High-Class Ball

The buzz around Kraft gradually died down over time, but its impact hadn't completely disappeared.

For example...

"The All-New York Middle School Joint Exchange Ball?"

Kraft frowned, asking in confusion, "What kind of bullshit is this?"

The Black kid who brought the news, Michael, who had previously discussed aesthetics with Fatty Liao on the school bus, shook his dreadlocks and explained to the classmates surrounding him at high speed.

It turned out that the so-called "All-New York Middle School Joint Exchange Ball" had been held for many years. However, although it was nominally "All-New York," with dozens of middle schools in the city, only a few prestigious schools and the rest of the private middle schools could truly participate. Schools like Vantas Public Middle School, which were obscure and mostly comprised of other ethnic groups, simply didn't qualify. If it weren't for Kraft's recent surge in popularity, which also brought some fame to his school, they wouldn't have had a spot at this year's ball.

Even so, Vantas Public Middle School's participation quota was extremely limited. The school's higher-ups were currently inquiring about the details of previous balls to decide who would attend this time.

But no matter what, as the main reason for receiving an invitation, Kraft was definitely indispensable.

"Can I not go?"

Kraft pouted. He wasn't the typical party animal common in America and had no interest in balls or anything similar.

Weren't Tiger Head Pliers more appealing? Why waste time on boring things like dancing?

"That's impossible, Kraft. Others can make excuses to decline, but you absolutely cannot be absent. You're the main reason our school received an invitation, and the school won't let you miss it for anything."

Michael replied, shaking his head and swaying. Kraft actually understood this; he was just complaining casually.

Although Kraft was very reluctant, when the principal of Vantas Middle School came to him and earnestly lectured him, he had no choice but to accept the task with a grimace—to lead two other students from the school to attend that damn "All-New York Middle School Joint Exchange Ball."

That's right, although Vantas Middle School received an invitation, the quota was only three, and one spot was locked for Kraft and couldn't be replaced.

Time quickly passed, and it was the day of the ball. Kraft put on a suit that made him feel very awkward, using hair wax to style his usually messy hair into a more mature look.

Martin Lee stood in front of Kraft, straightening his collar, then placed his hands on Kraft's shoulders, admiring his appearance with satisfaction. "Not bad, you look like a handsome young man."

Then he sent Kraft out the door and handed him over to the two other students waiting outside.

"Kraft will be in your care. He's quite young, so please look after him a bit."

"Don't worry, Mr. Lee."

Francisco, the oldest of the three, was a twelfth-grader of Latino descent and the student council president of Vantas Middle School. He was more adept at social interactions. Kraft was only the nominal leader; in reality, the school had entrusted the main exchange tasks to Francisco. The principal had also briefed Kraft on these matters, so he just needed to show up and eat and drink.

Another spot was given to a senior Asian student from the tenth grade. She wasn't a prominent figure at the school and was quite ordinary in every aspect. The only reason she was selected was that her father was a school board member, and a rather influential one at that.

"Hello, I'm Amy. Please take care of me."

The senior bowed ninety degrees and introduced herself.

"Are you Japanese, senpai?"

Seeing Amy's gesture, Kraft instinctively started conversing with her in Japanese.

"Hai! My mother is Japanese. Your Japanese is very good, Kraft-kun!"

Amy covered her mouth and replied in Japanese with a peculiar accent, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Uh... let's just talk in English..."

Kraft broke out in a sweat. This girl's broken Japanese was worse than his pronunciation, and it sounded incredibly awkward.

"Kraft is really amazing! Not only has he invented so many interesting things, but his Japanese is also so good!"

Francisco, who was good at navigating social situations, seized the opportunity to praise him.

"Heh, it's alright."

Having mastered multiple languages through dreams without putting in any effort, Kraft felt a bit ashamed as he raised his hand, habitually wanting to scratch his head. After touching his stiff hair, he remembered he had styled it today and sheepishly lowered his arm.

The three of them got into the limousine specially prepared by the school and headed to the venue of the ball, a dedicated campus of a private middle school with astonishing tuition fees... The prefix of this school's name alone would explain why its tuition was so high.

A relatively pleasant conversation helped the three of them pass the time during the journey.

"This is... exaggerated..."

Upon arriving at their destination, Kraft clicked his tongue as he looked at the so-called dedicated campus for gatherings, filled with envy and jealousy.

Since it was a ball, there was naturally a ballroom. It wasn't a place for clubbing, but rather a banquet hall that Kraft had only seen in movies and TV shows, used by high society. Besides that, the large green spaces outside the ballroom were equipped with diving platforms and a swimming pool with lanes. There was even a horse stable behind it...

Kraft glanced at the student responsible for greeting them, who was explaining the venue to him. The arrogance and contempt in his eyes were completely unconcealed, and his tone was as if "you've never seen the world before." This made the three of them very unhappy, and even Francisco, who usually had a smile on his face, looked displeased.

