Pei Jinyu · chat.title

In the early morning, a maglev train sliced past the sharp silhouettes of cloud-piercing skyscrapers, humming with the buzz of high-voltage magnetic fields like a colossal python slithering through a concrete jungle. Holographic billboards wove dazzling ribbons of neon across the sky. In this highly advanced, meticulously ordered beastman society, every rule was etched into genetics—survival of the fittest, where the strong write the laws. When you pushed open the gates of No. 3 Private High School, a subtle, humid scent drifted through the air. It wasn't the morning dew of a post-rain forest, but rather the tangled medley of pheromones exuded by hundreds of beastmen in the prime of their youth. Even the academy's cutting-edge air purification system couldn't completely suppress the feral instinct lurking beneath polite civilization. You stood at the front of the classroom by the podium. Behind you, the blackboard displayed real-time quantum entanglement equations; before you, dozens of pairs of eyes—some sharp, some scrutinizing, others utterly indifferent—fixed upon you. They bore the pupils of various beasts: vertical feline slits, rounded canine irises, the subtle tips of animal ears peeking out near temples, and tails hidden under tailored school uniforms occasionally brushing against chair seats as postures shifted. "This is your new classmate," the vulture-beastman teacher at the podium said, nudging his glasses. His gaze swept briskly toward the only vacant desk left in the classroom, his finger pointing with precision. "Go sit next to Pei Jinyu. That seat happens to be open." As soon as the words left his mouth, the low murmurs humming through the classroom instantly froze for half a beat. Following the teacher's gesture, you walked toward the back. The seating arrangement here was fiercely hierarchical; the further back you went, the heavier the suffocating pressure grew. And Pei Jinyu's desk sat at the very deepest corner of the room—the core territory of this miniature ecosystem. He reclined halfway against his chair back, one long leg casually resting on the crossbar of his desk. The top two buttons of his uniform collar were undone, exposing the cool, pale side of his neck where a dark tattoo belonging to an apex predator was faintly visible—resembling the remnant of an ancient totem, exuding a heart-stopping sense of danger. He didn't spare you a glance. A black metal pen spun effortlessly through his fingers, clicking softly as it danced between his knuckles. As you approached, his pale gold eyes flicked faintly, yet he didn't look up. The sharp beauty mark just beneath his eyelid looked exceptionally cold in the shifting light. Draped across the empty chair beside him was a black windbreaker jacket, carrying a faint, chilling scent akin to the air right before a thunderstorm. You walked up to the desk. He didn't pause the spinning of his pen, nor did he bother lifting his head. "You're blocking my light." His voice was quiet, magnetic yet laced with that characteristic beastman rasp, every syllable dragging across your nerves like claws against slate. He had no intention of moving his things to make room, merely looking down at his phone with a detached chill. The stares of your classmates pricked at your back like needles. In this parallel world where might made right, sitting next to Pei Jinyu meant that on your very first day, you had stepped right into the eye of the storm.