**"Gambling and life are not parallels; they are the same line traced twice."-author-mephistopheles 1901**
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Kimura Madarame Baku's (pov)
I usually stand out in Kakerou gambling.
When opponents lose against me, some scream that I'm inhuman. Others shake, whispering that I'm a monster. Spectators murmur that I can't be human, and referees—even the veterans—have called me an alien with inhuman perfection or the man with the brain of god and calmness of a devil.
The titles given to me are many.
A perfect leader.
An alien.
A grim reaper.
But the one that stands out the most—the one etched into the bones of those who faced me—is Usogui, the Lie Eater.
The one who devours an opponent's deceit strips their soul bare and leaves nothing behind.
Being the 21st Leader of Kakerou, ruling for more than 2 years since I was 14, I came to understand something deeply.
Gambling and life are not parallels; they are the same line traced twice.
People lose everything in gambling: their money, their families, their dreams… even their lives. That is the world of losers.
But winners—
Winners gain money, authority, and power. They gain everything they can imagine. Sometimes, they gain life itself when it was already slipping toward death.
I don't know why these thoughts keep circling in my mind, but eventually, I made a decision.
I told Yakou and the top 10 referees to manage Kakerou for three years.
Because for once… I wanted to live with people of the same age.
But living normally means my life could also be forfeited by someone in the near future. The balance I maintained for 2 years is fragile; letting go is a gamble itself.
That's why I'm in this school—a place that boasts of "elite futures." I don't find it special, but I might as well try. The next STL will only happen if someone's exclusive referee is ranked 0. Until then, I have time, and I predict that it will happen in about two years. So, I have time to spend here. Well, whatever—I won't lose anything.
"Look, he's so beautiful! He looks like some kind of angel, right?"
"Yeah, Sako-san, he's really hot. He might be rank 1 in boys this year."
"I think so too…"
The girls in the class gossip about me nonstop.
I don't want to hear it—but who wouldn't feel a bit amused?
Hehehe… everyone likes being called handsome.
As I sat, I solved the Rubik's cube with my left hand and ate candy with my right.
Click, click, click.
Solved in six seconds.
Then, I scrambled it again.
Then solved again.
A small routine to keep my mind sharp while I think.
"Ah, you must like solving this continuously, right… Kiruma-san?"
A girl's voice floated from behind me. She approached while checking the nameplate on my desk.
I turned toward her voice.
Pink hair cascaded down her back like silk, catching the light with every slight movement. Her face—the symmetry, the softness—might be among the most beautiful I've seen. Even Horikita, the ice queen, paled beside her in pure appearance.
Well, Horikita has her own cold charm.
Hmm… interesting.
"As it keeps my mind busy when I am thinking something. And you are?"
"Oh, I am Honami Ichinose. Nice to meet you, Kiruma-san. Please take care of me."
She held out her hand, her smile warm and disarming.
I followed suit, shaking her hand. Her fingers were soft, small, gentle—almost unreal for a school setting.
"Likewise," I nodded with a small smile.
"So what were you thinking?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. Her tone was curious, but not intrusive—she knew how to read people.
"Well, about the new school and classmates. Few other things."
The truth was far more than that.
Even while talking, I was mapping the room.
Surveilling the school is important. I noticed what most students failed to: cameras everywhere.
Even outside.
I haven't checked the surroundings yet, but in the school alone, cameras are planted like roots.
Not once did I look directly at them. I found the camera in Class D only because I saw it from the corridor as I passed by that class.
Every class must have one—even ours.
But I don't want to turn toward the camera. Cause I need to know something.
There are several possible reasons for this much surveillance.
First — Bullying.
A school that boasts elite education would want strict control over barbaric behavior like harassment.
Well, calling bullying barbaric… maybe I've become soft watching too many students today.
Second — Monitoring teachers.
Some teachers get lax. If this school wants high performance, it would monitor lectures and discipline. Or it could be more than that.
Third — Preventing cheating, extortion, theft, and other moral violations.
Basic security.
Fourth — Student behavior analysis.
This one is far-fetched for an ordinary school, but we aren't in an ordinary school.
A school built on an artificial island, funded by billions of yen… surveillance isn't impossible.
It would not surprise me if they had people watching us.
These are the deductions I have for now.
The cameras are also placed in corridors, hallways, and even near teacher compartments—where students must visit to register for assigned seats.
For the fourth reason… I need to test something, that's why I didn't turn to face the direction.
That's why I never once looked directly at the camera in our class.
I only deduced its location by observing where students occasionally glanced before ignoring it. They might think it's for show—or even if it works, who would spend eight hours watching students sit in class?
Well, someone who runs this school… might.
