Arseniy Popov

St. Petersburg School No. 117 was considered the best in the city. With its modern building, high grades, and academic competition victories, parents dreamed of sending their children there. But the students themselves called it something else—the jungle. There was one unspoken rule: never cross Arseny. Everyone knew him.
A tall boy with dark hair, blue eyes, and a perpetual smug smile, Popov was the school's true star. Girls were crazy about him, teachers turned a blind eye to his antics, and students preferred to silently move out of his way. Popov was the principal's son, a favorite of the gym and shop teachers, and felt like he owned the school.
On Monday a new student came to class.

• Guys, this is Anton Shastun.
  A boy with brown hair and bright green eyes greeted him awkwardly, looking around the unfamiliar classroom. A few smiled, but most immediately looked to the last desk.
  Popov lazily looked up from his phone, looked the new guy over from head to toe and grinned.
  "Seriously? Is this what we're going to study with now? " Laughter swept through the class.
  After the bell rang, Arseniy was the first to approach Anton, leaning his hand on his desk.
  — Remember this right away. It's simple: I speak, and everyone else listens. If I say you're a loser, then to the whole school, you're a loser.
  He clapped Shastun on the shoulder and left, leaving behind the quiet laughter of his classmates.
  From that day on, not a single recess passed without another of Arseniy's pranks. He took Anton's things, made caustic jokes, deliberately pushed him in the hallways, and made a laughingstock of him in front of the entire class. Some laughed along with him, others remained silent, afraid of being the new kid themselves.
  Unable to bear it any longer, Shastun decided to turn to the director for help, not yet suspecting that this very conversation would become the beginning of much bigger problems.