The final cue from the ceremony leader signaled the end of the formal event.
The previously tense and rigid atmosphere quickly shifted into liveliness.
Students dispersed—some heading to the auditorium, others toward the small practice field, and many just looking for shaded spots to sit.
The typical school buzz had returned.
Hazandeen's principal stepped forward and directed his attention to the guest delegation from Makazhar Elite School.
Wearing a practiced smile, he approached the Makazhar principal and greeted him warmly.
"Please, follow me to the main lounge. We've prepared some light refreshments there."
The Makazhar principal—a bespectacled man radiating high academic authority—gave a small nod. Behind him, several teachers and students from Makazhar, including David, followed in calm, orderly steps.
The group was escorted from the field to Hazandeen's VIP Lounge—a sleek and elegant room on the western wing of the school, usually reserved for high-level visitors or formal occasions.
Meanwhile, Hazandeen students who were part of the School Festival were instructed to remain on the field.
Event staff scrambled around, pinning up name lists on temporary bulletin boards.
Advising teachers huddled in discussions, double-checking forms and participant data.
The atmosphere was like a marketplace—noisy, hot, but filled with spirited energy.
Al didn't move right away.
He was still sitting beneath the large banyan tree, staring at the blue sky now veiled by thin clouds.
Rina, who had been sitting nearby, stood up and stretched her arms.
"Al… aren't you going to the auditorium?"
Al shrugged. "Auditorium?"
Rina rolled her eyes and tossed a small towel at his head.
"At least don't sit there like a depressed statue. We're supposed to be Hazandeen's champions—defending our school's pride against Makazhar Elite School!"
Al touched the towel. Soft. Soap-scented. Still warm—Rina must've brought it from the locker room.
"Thanks, but I'm kinda lazy today. I'd better stay out of it... besides, what could I even do? I'm just a regular student here. Huaaammm." He ended his words with a yawn.
Rina turned to him sharply. "Eh? I thought that rumor was just a joke from the afternoon class students. Turns out it's real, huh."
"What rumor?" Al asked, slightly curious.
"The gossip about you. They say you're lazy, always sleeping, a total weirdo, and—" Rina said casually, but her words were cut off.
"Stop!" Al raised his hand, signaling her to halt. "You don't need to continue. The more you talk, the more ridiculous those rumors are going to get."
"Hahaha. True. And now that I see you myself, those rumors are apparently facts," Rina said, laughing.
"Tch... if anything, I think you're the weird one here," Al replied while stretching lazily in his seat—more small talk than argument.
"Huh? How come I'm the weird one?" Rina asked, slightly annoyed.
"You went through the school's academic database just to find my contact, and even asked my classmates about me. You went that far to know who I am. Isn't that weird? Or... could it be you're interested in me?" Al said lazily, his tone teasing.
Rina scoffed, her expression souring as she snapped,
"Who would ever be interested in you?!"
Al simply smiled and didn't say much. Just...
"Who knows? Hehe." he said, his eyes wandered, searching for an empty corner where he could take his morning nap.
"Whatever. The point is—you have to join. Maybe you'll win the poetry contest or something," Rina said, trying to wrap up the conversation.
Al stood up and lazily brushed his hair back.
"If there's ever a contest for the longest nap, let me know. I'm sure I could win that one."
With that, he walked away, leaving Rina standing there, staring in disbelief.
---
Inside the VIP Lounge, the two principals sat on leather chairs with a long table between them.
David sat at the far end, silent, simply observing.
There was also Idham, representing Hazandeen in welcoming the guests. His sharp eyes locked onto David, a faint spark of rivalry glimmering between them.
Besides your family, what do you even have to rely on, David?
Hmph... Look who's standing higher now. You're only in the second-best school, while I... I'm the top student of the best one. He smirked inwardly, silently comparing their status.
But unfortunately for him, David didn't even acknowledge his presence. He didn't glance his way, not even once—as if Idham were nothing more than a buzzing fly before him.
Tchhh... look at him. What, is he too scared to even look me in the eye? Hahaha. Relax for now, David. Once the competition begins, you'll see who the real main character is. Idham thought to himself.
He crossed his arms and exhaling sharply, trying to display an air of elegant dominance.
