echoed through the hall. Even Jokers and BND themselves were shocked. 

For the third time within the House of Kings, everyone witnessed Maximilian Sinclaire conquer another brotherhood. 

They witnessed him take another step closer to his goal.

“Cigarettes!” Max shouted, finally standing. 

He looked down at his palm, staring at the brooch with an excited smile. After admiring the crown, he clenched it in his hand and shouted, “That’s a deal!”

|END OF VOLUME III|

CIGARETTES

SYSTEM_BOOTING…

[ OK ] J.S. HIGH DATABASE

[ OK ] HOUSE OF KINGS ARCHIVE

[ OK ] BROTHERHOOD REGISTRY

ACCESSING_FILE…

INITIALIZING_SYSTEM…

LOADING LOADING. LOADING.. LOADING…

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■] 100%

FILE_FOUND

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/af819eb3e7f496c3fc9e766a4d03815e7688b754/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f72476d54546e4f70716778634d673d3d2d313135303234353238332e3138623562343237383766643861363932313136383335353237332e676966)               

BROTHERHOOD: Cigarettes

RANK: #5

TITLE: Counts

LEADER: Charles Justin Mills

Charles Justin “CJ” Mills is known as the disowned heir of the Mills Family, creators of the world’s largest cigarette chain. His upbringing shaped his harsh attitude, and students fear him as much as they do the kings.

With his family’s influence twisting his worldview, CJ built his brotherhood on his own ideology, which is why forming the members was a crucial part of its creation. He even invited Krist Hyusen to join, but the jester declined.

CJ also created the concept of Underlings, insisting that working alone is nonnegotiable. To him, loyalty is a two-way system, and leaders should accept help when needed.

Beyond J.S. High, CJ founded King’s Tobacco with his right-hand man, Anthony. Though the company began as a tool for revenge against those who hurt his caretaker, his sharp business sense proved he is still very much the son of the Mills.

[MEMBERS]

NAME:  Anthony Rockefeller

YEAR: 4th Year

TITLE: Right-Hand Man/ Second in Command

CJ met Anthony during his turmoil. While skipping classes, the leader found Anthony in an abandoned basement that would later become their base. Anthony recognized CJ and told him how terrible the Mills Tobacco tasted. That was the beginning of their odd friendship.

NAME: Pablo Blanco

YEAR: 4th Year

Anthony and Pablo were classmates in Class II-C. While looking for members, Anthony suggested him, as he had been suspended multiple times for bad conduct. CJ liked his personality and eventually recruited him as a member.

NAME:  Clint Buffett

YEAR: 3rd Year

TITLE: 1st Battle Grounds Designer

Clint was the quiet kid you wouldn’t notice at the back, but CJ did. While walking down the hallway with Anthony, he spotted Clint tinkering with a mechanical watch. CJ saw his potential and recruited him, giving him the resources he needed to become the Battle Grounds Designer that he is today.

NAME:  Kevin Harrington

YEAR: 3rd Year

TITLE:  2nd Battle Grounds Designer

The only member besides CJ who belonged to an A-Class. Despite being a dweller and a straight-A student, Kevin was constantly bullied by gaffers. Tired of the humiliation, he made a deal with CJ, who was still recruiting members at the time.

Kevin became their homeboy shortly after. CJ expected him to quit after enduring the trials set by him and Anthony, but Kevin persevered until the very end.

As CJ later explained, “I had no choice but to recruit him.”

NAME: Daniel Page

YEAR: 3rd Year

TITLE: Scout

Another troublesome member of the Counts. CJ had no real reason to recruit Daniel other than the fact that he liked the neck tattoo he got at fourteen. According to CJ, people would automatically be intimidated by him, making him perfect for the role of Scout.

As the Scout of Cigarettes, Daniel is responsible for identifying potential dealers and introducing them to the brotherhood.

NAME: Orson Bloom

YEAR: 3rd Year

Orson was once a member of the Ashes, where he played the keyboard. However, after getting caught selling CJ’s cigarettes during school events, he was expelled from the band. Instead of getting angry, CJ saw it as an act of loyalty and later accepted him into Cigarettes.

As the last member recruited into the brotherhood, Orson remains the newest and shortest-serving Count.

BASE: Basement

UNDERLINGS: Lighters

The Lighters, the first underlings ever created, follow direct orders from their Brotherhood and are forbidden to act outside those commands. Despite Cigarettes’ reputation, they remain respected for how they treat other White Uniforms.

Cigarettes also have four elite underlings known as the Ashes. They’re the Lighters who wear black leather masks. They speak directly with Cigarettes’ members and relay messages to the rest. They also handle the toughest deals, which is why the Ashes are seen as future Cigarettes once the seniors graduate.

CUSTOM:  Tobacco Deal

White uniforms who need someone to do their bidding will strike a deal with the Cigarettes. Once the deal is fulfilled, the student will be the brotherhood’s homeboy as payment. How long they’ll become their homeboy will depend on how difficult the deal was. But if Cigarettes do not fulfill the deal, the payment will reverse, and Cigarettes will become their homeboys instead.

