CHAPTER 86: CH 86: STARTING NEW SCHOOL- PART 2

Fenrir leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded as the classroom buzzed around him.

The teacher at the front was going on about combat theory—some lesson about optimal mana distribution when summoning—but Fenrir couldn’t have cared less.

His chin rested on his arms, folded on the desk, and he stared at the wooden surface like it held the secrets of the world.

In reality, he was just counting down the minutes until this miserable excuse of a school day ended.

He could feel them though. Dozens of stares. Students throwing glances his way, whispering among themselves.

Not just because he was new—but because of who he was. The brother of Legion’s CEO.

The rumored Mr. X. The mysterious potion maker. Everyone had an opinion, but no one had the guts to ask him anything directly.

Not that Fenrir would’ve answered them anyway.

The teacher’s gaze burned holes into him a few times, her face twitching with restrained annoyance.

But Fenrir wasn’t breaking any rules—technically. He wasn’t disrupting class. Just... not participating. Eventually, the lesson droned to an end and the school bell rang.

Fenrir stood up and began heading for the door when a voice called out.

"Hey, Black!"

He stopped and turned slightly. Two boys in overly neat uniforms strutted toward him, followed by a few others who looked like their loyal entourage.

One of the front-runners had slicked-back hair and an arrogant grin, his chest puffed out like he was better than everyone else.

"You’re one of us, right? Elites. Thought we’d show you where the fun really is around here. Real action—not this classroom crap. We’ve got access to restricted simulation fields. High-level combat, exclusive loot, no teachers."

The other nodded eagerly.

Fenrir’s eyes narrowed slightly, then went back to their usual bored half-lidded look.

"No thanks."

"What?"

"I’m not interested."

Fenrir said simply, stepping past them like they didn’t exist.

The group looked stunned, like someone had just slapped them.

The lead boy’s face twitched, disbelief quickly turning into indignation. He reached out, grabbing Fenrir’s shoulder roughly.

"You think you’re better than us? You think just because you’re Fredric Black’s brother you don’t need to show respect?! A system-less bastard like you should learn his place!"

He sneered.

That caught everyone’s attention. Students nearby paused mid-step. A few gasped. One of them ran to get a teacher.

The boy activated his system in a flash. His fist ignited, flames dancing wildly as he lunged toward Fenrir with a roar.

"I’ll show you what happens to arrogant trash like you!"

Fenrir didn’t even flinch.

Just before the flaming punch could reach him, his hand snapped out and caught the boy’s wrist mid-air. There was a sickening crack as Fenrir twisted.

The boy’s face paled, his scream muffled by his own clenched teeth. He dropped to his knees, clutching his now bent wrist.

Fenrir let go and stared down at him.

"You’re so weak I didn’t even need a system to deal with you."

He said coolly.

The entire hallway fell into a stunned silence. No one moved. No one spoke. Fenrir’s voice wasn’t loud, but it rang out like a bell in the silence.

The other students backed away instinctively.

"You picked the wrong person to mess with."

Fenrir added.

Just then, the teacher stormed in. Her eyes darted between Fenrir and the rich kid on the floor.

"What happened here?!"

______

The teacher, Ms. Triss, moved briskly through the halls, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

The commotion she’d just heard had been enough to startle even the more laid-back staff on the top floor.

A fight.

Of course it was a fight. In a school packed with the arrogant children of powerful families, fights were inevitable—but dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

She sighed, already feeling the pressure building in her chest.

Most of the students here had parents who could destroy careers with a single call.

And this wasn’t just a case of two spoiled brats throwing words at each other.

If Fenrir Black was involved—and he was, she’d seen his name on the attendance sheet this morning—then this was no ordinary disciplinary issue.

Fenrir Black wasn’t just another elite student. He was the younger brother of Fredric Black, CEO of Legion, one of the world’s most powerful conglomerates.

If anything happened to Fenrir, if even a scratch appeared on him while under the academy’s care, Fredric could and would make this entire institution vanish off the face of the earth.

Ms. Triss picked up her pace. Her job, her future, her life, could all be forfeit if she didn’t handle this carefully.

As she approached the classroom, she slowed, drawing in a breath.

She was preparing herself for the worst—Fenrir bleeding, furniture overturned, students screaming. She braced herself as she pushed open the door.

But what she saw was... the opposite.

Fenrir stood calmly in the middle of the classroom, completely unbothered, arms loosely at his sides.

The other boy—Lyle, one of the more entitled heirs in class—was crouched on the floor, cradling his wrist with a pale, tear-streaked face.

Around them, the other students looked shaken, but no one was speaking.

Ms. Triss blinked.

"What happened here?"

For a moment, no one answered. The tension in the room was still thick, students unsure how to respond, caught between loyalties and fear.

Fenrir answered for them, his voice low and composed.

"He attacked me first. I just defended myself."

He said, nodding toward Lyle.

Several students nodded immediately in support, eager to avoid being dragged into this mess.

"Yeah, he used his system first."

"Mr. Black didn’t do anything until after."

"He grabbed Fenrir’s shoulder too."

Ms. Triss let out a silent breath of relief. Thank god.

"Very well. In that case, this ends here. No punishments will be issued. Let’s consider this a... misunderstanding."

She said, schooling her face into something neutral.

She hated how her voice trembled slightly at the end. She hated even more that she was afraid of what Fenrir would do.

It was terrifying to realize she wasn’t in charge in her own classroom anymore.

But Fenrir just looked at her blankly and said.

"Fine."

Then he turned and walked away, completely uninterested in dragging the moment out. The students parted like the sea before him, none daring to block his path.

Ms. Triss watched him go, tension still sitting heavily on her shoulders. She knew she’d been lucky—this time.

If Fenrir had decided to press the matter, even slightly, she might’ve had to choose between punishing a Black or risking public outrage from another influential family.

It was a no-win situation she barely escaped from.

As the door closed behind Fenrir, the class finally exhaled. Murmurs started up almost immediately.

"Did you see that? He broke Lyle’s wrist without even activating a system!"

"Is he even awakened?"

"I heard he went into a dungeon recently. A-Class. Alone."

"No way. That’s just a rumor."

"But he didn’t even flinch. He just caught that fire punch and—crack—wrist gone."

The stories grew wilder with each retelling, facts morphing into legends in the space of minutes.

"I heard he’s already ranked A-Class."

"Really? I heard he’s actually S-Class but hiding it."

Ms. Triss closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as the gossip grew louder.

She didn’t know if the rumors were true. She didn’t want to know. One thing was clear though—Fenrir Black was not someone she could afford to underestimate.

And neither could the rest of the academy.