After Mazumi Mami and his three maids successfully broke the initial silence, the atmosphere in the classroom completely came alive.
With someone having "taken the plunge" first, the introductions that followed unfolded naturally.
One student after another stepped up to the podium, introducing themselves, some briefly and others in more detail.
"My name is Kito Hayato. I don't have any particular interests..."
A boy with sharply defined features and a slightly fierce gaze finished in just a few words, then walked off the stage without hesitation, leaving behind an air that warned others to keep their distance.
"My name is Morishita Ai. That's all."
A girl with long, straight blue-purple hair and purple eyes spoke in a flat, emotionless tone, as if merely stating a fact that had nothing to do with her. Her introduction was just as brief—and just as memorable.
Mazumi Mami sat beneath the stage, seemingly relaxed, but his mind was working at top speed, like the most efficient intelligence-processing center.
Every name, every face, every expression during the introductions, every tone of voice, choice of words, and absent-minded gesture was carefully observed, categorized, and temporarily stored.
This was not only a basic skill for intelligence operatives, but also an instinctive exercise in reading people for a future ruler.
"Kito Hayato: fierce appearance, possibly skilled in physical activities or combat; straightforward personality, not fond of social niceties. Morishita Ai: reserved emotions, clear goals, values efficiency..."
He quickly sketched out his first impressions in his mind.
"Despite their wildly different personalities, they have one thing in common—all these students, whether they seem rash or cool and taciturn, have a confidence or sharpness deep in their eyes that belongs to the 'elite.' At the very least, they have a clear sense of themselves."
That made him even more curious about Class A's "makeup."
"Does a strict admissions process ensure the quality of the students? Or does the S System group people with similar 'potential' or 'traits' into Class A according to some kind of assessment when assigning classes?"
"Either way, this school—or the system running behind it—is far more complicated than it appears. Interesting."
Mazumi Mami thought in silence.
Just then, a boy of exceptionally tall, broad build and with a conspicuous shaved head stepped onto the podium.
His physique stood out among high school students, and the definition of his muscles remained visible beneath his well-fitting uniform.
"Shaved his head at this age... Is that a personal preference? Or the result of an illness or treatment?"
Mazumi Mami focused his attention on this unusual physical trait. It usually meant there was a story behind it.
The boy stopped and calmly surveyed the class. His voice was deep and powerful.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Katsuragi Kohei. I served as student council president from elementary school through middle school. My academic performance is decent, and my abilities are fairly well-rounded. My motto is to give everything my all and take it seriously. I look forward to spending the next three years with you."
His introduction was clear and organized, his tone sincere and steady. He didn't brag, yet naturally gave off the air of a dependable leader.
The composure forged over years of shouldering responsibility seemed almost to radiate from him.
"Oh?"
A glint of scrutiny passed through Mazumi Mami's eyes.
"Impressive record, steady presence. He really does fit the traditional 'model student' mold and has the potential to lead."
A thought crossed his mind unbidden: Could he be the 'Supreme Masterpiece'?
But he almost immediately dismissed the hasty conclusion.
"No, it's too early to decide. If this kind of outwardly 'excellent' bearing were enough to tell, then more than just him in this classroom would fit the bill."
His gaze covertly swept across the classroom again. "The 'masterpiece' the Imperial Intelligence Department sent me here to 'evaluate' ought to be more special. Maybe even... harder to spot."
"By rights, the best 'masterpiece' should be placed in the best class for observation and comparison. But then again, to avoid drawing attention, wouldn't it be more clever to put them in another, less conspicuous class?"
As his thoughts raced, a crisp, rhythmic set of footsteps interrupted them.
"Click... click... click..."
The sound came from the heels of a pair of small, dark-brown leather shoes tapping against the smooth floor. The rhythm was steady, unhurried.
Mazumi Mami looked toward the sound.
The first thing that caught his eye was a pair of slender feet and calves wrapped in pristine white over-the-knee stockings.
Delicate lace trimmed the tops of the stockings, which clung snugly to her skin, leaving a faint, inviting indentation above her ankles.
The stockings outlined her long, straight legs, while at just the right spots they revealed a girl's natural softness—a perfect balance of fullness and slenderness.
