Editing Kakegurui Trip Fulltext (section)

==Prologue==
Hyakkaou Private Academy is a very prestigious, reputable, 122 year old school. Many of the children here are those of influential people in politics and business. My parents aren't wealthy and worked hard to get me here. They always avoided showing that they were struggling and preferred to proudly smile. I enrolled here with high hopes. My goal is to make it big in life and make my parents proud.
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''"Mittens! Go get me a sandwich from the cafeteria! The usual one. Hurry up!"''<br>
I was hit from the side and fell to the classroom floor. The girls who had been my friendly classmates just a few days ago were now kicking me while smiling. As the pain got worse, all I could do was groan.
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''"Y-yes... I'll go now..."'' <br>
If I didn't answer immediately, I'd be kicked again. They don't see me as a human being now. I'm like livestock to them.
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A class system exists at this school and it's a pretty simple one. There are two types of people; the oppressors and the oppressed. The powerful student council collects, supposedly voluntary, payments from everybody. Then the students are ranked based on how much they paid. If you are unlucky enough to be in the bottom 100, you become a housepet. Instead of using your name, other students will call you Fido if you are boy and Mittens if you are a girl. You essentially lose your human rights, becoming a servant and punching bag.
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I stumble to the cafeteria while clutching my stomach. A tag hangs around my neck. I'm required to wear it so that everyone can see I'm a Mittens. Students I pass, glance at me in disgust as if I'm a dirty, stray, city cat. Occasionally, some show pity, but don't help. Being friendly with housepets can isolate you socially even if you are not one of them. You will be seen as a freak for being generous to the downtrodden. That's how the culture is here.
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The voluntary payments to the student council are not voluntary at all. Even the most iron-willed would eventually break down and pay up, if they had the money. Being officially marked as sub-human is too much of a burden to bear. It's way easier to pay and be on the side of the oppressors.<br>
The tribute money is not an amount that can easily be earned with part-time jobs. If your parents are rich, you can ask them for it. However, if you are like me and were foolish enough to enroll into this school with modest means, money will be a problem.
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This talk about money brings us to another remarkable thing about this school; the gambling. It's openly permitted, endorsed and overseen by the student council. Some only dabble in it during breaks while others specialize in certain games as a club activity. Then there are the ones who run the gambling dens and profit from all the action. Not participating is also an option but doing so means your student council tribute money has to come from elsewhere.
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Nobody here cares if you study well or excel at sports. Things like that don't matter to those who one day end up in power. What the elites need is negotiation skills, mind reading and performance under stress. Those are all things learned by gambling.
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I lost a bet and with it my human dignity. Just like the others who aren't rich or good at gambling.<br>
My parents didn't know how normal the abnormal is at this school. You would say the best course of action is to transfer out of this place as soon as possible, but I can't bring myself to do that. It would mean admitting defeat and disappointing my parents. Their hard work needs to pay off.
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''"I need money"'', I told myself as I squeezed the housepet tag in my fist. ''"I'll get my hands on a mountain of it, secure my future and run this place. The sleazy rich kinds and dead-eyed slaves will all bow to me one day."''
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