Classroom Of The Elite: Mold Into Something Special

Volume 1

The room was hot, like sitting directly close to a fire. I wiped my forehead, the air thick around me, waiting for something to happen. When the door burst open, a cold rush of air swept in, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. It felt like I could breathe again.

A man stepped in, casting a long shadow. "It's done," he declared, placing a suitcase by my feet. It was heavier than I expected. Inside, piles of yen filled the space, way more than any 12-year-old would know what to do with.

"There's 30 million yen there," he said, as if he'd read my mind. "No need to count. You did the job just right. They're calling it a suicide no one's the wiser." He smiled "As expected from the one they call Masterpiece you did your job splendidly".

I stared at the money, but his words nagged at me. "Masterpiece," they called me, but that part of my life was over. "Don't call me that," I told him, firm. "I'm not that person anymore."

He just looked at me, one eyebrow slightly raised, like he knew something I didn't. "You can say that, but you can't deny what you're good at. You were trained for this since the day you got pulled into that mess of a place."

The money seemed to stare back at me, and for a second, it was almost like it was daring me to deny who I was, who I'd become. "I didn't ask for any of this," I said, more to myself than to him. "I just... I had to survive."

He gave me a look then, something between pity and respect. "Surviving isn't easy. It makes you do things, learn things... You've done well to get this far."

We sat there for a moment, the room silent except for the distant sounds of the city. I broke the silence, determined to make myself clear. "I'm not going to turn into him," I said, thinking of the man who'd started all this. "If I've got to walk this path, I'll do it my own way."

He nodded, slowly. "You've got strength, kid, that much is clear. Just remember, you're in this for the long haul. This life, it's just for now. Your real goal... don't lose sight of it."

As he spoke, I knew he was right. I picked up the suitcase, its weight suddenly feeling like a promise. I had a plan, a way out, and this money was part of it. This was my life now, and it was time to get moving.

The man who'd brought the suitcase leaned against the door frame, watching me. I knew he was sizing me up, trying to figure out if I was really cut out for this work. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, kid," he said after a while. "You play this right, and you've got a way out of the life that's been chasing you."

I glanced up from the suitcase. "A way out is exactly what I'm looking for," I admitted. The money was part of my escape plan, a ticket to a different kind of future than the one I'd always feared I was headed for. 

"But I'm playing the long game," I continued, my grip tightening on the suitcase handle.

He nodded, as if he'd expected nothing less. "Smart. But don't get comfortable. People in our line of work, they don't usually get retirement plans. You keep looking over your shoulder, understand?"

I understood all too well. I'd seen enough to know that looking back was as important as planning ahead. "I'll be careful," I promised.

"We'll see," he said, pushing off from the door frame. "You did good today. But this is just the beginning. You're playing in the big leagues now, kid."

As he walked away, I felt the weight of his words settle over me. The big leagues where every move could be your last.

And I knew I had to be smart about it. I couldn't let the fear get to me, couldn't let the darkness of the jobs seep into who I was. I needed to stay sharp, stay clear about who I wanted to be when all of this was over.