Her white pleated skirt swayed gently with each step. Between the hem and the tops of her stockings, a glimpse of bare skin like fine white jade gleamed with a healthy, soft luster in the indoor light.
Above that was a well-tailored uniform jacket, with a dark bow tied at her slender neck and elegant collarbones visible above the neckline.
Her fingers, gripping a metal telescoping cane, were covered by immaculate white silk gloves, making them seem all the more long and delicate.
Finally, there was her lovely yet somehow distant face.
Her shoulder-length silver-white hair was smooth and silky. A small beret sat atop her head, and beneath its brim was a pair of clear purple eyes, still and deep as a winter pool.
Her complexion was genuinely pale, lacking in color. Unlike the deliberately cultivated "sickly pallor" of Mazumi Mami, hers looked closer to the frailty caused by long-term poor health.
She walked steadily to the podium. Though she used a cane, her posture was impeccable, as if she had carefully calculated every step.
"My name is Sakayanagi Arisu."
Her voice was soft, yet carried with a strange clarity that reached everyone's ears.
"I don't have any particular hobbies. If I had to name one... I suppose it would be chess."
She turned and wrote her name on the blackboard.
Her handwriting was neat and elegant, just like the impression she gave: refined, fragile, yet with a hidden order to it.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but whether she was turning to write or facing the class, Mazumi Mami felt her purple eyes linger on him for an instant, intentionally or otherwise.
Her gaze was calm and unreadable, yet he instinctively grew more alert.
"What does that mean?"
He wondered to himself.
"Did she notice me? Is she curious about me, the 'sickly heir' who brought maids and volunteered to speak up? Or... is she probing for something deeper?"
The girl, of course, did not answer his question. After her brief introduction, she turned gracefully and walked down from the podium with her cane, her steps just as measured as before.
As she passed Mazumi Mami on her way back to her seat, her gaze shifted again, and their eyes briefly met.
It lasted only a moment.
Mazumi Mami didn't look away. He met her gaze openly.
Deep in those purple eyes, he seemed to catch the faintest, most elusive ripple, like a tiny pebble falling into a still lake—or perhaps it was only an illusion caused by the light.
Their gazes parted, and Sakayanagi Arisu calmly continued to her seat.
But Mazumi Mami was now certain that this silver-haired girl, who appeared frail and carried herself with such elegance, was nothing like she seemed.
Her seemingly casual glances and brief eye contact felt more like a silent test or confirmation.
"I should have Walnut look into Sakayanagi Arisu's records in detail."
He made the decision at once.
The Imperial Intelligence Department's database might contain her basic file, but it clearly wasn't enough.
There was something about this girl that made his instincts tell him to pay close attention.
At last, after everyone had finished introducing themselves, Mazumi Mami stood up again, leaning on his wooden cane. His steps were slow, but he walked purposefully back up to the podium.
"Thank you all for sharing."
He smiled and swept a warm gaze across the class.
"To make it easier for us to contact each other and communicate in the future, I've just created a class group chat."
He turned and wrote a string of numbers on the blackboard.
"Please join. After all, we're living in the information age. Any class announcements or activities, or anything you want to discuss privately about studying or daily life, can be handled in the group. Of course, we still need to follow school rules and make sure it doesn't interfere with our studies."
His suggestion was perfectly reasonable and came with the good intention of making things more convenient for everyone.
After the introductions and Mazumi Mami's initial move to break the ice, many students had already come to see him subconsciously as a reliable, proactive "organizer."
Seeing how thoughtful he was now only improved their impression of him.
Many of them immediately took out the smartphones issued by the school and started joining the group.
As students below him tapped away on their phones or quietly exchanged the group number, Mazumi Mami gave a slight nod to himself.
"Good. We've established an official and practical channel for keeping in touch. The initial hub for gathering information can often become a potential source of influence as well."
It was only a tiny step, but a journey of a thousand miles began with a single one.
Whether it was taking control of the situation, gathering information, or carrying out the "evaluation" task that might come in the future, a relatively close class network with him as its hidden core could prove useful in ways no one expected.
The first day in Class A passed quietly amid what seemed like ordinary introductions and the creation of a group chat.
Beneath the calm surface, undercurrents of observation, assessment, and probing had already begun to stir.