That soft scoff, however, caught a bit of David's attention. He turned slightly—just enough to glance at Idham—and offered a calm, warm smile.
That alone made Idham flinch inwardly. David's expression was far too composed for what Idham considered a brewing rivalry.
Then, almost imperceptibly, David's smile shifted—his eyes sharpening, arrogance seeping through the corners of his lips. That faint, crooked smirk cut right through Idham's composure, irritating him to the core.
Without another gesture, David let out a quiet, mocking chuckle—too low for anyone else to hear, but clear enough for Idham to feel its sting.
This brat... is he mocking me?! Idham cursed inwardly.
Still, neither of them made any overt reaction. They both masked the tension beneath a facade of civility, maintaining the image of 'elite students' in what outwardly looked like a friendly, dignified atmosphere.
Hazandeen's principal initiated the conversation with a friendly tone.
"We're truly honored to host Makazhar Elite School here at Hazandeen."
The Makazhar principal smiled.
"We're pleased as well. Though our schools often compete... this collaboration is a golden opportunity for both student bodies."
"Of course," the Hazandeen principal nodded, "and I believe… our students will give each other an unforgettable experience."
David smiled faintly, hiding disbelief and a darker intent beneath that calm exterior.
Unforgettable experience, huh?
I'll make sure of it, he thought.
---
Back outside, the organizers began calling out names for team assembly.
A teacher stood on a bench and shouted:
"Students who registered or were nominated for the School Festival team, please gather! The preliminary roster is being posted now!"
Al simply walked past the crowd gathered around the announcement board.
He yawned wide, glancing lazily at the list of participants for the School Festival event from afar. He already knew—his name wouldn't be there. And sure enough, it wasn't.
What for? He wasn't active in any club, not popular, had no reputation, and didn't have any kind of talent show to sell.
Everything about him screamed average—just a normal student with ordinary grades and skills.
The only thing that made him 'less' than others was his orphanage status.
A label that was nearly impossible to alter, since it had already been officially recorded in the Ministry of Child Protection's database, which indirectly kept track of him.
Other than that, he was just a regular student—known mostly for his laziness and habit of sleeping anywhere. Not a bad reputation, but nothing to be proud of either. Purely average.
All of this stemmed from his social mission — to understand how someone like him, a so-called cursed one, could find a place in society.
This time, it was the elite society — far above the lower and middle classes he had once blended into in the past years.
He was cautious. Placing himself too high would only invite unnecessary conflict. But staying too low-key would make the arrogant elites look down on him.
With his orphanage background that he couldn't possibly hide, blending in as an average student was the most practical solution.
It allowed him to approach both the superior and the inferior, while avoiding excessive attention — and unnecessary trouble.
"Better head to an empty classroom. Cool, quiet, peaceful. Sleep. At least I've paid off that so-called debt of gratitude by coming early," he muttered as he turned away.
He turned and started walking lazily toward the west building.
But before he reached the stairs—
Fast footsteps approached from behind.
Rina rushed up, panting with a nervous look on her face.
"Al! Hey! You… you have to see this!"
Al frowned. "Now what…"
"Your name is on the list," she said, pointing toward the board.
Al froze. Blinked a few times.
"…Huh?"
Rina exhaled sharply. "And the crazier part… you're on the martial arts team. With me and… Jogo."
Al's world crumbled in an instant.
"Wait… no… this has to be a mistake… You must be kidding, right?"
His face drained of all hope. His head dropped, like a farmer realizing his crops had failed.
Just earlier, he had imagined a peaceful afternoon nap with nothing but wind to hug.
Now? Martial arts? With Jogo and Rina?!
"I'm just a kind rich kid, and now I'm being asked to join a competition to beat people up. Wow," Al muttered in disbelief.
Rina bit her lip, confused. "You... you don't know any martial arts?"
Al only shrugged. "Me? Actually... I do. But it's exactly because I'm too good that I'd better not join."
Rina took it as another joke and frowned a little.
"Al, I'm being serious here. Stop joking around." She paused, tone uncertain. "But wait... how did your name even get in there? Don't tell me... Jogo?"
They immediately went looking for Jogo—and found him near the practice field, surrounded by a few students doing warm-ups.
Jogo saw them approaching and gave a crooked smile—like he'd been waiting for this.
