The first bell for homeroom rang at 7:30 a.m., and Westbrook High's hallways erupted into a chaotic rush of backpacks, lockers slamming, and teenage chatter. Ethan Reed walked through the fray with a calm he'd never felt before, his hood down for the first time in months, his steps steady and purposeful.
The night before had been transformative. After the rain stopped, he'd gone home, eaten a quick dinner with his parents—who'd stared in surprise at his uncharacteristic smile—and locked himself in his tiny bedroom. Thanks to the Perfect Score System's Photographic Memory, he'd spent three hours devouring his math textbook, and every word, every graph, every theorem stuck in his mind like glue. He'd even worked through the most advanced problems in the back of the book, problems Mr. Henderson had called "college-level" and never assigned.
By the time he'd fallen asleep, Ethan knew the material better than the teacher who'd written the exam.
Math class was second period. When Ethan walked in, the room quieted for a beat. Jake Miller was already in his seat, surrounded by his friends, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Ethan. "Look who decided to show up. Still clutching that failed test, Reed? You gonna frame it or use it as a coaster?"
The jocks snickered, but Ethan didn't flinch. He just nodded at Jake, set his backpack down at his desk, and pulled out a pencil and a calculator—though he knew he wouldn't need it.
Lila Chen walked in a moment later, and the room quieted even more. As Westbrook's valedictorian, she was not just the smartest girl in the grade, but the most admired. With her straight black hair, sharp hazel eyes, and a GPA that never dipped below 4.0, she was the kind of student teachers wrote letters of recommendation for before she even applied to college. She usually sat in the front row, but today, she paused when she saw Ethan, then walked over to the empty seat next to his.
The entire class stared.
Jake's smile dropped. "Chen, you're sitting with him?"
Lila didn't look at Jake. She pulled out her notebook and glanced at Ethan, her expression curious, not judgmental. "I heard you failed the last exam pretty badly. I also heard you stayed after school yesterday redoing the problems in the library. I brought my notes—maybe they'll help."
Ethan's heart skipped a beat. The System's Charisma boost might have been small, but it was already working. "Thanks," he said, his voice steady. "But I think I'm good. Thanks for offering, though."
Lila blinked, surprised. She'd expected him to jump at the chance for help. "Alright. Prove me wrong, then."
Just then, Mr. Henderson walked in, a stack of white papers in his hand. His gaze immediately locked on Ethan. "Reed," he said, setting the stack down on his desk. "I spoke to the principal last night. She's agreed to let you take the makeup exam today—if you promise to take it seriously. No more slacking, no more staring blankly at the page. Understand?"
"I understand," Ethan said.
Mr. Henderson sighed, then handed him a crisp, blank exam. "Desk at the front. Isolated. No talking, no notes, no calculator. I don't want any excuses… or any funny business."
The implication hung in the air: he thought Ethan would cheat.
Ethan picked up the exam, walked to the front desk, and sat down. The class watched him like he was a bug under a microscope. Jake leaned back, crossing his arms, a smug look on his face. "This'll be good. Watch him freeze after the first question."
Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. "Begin."
Ethan picked up his pencil and scanned the first page. The questions were the same ones from the failed exam, with a few new ones thrown in—harder ones, the college-level ones he'd studied the night before.
He didn't hesitate.
Question one: solved in ten seconds.Question two: done before Mr. Henderson finished pouring his coffee.By the time the other students were still scratching their heads at question three, Ethan was flipping to the second page.
His hand moved across the paper like a machine, his writing neat and precise, every step of every solution laid out perfectly. The Photographic Memory made it impossible to forget a formula, and the minor IQ boost let him see the logic in even the most convoluted problems instantly.
Five minutes. That's all it took.
Ethan set down his pencil and raised his hand. "Mr. Henderson, I'm done."
The room went dead silent.
Mr. Henderson nearly spilled his coffee. "What?" he spluttered. "You can't be done. The exam is an hour long—you've been writing for five minutes!"
"I'm done," Ethan repeated. He slid the exam across the desk. "Every answer is correct."
Jake burst out laughing. "Oh, this is classic! He's giving up already! Just handed in a blank paper, didn't he?"
Lila leaned forward, her eyes wide as she stared at Ethan's exam. She could see the pages were filled with writing—neat, organized writing.
Mr. Henderson walked over, his face red with anger. He grabbed the exam, ready to tear into Ethan for wasting his time, but when he looked down at the first question, his fingers froze.
"Correct," he muttered. He flipped to the second question. "Correct." Third. "Correct."
He kept going, flipping page after page, his eyes growing wider with each answer. When he reached the last question—the extra-credit problem he'd added just for Lila, a problem no student at Westbrook had ever solved—he gasped.
The solution was perfect. Elegant, even. Better than the one in his teacher's manual.
Mr. Henderson looked up at Ethan, then back at the exam, then at Ethan again. He walked to his desk, grabbed his answer key, and graded the exam front to back.
When he finished, he set the paper down on his desk, picked up a red marker, and wrote a single number at the top.
Then he walked back to Ethan, his voice shaking with disbelief. "100%. A perfect score. Every question—including the extra credit—is correct."
The class erupted.
Jake's mouth hung open. "That's impossible! He cheated! He must have copied off Lila!"
"I was sitting right next to him," Lila said, standing up. Her voice was firm, cutting through the noise. "He didn't look at my paper once. He finished before I even got to question five. He didn't cheat."
Mr. Henderson held up Ethan's exam for the whole class to see. The red "100%" blazed like a beacon. "This isn't cheating. This is mastery. Ethan, I… I owe you an apology. I thought you weren't trying, but you've clearly been working harder than any of us knew."
He paused, then smiled—a real smile, not the tired one he usually wore. "In fact, I'd like to ask you to join the school's math competition team. We're competing against North High next month, and we could use someone with your… sudden talent."
Ethan felt a warmth in his chest. It was the first time a teacher had ever praised him, the first time anyone at school had seen him as more than a failure.
[Ding!][Quest "Prove Your Worth" completed!][Rewards awarded:][1. IQ incre
ased by 20 (Current IQ: 118)][2. Advanced Calculus Proficiency permanently unlocked!][3. $10,000 deposited into Host's bank account!][New Quest Unlocked: Math Competition Champion.][Objective: Lead Westbrook High to victory in the regional math competition.][Reward: Eidetic Memory (upgrade from Photographic Memory), Full Physical Enhancement, $50,000 cash bonus.]
Ethan looked at Mr. Henderson, then at Lila, who was smiling at him, then at Jake, who looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.
"Sure," Ethan said. "I'll join the team."
As the bell rang for the end of class, Lila walked over to him, her notebook in hand. "Ethan," she said, her eyes shining. "That was amazing. Seriously. Wanna study for the competition together? I'd love to learn how you solved that extra-credit problem so fast."
Ethan smiled. "I'd like that."
Jake watched them walk out together, his hands clenched into fists. He'd always had a crush on Lila, and the thought of her choosing Ethan—the loser—over him made his blood boil.
He pulled out his phone and sent a text.
[Jake: Meet me behind the gym after school. We got a problem to fix.]
Ethan didn't see the text. He was too busy checking his bank account on his phone.
$10,000.
It was more money than his parents made in three months.
He looked at Lila, walking beside him in the hallway, and at the students who now stared at him with respect instead of contempt.
The invisible kid was gone.
And the school genius was just getting started.