I Think That's Pretty Scientific

Chapter 6: 006: The High Society Ball

The buzz surrounding Kraft gradually died down over time, but its impact hasn’t completely faded. For example… “The All-New York High School Joint Exchange Dance?” Kraft furrowed his brow and asked in confusion, “What the hell is this?” The Black kid who’d brought the news—Michael, the same one who’d been discussing aesthetics with Fat Liao on the school bus earlier—shook his dreadlocks and began explaining to the classmates surrounding him at breakneck speed. It turned out that the so-called “All-New York Middle School Joint Exchange Dance” had been held many times before. Although it was nominally “All-New York,”there are dozens of middle schools in New York City, and aside from a few prestigious public schools, the rest are all private schools. A school like Fantas Public Middle School—unknown and with a student body predominantly made up of other ethnic groups—wasn’t even eligible to participate. If it weren’t for Kraft’s recent surge in popularity, which had brought some attention to his school, they wouldn’t have stood a chance of attending this year’s dance. Even so, the number of spots available for Fantas Public High School is extremely limited, and the school’s administration is currently gathering details about past proms to determine who will be selected to attend this year. But in any case, as the key factor in securing the invitation, Kraft is definitely a must-have. “Can I skip it?” Kraft pursed his lips. He wasn’t the kind of party animal commonly found in the United States, and he had absolutely no interest in proms or anything like that. Isn’t Tigerhead Pliers way more fun? Why waste time on something as boring as dancing? “No way, Kraft. Everyone else can make excuses to get out of it, but you absolutely can’t be left out. You’ve got to remember—you’re the main reason our school even got invited. The school won’t let you skip this for anything.” Michael replied, bobbing his head back and forth. In truth, Kraft understood this logic too; he was just grumbling for the sake of it. Although Kraft was extremely reluctant, when the principal of Fantas High School approached him and gave him a solemn, heartfelt pep talk, he had no choice but to hold his nose and accept the assignment—to serve as the school’s team leader and take two other students to that ridiculous “All-New York High School Joint Exchange Dance.” That’s right—although Fantas Middle School had received an invitation, there were only a measly three spots, and one of them was reserved for Kraft—no substitutes allowed. The day of the dance arrived quickly. Kraft slipped into a little suit that made him feel incredibly awkward and used hair wax to style his perpetually messy hair into a grown-up look. Martin Lee stood in front of Kraft, adjusted his collar, then placed both hands on his shoulders and surveyed his appearance with satisfaction: “Not bad—you’re a handsome young man.” Then he escorted Kraft out the door and handed him over to the other two students waiting outside. “I’m counting on you two to look after Kraft. He’s still quite young, so please take good care of him.” “Don’t worry, Mr. Lee.” Francisco was the oldest of the three—a twelfth-grade Latino student and president of the student council at Fantas High School. He was quite skilled at socializing. Kraft was only the nominal team leader; in reality, the school had entrusted Francisco with the main communication duties. The principal had already briefed Kraft on all these matters, so all he really had to do was show up, eat, and drink. Another spot went to a tenth-grade Asian-American senior. She wasn’t a school celebrity and was quite ordinary in every respect; the sole reason she was selected was simply because her father was a member of the school board—and a fairly influential one at that. “Hello, I’m Amy. Nice to meet you.” The senior bowed at a ninety-degree angle as she introduced herself. “Are you Japanese?” Seeing Amy’s gesture, Kraft instinctively began speaking to her in Japanese. “Hi! My mother is Japanese. Your Japanese is really good, Li!” Amy covered her mouth and replied in surprised Japanese with a strange accent. “Um… let’s just speak English…” Kraft broke out in a cold sweat; this girl’s stilted Japanese wasn’t even as standard as his own, and it sounded incredibly awkward. “Kraft really is amazing—not only has he invented so many interesting things, but his Japanese is so good too!” The smooth-talking Francisco seized the opportunity to shower him with praise. “Heh, it’s nothing special.” Having mastered multiple languages through his dreams without ever having to put in any effort, Kraft raised his hand somewhat sheepishly, instinctively reaching to scratch his head. Only after touching his stiff, unyielding hair did he remember he’d had his hair styled that day, and he sheepishly let his arm drop. The three of them got into the car the school had specially arranged for them and drove to the ball’s venue—a dedicated event campus belonging to a private high school with astronomical tuition fees… Just hearing the prefix of that campus makes it clear why the school’s tuition is so high. A fairly pleasant conversation helped Kraft and his two friends pass the time during the drive. “It’s really… over the top…” Upon arriving at their destination, Kraft smacked his lips as he looked at the so-called “dedicated party campus” before him, filled with a mix of envy, jealousy, and resentment. Since it was a dance, there was naturally a ballroom—not the kind of dance club where people go to party, but the kind of high-society banquet hall Kraft had only ever seen in movies and TV shows. In addition, outside the ballroom lay vast green spaces, a swimming pool equipped with diving boards and a diving lane, and even a horse ranch in the back… Kraft shot a glance at the student in charge of hosting them, who was giving him a tour of the place. The arrogance and contempt in the student’s eyes were completely unmasked, and his tone during the tour carried an air of “you people haven’t seen the world yet,” which really annoyed Kraft and his two companions—even Francisco, who was usually all smiles, had his face fall. In reality, previous social dances hadn’t used such extravagant venues. to put it bluntly, this ball was simply an event for the offspring of so-called “high society” to