"What's up?"
Rina jumped in.
"Why did you put Al on the martial arts team?! He's not even in the club! He doesn't even—"
"Because he's a senior," Jogo cut in casually. "And since he's close with you, I figured it'd be efficient to place him on your team. Communication matters, y'know."
Al just stared at Jogo with a lifeless, drained expression.
"But Al can't fight!" Rina protested. "He's never even trained!"
Jogo chuckled lightly.
"Well, he can learn. Everyone starts from zero, right?"
Then he whispered—quiet but sharp,
"Besides… I want to see what this 'special boy' looks like in the ring."
Rina was about to argue again, but—
"The teacher already approved the roster," Jogo said, pointing at the board.
"You can protest, but it won't change anything. And besides… all seniors are required to participate. It's school policy. This is our last year here—what's wrong with giving a little back to the school?"
Rina fell silent, unable to argue further. Her face still anxious.
Al stood beside her like a sandbag — quiet, yet slightly annoyed for having to take part in what he considered a childish game, one that held little importance to his real mission.
"Can't they just remove my name?" Al finally asked.
"Of course not. It's already been submitted to the committee. We're just waiting for the official announcement now. Anyway, why would you want it removed? Don't tell me you're scared? Hehe." Jogo sneered.
That slight mockery was enough to annoy Al, and he ended up agreeing — a decision made out of nothing more than sheer laziness to argue over something so trivial.
In the end, Jogo's reasoning was hard to refute, and the guy looked way too persistent. If Al kept arguing, it would only turn into some pointless drama and waste his time.
So he thought it'd be better to just go along with it — and use the remaining time for a quick nap before he had to 'bully' those elite kids in the ring.
"Fine then... I'll join. But don't blame me if someone passes out in the first ten seconds."
His tone carried a warning—suggesting that his opponents might end up trembling in fear before him.
But Jogo completely misunderstood.
He let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Relax. Ten seconds is way too long for you," he said, thinking Al meant he would be the one fainting.
In his mind, Jogo could already picture Al being crushed—both mentally and physically—by a fighter from Makazhar Elite School. He was going to enjoy every second of it.
But what Jogo didn't know... was who the real predator actually was.
---
On the far side of Hazandeen International High School—where the School Festival spirit echoed through the air—David Virellano stepped into one of the vacant classrooms, his gaze scanning with a mix of curiosity and disdain.
The school interior was modern. Futuristic minimalist design, automated lighting, and smart-glass windows.
David's eyes wandered for a moment, before a faint smirk crept across his lips.
"This place... is far too comfortable for a charity case like that."
Soon, a group of students entered and bowed respectfully.
"Welcome, Young Master David."
Among them, one student didn't bow.
Instead, he slung an arm casually around David's shoulder.
"Still arrogant as ever, huh?"
The voice belonged to Rudi Norvalien—heir of the Norvalien family, one of the wealthiest in Eastern Indorosia. Still below the Virellanos in power, but wealthy enough to have seats at the table.
David chuckled and gave his longtime friend a pat on the back.
"If I weren't, you might start thinking we're equals."
They both laughed—short, sharp—until their eyes locked and a moment of silence fell.
---
Flashback – 2.5 Years Ago
At the time, Hazandeen International High School was crumbling—a fallen star.
Scandal after scandal plagued its name: embezzlement, wild nepotism, poor management... its reputation was a shadow of what it once was.
This school, which was managed by the Tamarvich family had almost dragged the entire Tamarvich bloodline into total ruin—
the scandal was simply too massive to cover up, even with an ocean of money.
Meanwhile, Makazhar Elite School (MES) was on the rise. Fully funded by the Virellano family, its facilities oozed wealth and influence. The children of powerful lineages—including David and Rudi—attended proudly.
"Hazandeen's just waiting to be padlocked," Rudi once scoffed.
But just when everyone thought HIHS was doomed, Alasia Group stepped in.
With one sweeping acquisition, the school was not only saved—it was rebuilt. A new system. Professional management. A river of funding.
As part of the partnership, Idham Tamarvich—heir to the Tamarvich family—was assigned to oversee the school. A move that had once been mocked.
"Poor Idham, stuck at a dying school," Rudi had said, laughing.
