The tension in the classroom was palpable as Daimon and Haruto engaged in a silent battle of egos. Daimon, keen to assert his presence, saw an opportunity when the teacher posed a particularly challenging question to the class.

Without hesitation, Daimon raised his hand and answered confidently, his response not only correct but also laced with a hint of superiority. The class fell silent, impressed, and surprised by the new student's knowledge.

However, Daimon didn't stop there. Sensing an opportunity to further establish his dominance, he pointed out an error in the teacher's earlier explanation. His tone, while factual, bordered on condescension.

The teacher, taken aback by Daimon's audacity, bristled at the correction. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Kaito, there's a way to address mistakes without being disrespectful," the teacher responded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Daimon, unfazed, replied with a cold heart, "I thought accuracy was important, especially in an educational setting."

This retort only served to aggravate the situation. The teacher, feeling openly challenged in front of the class, decided to take immediate action. 

"That's enough, Mr. Kaito. You can spend the next period in detention reflecting on how to communicate appropriately."

Following the incident in the classroom, word about Daimon quickly spreads throughout Noon High School. The hallways buzz with whispers and rumors about the new transfer student:

"Did you hear about the new guy, Daimon? He totally called out Mr. Sato in class today!"

"Seriously? On his first day? What did he do?"

"He corrected Mr. Sato's mistake in the lesson. But, like, in a really bold way. Mr. Sato was so 

ticked off, he sent him to detention."

"I heard about that Daimon kid. They say he's super smart but kind of intense."

"Yeah, Haruto didn't seem too happy about him either. Looks like there's going to be some drama."

"I kind of want to meet him now. He sounds... different."

As Daimon entered the detention room, the atmosphere shifted palpably. The room, usually filled with an air of boredom and resignation, bristled with a new energy at his arrival. 

Thirty students were scattered around, some lounging lazily, others quietly working on assignments. 

Among them were seven students who clearly commanded a certain level of respect and fear — the unofficial “rulers” of Noon High School. And among these seven was Haruto, his presence as commanding here as it was in the classroom.

Haruto's eyes locked onto Daimon the moment he stepped in. The tension between them was like an electric charge in the air, felt by everyone in the room. 

Daimon walked in with his usual cool composure, but there was a sharpness in his gaze, an unspoken acknowledgment of the challenge that lay ahead.

The students, sensing the undercurrents of rivalry, began to size up Daimon. Whispers and speculative glances bounced around the room. Daimon, aware of the attention, chose a spot away from the others, deliberately isolating himself. 

His posture was relaxed, yet there was an unmistakable alertness about him.

Haruto, leaning back in his chair, watched Daimon with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "So, the new guy's got guts," he murmured to his group, loud enough for Daimon to hear. 

"Let's see how long that lasts in here."

One of the school “rulers”, a girl with a sharp gaze, called out, "Not often do we get someone who dares to cross the teachers on his first day. What's your story, Kaito?"

Daimon glanced at her, then around the room at the others. "No story. Just here to study" he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

The room fell into a hush, the students exchanging looks. They were used to ruling the roost in detention, and Daimon's indifferent attitude was a challenge to their dominance.

As the detention hours ticked by, the tension in the room never fully dissipated. Students tried to goad Daimon into reactions, but he remained aloof, responding only when necessary and keeping to himself.

Haruto, meanwhile, continued to observe Daimon, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something about Daimon that intrigued him — a sense of depth and complexity beneath the cool exterior. The silent battle of wills between them was far from over; it was just beginning.