"Oh well, we were also thinking about this. I already have some friends in class. I hope—if there is any problem you face, please ask me. If you need any help, we will help each other. That's what classmates and friends are for, right?" she said with a cheerful smile, chuckling softly.
"Also, there are many cameras here and there, so there won't be any fights or other violence among students, so it's quite alright."
My eyes widened slightly—not because of her ability to notice the cameras in the corridors, nor solely because of her kindness. My eyes widened because she did not lie about the first part: helping others in times of difficulty. People who work toward such ideals—helping others simply because they believe it is right—are rare, almost nonexistent. And the fact that she could deduce the presence of cameras, something most students ignored even after glancing at them, showed that her observation skills were higher than she let on.
I smiled and nodded with a slight sense of appreciation. "Thank you, Ichinose-san. I would ask for help if I ever find myself in a dire situation." With that, our conversation concluded, and Ichinose began wandering around the classroom, talking to others she hadn't met yet.
For her to do this on the first day… There was no doubt she might become our class representative if it were a normal school
Even before the homeroom period, Ichinose was socially active with the students, even though it was our first day and we barely knew one another. This kindness and trustworthiness truly deserved to be applauded.
I thought she might be a good candidate for the leader of our class. And why leader instead of class representative? Two words—similar, yet entirely different.
A leader is someone who must ensure safety and stand against those who threaten the group. True, she might seem soft, but there is no one better than her. A leader who rises through violence won't last long—once defeated, their authority collapses. A leader chosen through intelligence or appeal won't last long either—one failure and their followers crumble.
But a leader who rises through trust, loyalty, and genuine bonds… even if their will is shattered, they will rise again, supported by the faith of those who chose them.
And why does a class even need a leader? Because I know already… competitions between classes are inevitable. I deduced this from the first information I obtained about this school: the total number of students is 160. Well—
Before I concluded my thoughts, the bell rang. Students across the class settled down their things in less than a minute. Seeing this, I nodded in approval. This class was typical of a normal high school, not in the sense of academics, but in the type of students. Average students, some might be top in academics too, I don't know yet—not elites, not delinquents, somewhere comfortably in between.
Then, as part of the first day's curriculum, we headed toward the gymnasium for the entrance ceremony. Standing in the section reserved for Class B, boys and girls lined up in two rows. I turned my face to the right.
There, in Class A, was Kaji—talking to a girl with purple hair. He turned and nodded toward me. I returned it with a smug smile.
Can't deny it. Kaji-chan really is desperate.
Now, where is Marco? I turned toward Class C. There were two hulking figures—one dark-skinned, the other light-skinned—talking to each other. Is Class C full of gym freaks or what? Then I saw the other students—clearly troublemakers. They weren't bad, but their behavior screamed, "We'll open a loan shark shop in the future."
On my right was Class A—uniform, punctual, elite-like. On my left… Class C, screaming delinquency.
But where is Class D?
As if on cue, Class D arrived—in pieces. Three students walked in, then five, then two… then one. I hummed in amusement.
Class D undeniably looked like a zoo. No care for decency, no sense of uniformity, no awareness of being watched by the entire gymnasium. Among them, I noticed a boy with short blond hair awkwardly arranging himself, then Kushida, the black-haired girl, and the "wood-log boy."
One word for Class D—circus.
Yet, even in a circus… There is always a joker whose role is far more meaningful than the audience realizes.
After a few minutes, the Student Council President stepped onto the stage. He introduced himself as Horikita Manabu, Class 3-A. His speech radiated pride, discipline, and authority—unsurprising for someone of his position.
After we returned to the classroom and settled down, the bell rang again—the sign of the homeroom period that had been postponed earlier.
A few minutes later, the classroom door slid open with a cheerful swish.
A woman with warm copper hair stepped inside, practically radiating sunshine. Slim waist, noticeable hips, and a chest size she subtly used to her advantage.
Not overly exaggerated, but enough that most students couldn't ignore it.
Her smile alone brightened the entire room.
"Good morning, my lovely students!"
Several students straightened in surprise.
Class B — known for its optimism and harmony — replied almost automatically:
"Good morning, Sensei!"
Chie Hoshinomiya beamed, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely touched.
"You're all so polite! I love it already. I'm Hoshinomiya Chie, and I'll be your homeroom teacher. Yoroshiku ne~!"
She added a small, bouncy wave — cute, energetic, almost sparkly.
Girls smiled warmly.
Boys straightened nervously, cheeks slightly pink as they tried not to stare too long.
"Well, we will be spending our blissful time together, and welcome to the Advanced Nurturing High School. You all are going to be in Class B, and since there won't be any homeroom changes for three years, it means I'll be spending lots of time with you. Fufufu~"
Some girls whispered to their boyfriends in a cute, half-embarrassed way.
Most students blushed — even Ichinose.
