Six months. That's how long Akshat had stayed away from this place.
The gates looked the same. Rust at the corners. Paint peeling near the hinges.
Nothing had changed.
Except him.
The moment he stepped inside, the noise shifted.
Not silence. Just… hesitation.
Eyes found him before faces did.
His shirt stretched slightly over broad shoulders, the fabric pulling across his back with each step. His beard had grown just enough to erase the last traces of boyishness. No softness. No hesitation. No weakness in his stride.
Whispers floated around the courtyard.
"Is that him?"
"No way…"
"He looks… different."
Different. That word again.
Beside him, Alexander walked calmly. Six months ago, people had laughed at him. Now they stared.
Golden hair slicked back neatly. Body slimmed into clean, disciplined lines. Controlled. Steady. He didn't fidget, he didn't avoid eye contact—they couldn't recognize him.
Good.
Girls who had once passed him like he was invisible now found reasons to glance twice. Some smiled. Some tried to hide their staring. It didn't matter. Attention was noise. Noise fades. What doesn't fade… is hierarchy.
Halfway across the courtyard, Akshat felt it.
The old tension. Invisible lines across the campus. Territories. Groups.
Unspoken rules deciding who stood above—and who knelt.
Six months ago, he hadn't cared. He hadn't threatened anyone.
Now… he could feel it.
Eyes watched from balconies, stair railings, rooftops.
They weren't admiring. They were measuring.
Alexander leaned slightly toward him.
"Feels nostalgic."
Akshat almost smiled.
"No," he said quietly. "This feels different."
Because this time… they weren't returning as students.
They were variables.
And power structures don't tolerate new variables. They eliminate them.
The first bell rang.
Somewhere inside the campus, someone had already decided: the war started today.
---
Cafeteria
The cafeteria was loud. Trays clattered. Cheap laughter. The smell of overcooked food.
Alexander and Akshat were halfway through their meal when the noise shifted.
Chairs scraped. Heavy footsteps.
Akshat didn't need to look up.
Tae Jin.
And the seven from Hostel 7.
They didn't sit. They surrounded them. The air tightened.
Tae Jin's smile appeared—arrogant, familiar.
"So… you're back."
Akshat unwrapped his lollipop slowly. Plastic crackled in the silence. He placed it between his lips. Calm. Seated.
"Missed me?" he asked.
The smile on Tae Jin's face twitched. One of his boys kicked Akshat's chair from behind.
Alexander didn't move. Not yet.
Tae Jin leaned closer.
"You think gaining some muscle makes you untouchable?"
Akshat exhaled softly. Then he turned his head slightly toward Alexander.
"Finish them."
Cold. Flat. No emotion.
For a second, nothing moved. Then Alexander stood.
And the atmosphere changed.
He didn't rush. Didn't shout. Didn't posture.
The first punch hit before anyone could react. A short hook. Crack.
The sound echoed louder than the cafeteria noise.
One boy dropped. Before the others processed it, Alexander was already moving. No wasted motion. Wide swings eliminated. Every strike precise.
Another punch. Another body down. Another step. Another crack.
Akshat leaned back, lollipop between his teeth, watching lazily as trays flipped and tables screeched across the floor.
Six months ago, Alexander hesitated. Now, he didn't hesitate at all.
One tried grabbing him from behind. Alexander shifted his weight. Elbow snapped backward into the ribs—the sound of air leaving lungs.
He turned. Palm strike. Down.
Another rushed him with a chair. Alexander stepped into the swing. Fist to jaw. Clean. Controlled. Brutal.
Within seconds, the cafeteria floor was littered with groaning bodies. Not one exchange lasted longer than a heartbeat.
Tae Jin froze. His seven were down.
The twenty backup boys rushing in?
They didn't last much longer. One punch each. No mercy. No theatrics. Just precision.
Akshat stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.
Alexander adjusted his collar. Breathing steady. Calm.
Akshat removed the lollipop from his mouth and looked at Tae Jin.
"You should've stayed nostalgic. From now on, Hostel 7 is my territory."
He walked past him. He didn't move. No one did.
Behind them, the cafeteria was silent.
And for the first time since they returned—
The school understood something.
They didn't come back to fit in.
They came back to dismantle.
The war had started. And they had just fired the first shot.
Akshat asked Alexander one question.
"Are you happy taking your payback from your old bully, Tae Jin?"
Alexander didn't answer with words. He just smiled. That alone was enough to see: he didn't run from revenge anymore.
That's how Alexander became the new leader of Hostel 7.
But that was never Akshat's goal.
He turned to the others.
"From now on, Alexander is the new leader of Hostel 7. Understand?"
No one argued.
Everyone nodded.
End of ch 27
To be continue...
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