CHAPTER 61: CHAPTER 9.2 : READY FOR THE EXAM?

A few days passed...

It was Monday, May 20th.

The sky was bright blue, and a gentle breeze swept through the vast cityscape of the human dimension—a parallel realm to that of the djinn. A world of advanced technology, intricate social systems, and dreams that often felt too small to contain reality.

On the rooftop of a multi-story school building, a young man sat quietly, gazing at the horizon. His short, jet-black hair faded to white at the tips, as if touched by winter. His grey-and-white school uniform fluttered in the wind. On his left sleeve, a school emblem stood out: Javarta High School—one of the most prestigious schools in West Indorosia.

Another student emerged from the rooftop door, calling out with a hint of concern, "Aren’t you studying? The national exams are just around the corner."

The young man turned his head, offering a faint smile, then stood up slowly. His eyes remained fixed on the distance, as if he hadn’t really heard the question.

"Study?" he murmured, barely audible. "Is that still a priority... in a world like this?"

The question hung in the air, piercing through layers of meaning. Because this world... was no longer the same. And he was no ordinary teenager.

One world was made of secrets and shadows. The other, bound by routine and social constraints. But in the end, both worlds would collide—and when they did, history would rewrite itself.

Far to the east, beyond the islands and deep blue oceans surrounding the main continent, stood a school already familiar in this story. A towering institution in the heart of East Indorosia’s elite district. A place where tradition met futurism—Hazandeen International High School, or HIHS—the number one high school in the eastern region. A place where heirs of powerful families, top business elites, and high-ranking officials were molded into the future leaders of society.

But lately, HIHS was far from calm.

The recent mysterious explosion that rocked the main library left not just a pile of debris and burned books—but also an unshakable fear in the hearts of the students. The school had sealed off the area, relocated activities to backup facilities, and released a statement that felt... far too diplomatic.

The atmosphere remained tense. The walls felt colder. Footsteps echoed softer than usual. Although HIHS had partially closed, final-year students were still required to attend—especially those facing the upcoming National Exams, a symbolic gate more about preserving family prestige than securing personal futures.

Special study programs were arranged, particularly for students without private tutors—a small minority that still existed even in a school like this, mostly because they were either confident in their own abilities or didn’t take the exams that seriously. But for the school, maintaining high scores was a matter of pride, competition, and institutional ranking.

Among the neat rows of desks and high-end uniforms sat one student who seemed to care the least—yet still played along with the rhythm of daily life.

Al.

Having returned to his "normal" routine, Al sat in the back corner of the class, his head leaning lazily against the window, eyes half-closed. An empty notebook lay open before him—more of a formality than an actual study tool. There was no tension on his face, no nervousness, not even the faintest spark of excitement. It was as if the world shaking around him held no power over his mind.

"This is your last guided session from the school," said the teacher at the front, voice trying to sound firm despite fatigue. "Starting tomorrow, you’ll be on break for self-study. And due to the recent incident, physical facilities are off-limits—but you’ll still have access to the digital library. Remember... self-study. Prepare for the national exams next week."

Some students sighed. A few looked nervous. Others smirked, already feeling prepared. But one thing was clear: time had moved too fast. What once felt like a distant future was now only seven days away.

Still, for most students here, the national exams weren’t about passing or failing. Many had already secured paths to top universities—both domestic and abroad—thanks to their family’s wealth and influence. But even so, internal competition was everything. Ranking meant pride. First place was a trophy for the family name.

And in the middle of all this, one name kept stirring tension in hushed conversations:

Al. Again.

A scholarship student. No flashy background. No bodyguard, no private car. And yet—he ranked first in the latest national mock exam at HIHS. A result that shocked... and deeply unsettled many.

Some accused him of cheating. Others dismissed it as a glitch in the system. But more than a few had started to watch him closely. Because in the world of the elite, even a nameless boy could become a threat—if he possessed something money couldn’t buy: talent, and composure. Whispers and wagers floated through the halls, wondering just what this boy would do next.

