Classroom Of The Elite: Strings of The Puppeteer Master

The sleek black phone buzzed in Nero's hand, the sharp ring cutting through the silence of his dorm room. He answered with a curt, "Yes?"

"You done your part yet?" A gruff voice rasped from the other end of the line.

"Yes, it's currently in motion," Nero replied, his voice a low, measured drawl. "I'll ensure the White Room candidate is flushed out."

"You know what to do. I don't need to hold your hand."

"Of course," Nero chuckled, a hint of amusement in his tone. "What do you take me for?"

"Good. I'll leave it to you."

The line went dead. Nero stared at the phone, a calculating glint in his eyes.

"Now, who could possibly be behind this?" he murmured to himself, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

He slipped out of his dorm, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere within. He headed towards Keyaki Mall, a sleek, modern complex that catered to the needs of the privileged students. His destination: a high-end electronics store.

Inside, he navigated the maze of gleaming gadgets, his gaze fixed on a discreet, high-definition camera. He purchased the device with a flourish, the crisp sound of the transaction echoing in the otherwise hushed store.

"Hey," he said to the startled sales clerk, his voice deceptively casual. "I need a small favor."

* * * Back in his dorm, Nero logged into his school account. The sleek, minimalist interface reflected the school's emphasis on efficiency and order. However, beneath the surface, a vibrant undercurrent of student activity flowed.

The school, despite its attempts to control information flow, couldn't entirely prevent students from connecting. A discreet network of student-run websites and forums had sprung up, offering a platform for communication and information exchange.

Nero had created an anonymous account, his username a cryptic "RW_Know i." He accessed a discreet forum dedicated to the "Student Labor Program," a platform where students could post tasks and others could bid for the opportunity to complete them for points.

His gaze fell on a profile marked with a dismal three-star rating: Asuka Kuzo. "Bingo," he muttered, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Not bad at all."

He composed a detailed description of the task, outlining the requirements and the expected outcome. With a final, chilling touch, he sent the request.

"Request sent!" he declared, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Now, he had to wait. But he knew Asuka, desperate for points, would not be able to resist.

A notification chimed from his laptop. "She's quick," he observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.

The message read: 'Of course, I can accomplish that... although I will need equipment's.'

"She shouldn't fret," Nero murmured, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. 'Don't worry about that, I'll provide the necessary equipment you'll need.'

He sent the message, a chilling promise hanging in the air.

'Okay, when am I expecting this even to take place?' Asuka responded promptly.

'Don't worry about that for now. I'll inform you when the time comes. We'll talk price later.'

'Understood.'

The first step was complete. Now, the stage was set.

Nero dialed a number, the sleek phone connecting him to his target. Ryuen's voice, gruff and impatient, answered on the first ring.

"Who is this?"

"It's just me," Nero replied, his tone casual.

"Oh... What do you want?" Ryuen's voice was laced with suspicion.

"Well, according to your little scheme," Nero drawled, "the fight should be taking place in the edge of the school garden, right?"

"That's right," Ryuen confirmed, his voice tight. "It's crowded with bushes and most cameras are centered on the far side of the garden."

"While that is a splendid place," Nero mused, "I'd prefer you do it in the gym."

"Why is that?" Ryuen's voice sharpened.

"Will you do it or not?" Nero's voice was deceptively calm, but an undercurrent of steel ran beneath the surface.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then, Ryuen's voice, laced with barely suppressed fury, echoed through the room. "I don't know what you're planning, but..." he growled, "fuck this up, and I swear I'm gonna—"

"I guess you'll comply," Nero interrupted, cutting him off. "Goodbye, Ryuen."

He ended the call, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. He had planted the seed, a subtle but significant change in Ryuen's carefully laid plans.

Now, he would wait. Wait and watch as the events unfolded, eager to see if the White Room student would make his move.

This was just the beginning, a small tremor in the carefully constructed facade of the school. And Nero, the silent architect of this chaos, was ready to observe the tremors spread.