SCHOOL ARC
Morning Assembly
The next morning, the entire student body gathered in the auditorium, voices buzzing like a restless hive. Every seat was full, every face tense. The teachers lined the stage while the headmaster stepped forward, his long white beard brushing against his black robes, staff in hand.
"Students… students, calm down," he said, raising his voice over the noise. "I know you're all worried about your showers turning scalding hot last night"
The crowd erupted instantly.
"I ALMOST GOT BOILED ALIVE!" one boy shouted.
A girl raised her arm, her sleeve rolled up to show bandages. "I've got burn marks all over my arms!"
"And I was literally cooking in my bathroom!" another student yelled from the back.
"Silence!" a teacher barked, though his voice was barely heard over the chaos.
The headmaster slammed his staff onto the stage, sending out a pulse of calming magic that dimmed the uproar slightly. "We are hunting the suspect down. Whoever tampered with the water system will be caught and punished. Until then, all dorm showers are locked down."
Another teacher stepped forward. "Please, remain calm. We have reason to believe this was sabotage, but we are doing everything in our power to—"
"Don't tell us to 'remain calm'!" a girl snapped. "Some of us were seconds away from serious injury!"
The headmaster's voice grew sharp. "Whoever is responsible should confess now."
The room fell silent for a tense moment. No one moved. No one spoke.
"Very well," the headmaster said finally. "Classes are dismissed for the day. Return to your dorms or enjoy the town, but stay alert. We'll be handling this."
In Town
Later, Jimmy and Adam walked through the bustling streets of Avalon. Adam's chinchila perched on his shoulder, still restless, nose twitching as if it sensed lingering danger.
"So," Jimmy asked casually, hands in his pockets, "how's your hand?"
Adam flexed his fingers. "Still burnt, but not too bad. Should heal in a few days."
"Good," Jimmy said.
Adam smiled lightly. "Want to hit the town? Maybe catch a movie? Or bowling, maybe grab something to eat?"
Jimmy blinked, surprised. "Movies? Bowling? Huh… that didn't exist a thousand years ago."
Adam gave him a look. "What?"
"Nothing," Jimmy said smoothly.
They rounded a corner and stopped dead.
Up ahead, three punks were crowding August, leaning against the wall with smug grins.
"C'mon, sweetheart," one of them sneered. "Don't play hard to get."
August crossed her arms. "Not interested."
"Aw, come on"
Before he could finish, August drove a sharp kick into each of their groins in rapid succession. All three doubled over, groaning in pain. She darted behind Jimmy, cheeks flushed.
Jimmy blinked at her. "…Wow. The self-proclaimed tough girl hiding behind me. Adorable."
"Shut up!" August hissed, her face red.
The punks recovered quickly, rage twisting their faces. "You're dead, scarf-boy!" one of them roared as they charged.
Jimmy sidestepped, moving like a shadow. One elbow slammed into the first punk's gut. A twist and a jab dropped the second. With a clean, sharp knee, the third hit the pavement.
Adam's jaw dropped. "You took them all down at once."
Jimmy brushed imaginary dust off his scarf. "Yes. Now let's leave before the knights or cops show up."
"Both?" Adam asked.
"Both," Jimmy said, already walking away.
They bolted down the street and ducked into a restaurant.
At the Restaurant
Jimmy, Adam, and August sat around a wooden table, ordering plates of steaming noodles and grilled meat.
"So," Jimmy said casually as he ate, "who were those guys?"
August groaned, stabbing her fork into her food. "Just some punks from third grade. They think every girl on campus belongs to them."
Adam raised his brows. "Sounds… intense."
"Intense," August said flatly. "Most girls are sick of them."
Jimmy leaned back. "Think they're the ones behind the water sabotage?"
August shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me. But we don't have proof yet."
Adam tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So… what now?"
"Now," August said, taking another bite of her food, "we eat. And we don't bother with them — not until we know more."
Jimmy smirked faintly but said nothing, letting the conversation drift to lighter topics as they finished their meal.
Elsewhere – The Offer
In the dark alley behind the academy, the three punks groaned as their bodies healed, faint traces of healing magic fading from their bruises.
One of them spat blood onto the ground. "Damn him… scarf-wearing bastard…"
A shadow fell over them.
A figure cloaked in black, face hidden beneath a hood, stepped into the alley. In his hand, a long staff twisted into a weapon — the end shaped not into a blade, but into a wicked hook, gleaming in the moonlight.
His voice was smooth, cold.
"I can give you power," he said. "Power enough to take your revenge. Do you want it… or not?"
The three punks froze, exchanging uneasy looks. Then, slowly, one of them nodded.
The figure tilted his hooded head slightly, the sharp gleam of his hooked staff catching the dim alley light.
"Good," the figure said, his voice low and smooth. Shadows rippled around his hand as dark energy swirled between his fingers. "Take this — a fragment of my power."
The three punks trembled as black flames seeped into their veins, etching strange, glowing marks along their arms.
"When the time is right," the figure continued, "you will transform into demons. You will unleash terror on that academy. And when you do… they will remember the name Hook."
One of the punks stammered, "W-Wait… you're a demon?"
The figure chuckled darkly, the sound echoing against the alley walls. "Yes. Call me… Hook."
Back at Avalon Academy
The next day, tension lingered across the campus. The boiling water problem had been fixed, but fear still hung in the air. The culprit hadn't been caught, and now teachers patrolled the dorm halls and guarded the boiler room around the clock to prevent further sabotage.