But Al didn’t care. Not one bit.

His thoughts drifted far beyond textbooks, formulas, or sample questions. His eyes looked blank, but his mind swirled with constant motion. Because what occupied him now... was not a national exam.

It was something far more important. Far more dangerous. And utterly beyond the understanding of anyone else in that classroom. A shadow creeping in from another dimension. A threat that might already be closer than anyone thought.

The school bell rang, shattering the classroom silence with its familiar chime signaling the end of lessons. The room burst to life with voices—groans, chuckles, nervous laughter, and whispers filled the air as students rose from their seats. One topic dominated: the looming national exams.

Some immediately called their drivers or assistants. Others chatted about predictions and tips from famous tutors. And Al? He simply walked out—no words, no companions, no stress.

Usually, two girls—Rina and Dila—would trail behind him, joking or asking random questions. But not today. Rina was kept home by her parents, worried after the explosion. Dila, meanwhile, was still recovering from injuries sustained during the blast. Not serious, but enough to require full rest.

So Al walked alone.

His steps were calm—almost too calm amid the tension. Around him, students were busy with their own concerns. No one dared greet him. Whether out of caution... or lingering suspicion from the recent mock exam.

But to Al, the silence felt... peaceful.

A few meters from the school gate, several men in dark uniforms stood on alert. These weren’t regular security guards—their posture, movements, and presence made it clear: they were trained professionals. Special police officers, deployed to secure HIHS during the final exam period. After the explosion, the authorities weren’t taking any chances. In addition to guarding the area, they were inspecting technical systems: evacuation routes, surveillance cameras, detection equipment.

Just before Al stepped past the gate, a voice echoed in his head.

"Master."

A telepathic link. The tone soft, but with far too much emotion.

"Yo. What’s up, Michaelis?" Al responded mentally, his face unchanged.

"I won’t be able to move around this week, master... The police ordered all security to stay on school grounds 24/7."

"I figured. Already knew that. Anything else?"

"Haha, you’re amazing as always, master! Nothing escapes you! And, mm... nope, that’s it. But isn’t it going to be terribly hard without me by your side? You’ll miss me... so much... sniff"

Al let out a slow sigh.

"Huff... Right."

"But... Master... I’m so saaad I can’t be with you this week... uwuuuuu..."

His voice trembled.

Al rolled his eyes.

And when he casually glanced toward the security post, there stood Michaelis—a 25-year-old man with a well-built frame, average height, tanned skin, and an extremely expressive face—crying.

Not just normal crying.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and... his nose was running. His expression looked exactly like a child who just lost their favorite toy. He even waved at Al with a heartbreakingly dramatic face.

"Now you understand how stressful it is for me to be around him all the time, Master."

Sebastian’s voice echoed through a different telepathic channel.

Al glanced upward, his eyes locking onto one of the larger school buildings—the one housing the staff and faculty offices. Through an upper window, Sebastian could be seen staring down at him and Michaelis, casually sipping his coffee from a mug marked with the academy’s emblem.

Sebastian wasn’t linked in to the conversation and had no idea what Al and Michaelis were talking about. But judging from Michaelis’s overly dramatic expressions, it was painfully obvious—he was complaining again.

Al let out a soft chuckle. Then, turning his gaze back to Michaelis, all he could do was exhale a long, tired sigh—not out of sympathy, but from sheer annoyance.

"Cut the drama," he muttered under his breath. "Do your job and regroup with Sebastian."

"Y-yes, Master... uwaaaaaaaa~!!!"

His sobs grew louder. Some students passing by looked over in confusion, but Al had already stopped caring.

Without looking back, he left the school grounds. The sky had started to turn orange, the heat of the day fading into a cool breeze.

While everyone else panicked over the exams...

Al walked in a different direction—one only he knew.

Because what awaited him...

Was far beyond any ordinary test.