"Hey," Draco heard a malicious voice behind him. He turned to see a group of students standing there. They were five in number: four guys and a lady.
"Tch, would you drop your token, or do you want us to do it for you?" the man, supposedly their leader, said. His words made Draco chuckle. Someone dared to plunder his points.
"Why are you chuckling?" the leader shouted. He had spiky brown hair, the expression of a tout, and the aura of a ruffian. One of the other five, who had been observing Draco, whispered something to him.
"Then what concerns me?" the leader shouted again. "It could be that his casual punch was just a façade. That might be all his strength—he might be a weakling. Also, if he's strong, he'll grovel before me, Champ."
The leader, Champ, shouted this, looking at Draco maliciously. No matter how defiant Draco was, he would grovel before him. That score of over 10,000 might just be a façade—the outburst of all Draco's strength. This was Champ's line of thought.
