"How the hell do you ignore someone trying to help you out?" the fat kid screamed while following me to the training grounds, but I ignored him.
I wasn't sure why this buffalo decided to imprint on me today. I couldn't believe I was experiencing this on my first day in school.
"Come on, man, speak up! Or are you mute?"
"Maybe you can't speak. No. What if you can speak, but you're just deaf?"
"Wow, the first deaf S-rated guardian… Crazy."
'What the hell is wrong with this kid?' I cursed under my breath.
If we weren't on school premises, I would've ripped this pig's heart out and watched him squeal with his dying breath. Unfortunately, I still couldn't shake the nasty feeling I got from Vice Chancellor Albert. My instincts kept telling me if I did something stupid in their school, I'd be caught instantly.
Thankfully, the boy's relentlessness did little to me. My annoyance vanished as fast as it came, so I could hear his stupidity for as long as necessary without breaking character.
[This kid is clueless. The perfect combination of innocence and sheer stupidity.]
The fat kid kept ranting while I followed the crowd of students to the training grounds.
After walking for five minutes, we reached a massive stadium being used as the training ground. The stadium was no different from a football arena, except the entire field was a battleground.
As usual, I avoided crowded places and went straight to a lonely part of the stadium, but the fat kid followed me like a child would follow her mother.
Seated, I ignored the fat kid who chose to sit beside me and focused on the massive screen displaying Miss Joanne walking to the center of the training ground.
"What the hell is he doing with that D-rated potential brat?"
"Trash meets trash. Even an S-rated potential doesn't change the fact he's from dirt."
"I feel so stupid expecting a slave to have some class."
I heard them whispering about us from different directions, and I was genuinely amused. Ten-year-olds were already this vile and nasty.
Their age didn't stop them from becoming horrible human beings.
[The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.] the voice commented, and I nodded slightly.
Suddenly, a man entered the arena. His muscular frame made him look like an unmovable wall, and his fierce gaze could melt the courage of even the bravest men. The most eye-catching feature of this man was the claw-shaped scar running down the left side of his face.
Most importantly, he was bald and dressed in a tight black shirt with camouflage military trousers and black boots.
I noticed ten-year-old girls blushing while looking at him, whispering amongst themselves with reddened faces. This made me wonder what kind of cartoons these girls watched in this day and age that would make them blush over a bald man.
Weren't they interested in princes with long, curly hair anymore?
I watched as Miss Joanne walked up to the man and whispered something to him, which made his fierce expression break with a look of genuine surprise.
At that moment, I felt something was wrong—and as I predicted, the man's head snapped toward the students. He scanned every seat until he found the two lone figures seated some distance away from the rest of the class.
"Lucius Blackwater, get down here!" the man roared at the top of his voice.
[Does he have to shout?]
'I'm just as confused as you.'
Sigh.
Sighing heavily, I rose to my feet and walked toward the arena. A minute later, I stood at the center, gazing at the man with a blank expression.
"Do you know who I am?" the man asked as he walked closer, his towering figure looming over me.
I wondered if he expected to intimidate me with his height or frame.
"Am I supposed to?" I asked, my unimpressed gaze fixated on his face.
His character broke, revealing immense shock. He probably had a thousand possible responses I could give—but this wasn't one of them.
To his credit, he recovered quickly. Much faster than I expected.
"I am a retired B-rank Hero Guardian, popularly known as General Steel. The combat class instructor," General Steel said with a prideful tone.
Students clapped and some even whistled.
"Okay… so?"
Buzz.
Murmurs from the students began rising rapidly as my response threw everyone off guard. They expected General Steel to get a much better reaction from me, but nothing changed.
Miss Joanne, who stood at the sidelines, wore a shocked expression as well. Even she, a veteran Guardian, would feel uncomfortable in the presence of this man—but I wasn't moved.
Not impressed, not afraid.
I was sure they were all wondering what I must have gone through to become this fearless.
"Good! Good! I like kids with guts. You have the talent to become an S-rated Guardian—and the heart!" General Steel laughed.
"For that reason, I'll make this class all about you." His eyes flashed with cruelty. "Alex Briggs, get down here. I'd like to see if this kid is all bark and no bite."
[Not good…]
'What's wrong?' I asked.
[In the United States, there are two SS-rated Guardians. The Briggs family patriarch is one of them. This was a family of assassins before the Blue Death event. While they do not have abilities, they possess the Demon-kin martial art—a martial technique considered S-rated at the very least! Alex Briggs is considered the young demon who will most likely succeed the family patriarch due to his terrifying talent in martial arts.]
I frowned as I heard this, and my attention shifted to the figure walking down the stairs, glaring at me from a distance.
'How do you even know all of this? What the hell are you?' I couldn't help but ask.
I found it strange that a talking voice from a meteor would know everything going on in the country.
[We'll have this conversation later. But for now, focus on the fight. General Steel is using this opportunity to gauge your true potential. If you lose badly, people will believe you aren't qualified to be given the S-potential rating.]
'You think I'll lose?' I asked while watching Alex walk up the stage.
[You lack combat experience. You're disadvantaged.] the voice responded honestly.
"I see," I muttered, standing face-to-face with Alex.
Alex Briggs was a thirteen-year-old kid, about 5'7", with strangely smooth skin. He had spiky black hair, and for someone who practiced martial arts, his lean build made it hard to believe.
For someone from a powerful family, he looked plain. He lacked the overbearing presence of a powerful martial arts practitioner. If it wasn't for the fact the voice has never been wrong, I would've called it a liar.
I slowly took off my jacket and tossed it aside while he stood and waited for the combat class Guardian to give the signal.
I had questions—but I was willing to let my fists do all the talking.
Alex Briggs, huh?
I'll take him on.