The atmosphere inside the academy shifted perceptibly. What had once been whispered rumors and private encounters had now begun to crystallize into something far more dangerous: influence.
Johnson walked through the main corridor with measured calm. Eyes followed him—some curious, some wary, others openly hostile. His presence no longer went unnoticed. It unsettled the established order, especially within the underground hierarchy that governed Prison School beyond the official rules.
Mika caught up to him first, her usual playful confidence tempered by unease.
"People are talking," she said quietly, falling into step beside him. "Not just students. The underground council is watching you."
Johnson did not slow. "Good," he replied evenly. "Visibility creates leverage."
From the other end of the corridor, Hana observed them. Her expression was unreadable, but her grip on the railing betrayed her inner turbulence. Control had always been her domain—routine, order, predictability. Johnson represented none of that. Worse, he attracted attention effortlessly.
Later that day, the silver-haired girl confronted him in the library, her tone low and deliberate.
"You're disrupting the equilibrium," she said. "People like stability here. Fear keeps the system intact."
Johnson met her gaze without flinching. "Fear is a blunt instrument. Loyalty lasts longer."
She studied him carefully, then smiled faintly. "You're dangerous."
"I know."
Meanwhile, the black-haired newcomer moved differently. She did not confront him directly. Instead, she listened. She watched. She gathered fragments of information—who resented him, who feared him, who wanted something from him. When she finally approached him that evening, her words were precise.
"You're building something," she said. "Not a harem. An axis."
Johnson turned to face her fully. "Power isn't taken here," he said. "It's conceded."
That night, tension rippled beneath the surface of the academy. Alliances began to fracture. Jealousies sharpened. Possessiveness turned strategic. Each of the girls around Johnson reacted differently—Mika with impulsive defiance, Hana with tightening control, the silver-haired girl with calculated curiosity, and the black-haired girl with quiet ambition.
Johnson stood at the center of it all, not by force, but by gravity.
They think this is about desire, he reflected.
They're wrong. This is about dominance.
And the board had only just been set.