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!"