The sun leaned westward by the time Al finally arrived at school. Just as he crossed the main gate, he greeted the yawning security guard at the post.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Huh? Oh, afternoon, Al... Be careful. A lot of spoiled rich kids with too much free time today," the guard muttered, yawning again.
Al was about to continue walking when two male students bumped into him. One of them fell, and his belongings scattered across the ground from his backpack.
Al bent down to help, but—
"Don't touch my stuff, you orphan trash!" the boy snapped.
Al shot him a cold glare, ready to respond—but before he could, someone grabbed him from behind.
"Eh?!"
In a blink, Al was yanked into one of the school's quieter garden hallways behind the building.
As soon as they arrived, Al spun around twice and took a combat stance, like a trained fighter anticipating an ambush.
"HEY! What is this?! A mugging? A kidnapping? I might look rich, but I don't carry cash!"
