Christan ignored the situation and casually tossed the ball back to Ben, the guy with round cheeks.
Ethan, seeing he hit a jackpot, immediately went and put Christan's desk beside his. He didn't have a partner till now; whoever thought would come in handy.
"I must recruit him."
Ryan put the seat, then looked at Christan. "Frustrating!" He took a breath and left through the back door.
When Christan wanted to move to his seat, a shout came from somewhere in the class.
"Didn't they teach you some manners when you got into someone else's place?"
He looked at the boy who had shouted at him.
The boy was casually leaning back against the wall as he sat on the table, his bulky body beyond his age. A lollipop was in his mouth, and one hand was tucking a student under his armpit.
Christan glanced at Ethan, but all Ethan did was gesture toward where he had placed the desk before approaching Ben and Agrey.
"Did you just ignore me?"
Christan's eyes became sharp as he turned to the boy, then softened. He didn't want any trouble, especially on his first day.
The boy narrowed his eyes. How dare that wimp look at him like that?
However, at that moment, another figure stepped inside. A middle-aged man with a bald head and a moustache entered the classroom.
Seeing the teacher, Christan moved to take a seat. He went to the back, where Ethan had placed his desk, only to realize they were seatmates.
The class was silent, too silent to believe it was the same class from before the teacher came. He swept his gaze around, wondering what had caused this unnatural stillness.
Was the teacher friendly, and his subject seemed interesting enough to command all their attention?
Then, the teacher turned to the blackboard and wrote a single word: "Mathematics."
Christan dismissed his earlier thoughts. No way the interest silenced them.
Was the teacher too scary that no one dared make a sound?
"I left you a question for homework," the teacher announced, his voice calm yet carrying a weight that pressed on the room. "It was about differentiation. I'll pass around and see how you've done."
The classroom's temperature dropped further. A quiet rustle filled the room as students hesitantly opened their books.
Christan exhaled, relieved. It was his first day, so it wouldn't be his problem. He glanced at his seatmate, who had already opened his notebook, the same one he went to retrieve in the dormitory and waited patiently for the teacher.
The teacher moved from desk to desk, scanning their work. He corrected mistakes, answered questions, and even gave compliments.
When he reached Christan's desk, he paused. "You haven't opened your book?" the teacher asked.
Christan said, his voice trembling more than he expected, "I arrived today."
The teacher nodded and moved on.
The teacher passed him and walked to his seatmate. He looked at his work and nodded with satisfaction.
Then, he moved to the other row to a student in the back seat.
"Where is your homework?" the teacher calmly asked.
The boy, who had a build far larger than his age, nonchalantly replied, "This is my first day. I had no idea about homework."
Christan realized it was the same boy who threw words at him.
Unlike Christan, the teacher didn't move on. Instead, he stood there, his gaze intently toward the boy.
"What's your name?" the teacher asked the student.
The boy raised an eyebrow slightly but replied, "Humphrey."
Only after the words left his lips, as no one expected it, something heavy stretched and landed on the boy's face.
The stillness of the class was broken by the slam, turning it into silence and shivers. Everyone looked to see what had happened.
Christan, who had been watching everything, froze as his breath caught and his eyes widened in disbelief. His heart beat faster.
The teacher had just landed a heavy palm on Humphrey's face, aiming for his nose. Blood splattered onto the desk, and his nose was covered with blood.
Humphrey remained frozen for a moment before his body collapsed from the chair.
The boy had already reported to the school three days ago. However, this was the first time he attended classes. The teacher was aware of that.
For a second, no one moved. Christan stomach twisted.
The teacher wiped his hand with a handkerchief, his face unreadable. "Class representative."
A student in the front row immediately stood.
"Assign some students to get a stretcher and carry Humphrey to the infirmary. And remember to mark his attendance."
The matter was settled just like that. The teacher turned back to the blackboard as if nothing had happened.
Now Christan was reminded of what school he was forced to attend. It was a special school for those who had attended juveniles or committed something which made none of the other schools accept them.
They had determination to change their lives, or some were forced by parents, and this school would accept them. However, the rumors said the school was worse than the worst juvenile he had ever heard of. It crushed whoever the person was.
Students had only three rights protecting them: teachers weren't allowed to kill nor cause permanent physical damage, the right to eat, and lastly, the right to complain which none would dare.
His hands trembled.
Not long after, a few students came with a stretcher, placed Humphrey on it, and carried him out.
Was this the school he had to endure for three years? Just the thought made his heart pound louder.
For the rest of the lesson, he couldn't understand a single thing as he imagined his days ahead.
When class finally ended, the other students walked outside. Christan remained in his seat. He lowered his pen and wrote a single word: Survive.
At first, he thought what mattered was to graduate, but no, he was wrong. He had to survive.
A voice broke his thoughts. "What are you doing? It's almost time for lunch."
Christan looked up to see Ethan standing over him.
As they walked out together, Christan muttered, "Who was that mathematics teacher?"
Ethan glanced at him, amused. "What teacher? Oh, you mean Master?"
Christan stopped walking. "Your Master?"
"We just call him that. Only a few people know his real name."
Christan widened his eyes at him. "You can't be serious."
Ethan scoffed. "Compared to the other teachers, he's easygoing."
Christan stared at him in disbelief. Easygoing?!
Ethan mused at his expression. He almost thought that guy played calm in everything. But now not only was he panicked, he even initiated conversation.
Ethan continued, "There are way stranger things about this school. Don't let small incidents get to you."
Christan frowned. "That was a small incident?"
Ethan met his eyes and sighed. "Listen, what's really scary about this school isn't the teachers or the students, it's the punishments." He crossed his arms. "At least, that's what scares me."
A chill ran down Christan's spine.
"As long as you never break any rules, you'll be fine," Ethan said. "Honestly, you might even come to like this place."
Hah. He couldn't believe it. Come to think about it, Ethan seemed unbothered by anything. It was as if he had a good time in the school.
"Come on, Chris, you haven't even met the other roommates yet. That's what you should be worried about."
When Ethan said that, it clicked. Indeed, he was stressing over a teacher he would see a few times a week when he had yet to meet the ones he'd have to live with every day.
Soon, he arrived at dorm room 1. He took a deep breath before he pushed them open.