expand their social networks. However, whenever “outcasts” like Kraft and his group sought to become new members, the organizers would resort to such tactics to intimidate them from the start. If they could amuse the hosts, then adding an entertaining sidekick wouldn’t be a problem; if they found them uninteresting, they simply wouldn’t extend an invitation next time. Regarding this matter, the principal of Fantas had actually hinted at it to Kraft and his friends. At the time, Kraft hadn’t paid it much mind, because the principal had said, “Since this is your first time attending, you might feel a bit out of place, and you might even face some hostility from certain people.” Kraft assumed that this so-called rejection would amount to nothing more than being ignored or not spoken to—after all, this was “high society,” so they were expected to show some decorum. He never expected this bunch to be no different from street thugs. Kraft silently lowered his gaze. He hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place, and since they weren’t welcome here, he naturally had no interest in maintaining any semblance of peace. After all, the principal hadn’t said they had to join them; he’d only said to come and see what the world was like. It certainly was an eye-opener. The student in charge of the tour wanted to lead them further inside to continue “seeing the sights,” but Kraft had no interest in listening to his snide remarks any longer. He simply turned around, broke away from the group, and headed toward the banquet hall. Even if he was leaving, he had to fill his stomach first… Kraft was, after all, a hardworking and thrifty young man. Long before Kraft and his group arrived, students from other schools had already gathered in full force. After all, picking on the newbies was a rare treat for this crowd, so they’d all shown up early to watch the show. When they saw Kraft break away from the group and head toward the banquet hall, a commotion immediately broke out. They were only too happy to see the newcomers “rebel”—yes-men were all too common in their daily lives, and only by bullying a dignified, unyielding figure like Kraft could they feel a greater sense of accomplishment. Inside the banquet hall, the leaders of several small groups exchanged glances. After a brief, silent exchange, one of the leaders, accompanied by a few of his henchmen, stepped out of the crowd and walked toward Kraft. “You must be Kraft, right?” The leader tilted his head slightly, mimicking the way his father would converse with people at parties, and introduced himself to Kraft with feigned reserve. “My name is Slade—Slade Hammer. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Kraft took a sip of juice to help wash down the pastry stuck in his throat, then curled his lip. “You’re getting ahead of yourself!” Then, before a stunned Slade could recover, Kraft continued sarcastically, “Your performance isn’t even as good as a third-rate actor on trash TV. No matter how much you try to act elegant, you can’t hide that tacky nouveau riche vibe.” Of course, Kraft couldn’t possibly have spotted any “nouveau riche” air about him, but in his view, since this whole crowd was a bunch of snobs anyway, calling them “nouveau riche” was bound to hit the mark—though he hadn’t expected to hit the nail on the head. Slade Hammer’s father was the CEO of Hammer Industries. As a conglomerate that had risen to prominence in recent years, Hammer Industries was indeed viewed as a “nouveau riche” by the established financial dynasties—otherwise, Slade wouldn’t have stepped forward to pick a fight with Kraft. The heirs of those old financial dynasties, on the other hand, were all sitting back comfortably, watching the spectacle unfold from a distance. Slade’s face twitched as he struggled to maintain his smile. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Envy is a cardinal sin, Mr. Kraft. I can understand the unease ordinary people like you feel when you see the refined lifestyle of high society, but there’s no need—really, no need—to resist it so fiercely. I’m simply here to make friends with you; it has nothing to do with whether your family is wealthy or not.” As he spoke, Slade gradually regained his initial air of superiority and began gesturing at Kraft with a condescending demeanor. However, upon hearing Slade’s words, Kraft burst out laughing: “You really are a nouveau riche… Even though the news reports were suppressed, the name Martin Lee surely isn’t unknown in your circles, is it?” After Martin Lee stepped in to help him sort out the paperwork for the combination lock, Kraft took the time to look into his adoptive father’s financial standing. He then discovered that nearly eighty percent of the businesses in New York’s Chinatown were connected to Martin,and more than half of those businesses were under Martin’s control. As a result, even in New York’s financial circles—where the wealthy abound—Martin Lee held a prominent position. The fact that this Slade was unaware of his own family’s circumstances clearly meant that his earlier remark about a “nouveau riche” had, by a stroke of luck, hit the mark. Upon hearing this, Slade’s face turned pale. Although Hammer Industries didn’t have much overlap with Martin Lee’s businesses, he had still heard that name before. He’d been set up! Slade, long accustomed to political intrigue, quickly caught on. He turned to look at the few guys who had egged him on earlier; they were now huddled together, whispering among themselves. Sensing Slade’s gaze, they all flashed him a mocking grin in unison, while the others whispered derisively about his recent outburst. Having lost face completely, Slade couldn’t stay any longer. With a grim expression, he whispered an apology to Kraft, then made a hasty and humiliating exit with his henchmen. “Looks like he was used as a pawn… what an idiot.” Kraft pursed his lips and went back to savoring the food on the table. Setting aside the attitude of this bunch of bastards, the food they’d prepared was actually quite delicious—he wasn’t about to waste it. Yesterday, Zhongyuan suddenly took an interest in the zipper on my collar. I didn’t think much of it and let him curl up in my lap to chew on it for fun. But halfway through, that damn cat suddenly jumped up and slapped me in the face. I was watching a video at the time—it scared the hell out of me.