"Welcome to the Guardian Academy."
The woman on the podium surveyed the crowd of students below, her voice carrying across the vast hall. "There are two types of students in this facility. Those who earned their place through talent. And those who bought their way in through connections. We know which you are, but we'll keep that to ourselves."
A ripple of unease passed through the assembled first-years.
"Some of you might be enjoying your high ranking, even though you know damn well you don't deserve it. As I said—we know every single one of you. But we'll let the system decide your fate." Her smile was razor-thin. "In one month, there will be a tournament. This will be your reckoning. So prepare well. Your future depends entirely on the decisions you make, the choices you choose."
The hall fell silent as her words sank in.
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The blue-haired boy walked down the hallway with his head down, falling across his face, hiding ash-colored eyes that had seen too much.
"Hey."
He stopped, lifting his head slightly. A student sat casually on the stairs leading to the lower floor, flanked by several others. They all wore the same uniform—white shirt, oxblood blazer, white trousers. Most students ignored the sleeveless cardigan and tie, but these boys wore theirs with deliberate precision.
"Are you deaf? I said Come HERE."
The flanking students began moving toward him.
"What do you want?" The blue-haired boy didn't budge.
The leader's eyes widened in shock at the boldness. His lackeys didn't hesitate.
BAM!
The punch drove him to his knees.
"I can't believe it. How can you be this stupid? You see someone obviously stronger than you and you choose to be brave?!" Before he could recover, another punch flew toward his face.
BAM!
It should have sent him flying, but the blonde lackey was already there, grabbing him by the hair, forcing him to look directly into the leader's eyes.
"Um... boss." The raven-haired boy's voice was uncertain.
"What?"
"He's just a... Level 1." Disbelief colored his words, like he was fighting back laughter.
"Level 1?! Do such weak shits even exist?!" The orange-haired spectator burst out laughing.
"A LEVEL 1 ACTUALLY ACTS SO BOLD IN FRONT OF ME?! DO YOU NOT KNOW MY NAME?!" The leader jumped down from the railing. The others stepped aside, holding the blue-haired boy up by both shoulders, leaving him completely vulnerable.
The boy remained silent, gaze downcast.
"Tsk. Teach that imbecile who I am. And before that, take every single damn point he has on him." He turned back to his victim with a wicked grin. "I wanted to go easy on you low rankers today. I was in a good mood—would have only taken a hundred or two. But you just had to get on my nerves." His laugh was cold. "Trust me. I will make you regret ever stepping foot in this academy. I'll make your life miserable. That way, you can relate to your fellow bottom-feeders, and they'll learn to fear me."
He walked back to the railing with casual arrogance.
"Teach him a lesson."
All the lackeys smiled.
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"Ugh."
The blue-haired boy groaned as consciousness returned. The cold tiles pressed against his cheek—he'd been lying on the floor. Night had fallen while he was unconscious.
I missed curfew.
He sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. The hallway was empty now. No one had helped him. No one had even bothered to step over him. As long as it wasn't happening to them, they were fine with it.
"Hehe." A flat chuckle escaped his lips as he stared up at the ceiling.
This was how it worked here. Every man for himself.
[Now do you understand why you must merge with your blessing?]
The voice echoed in his mind.
I do, but it's still a no. I'm not trading my sanity for power.
The voice faded.
"I'll just rest some more, then leave before morning." He lay back down on the cold floor, closing his eyes against the reality of his situation.
But even as sleep took him, he knew this was only the beginning.