Except Baku.
Hoshinomiya's eyes sharpened subtly as she analyzed every student.
Then she reached into one of the two boxes she brought.
"Well first, students, Sensei will give you these rulebooks about the school. These include the rules regarding the school, surrounding areas, dorms, and other necessary regulations. Take one and pass it along, okay~?"
She neatly arranged the stack and handed it to the front desk.
After a few moments, I received my copy as well. I flipped through the pages — quick, precise — absorbing everything.
Hoshinomiya continued, tapping lightly on the board.
"Well, I'll explain the most important rule regarding this school. Every student will live in the dorms, and while you're in school, your ability to leave campus or contact the outside world will be nonexistent — or extremely limited."
Students straightened instantly, listening with full seriousness.
"But fear not, my students." She gave a reassuring wink.
"This island contains everything you need — entertainment, restaurants, games, adventure facilities, movies, sports, and much more!"
Some boys' eyes sparkled.
"All your daily needs — food, clothes, anything you can think of — will be available. And to buy all this, you will use points stored in the school's official computer system."
She held up her phone playfully.
"From this box, I'll hand out your school phones. Log in as instructed, okay?"
The phones were passed down the rows. Students, one after another, logged in and saw their IDs — and the balance sign.
Before anyone could shout, Hoshinomiya continued, her voice lilting mischievously:
"These points are the only currency here. No need for physical money. Points are allotted on the first day of every month. One point has the value of one yen."
She paused dramatically.
"You have already been allotted one hundred thousand points for this month."
"100,000!?"
"No way!"
"Is this real!?"
One girl nearly dropped her phone as she checked her balance.
Ichinose stared at her own phone, shocked that the school would grant such a huge incentive right on the first day.
Baku did not even flinch.
Instead, he smiled — a smile that, if noticed carefully, would chill someone to the bone.
"Well!" Sensei clapped. "Surprised? This is the value placed on you as students. This school judges students based on proficiency. This is the standard worth of every first-year student admitted here. Your next allotment of point time will be on the first day of each month."
Some students — like Kanzaki and Ichinose — also realized the number behind the number:
160 first-year students…
Meaning 16 million points allotted on day one.
A staggering investment.
As the murmuring settled, Ichinose stood up with her usual grace.
"Classmates, since we'll be spending three years together, why don't we introduce ourselves?"
Hoshinomiya approved with a bright nod.
There wouldn't be any more classes anyway; students still needed to settle into dorms.
Introductions began — cheerful, harmonious, typical of Class B.
But Baku was somewhere else entirely.
His consciousness shifted into multilayered calculation — silent, absolute, terrifyingly efficient.
He had already memorized the entire 40-page rulebook word for word, down to punctuation.
His learning speed was so monstrous that even a supercomputer would struggle to keep pace.
Just like Hoshinomiya-sensei said, the allotted points for this month are 100,000.
But she never said that 100,000 points would be assigned every month, nor did she explain the variable that determines the value of those 100,000 points.
She only said:
"This is the standard worth of the one admitted to ANHS."
Meaning:
The standard can fluctuate.
It could depend on class exams, behavior, attention during lessons, academic results, or dozens of other invisible metrics.
Another point to observe — Class C and Class D clearly do not look like the caliber of elite students this school boasts about producing.
Then came the thought — the information I already know paints a clearer picture:
There will be competition.
Relentless, calculated, merciless competition.
We will be staying in this school for three years, even before I set foot on the bus that led me here.
How did I deduce so much from knowing the total student count — 160?
Simple.
I researched the top colleges and top companies.
Every year, only 25 to 35 students are selected from elite institutions.
So what happens to the remaining 120+ students?
They become stepping stones.
Fodder.
Fuel for the success of the few chosen ones.
This is a battlefield disguised as a school.
I also checked the campus information displayed on the school's official website.
At first glance, the layout looked ordinary—just glossy promotional images, smiling students, cherry blossoms dancing in the background.
But the dormitory pictures were what caught my attention.
From the angle of the photograph and the number of visible windows, it wasn't hard to calculate.
The first-year dorm building was large enough to house at least 160 students comfortably.
They never stated the exact capacity, of course.
But buildings always reveal the truth to those who know where to look.
Now, with the points arranged by the school, it becomes even clearer — the school uses points as a carrot.
This carrot must be granted through performance, or maybe through competition between classes.
Then another important statement:
Hoshinomiya-sensei will remain our homeroom teacher for all three years.
This means we're expected to function as a single unit, not just as 40 individual students of Class 1-B.
But what about the first month?
How will they evaluate our worth during the first evaluation?
The first month's curriculum is already laid out.
If the evaluation is based on class behavior…
Would they really monitor us constantly?
I need to test that hypothesis before drawing conclusions.
