Observation Room

Most instructors had already left the observation deck, but Erhard Vale lingered.
The glow of his tablet lit the lines of his stern face as he replayed the recordings of Tom’s test — the fists, the kicks, the flawless composure.

Erhard’s gaze sharpened. He tapped the screen, pausing the footage at the moment Tom struck. Frame by frame, he zoomed in. A faint shimmer traced across Tom’s outline — imperceptible to naked eyes, but the sensors had caught it.

Instructor Natasya, still standing nearby, frowned. “A restriction? Is he holding himself back?”

“No,” Erhard said quietly, voice grim. “Not holding back. Being held back. He isn’t showing us what he can do. He’s showing us what he’s allowed to do.”

The implication settled like lead between them.

Natasya’s brow furrowed. “Where does he come from? No clan, no lineage, no scouting record — just a normal kid from a normal family.”

Erhard didn’t answer. He stared at the frozen image, eyes narrowing.
“That boy… he’s dangerous. Not because of what he shows, but because of what he hides.”

Locker Room Confrontation

The locker room smelled of sweat and detergent, the clatter of metal echoing faintly.
Tom changed back into his uniform with unhurried movements. Silence wrapped around him until a sharp voice cut through.

“You think you’re special, huh?”

Kaito Ishida leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, eyes blazing. His trademark smirk was gone, replaced by a scowl.

“You didn’t even look serious out there,” he snapped. “That calm face — like the rest of us aren’t worth your time.”

Tom shut his locker softly. He didn’t reply.

Kaito pushed off the wall, stepping closer, fists clenched. “Next test, you won’t get away with that smug act. I’ll crush you in front of everyone.”

Tom finally turned, gaze steady, almost bored. “You’re welcome to try.”

He walked past without another word.

Kaito’s nails dug into his palms, rage boiling. That single, dismissive reply cut deeper than any insult.
A few students nearby exchanged glances and whispered.
By nightfall, the rumor of “Kaito calling out the newcomer” had already spread across the dorms.

Jenny’s Concern

Tom stepped out from the shadowed corridor and into the crowd’s current.
His stride was unhurried, blazer hanging open as though buttons were optional. Around him, conversations clattered — names, rankings, legends — like utensils in a crowded kitchen.

At the sports-complex entrance, Jenny Cross waited, rocking on her heels. When she spotted Tom, her smile came bright and unguarded.

“Tom! Here!” She waved. “Congratulations! I’m lucky the rankings still put me in the Top Five.” She exhaled, half-laughing, half-panicked.

“You earned it,” Tom said.

“And you—” She squinted at him, mock-accusing. “Second place? I’m shocked! I’ve never seen you in any junior competition before.”

He didn’t answer, only a small curve touching his lips.

“It’s just a number,” he said. “Useful later, that’s all.”

Jenny tilted her head, curiosity flashing. “Useful… later?”

Before she could ask more, both their bracelets chimed.
Tomorrow’s schedule appeared in glowing text:

IQ and Strategy Assessments – 9 AM

Jenny groaned. “Guess I’ll be up all night studying.”

Tom’s eyes lingered on the words a moment longer. Not strength, not power… but control.
This was where battles were truly won.

Student Gossip

That evening, whispers spread through the dorms like wildfire.

“Did you hear? The new guy—Tom Anderson—came out of nowhere and took second place!”
“Second! He beat Kaito, Hiroto, even Jenny.”
“But where’s he from? No one’s heard of the Andersons.”
“Maybe he’s a hidden heir… or an illegitimate hero’s kid.”
“Or worse—maybe the academy planted him here. Some kind of government weapon.”

Speculation filled every hallway.
Those ranked 20 to 100 felt the ground shift beneath them. The Top 10 eyed their placements nervously.

And in the corners, a few whispered the same thought:
He’s too calm. Too mysterious.

Nightfall

The dormitories grew quiet. Most students lay awake, staring at their ceilings, minds tangled with rankings and rivalries.

Tom sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed. The seal pulsed once, twice — a dull ache pressing against his chest. The walls blurred, dissolving like mist.

An instant later, he stood in a villa’s living room. Moonlight spilled across polished floors, casting everything in silver calm. The ache dulled here, as though the space itself soothed the seal’s burn.

From the kitchen, Maria’s gentle voice drifted. “Back early tonight.”

“Just wanted quiet,” Tom answered, descending the stairs.

Maria smiled softly. She never asked questions. Her silence wasn’t ignorance — it was understanding.

Tom sat, calm as ever.
But his mind replayed the day — Aru’s strength, Kaito’s frustration, Leon’s grin, Sylvia’s eyes, Jenny’s shock.

This academy… this world… will not make it easy.

But that’s fine.

Let’s see who rises when the real trials begin.

Faculty Lounge

Elsewhere, the faculty lounge glowed with dim lamplight.
Erhard sat alone, cigarette burning low, tablet replaying Tom’s strikes — the shimmer, the restraint, the calm mask.

“Who are you, really?” he murmured into the smoke.

He had seen heirs, warriors, and prodigies.
But Tom wasn’t rising into greatness.
He was returning to it.

Erhard exhaled slowly, a ribbon of smoke curling upward.
“Well… sooner or later, this academy won’t contain him.”

Tom’s Vow

Back in his villa, Tom stood at the window.
Moonlight painted his reflection in silver. His hand rested on the frame, fingers tightening.

The academy. The rivals. The seal. All of it was temporary.

What matters for the future are the ones who will return.

And Jenny… her name rose unbidden. She didn’t know yet. None of them did. But she was part of it — part of the key that would decide everything.

The seal pulsed again, pain lacing through his chest. He ignored it, jaw tightening. He had carried worse.

A reminder that even here, in a hall of geniuses, he could not act freely.

“Not yet,” he whispered to the night. “But soon.”

Toward Tomorrow

As the villa sank into silence, the academy stirred restlessly.
Five hundred geniuses would face each other again tomorrow — not with fists or kicks, but with minds.

On every bracelet, the schedule glowed:

IQ and Strategy Assessments – 9 AM

The test that would separate brute force from true leaders.
The test that could crown or destroy reputations.

Tom closed his eyes, the faintest smile brushing his lips.
This is where the real game begins.