"Ah, sir, please wait a moment! That table is reserved for other guests—"
Realizing the situation was about to escalate, the waitress quickly reached out to stop him.
But Ryuen Kakeru had no intention of listening. Without acknowledging her, he turned and strode across the aisle toward Sakayanagi's table, the corners of his mouth lifting like a predator catching the scent of prey.
His three subordinates followed closely, leaving the waitress frozen in place, powerless to intervene.
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder behind them, but Kure Ragna remained indifferent.
The mutton slid into the boiling pot, sending ripples through the bubbling broth. The rich aroma of the simmering meat filled the air instantly.
Kure Ragna stirred the pot lazily with his chopsticks, then licked the tips to test the flavor. Finding it satisfactory, he casually set down the empty stainless steel plate.
At that moment, someone stopped beside him. A mocking voice rang out from above.
"Oh, I was wondering who it was. Isn't this Arisu from Class A?"
(Note: In the original novel, Ryuen calls all girls by their first names, regardless of familiarity.)
Ryuen Kakeru smirked, barely glancing at Kure Ragna's back before shifting his gaze to the petite, silver-haired girl sitting across from him.
"Where are your royal knights, Arisu? Don't tell me you've given up playing queen? Or wait—" His grin widened. "On the very first day of school, you've already cozied up to upperclassmen?"
Upperclassman?
The unexpected remark made both Sakayanagi Arisu and Kure Ragna pause. Even Kure, who had just lifted a piece of boiled mutton with his chopsticks, froze mid-air.
A brief silence followed.
After some thought, Kure Ragna decided the food came first.
"Arisu, let me ask you something."
"Yes?"
Swallowing the hot mutton, Kure Ragna exhaled, smacked his lips, and spoke with a solemn tone.
"Do I look like an upperclassman to you?"
"Not at all~"
Their casual exchange completely ignored the Class C students standing beside them.
Being disregarded so blatantly made Ryuen Kakeru bristle with irritation. But he wasn't a fool driven purely by emotions—he quickly analyzed the information at hand.
Not an upperclassman... meaning he's in our grade.
As if struck by sudden inspiration, Ryuen's smirk returned. He leaned forward, tilting his head with an air of provocation.
"You... you're from Class D, aren't you?"
"And what of it?"
Kure Ragna dropped another plate of fatty beef rolls into the pot.
Hearing his indifferent response, Ryuen Kakeru scoffed, running a hand through his hair in exaggerated amusement. His shoulders shook as he let out a theatrical laugh.
"Did you all hear that? No wonder I didn't recognize him. Turns out he's just another defective product from Class D! Hahaha, this is priceless!"
But before he could finish his laughter, something appeared in front of him—a rectangular stainless steel plate, still dripping with water.
It didn't hit him. It simply stood between them, raised with precise control. The suddenness of the movement caught both Ryuen and his subordinates off guard.
Behind the plate, Kure Ragna's voice carried a hint of exasperation.
"Why are you laughing so loudly? Your spit is about to get in our food. At least have some manners. And please, tone it down—you look like one of those NPCs from Solo Leveling who died in episode two while praying to God."
"...What?"
Ryuen Kakeru blinked, momentarily thrown off by the bizarre analogy.
Setting the plate down, Kure Ragna sighed.
"Ryuen, was it? That name doesn't ring any bells. I don't recall any major corporations or influential families with that surname. No, in fact, I wouldn't even call it a well-known family name."
Ryuen's smirk faded slightly, his voice growing colder.
"And what exactly are you trying to say?"
"Don't you get it?"
Kure Ragna glanced up at him.
"I'm saying that not everyone in this school is desperate to claw their way to Class A. For me, reaching Class A isn't even a priority—it's just something to amuse myself with in my free time."
Leaning back slightly, Kure Ragna continued.
"Oh, by the way, do you know Kouenji from our class? I doubt he cares about Class A either. He's the sole heir to the Kouenji family fortune. Whether he graduates from Class A or Class D, it makes no difference. Hell, even if he drops out, he'll still be set for life."
Pausing for a moment, he studied Ryuen's expression, then let out another small sigh.
"Alright, to make things easier for you, I'll put it in terms even you can understand."
He stretched his hands out as if framing a scene.
"Imagine this. One day, the internet café you frequent hosts a local MOBA tournament. You, the so-called 'God of War' of that café, eagerly sign up. Just as the tournament starts, some rich guy happens to be passing by in his sports car, a girl in each arm. On a whim, he decides to join for fun."
Kure Ragna paused briefly, letting the scene settle in Ryuen's mind.
"And then, against all odds, you're in top form that day. You dominate every match, cutting through your opponents like a knife through butter. You even defeat the rich guy. Brimming with pride, you look at him and shout, 'See? I'm the real champion here!'"
A smirk tugged at Kure Ragna's lips.
"But instead of being fazed, the rich guy just smiles, holds his girls a little tighter, walks outside, gets back in his luxury car, and drives off.
"And here's the real kicker."
Kure Ragna leaned in slightly, his tone dropping.
"Let's say you push even further. You struggle, you grind, and eventually, you make it to the world championship. And just as you're about to bask in your glory...
"The tournament organizers announce a special exhibition match. The opponent? None other than that same rich guy you beat in round one at the internet café. Except now, he's sitting across from you, dressed in a custom Armani suit.
"Naturally, you defeat him again.
"But instead of being angry, he walks over, shakes your hand, and says—
'Hey, kid. You've got potential. How about joining one of the subsidiary teams under my subsidiary company... as a substitute player?'"
Glancing at the silver-haired girl across from him—who had turned away, shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter—Kure Ragna curled his lips.
Then, shifting his gaze back to Ryuen, he found his opponent's expression had darkened to the shade of the boiling pot.
"So, do you get it now, Internet Café God of War Ryuen Kakeru?"
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