But Idham stayed. And led. Alongside a new generation of students…
And one unknown boy from an unexpected background: a scholarship student no one paid attention to.
His name? Al.
One year passed. Hazandeen rose from the ashes.
Eventually… it surpassed Makazhar as the top school in Eastern Indorosia.
Rudi was stunned.
"This is unacceptable," he muttered.
Wanting only the best, he transferred to Hazandeen—despite getting a cold reception from Idham.
But David?
He could only clench his teeth.
"My family funds Makazhar Elite School. I have to stay…"
From that day on, discomfort took root in his heart.
Rudi, who had always lived under David's shadow, felt a hint of satisfaction knowing he could still attend the top school while David had to stay at MES.
But that feeling didn't last long—until he learned that a so-called orphan had somehow made it into HIHS.
Rudi, who had always looked down on the lower class, immediately despised Al from the very first day he transferred to HIHS.
He found out that this elite school wasn't exclusively filled with children of the upper crust; a handful of middle-to-lower-class students were accepted too—some even from orphanages, lucky enough to earn scholarships.
"In a school this elite, there are country flies buzzing around freely."
With his smooth maneuvering inside the school—and ruthless methods outside it—Rudi and his group had driven almost all of those scholarship students to quit.
The public, of course, never knew what really happened.
In fact, the public barely even realized that non-elite students had once been part of HIHS at all.
But one person still remained.
A person who, for the past one and a half years, Rudi couldn't lay a single finger on—neither inside the school nor outside it.
That person was Al.
---
Back to the Present
Inside an air-conditioned room—quiet, secluded, far away from the outside commotion—David Virellano leaned back casually in a Hazandeen School chair.
The chair itself was luxurious, yet it still looked far too modest for someone of noble blood like him.
Opposite him, Rudi leaned against the desk, watching David with curious eyes.
"So, what does the Young Master of Virellano want at the number-one school in the region?" Rudi asked, twirling a pencil mockingly.
David offered a sly smile. His eyes were sharp, though his voice remained casual.
"Tch… I need information. On someone."
"Who?"
David tilted his head slightly and said the name without emotion:
"A student named Al."
Rudi narrowed his eyes.
"Al? You mean… the scholarship kid?"
David didn't answer immediately. He glanced at Rudi, then looked away again.
"Is there another Al in this school?"
Rudi shrugged.
"Well… I don't know many people here. But I'd say there's only one fly named Al."
He pulled out his phone and showed David a distant photo—grainy and likely taken without permission. A typical bully's collection.
David examined it and gave a slow nod.
"That's him."
"What's your business with this kid?" Rudi asked, curious.
David simply smiled, letting the silence swallow the question.
"Tell me about him."
Rudi exhaled and began.
"His name's Al. Entered through a special orphan scholarship. He's a nobody here. Not in any clubs, average grades, barely known."
David listened as his smile slowly twisted into a satisfied grin.
"So just a lucky orphan… huh."
He let out a small laugh. "How fortunate."
Then he stood, stretched, and walked toward the door.
"Oii. You're leaving already? Why does it feel like we're just your intel lackeys or something?!" Rudi grumbled with a hint of protest.
But David didn't respond. He simply waved his hand lightly—
a gesture that said 'stop whining.'
Before leaving, he looked back.
"Do you hate him, Rudi?"
Rudi chuckled darkly.
"Hate? That fly pollutes the air around me. If I could, I'd rip off his wings one by one and crush him while he's still breathing."
David gave a thin smile.
No further words were needed.
The game had begun.
He stepped out of the classroom, walking with confidence, a smug grin on his face as he glanced toward the buzzing field outside.
"Let's see what your game looks like… Al."
---
Hazandeen Gymnasium – Pre-Match Prep
The massive gym—usually used for basketball—had been transformed into a preparation ground. A huge banner hung over the main stage:
FRIENDSHIP FESTIVAL: Hazandeen International High School vs Makazhar Elite School
Al stood among Hazandeen's martial arts participants, alongside Rina and Jogo. Their uniforms bore the HIHS logo proudly across their chests.
Rina leaned in close, her voice hushed with concern.
"Al… are you sure you're okay with this? You can always forfeit later. This isn't life or death."
