The elevator was quiet.
It smelled faintly of tea.
Xavier stood alone, watching the floor numbers climb.
[ CURRENT BALANCE: $1,000.01 ]
One thousand dollars.
In the slums, that would last six months.
Here, it wouldn't even pay for one dry-cleaning of the suit he was wearing.
He needed to turn this tiny spark into a fire.
And he needed to do it fast—before the Butcher demanded his first payment.
The elevator chimed softly.
A gentle, musical sound.
The doors slid open.
Suite 001.
It was not a normal dorm room.
It was a glass-walled fortress.
The ceilings were twenty feet high.
Automated silk curtains framed a view of the Academy's private lake.
But Xavier did not look outside.
He looked at the person by the balcony.
A young man, maybe a year older, stood there pouring sparkling water from a crystal decanter.
He wore a navy silk robe over a crisp white shirt.
His dark hair was swept back perfectly.
His eyes—cold and sharp—were already on Xavier.
This was Julian Thorne.
His father owned the Thorne Cloud Network, the system holding 40% of the world's digital data.
Julian wasn't just a student here.
He was an uncrowned king.
"You're the one," Julian said, his voice smooth, soft… but with a sharp edge, like a hidden knife.
"The one who made a scene at the gate."
Xavier did not answer.
He walked to the center of the room.
Each step made a soft click on the marble floor.
He stopped ten feet from Julian.
Not too close. Not too far.
Enough to show he didn't want friendship.
"A 'scene' means effort, Mr. Thorne," Xavier said calmly.
"I just cleared a path. An orange eyesore was blocking the entrance."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
He put the glass down on a mahogany table.
"That car belongs to the son of Lee Electronics," Julian said sharply.
"One of my family's biggest clients. And you insulted him—twenty minutes on campus."
Xavier finally looked Julian in the eye.
He didn't blink.
He did not show fear, even though his gut was cold and tight.
[ SYSTEM SCANNING… ][ TARGET: JULIAN THORNE ][ NET WORTH: $84B (Family) ][ OBSESSION: PERFECTION & SYMMETRY ][ CURRENT THOUGHT: "HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THE OTHERS. WHO IS HE?" ]
"If Lee Electronics depends on a boy who cries over a car," Xavier said, turning his back to Julian—a huge risk—
"then your family's data is in very shaky hands."
He began to inspect a painting on the wall, voice calm, bored.
"I am Xavier Valerius. Remember the name. I think we will meet a lot."
"Valerius…" Julian repeated, testing the name.
"I know every major family from London to Singapore. I've never heard of a Valerius with your… attitude."
"The truly powerful do not need to be known," Xavier said, still not facing him.
"They are felt. Like a change in the weather."
Julian stepped forward, his face hard.
"This is my suite," he said.
"I don't care what ghost story you crawled out of. The East Wing is mine. You stay in the West. We do not share guests. We do not share information. You never touch my things."
Xavier turned his head slightly.
A small, ghost-like smirk touched his lips.
"I have no interest in your things, Julian," he said.
"My tastes are… much more refined."
[ SYSTEM ALERT! ][ ACTION: MAINTAIN DOMINANCE AGAINST S-TIER HEIR ][ PRESTIGE GAINED: +2,000 ][ REWARD: LIQUIDITY INJECTION ][ BALANCE UPDATED: $1,000.01 ➔ $11,000.01 ]
The numbers flashed in his vision.
Better. But still far from enough.
"Fine," Julian snapped, turning to the window.
"Stay out of my way, and maybe you survive the first week. The 'Unmasking' starts tomorrow at the Welcome Brunch. If you're a fraud, the school will know it immediately."
Xavier did not answer.
He walked to the West Wing of the suite.
The room was massive.
The door to his private bedroom was heavy oak.
He closed it behind him.
The moment the door clicked shut, the mask fell away.
Xavier slumped against it.
Chest heaving.
Silk shirt stuck to his back from sweat.
Hands shaking so violently he had to shove them into his pockets.
He was in a room with a boy who could ruin his life with one phone call.
He had eleven thousand dollars.
And debt in the millions.
He walked to the bed.
King-sized mattress. Egyptian cotton sheets.
He sat down on the edge.
Pulled out a small, crumpled photograph of his mother in her hospital bed.
"Day one is over, Ma," he whispered.
Voice cracking.
"I'm still here."
Suddenly, the System screen flashed gold, bright enough to light the dark room.
[ NEW MISSION: THE FOUNDER'S BRUNCH ][ OBJECTIVE: IDENTIFY THE OTHER 19 'FAKES' BEFORE THEY ARE EXPOSED ][ HIDDEN OBJECTIVE: GAIN THE ATTENTION OF THE HEADMISTRESS ][ REWARD: ??? ]
Xavier stared.
He wasn't alone.
Nineteen others.
Nineteen people just as desperate as him.
One mistake could ruin him.
He stood again, hardening his gaze.
The fear was still there, but buried deep.
Where Julian Thorne would never see it.
He opened his laptop.
High-end, bought with the last of his loan.
"System," he said quietly.
"You said I own 'The Gilded Cafe.' Show me the daily revenue."
[ LOADING ASSET DATA: THE GILDED CAFE ][ DAILY AVERAGE REVENUE: $15,000 ][ CURRENT STATUS: OPEN ]
Xavier's eyes widened.
"Transfer the daily profits to my personal account. Every cent. I need more than clothes tomorrow. I need information."
[ TRANSFERRING… ][ BALANCE UPDATED: $11,000.01 ➔ $26,000.01 ]
It was a start.
But in a school where students spent thirty thousand dollars on a single bottle of wine, he was still the poorest man in the building.
He leaned back against the velvet headboard.
Closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, the hunt would truly begin.