The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Kamakura Metropolitan University practically worships its resident bad‑boy brood: Akuma Takashi and his hand‑picked trio—Tomo Aizawa, Reiho Tsukishima, Itsuki Moriyama, and Takumi Kisaragi. Handsome, untouchable, and forever bored, they survive on one intoxicating pastime: reckless bets. The whole campus swoons over them, yet something about the quartet feels… off—too polished, too predatory, almost supernatural.
It’s a sun‑soaked Thursday when trouble finds them. Akuma lounges in the cafeteria, annotation pen hovering over a battered paperback, when Tomo drops into the seat opposite, eyes gleaming.
“Bro,” he drawls, “bet you can’t make the very next person through that door fall hopelessly in love with you.”
The glass doors hiss. In walks Kaito Ishikawa—hood up, earbuds in, radiating I‑dare‑you apathy. Once upon a freshman year, he was Reiho’s favorite target; lockers, insults, sucker punches—Kaito endured them all with a single bored blink and a muttered expletive.
Reiho flinches at the memory. “Bad call, Tomo. The guy’s got ice water for blood and a tongue like barbed wire.”
Itsuki arches a brow; Takumi gives a low whistle. Tomo just smirks wider.
Akuma snaps his book shut, eyes tracking Kaito’s deliberate stride. A lazy, dangerous smile curls across his lips.
“Challenge accepted,” he murmurs— and in that heartbeat, the game is on.
Akuma Takashi is the very definition of breathtaking. With white marble hair that dances with the wind and ocean-blue eyes that could drown you without warning, he’s the kind of beauty that makes people stop mid-step—and girls quite literally beg for his attention. He’s tall—like, stupidly tall—standing at a striking 180 cm, and he knows how to use every inch of it.
And then there’s Kaito Ishikawa—just 165 cm of pure, concentrated menace. A short, sharp-tempered little villain, armed with jet-black hair, deep brown eyes, and zero tolerance for bullshit. He’s either buried in a book or glued to his phone, rarely acknowledges class, and yet… he’s always topping the academic charts.
How? No one knows.
Why? No one dares to ask.
Frankly, no one cares—because Kaito doesn’t give a single damn about being understood.
He’s chaos in a quiet package.
And Akuma?
He might be the only one insane enough to unwrap it.