It was a typical Monday morning, except…
"Wow, that's so cool! You're gonna be a hero, Jeff!"
Another awakening had occurred. Jeffrey Heisenberg, the boy who sat beside me in class, was now the center of attention. Normally, this wouldn't bother me, but since he sat right next to me, I had no choice but to listen in on the commotion.
"What's it called, Jeff?"
Jeffrey folded his arms with a smug expression on his face as he revealed the name. "It's called the Flame Emperor System."
"Woah!" One boy's face lit up with excitement. "My brother had a friend who awakened with the Clone System!"
The entire Wart Junior Middle School was in an uproar. Students even poured out of other classrooms to catch a glimpse of Jeffrey as he bragged about his recent awakening.
What finally calmed them down was when the teacher strolled in. Everyone quieted instantly, and those who didn't belong returned to their classes without her having to say a word. Mrs. Francis always had that commanding aura about her.
"Good morning, class," she said once they settled. "Need I remind you that you need to be at your seats and ready for learning by the time I arrive?" She frowned, shaking her head.
She then picked up a stack of papers from her desk. "Jeffrey," her eyes turned sharply to him, "since you were the leader of this little farce, I'll have you hand these out."
With a heavy sigh, Jeffrey got up from his seat, collected the papers from Mrs. Francis, and began distributing them to the class.
"These are the permission slips for the recruitment drive we'll be having tomorrow. You'll need your parents' permission if we're going to attempt to force an awakening. There are some side effects to being exposed to mana."
Everyone visibly perked up at the mention of the recruitment drive. They had been hyping this up for weeks. For a moment, the class almost erupted into chaos as whispers and giggles spread.
Personally, it sounded like too much of a bother. System awakenings and all that never interested me. Plus, there was a chance you could get sick from it. No, not happening.
"Representatives from many different hero academies will also be there. They'll try to recruit as many awakened as possible."
Just then, Jeffrey handed me one of the permission slips. I promptly took it from him and stuffed it in my bag. That's when I felt Mrs. Francis's sharp glare on me, enough to draw the entire class's attention.
An awkward silence fell over the room. Immediately, more whispers began as everyone stared at me with amused expressions, eager to see what the weird kid had done this time.
"Liam," her voice was sharp as she said my name, "meet me in the staff room after school."
After that bizarre request, she continued explaining the recruitment drive as if nothing had happened until homeroom was over.
Nothing much happened in my other classes for the day; it was almost the end of the school year, after all.
As the bell rang, signaling the end of my final class, I packed my bag and headed for the school entrance. Just as I was about to exit the classroom, I felt a tug on my bag from behind. I turned around to see a shy-looking girl standing right behind me.
"Um, Mrs. Francis said to remind you to meet her in the staff room."
She didn't even bother to meet my gaze as she spoke. She stood so far away that anyone else couldn't tell we were having a conversation. After blurting out her message, she dashed off as if her house were on fire.
"This is such a bother."
With a heavy sigh, I pushed my intrinsic thoughts aside and willed myself to the staff room. Upon arriving, I saw Mrs. Francis seated at her desk. She spotted me standing at the door and invited me in.
From her facial expression, I could tell she wasn't thrilled about this either.
"Liam, have you given any thought to your future?"
My mind instinctively drifted to the simplest answer that would get me out of here the quickest. "Yes, ma'am, I have."
"Really?" She looked shocked and, frankly, a little annoyed. "Because your grades say otherwise. As things stand now, you have no chance of graduating with the others. You'll have to repeat a year, as no high school will be willing to accept a student with grades that imply they can barely read."
"Frankly put, you have no future to give thoughts to!"
Her words caught the attention of the other teachers, who looked at me with pity.
Screw all of them. If it's not one thing, it's another—my messy hair, my torn-up clothes, my frail appearance, the bruises on my body! Every day, they find something new to complain about.
"The only way I see you avoiding repeating the school year is if you successfully manage to awaken tomorrow. I suggest you unfold the crumpled permission slip I saw you stuff in your bag and actually give it to your parent."
Honestly, I don't know what's worse: going to that man for a signature or repeating the whole school year. Each option is its own kind of hell.
"That's all I wanted to talk to you about. I suggest you follow my advice. You may go now."
I gave a small bow just to be polite and then left.
As I exited the school, I heard the sound of what must have been a dozen helicopters, along with that loud, annoying siren that blared throughout the city whenever there was an emergency.
"Must have been another dungeon break."
As I walked home, I began to weigh my options: either I get that signature or I repeat the whole school year. I was between a rock and a hard place. Maybe I could forge it? No, they'd see through that.
Signature it is, then.
I really didn't want to deal with that man. My arm still hurt from the last time.
Feeling the discomfort in my hand, I rolled up my long-sleeved shirt. My arm was more swollen than before, the flesh discolored and taking on a purple hue.
That bastard definitely broke it.
It wasn't long before I arrived at the shitty apartment building and entered the shitty apartment, room 308. The room was dark, so I had to feel my way around to where I kept the candles, being extra careful not to trip over the mountains of beer bottles.
I managed to find the candles and lit them. Now it was time to go see my father about that signature.
I grabbed the key to his room and used it to open the door. Immediately, a pungent odor wafted out, causing me to gag, almost throwing up.
My gagging must have caught his attention, as he immediately started mumbling. Of course, I couldn't understand a word he was saying.
I walked over to him, lighting my way with the candle, and ripped off the duct tape covering his mouth.
"You little shit!" His voice was weak and forced. He tried to fight with whatever remaining strength he had, but he was securely tied down to the bed.
I took the moment to inspect his injuries—the stab wound I had given him in the stomach. It smelled worse as I lifted his shirt, almost as if he were rotting.
"It's infected, isn't it? If you don't get me to the hospital, I'm going to die!!"
His voice trembled, almost as if he were scared. I opened my bag and pulled out the crumpled permission slip.
"I need you to sign this, Dad."