Al only glanced sideways, expressionless. The irritation of having to sacrifice his nap time just to play a punching game with weak brats still burned within him.
Jogo, standing beside them, scoffed loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Forfeit? This isn't about life or death. It's about our school's pride. We're the best. If you can't even stand for your school, you don't deserve to wear that uniform."
Rina stayed silent. She couldn't argue with the logic—though her heart was uneasy.
Al yawned softly.
"You're the one who forced me to join. At least don't blame me for whatever happens…" Al muttered, implying—don't make a fuss if someone gets hurt because of him.
But Jogo merely snorted with a mocking grin, turned around, and didn't bother replying.
He simply assumed Al was scared.
Soon, the Makazhar Elite School team entered the gym, escorted by a supervising teacher.
Their uniforms were equally elegant—more formal and classic, a sharp contrast to Hazandeen's futuristic aesthetic.
The teachers greeted each other, but the air was stiff. Their smiles were polite… but cold.
More duelists than colleagues.
A massive digital board displayed the match-ups.
Students leaned in.
David Virellano appeared on the basketball roster. The crowd buzzed.
Some HIHS students sighed in relief.
Even Jogo looked slightly relieved.
"Thank god he's not on the martial arts team…"
Rina, too, felt a weight lift—not because she feared David, but because she feared what would happen if David and Al crossed paths.
Good. David isn't joining the fight. Even though I don't know what their relationship is, I can't shake the feeling that David would only end up embarrassing Al even more if they met—just like Vianna did to him, she thought.
Yes, David was strong. But Rina believed she was stronger.
Even Vianna—David's own sister—had been Rina's rival for years.
Still, she couldn't help but worry how Al would survive the drama.
Al himself did not pay much attention to the matter.
However, hearing Jogo's complaints struck him with a touch of irony—especially since Jogo had just been proudly boasting about the honor of their school.
What was there to fear about David? Both he and David were in the mid stage of the Adept Level. Also Same Martial Artist Class. Although that boy… Al paused briefly in the middle of his inner muttering.
His gaze drifting toward David, who sat there so casually, basking in the spotlight as the center of everyone's attention.
…possesses something even my own eyes can barely perceive. The thought continued, unsettling him somewhat.
The reality that there existed something capable of obstructing even his Dimensional Eye made him uneasy.
Or perhaps, it was not that David had some mysterious concealment, but rather that Al himself was still not skilled enough to fully optimize the Dimensional Eye the way its original owner had done in ages past.
When the official list of martial arts representatives from MES finally appeared, Rina's eyes widened in shock.
"Yolanda…?"
This was no ordinary name. She was one of the elite students of the White Lion Dojo, a place personally overseen and trained by David's older sister.
Yolanda was not just a promising disciple; she was a gifted fighter renowned for her overwhelming technique and her brutal physical strength.
A young combatant of remarkable talent who had already secured a position in Rank C—and was widely believed to be on the very brink of advancing into Rank B.
Why her? Please don't let Al run into that girl… I have to stop this, she thought anxiously.
Though Rina believed she could beat Yolanda herself… If Al faced her?
Her fists clenched.
Jogo saw the name too.
"Yolanda…"
His expression changed—almost amused.
Yolanda was his cousin. They were close.
But more importantly… he knew exactly how cruel she could be in the ring.
Inside, Jogo thought:
If she faces Al… good. Let her tear him apart.
Once the names were fully announced, the students dispersed—each heading to their respective locker rooms to prepare.
And with that—the competition was ready to begin.
---
Today, Hazandeen International High School was unlike any other.
The school gym felt far too small to contain the explosive energy within. Thousands of HIHS students and guests from Makazhar Elite School filled the stands.
Trumpets, chants, mini flags, and posters bearing the participants' names flooded the hot, excitement-charged air.
The school's internal commentator narrated from the digital broadcast booth, his voice booming:
"Up next! The most anticipated match of the day! A clash between three of the top young heirs in Eastern Indorosia! David Virellano—Idham Tamarvich—and Rudi Norvalien!!"
Screams erupted—mainly from female students and even a few excitable teachers shouting:
"DAVID! DAVID VIRELLANO! YOU'RE SO COOL!!!"
David Virellano stepped into the arena.
