Trumpet sounds were heard, and the students cheered so loudly 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.

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 when 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 can still apply to 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 world's largest tobacco company, hence the name. Besides being cocky, CJ was also the most unsympathetic leader of them all. Maybe it was how 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 smiling. 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.