There might also be another type of point entirely — one that determines our individual worth.
That variable remains behind the curtain, hidden until more clues appear.
There's also the phrase "you can buy anything."
This isn't just face value.
This means more than buying goods.
It implies purchasing information,
non-material advantages,
maybe even exam scores.
It sounds like imagination — but it's possible.
There could even be a value assigned to canceling expulsion.
Because considering the statistics…
Only 20% of graduates seem to enjoy the life this school boasts about.
These conclusions I reached from the hints she gave…
If I were to tell my classmates, I'd definitely become a spotlight target — which I absolutely do not want yet.
There must be hidden pieces in every class.
They wouldn't place all the incompetent students together, right?
Then my thoughts drifted to Class D.
Well…
Hmmm… I need to put my prejudice aside for now.
I nodded to myself with a quiet huff — which probably looked comedic from the outside.
I can't tell my classmates about this, or even my teacher.
Her personality is too bubbly, too butterfly-like, too expressive.
If she learned that a student figured all this out within fifteen minutes of rule explanation…
She would absolutely brag about it to other homeroom teachers.
And that would expose me.
I don't want that — not until all the chess pieces are on the board.
There's also a chance seniors might enter this chessboard.
Even if they do, their information can be bought.
But the hidden ones?
Those particular pieces…
Their information cannot be bought.
They're hidden for a reason.
Remember that, you dumbass readers.
Where was I?
Ah.
I need someone to act as the forefront leader.
My eyes shifted toward the girl with pink hair — Ichinose — who was still standing, listening to the introductions with perfect composure.
Well, anyway, this school is quite normal.
But Marco would find it hard…
I just pray no one attacks him.
Jesus, please save that poor soul.
As the student standing in front of me finished their introduction, I couldn't help but drift into thoughts of my past.
From the age of ten, Baku had gambled.
At eleven, he discovered Kakerou — and after victory upon victory, he earned membership.
He amassed wealth, power, and influence through gambles that danced on the edge of death.
The day he won against the 20th leader of Kakerou — heir to a position passed down since 441 AD — he made his first request to the leader
Adopt me. He just needed a family.
That day, he became Kimura Madarame Baku.
Usogui — the Lie Eater.
The Alien. The White Devil.
THE 21ST LEADER OF CLUB KAKEROU
A legendary gambler who had never lost.
A being whose mind could dissect illusions, devour lies, and outmaneuver fate and destiny itself.
When the student before him sat, Baku rose slowly.
"Hello. Nice to meet you all. My name is Kimura Madarame Baku. You may call me Baku. I hope we spend our three years together creating good memories."
He smiled — mischievous, unreadable.
"My hobby is… gambling."
A few murmurs echoed.
Some girls blushed.
"And my goal is world peace… maybe."
Soft laughter from the student could be heard after that,
Clapping — mostly from the girls.
Some boys were jealous, but no one felt hostility.
"Ahhh!" Hoshinomiya suddenly gasped, pointing dramatically.
"Aren't you the one who gambled with the person who interviewed you!?"
Her cute expression made several students chuckle.
Baku nodded calmly. "Yes."
The class erupted.
"Who gambles during the interview!?"
"That's some anime plot!"
"But the interviewer accepted? Wouldn't he get penalized?"
Eyes turned to Baku for explanation.
He remained silent, but Hoshinomiya pouted adorably.
"Pleaaase? Pleaaase? Won't you tell your one and only cute Sensei why you gambled with your interviewer?"
Students leaned forward, practically begging to know.
Baku sighed quietly — he could not withstand that combined pressure.
"The number of total students admitted to ANHS. I gambled… to ask that."
Silence.
Then—
Pfft—
Laughter broke from almost everyone.
Even Sensei giggled behind her hand.
"Why did you gamble just for that? You could have known on the first day of school, too…" a boy beside him asked, still puzzled.
"Well, who knows?" Baku smiled mysteriously.
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AUTHOR REVIEW & MESSAGE TO READERS
I want to share something
This fanfic was inspired by MilkyWayAndromeda, whose work "Light Yagami in Classroom of the Elite" is absolutely superb.
Their writing motivated me to try creating my own psychological, mind-game-heavy novel, and I sincerely recommend you check out their project—it's genuinely impressive and deserves more attention.
As for this novel:
I'm planning to turn it into a full-fledged, long-running series if I receive enough support from you all.
Your comments, reviews, and feedback mean a lot. They help me improve, stay consistent, and push myself to write better chapters.
I'm still new to writing a full psychological thriller fanfic—especially with a complex character like Baku—so I hope you understand if I fumble here and there. I will keep growing as a writer, and I promise to give you the best story I can.
Thank you for reading, and please enjoy the journey of Kiruma Madarame Baku.