Tall, athletic, with an aristocratic face and an air of utter confidence. The MES uniform fit his frame elegantly. He wasn't just handsome—he radiated dominance.
From the opposite side, two of Hazandeen's aces entered the court:
Idham Tamarvich, former student council president and eldest son of the school's owning family, and Rudi Norvalien, the rich boy whose mind seemed more preoccupied than focused.
Rudi walked in lazily, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Meanwhile, Idham entered the arena burning with passion—determined to crush David and become the star of the match.
He waved to the audience, but most of them were focused on David.
Even so, a decent number of students still cheered for him—mostly from his own school, since he was representing them.
And most of those cheers came from the boys.
But Idham didn't really care. He was confident enough.
After all, this was his home turf. His school.
He felt like he was the main character.
One against two.
But everyone knew who the star truly was: David Virellano.
---
The match began.
Within seconds, it became David's show.
His movements were sharp, fluid, and stylish. Every shot he made drew cheers. Some teachers even stood up and cheered—clearly losing their neutrality.
Idham played with fiery spirit. He knew this wasn't just a game. It was personal. About pride.
But Rudi was... different.
He wandered, lazily passing the ball now and then, but never showing any true intent to compete. His eyes followed the ball while a small smile curled on his lips—watching David shine.
David dominated effortlessly.
Point after point.
The crowd was entranced by his natural charisma on the court.
The match ended in a landslide victory for MES.
Idham, dripping with sweat and fury, glared at Rudi.
"You didn't even try, Norvalien…"
Rudi only shrugged.
"I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of David. He's playing on another level, isn't he?"
Idham was furious—on the verge of exploding. Fortunately, his nature kept him from losing control completely, especially in front of the crowd.
He just cursed under his breath, then turned and walked away.
He couldn't believe it—because of Rudi, all his dreams had fallen apart.
---
As the audience poured out of the bleachers, Idham stormed off the court.
His eyes burned with frustration.
In the exit hallway, he accidentally bumped into someone.
Al.
Thin, quiet, with his usual eye bags, slowly walking through the corridor.
Idham stared him down. And grinned—channeling his anger into someone random.
"Move aside, orphan boy."
Al was a little surprised. It wasn't like Idham to be filled with so much anger.
"Hmph... What's wrong with you?!" Al asked, half-annoyed, half-too-lazy-to-care.
But Idham only glared at him, as if saying, Don't bother me—or I'll destroy you.
Al, a bit confused, slowly began to understand.
"Ah… are you pissed because you lost to David?" he asked calmly.
"You—don't mock me!" Idham barked.
Irritated, Idham tried to grab Al's collar, but Al easily caught his hand.
"Oii… not like you to be this impulsive. So beneath all that calm attitude, you're still just a kid who can throw tantrums, huh?" Al commented lazily.
Hearing that, Idham froze for a moment.
He snapped back to his senses and quickly released his grip.
He's right… Why am I even this mad? Idham thought.
After taking a moment to calm down, he responded,
"You're right. I guess I overreacted. Sorry."
His tone still carried a hint of irritation.
Al simply tilted his head, looked at Idham for a moment, then stepped to the side and patted his shoulder.
"You don't need to see yourself as beneath him. Sooner or later, he'll fall on his own." He said genuinely, his voice calm.
And with that, Al walked away.
Idham snorted, slightly confused by what he meant—but somehow, his anger felt a little lighter.
"Damn it…"
And with that, he turned away, his emotions slowly cooling down.
---
The martial arts competition was about to begin.
But the atmosphere had shifted.
The crowd's cheers had become a murmur. Everyone now waited for the next highlight.
Al's pace was slow as ever. Dull and unmotivated, he just wanted to find an empty spot and lie down.
But fate had other plans.
Coming from the opposite direction, David Virellano appeared—fresh from his match. A towel around his neck, hair wet with sweat, yet still radiating glory—showered in praise.
The moment David saw Al… his expression froze.
Their eyes met.
There was a flicker—something sharp, tense—in David's gaze.
But he quickly masked it, squinting slightly and offering a razor-thin smirk.
Then he walked past.
Well. Well. Well. I truly did not expect to run into this orphan boy here. Enjoy your day, young man. Soon enough, your fate will be sealed. Hehe. David's inner voice chuckled darkly.
