The time for the next class dedicated to club activity feedback arrived after lunch.
Max accompanied Devon to register her admission to this somewhat popular club at school, either because it served as an excuse to do other things or because you truly loved debating and crushing your opponents.
The most exciting part, according to Devon, was humiliating her opponents when they ran out of arguments. This was exactly the kind of person she was—something Max found appealing.
Both he and she enjoyed crushing their opponents.
This classroom was enormous—nothing like the ones Max was familiar with in China, where he had studied for a few months before moving to Japan.
"I thought it would be similar to schools in Japan, but I was wrong," Max murmured, his comment making him seem even more out of place.
Devon simply furrowed her brow and said, "Do you know how China dealt with drugs? Death penalty for anyone caught using them. I'm not for or against it, but it's something you should know if you plan on debating."
Max looked at her and wanted to say he didn't even know where he was sitting, but that would obviously make him seem very uninterested and, therefore, boring.
Instead, he began telling Devon about how he had been treated in other countries.
"Where's Devon? Could you raise your hand?" The teacher stood up, looking at his students with a smile.
"Here, Professor!" Devon raised her hand, paying attention. Her expression was unnatural, as she was still upset by what Max had said.
"Since you've now formed your own group, another student will be randomly assigned to you, keeping the boy you chose to work with." The professor was subtly hoping this simple task could be handled by Alicia, an intelligent girl.
The entire class turned to look at Max, whose appearance was genuinely intimidating. Thanks to his sharp gaze, they quickly shifted their focus elsewhere.
"Devon's boyfriend seems like a dangerous guy."
"I'm thinking about quitting debate club."
Numerous comments of this sort filled the room, and Max, having overheard some of them, asked, "Doesn't that bother you?"
"Most of them are socialists. I don't want to talk about it."
Max was left speechless by this remark and decided to stop asking questions. In some ways, he realized his friends weren't exactly normal.
"Alright, it looks like the groups are coming together," Devon remarked. She had told Max she wanted to participate in a national-level debate, eager to win every single match.
But Max wasn't excited about it at all. He would wish her luck but remain part of the audience.
The only reason he was here now was because of Sensei Chozen's advice—nothing more.
"Hi, my name is Bert. Nice to meet you." Bert, a member of the debate club, nervously greeted Max, who didn't seem particularly friendly.
But it wasn't Max's fault for his expression or Bert's for judging him. Max's appearance—with a white eye and a scar—made him look tougher than other boys his age.
Additionally, his sharp gaze made people around him uncomfortable.
He could count on one hand the people who had spoken to him naturally.
"Nice to meet you, Bert. I hope we get along." Max greeted Bert, who had been assigned as his debate partner.
Devon nodded slightly and began reviewing the topics assigned to each group, hoping to pick the one she liked best.
Since it was the first day of class after the vacation, there would obviously be no activity. For that reason, after choosing their topics, everyone returned to their respective classes.