In fact, previous exchange balls didn't use such extravagant venues. This ball, to put it bluntly, was an event for the descendants of so-called elites to expand their networks. However, whenever "commoners" like Kraft wanted to become new members, they would use similar methods to put the newcomers in their place. If they could be amused, adding an interesting follower was fine. If they found it uninteresting, they wouldn't send invitations next time.

Regarding this matter, the principal of Vantas had subtly mentioned it to Kraft and the others. At the time, Kraft hadn't paid much attention because the principal had said, "This is your first time attending, so you might feel a bit unaccustomed, and some people might even ostracize you."

Kraft had assumed that the so-called ostracism would be limited to being ignored or not spoken to, as they were "high society" and should have some manners.

He hadn't expected these people to be no different from street thugs.

Kraft silently lowered his gaze. He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place. Since they weren't welcome here, he had no interest in maintaining any superficial peace. Anyway, the principal hadn't insisted that they join them, only that they come and see the world.

It was indeed an eye-opener.

The student in charge of the introduction wanted to lead them further inside to "see more of the world," but Kraft had no interest in listening to his sarcastic remarks any longer. He turned around directly, separated from the group, and walked towards the banquet hall.

Even if he was leaving, he had to fill his stomach before he did... Kraft was a thrifty and good young man.

Long before Kraft and his companions arrived, people from other schools had already mostly gathered. After all, bullying newcomers was a rare activity for this group, so they had all arrived early, eager to watch the show. Seeing Kraft break away from the group and head towards the banquet hall caused a stir.

They were happy to see the "rebellion" of the newcomers. Echoes were too common in their daily lives; only by bullying tough guys like Kraft, who had dignity, could they feel a greater sense of accomplishment.

Inside the banquet hall, the leaders of several small groups exchanged glances. After a silent communication, one of the leaders, accompanied by his followers, stepped out from the crowd and walked towards Kraft.

"You're Kraft, aren't you?"

The leader tilted his head, mimicking his father's demeanor at banquets when speaking to others, and introduced himself to Kraft with a seemingly reserved air.

"My name is Slade, Slade Hammer. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Kraft took a sip of his juice, helping the pastry stuck in his throat go down, and curled his lip. "You're celebrating too early!"

Before the stunned Slade could react, Kraft continued his sarcastic remarks, "Your performance is worse than a third-rate actor on a trashy TV show. No matter how much you try to act elegant, you can't hide your low-class nouveau riche aura."

Of course, Kraft couldn't tell what "nouveau riche aura" was, but in his opinion, these people were all ostentatious rich folks, so calling them nouveau riche was bound to be correct. He didn't expect to hit the mark so precisely.

Slade Hammer's father was the president of Hammer Industries. As a newly emerged conglomerate in recent years, Hammer Industries was indeed considered nouveau riche by the older established ones. Otherwise, Slade wouldn't have stepped up to cause trouble for Kraft. The descendants of those old money families were currently sitting back and watching the show from a distance.

Slade's face twitched. He struggled to maintain the smile on his face and said through gritted teeth, "Jealousy is the original sin, classmate Kraft. I can understand the unease people like you, ordinary folks, feel when they see the refined life of the upper class. But there's no need, really, no need to resist so much. I'm simply here to make friends with you, and it has nothing to do with whether your family is wealthy or not."

As he spoke, Slade gradually regained his initial sense of superiority, gesturing and talking down to Kraft from a condescending position.

However, upon hearing Slade's words, Kraft burst out laughing. "As expected of a nouveau riche... Although the news was suppressed, the name Martin Lee shouldn't be unknown in your circles, right?"

After Martin Lee helped him sort out the procedures for the mechanical lock, Kraft had specifically looked into his adoptive father's financial strength. Only then did he discover that nearly 80% of the industries in New York's Chinatown were related to Martin, and Martin was the decision-maker for over half of those industries. Therefore, even in New York's financial circles, which were filled with the wealthy, Martin Lee held a significant position. The fact that this Slade didn't know about his own family's situation clearly indicated that his earlier accusation of being nouveau riche was a lucky guess.

Slade's expression changed drastically. Although Hammer Industries and Martin Lee's businesses didn't have much overlap, he had heard of that name.

He'd been tricked!

Slade, long accustomed to scheming, quickly reacted. He turned to look at the guys who had instigated him to step forward earlier. He saw them huddled together, talking in low voices. Sensing Slade's gaze, they all showed him a mocking smile. The others were also quietly laughing at his earlier actions.

Having lost face, Slade couldn't stay any longer. With a dark expression, he quietly apologized to Kraft and then left in embarrassment with his followers.

"Looks like someone used him as a pawn... What an idiot."

Kraft pursed his lips and continued to enjoy the food on the table. Setting aside the attitude of those scoundrels, the prepared food was quite delicious, and it shouldn't be wasted.

Yesterday, Zhongyuan suddenly became interested in the zipper on my collar. I didn't pay it any mind and let it gnaw on it in my arms as a plaything. But then, after chewing for a while, the darn cat suddenly jumped up and slapped me. I was watching a video at the time, and it scared the life out of me.