Al, who saw him pass by, chose to ignore it altogether.
There was no benefit in confronting someone like David right now. To him, David was just another tantrum-throwing kid who couldn't accept his arrival in the Virellano family.
Fortunately for David, even though he was unbearably annoying, Al couldn't bring himself to fight back—or at least not until he could fully control his cursed emotions.
Because just like the night before—when Al nearly slapped David—his usually calm father had suddenly exploded and struck him in anger.
That single moment almost made Al's dark side take over.
If he ever went any further than that… he would've ended up in a serious conflict with his family—and perhaps, the Virellano family would've collapsed by the hands of their own blood.
Yet, as David brushed past him, Al caught a peculiar sensation—an energy that felt out of place radiating faintly from David's body.
His crimson eyes glimmered as he activated his gaze, analyzing with precision.
Unfortunately, he found nothing tangible. It was as if the boy had either been exposed to some foreign energy by accident, or had merely brushed against it unintentionally.
Meanwhile, from a distance, Rina noticed the brief interaction and quickly hurried over, confusion written across her face.
Hmph… Al meeting David? I just hope there's no pointless drama, she thought. But all she saw was David walking away calmly, as if nothing had happened
Behind David, Rudi Norvalien followed. And the pointless drama didn't come from David this time—but from Rudi.
Unlike David, he stopped right in front of Al, his eyes sizing him up from head to toe.
"Ah, the scholarship kid. Still alive, are you?"
The insult rolled off his tongue casually, yet each word struck like a sharp needle.
Al blinked. His eyes were empty, cold, indifferent—he looked at Rudi as though he were nothing more than the passing wind.
Two years now this boy has been pestering me. What does he even want from me? Al wondered, genuinely puzzled.
Could it be… is this another one of those ridiculous love-related grudges, dragging me into his mess?
"Do you want my autograph again?" Al said casually, his tone calm but laced with a hint of annoyance.
"What?!" Rudi snapped in irritation, remembering that stupid incident before.
David turned around, slightly shocked, staring sharply at Rudi.
"You asked for his autograph?" he asked.
Rudi shook his head in anger.
"Of course not," he shot back, offended.
Al didn't respond any further. He felt that jab was enough.
He let out a soft yawn, looked away, and prepared to continue walking.
Seeing that, Rudi—already getting annoyed—decided to provoke him further. He couldn't stand letting Al have the last word.
He then stepped forward, blocking Al's path.
"Oh, right. I heard you're representing the school in the martial arts competition? Is that true?" He said.
"Oh my god! Do you actually think a weak little orphan like you can practice martial arts? Or maybe because you've thrown fists in some street fight, you've already begun to fancy yourself a martial artist? Dream on. Haha!" He added mockingly.
Al exhaled slowly, his patience wearing thin. He then smiled faintly and replied, his voice calm yet laced with subtle provocation,
"I hope you still remember what happened to those thugs you sent after me."
Rudi was startled by those words. Of course he knew what happened to the thugs he had sent.
How the hell did he know? Until now, no one had leaked that information. Even the cause of their severe beating was still unclear—especially since they ended up half-conscious with concussions. Could this kid really know? he thought, confused.
"Y-You... how do you know about that?" Rudi asked, shocked.
"I don't know. Let's just say I happened to see those five guys beaten to a pulp in a narrow alley. Or maybe..."
Al cut himself off, stepped a little closer to Rudi, and continued in a cold voice,
"...it was this street fighter here who did it."
Rudi instinctively took a step back, refusing to believe what Al had just said.
He really knows? But how? Could it be that when he was being bullied, someone showed up to help him? Or... could it be... he's actually the one who did it? Rudi's mind ran through every possibility.
Rina and David also looked at Al after hearing that statement.
David didn't really understand what they were talking about, but he remembered that not long ago, Al had been scolded for being accused of fighting—and he had admitted to it.
Could it be related to that? And that was Rudi he'd mentioned back then. So it was real? If so... did that mean Al actually defeated those five thugs?
But that didn't make sense to me. He doesn't even have any magical energy in his body. How could a skinny kid like him take down five grown thugs at once? Impossible, he concluded.
Rina, however, was far more shaken.
If the incident Al spoke of was indeed the same one she remembered, then the terrifying energy she had felt that day—it had belonged to Al?