Inside their dorm room, Jimmy and Adam sat on opposite beds, talking quietly while Adam's chinchila chewed on a snack.
Then the door slammed open.
August stormed in, hair a mess, cheeks flushed… and shirtless.
Jimmy blinked. "…Why are you shirtless?"
"I don't want to talk about it," August said sharply, crossing her arms over her chest.
Adam, blinking rapidly, turned red. "You… you just walked into the boys' dormitory. Shirtless."
August's face flared crimson. "You two are perverts!" she yelled, grabbing a pillow from Jimmy's bed and hurling it at his head.
Jimmy ducked easily, and the pillow hit Adam square in the face. "Hey!" Adam yelped, trying to shield himself as she threw another pillow, then a book, then a random slipper from the corner of the room.
Ten minute later, the room was a mess and August was sitting cross legged on Jimmy's bed, arms crossed, expression calm as if nothing had happened.
Adam sighed, brushing his chinchila off his shoulder. "So now that you've calmed down—"
"Me?" August cut in, her tone sharp. "I'm not the one acting like a pervert!"
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. "You're the one barging into our room without a shirt. That's on you, not us."
"Semantics," August muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "Now shut up and listen."
Jimmy and Adam exchanged a look but stayed quiet.
"Those punks," August said, her voice sharper now, "the ones who keep harassing girls around campus? They're at it again. But it's not just me they're targeting everyone now."
Jimmy frowned. "Tell a teacher, not us."
"I did," August snapped. "They told me to 'figure it out myself.'"
Adam frowned, brows furrowed. "That… doesn't sound very teacher-like. Especially here."
Jimmy leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "No. It doesn't. Something's off."
AT NIGHT
By midnight, the dorm was silent. August had fallen asleep sprawled across Jimmy's bed, still in her casual hoodie, while Adam snored lightly in his own. Jimmy, restless, slipped on his scarf and jacket and quietly stepped out.
"Need some air," he murmured, shutting the door behind him.
The halls of Avalon Academy were quiet — eerily so. The only light came from the faint glow of enchanted torches, casting long, thin shadows on the stone walls.
Technically, wandering after hours was against the rules, but Jimmy didn't care. He'd walked in darker, deadlier places a thousand years ago.
His steps were soundless as he rounded the corner. Then—
Drip… drip… drip.
His eyes sharpened. On the floor ahead of him lay a severed hand, pale and limp, blood pooling around it and streaking down the corridor in a dark trail.
"What the…" Jimmy muttered, crouching to inspect it. "This… isn't right."
He followed the blood. It led him through the winding halls until it stopped at the entrance of the training arena, the heavy double doors slightly ajar.
Jimmy pushed them open.
And froze.
THE ARENA
A girl — no older than sixteen — lay sprawled on the floor, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Over her crouched a hulking figure, its body warped with jagged black markings, teeth bared and slick with fresh blood.
The demon's glowing red eyes snapped to Jimmy as it hissed. "Fresh… fresh meat."
Jimmy's gaze hardened. His scarf fluttered in the cold night air as his voice dropped to a deadly calm.
"Enjoy your meal," he said. "Because it's your last."
With a guttural roar, the demon lunged.
Jimmy moved like lightning. His fist slammed into its face, sending the creature hurtling across the room and crashing into the metal wall with a deafening clang.
The impact shook the arena.
Jimmy stepped forward, eyes narrowing as the creature writhed and screeched. Then, in the flickering light, he saw its twisted features clearly.
One of the punks.
The demon roared and charged again, faster this time. Jimmy didn't flinch. He sidestepped the attack, seized the creature by the head, and his palm flared with white-hot flames.
"Burn."
The demon shrieked as its body turned to ash, disintegrating in seconds until nothing remained but smoldering embers.
The room fell silent — except for the sound of footsteps.
The overhead lights snapped on.
Jimmy turned.
Adam stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, his chinchila tense on his shoulder.
"Jimmy…" Adam whispered, voice trembling. "What… what is that?"
Jimmy exhaled slowly, the glow fading from his hands. "A demon."
Adam's voice cracked. "Impossible. Demons died a thousand years ago. Prime is dead. They're gone."
Jimmy's expression darkened. "Not extinct. Just… hiding. Waiting." He crouched, touching the scorch mark left behind by the dead punk. "And judging by this aura… someone powerful gave them this form."
Adam stepped closer, still shaken. "How do you know that?"
Jimmy glanced back, brown eyes sharp and unreadable. "Call it a hunch."
BACK AT DOORMS
They slipped back into the dorm silently. August was still curled up on Jimmy's bed, asleep, while Adam dropped into his own, pale and shaken.
Jimmy didn't bother with his bed. He collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling as the weight of the night settled on him.
WITH OUTHER PUNKS
Across the city, the remaining two punks paced in a dark alley, fear in their eyes. The faint glow of demonic power still pulsed beneath their skin, but it felt weaker — unstable.
"Shit," the second punk hissed. "He killed him. Just like that. Like it was nothing!"
The third — the brains of the group — clenched his fists, sweat dripping down his brow. "If he's that strong… how the hell are we supposed to kill him?"
From the shadows, a familiar voice whispered like poison.
"You don't."
The alley darkened as Hook stepped forward, his wicked, hooked staff glinting under the moonlight.
"You grow stronger. And when you're ready…" His voice curled into a sinister grin. "You tear that academy apart."