Chapter 125
First class
For once, everything seemed to be going smoothly.
…Which is exactly why IAM kept his guard up.
It was always when things seemed fine that they started going horribly wrong. He wasn't superstitious, but this world didn't run on luck—it ran on cruelty and irony. So as they walked across the clean, open paths of Hope Academy under the soft morning sky, IAM stayed alert.
The academy tower in front of them—sleek, modern, and covered in reflective steel—rose high into the air like a blade driven into the ground. Black glass shimmered with faint red accents, and above the wide double doors was the label:
TOWER OF PATH THEORY
IAM stepped through the wide front doors and into the building that looked more like the headquarters of a futuristic tech company than a classroom tower.
The inside was stunning—metallic architecture blended with cutting-edge technology.
The natural light pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows softened the harshness of steel and glass, bathing the interior in a warm, almost golden hue.
There were subtle details everywhere: smart-light panels embedded in the floor, shifting murals across the walls.
IAM and the other two headed toward the sleek elevator at the far end of the hallway. They stepped inside, and the doors whispered shut behind them.
Light jazz played gently from above as the elevator shot upward.
Reuel hummed along like he'd heard it a dozen times before.
IAM watched the floors blink by on the digital display: 2… 3… 4…
They reached the 7th floor.
The doors opened, and they stepped out into a hallway much quieter than the lobby. Only a few students were walking by now—some chatting, others yawning.
After a short walk, they stopped in front of a door marked CLASSROOM 7-F.
Reuel didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open.
The classroom was bright and clean, modest in size but well-equipped.
At the front was a dark podium with a built-in touchscreen, clearly where the instructor would speak. Behind it stood a massive digital display screen—curved, wide, and crystal clear. Off to the left was a desk with a sleek laptop and a few smart devices that looked like portable projectors or scanners.
The seating was arranged like a lecture hall, though it wasn't huge. Maybe a hundred seats at most. IAM guessed no more than thirty students were expected to attend.
He took a front row seat without hesitation.
He preferred it that way. The closer he was to the teacher, the more he could absorb.
He didn't care about what was cool, or what made you look mysterious and powerful. He wasn't trying to aura farm by the window like a protagonist waiting for the plot to knock on his door.
He didn't have a system whispering answers in his ear, or a reincarnated mind full of cheat codes and future knowledge.
He hadn't been blessed by some divine being or cursed by fate.
As far as he knew...
He had nothing.
So he would have to learn. The hard way.
He could only try his best.
But even as he told himself that, the question began to rise again.
What exactly am I trying to do in this world?
He said he wanted to undo the Circle of the Accursed. To undo the mysteries tangled deep within this strange place.
But… what came after that?
Let's say he succeeded. Let's say he answered every question.
What then?
Would he try to return to Earth?
Would he die peacefully, knowing he tried?
Would he chase the truth of how he woke up in this world in the first place?
And what if he found it… and hated the answer?
What then?
What was his purpose?
"IAM… IAM… IAM—dude, I'm talking to you. You totally spaced out," Reuel said, raising an eyebrow.
IAM blinked, his thoughts snapping back to the present.
He nodded faintly and pushed the spiraling questions to the back of his mind. One thing at a time. That's all he could manage right now.
In front of each seat was a slim control panel embedded into the desk. IAM tapped his, and the screen lit up with a soft hum. He ran his fingers along the interface, navigating through its options.
It didn't take long to figure out its purpose.
The panel could sync with the instructor's display, mirroring whatever was shown on the main screen for easier viewing. It also offered additional features: expanded explanations, definitions, examples—even guided breakdowns for complex concepts.
It was, essentially, a personal learning assistant. An intelligent tool designed to help students absorb information more efficiently—probably the closest thing to having a private tutor in your desk.
IAM leaned back slightly, impressed despite himself.
More students began to trickle into the room, filling the space with soft conversation and movement. Groups formed naturally—some already laughing, others exchanging cautious introductions. The atmosphere shifted from quiet anticipation to buzzing excitement.
At some point, the classroom door opened again—and Henry stepped in.
He wore the standard Hope Academy uniform like everyone else: red, black, and white, though like all sponsored students, his version had been modified.
IAM noticed the details immediately.
Henry's blazer had two words stitched onto the shoulders in bold black lettering. On the left: Henro. On the right: Rohen. Each name had a faint red tint near the bottom of the letters, like a slow ember bleeding upward.
IAM figured it was a play on his name and the brand—two different stylized combinations of "Henry" and "Rolen."The logo placement, the styling—it was the exact same brand Reuel was sponsored by.
He also had on a very nice watch. A sleek minimalist black with a thin red ring circling the face. It matched the uniform almost too well, like it had been designed as part of the set. A small silver R was etched near the bottom corner of the dial—Rolen's logo.
Henry carried himself with ease. His curly hair bounced softly with each step, and his skin had a warm tone that paired well with his unusually light brown eyes—so light they were almost the color of sand in the morning sun.
He wore a single, long silver earring that swayed gently as he moved, catching the light just enough to draw the eye without being flashy.
He was a descendant of the Beastman.
The moment he stepped inside, Reuel stood up and waved him over with a grin.
Henry looked up, spotted him, and smiled casualy like they were already friends.
IAM blinked.
How does Reuel do that so fast?
Henry made his way down the aisle and sat one row behind them. He greeted Reuel easily, resting his head on his arm as they spoke like it was just another Tuesday.
A moment later, Henry turned his gaze toward IAM and Yohan. They exchanged greetings.
They were just starting to settle into conversation when the door at the front of the room opened once more.
A hush fell over the class.
The instructor had entered.
The first class was about to begin.