MAXIMUM MP GRANT: 1000 points

MOTTO:  “ You cannot use a cigarette without a lighter. “

[END OF ACCESS]

[ARCHIVE NAVIGATION]

► FILE 06 — JOKERS

► FILE 05 —

CIGARETTES

► FILE 04 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 03 —

BOYS NEXT DOOR

► FILE 02 — [DATA LOCKED]

► FILE 01 — [DATA LOCKED]

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

Some Brotherhood Archives are restricted. Students may only access files of brotherhoods ranked below or equal to their clearance level. To unlock additional records, earn Merit Points, or gain authorization from the Brotherhood Association.

[NEXT AVAILABLE FILE]

INITIATING_ACCESS…

CONNECTING TO J.S. HIGH ARCHIVE

SEARCHING HOUSE OF KINGS DATABASE

FILE LOCATED

[ACCESSING FILE 04]

[■■■□□□□□□□□□□□□□] 12%

AUTHOR’S NOTE

And we have officially finished Kings on the Horizon Vol. 1-3! 

Coming back to this was such a joy, and seeing readers return to it has made this even more meaningful for me. I’ve read your messages, your feedback, and even your theories, and know that I take all of them to heart.

I started writing when I was 11 years old in a notebook my uncle got as a freebie at L’Oreal. In 2012, at thirteen, I first wrote Kings on the Horizon, which was called “School Days” at that time. KOTH had multiple rewrites, and this story was the first book I ever published at a different site back in 2013. 

In January 2021, I republished it on Wattpad. And now, in 2026, after another rewrite, I’ve promised myself it will be the last time I touch this book.

I’ve spent thirteen years of my life writing KOTH. To be real with you, there was a time I felt like it was a curse. In my head, I kept on saying that I could have written so many other books if I had just stopped writing this. But after all those years, this book became my saving grace. 

My older readers know that I am not in my best mental state all the time, which is why my books usually have dark themes. And this is the reason why I keep disappearing and coming back. But after so many things that happened, Kings on the Horizon is the only story that has been helping me move forward. It’s the story that lets me feel hopeful.

I got to write again because of KOTH. I got to sit down, create scenes, fix dialogues, and just relive the world with all of you. You have no idea that you’ve saved me just by reading my work. I’m serious.

To my old readers, you’ve seen my growth like no other. You guys are the reason why I’m still writing. You guys are the reason why I want to make sure I finish this book.

To the newer readers, how’s the journey so far? You decided to walk with Max and me, so you have to join us till the end, okay? It’s not going to be a perfect road, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it the rest of the way.

There are still six volumes left! Yes, Kings on the Horizon spans Volumes 1-9! And I’m planning an epilogue book, which would be Volume 10. It’s too long, I know, but trust me, it’s going to be great.

I know how disappointed others were when I decided to take down the other volumes. I know how heated the announcement was, and the number of messages I got was definitely overwhelming, but I hope this version has been a visual representation of my dedication and vision for this book.

I’ll be posting Volume 4 TODAY. Those who read this later, the book would already be on my profile by now . 

Vol. 4 is where most of the action really starts, especially since we’ll finally meet a very CRAZY black uniform. I hope you guys are ready.

Also, final announcement, I’ve been working on something for a while now. I have not slept properly for WEEKS because of this.

And for everyone asking…

.

.

.

  ![](https://img.wattpad.com/1ed3d0fce272c5e42f5cbadc2f19343445dfb893/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4b4f467747744258442d386469513d3d2d313135303234383433352e313862366664643265343930626336343736393533343630313531392e706e67)               

[ PICTURE IS ONLY A SAMPLE . Shoutout to my sister for making this. ]

You can now purchase a paperback version of Volume 1 on AMAZON !

Yes, you read it right, Kings on the Horizon Volume 1 will now have a physical copy. Gosh, I never imagined I’d say that. EVER. My thirteen-year-old self would never believe me.

I’m trying my best to price the book as low as I can, but I hope you understand that it’s not going to be SUPER cheap. I apologize in advance . But I did price it close to the minimum that Amazon lets me. Further announcement for this will be posted when everything has been finalized. I just wanted to share my excitement because I can’t hold it in anymore lol

Now, to everyone worried, no, I am NOT  taking Kings on the Horizon down on Wattpad. You can and will read the entire book here for free. (I’m not making it a paid story either, don’t worry). I know how loved this book is, so I won’t do that to you guys. I did this only for those who want a physical copy of the book. If you want to see it in your bookshelf or hold it physically, then this one is for you. 

BUT reading it here on Wattpad is still fine. Your reads, votes, and comments already mean the world to me. ( Shameless plug: you can also support me on Ko-fi. Link in my profile .)

I’m planning to sell the complete volumes on Amazon, all will have different covers and such, but for now we have volume 1 because I never thought publishing was just as hard as writing the damn book 😭😆The technicalities of it have made me lose my mind a couple of times.

I guess that’s it.

Thank you, everyone, for giving KOTH a chance.

None of this would be possible without everyone’s support, so I’ll pay you all back with everything I’ve got. Okay?

This is your author N, or for physical copy owners, this is G.J. Serdoncillo 😉. Let’s see this story to the end!

My Wicked Ways

VOL. 4 - 6

The continuation of Kings on the Horizon can be found in a SEPARATE BOOK  with the same title , just with a different cover . You can find the book in my profile.

This has been Kings on the Horizon Vol. 1- 3. Join me till the very end of Max’s journey in the next volumes. See you there!