And coincidentally, she had sensed that very same familiar energy again just yesterday while walking him home.
Is this just a coincidence? So he really knows?
Then... does that mean Al really was involved in that incident? How stupid of me not to ask him properly yesterday, Rina thought, her expression turning serious.
But she wanted to be sure.
When she looked closer at Al and tried to sense his energy again, she reached the same conclusion as before — there was no trace of magical energy in his body.
Though in truth, that was only because her senses were too weak to comprehend Al's true power.
Al simply chuckled at their reactions, leaving the entire event shrouded in mystery for them.
Rudi grew even more irritated by Al's behavior, but in the end, his disbelief outweighed his anger.
He couldn't bring himself to believe that Al had beaten them — and that thought alone was enough to calm his nerves a little.
Then he stepped forward once more.
But this time, Rina intervened. She rushed in, shoving Rudi back roughly.
"Move, Norvalien. Stop bothering Al."
Rudi sneered, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Oh, Rina. Come to save him again, have you?"
"Enough, Norvalien," Rina snapped.
Unwilling to escalate further—especially not with Rina—Rudi stepped back with a mocking grin.
"Let me give you a piece of advice. Don't get too close to him. You never know—poverty might be contagious." His tone was sharp, provocative.
Then, with a twisted smirk, he added playfully,
"But you… you're becoming more attractive, Rina. I've always had a thing for tomboyish girls like you. Haha." With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back toward David.
Rina's face hardened at his words. Her hand clenched into a fist, ready to strike. She lunged forward, arm swinging—
Blaaap! A hand shot out, halting her mid-swing.
David's hand.
His movement was swift, precise, and undeniably strong.
Rina froze, her eyes wide in shock.
David? That speed… it's far beyond what I last saw from him. This boy… he's grown.
David's expression remained blank, devoid of emotion.
"Don't be impulsive, Rina. You may come to regret it."
Al observed the exchange quietly. This was his first time witnessing David's abilities firsthand.
For what it was worth, it was impressive—someone at the Adept Level managing to intercept the strike of someone already at the Practitioner Level.
Ultimately, in real combat, there was never a guarantee of victory simply because one's level was higher.
Even if the odds were a billion to one, a mere human without magical energy, given the right use of strength and environment, could topple even a 'Grandmaster Level' expert like me. That was the conclusion Al came to.
Rina, meanwhile, clenched her fists and reluctantly took a step back. She knew this was not the time or place to escalate further.
David released her arm and turned to leave. But before fully walking away, he left behind a single cold, sharp line, spoken softly yet piercing like a blade:
"Be careful... Rina. He's quite known for being a womanizer. Don't let yourself become his next victim."
At that very moment—
Al's annoyance grew.
He understood that those words were like a knife stabbing into him.
His body reacted instantly, irritation flaring inside—not too much, but enough to stir his anger.
Especially because he still remembered what had happened last night—David and his girlfriend's little game to frame him.
And now, David had the guts to stir things up again in public.
The irritation urged him to fight back.
And Al knew… a little fight should be enough for now.
He took a deep breath.
Then, calmly, he turned around, his eyes fixed on David's back.
"I didn't know a seventeen-year-old could already master the art of hypocrisy—living his life as a liar. I suppose one of the maids at home must've taught him that."
The words flew like invisible arrows.
David stopped.
His eyes widened. His body stiffened.
His left hand clenched so tightly that his knuckles popped.
Not because of the words 'hypocrite' or 'liar'—he had heard those plenty of times from Al before.
But because of the part about the maid who taught him that.
What did he mean? Does he... know something? David thought, shocked.
Rudi looked at him, confused.
But David didn't turn around.
He only took a slow breath... and walked away.
Silent. Furious. Saying nothing.
Inside David's heart, the voice of the past echoed—
the voice of a woman who used to embrace him when he was little.
Al stood still.
He knew exactly what he'd just done.
He knew his words were sharp.
But he also knew... it was a small payback—for the humiliation thrown at him. A humiliation that might even complicate his mission in that household later on.
Rudi could only follow David, while Rina stood frozen, confused by the whole drama. But soon, her thoughts shifted back—to the bigger thing ahead of them.
The martial arts competition.