Chapter 23 – Classroom of Irregulars (Part 4)
The classroom door creaked open.
Zane turned slowly, barely lifting his chin from his hand. His eyes met the figure entering the room, and his brow arched in quiet surprise. There was no mistaking that face—the girl from yesterday.
'That girl… Rinaya.' He blinked once. 'She's in the same class? That's quite the coincidence.'
The reaction from the rest of the class was instant and electric. Conversations halted mid-sentence, and every pair of eyes turned to the newcomer as though the room itself held its breath. Even Damian, who still had his hand clenched around Zane's collar, froze.
"Rin…" he muttered, voice stripped of its usual bravado. As if emerging from a trance, he released Zane's uniform and stepped back, his stare locked on her like she was the center of the universe.
Rinaya surveyed the classroom with narrowed eyes. She didn't speak at first, scanning the tense atmosphere. The disheveled desk, the students' uneasy expressions, the way Damian loomed too close to Zane—it all painted an obvious picture.
"What's going on here?" she asked, her tone firm.
She hadn't expected to walk into a scene like this. The noise from the hallway had only hinted at a disturbance, but this? This was far more than typical student squabbling.
Then her gaze landed on him—Zane—and she faltered for just a second.
'Zane…' she thought. 'He really came?'
Though she had urged him to return to school yesterday, she hadn't seriously believed he would. Yet here he stood, calm, composed, unbothered by Damian's aggression. And oddly enough, seeing him there stirred something she couldn't quite place. Was it relief?
It was a nice feeling, and yet she didn't like it one bit.
'No… not now. Focus.'
She took a breath and stepped forward, schooling her face into its usual neutral expression.
Damian, of course, tried to recover first.
"Good morning, Rin." His voice was smooth again, a smile pasted on like a mask. "We were just talking. That's all."
"Talking?" she said, eyes narrowing. "Don't insult my intelligence. Go back to your seat."
Her tone cut through the tension like a blade. For a moment, it seemed like Damian might argue, but instead, he clicked his tongue and looked away.
"Tch… Fine." But his glare found Zane again, eyes burning with a silent promise. 'This isn't over.'
Zane simply raised a brow at him, unimpressed. 'He's already unraveling. Good. It won't be long before I completely break his mind. I wonder how he will turn out when he ends up feeling true fear for the first time.'
Rinaya turned to Zane next, her voice more hesitant. "And you… Zane, take your seat."
Zane didn't even blink. "Was going to do that anyway," he replied casually, pulling his desk back into place and sitting down like nothing had happened. He rested his head on his palm again, eyes half-lidded in feigned boredom.
Rinaya stood there for a second longer, staring at him. That tone. That demeanor. It wasn't the same boy she remembered.
'Something's different about him… Not just the way he talks, but his eyes too. Like he's… watching everything.'
"RiRi?" One of her friends tugged gently on her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Huh? Oh… yeah. Let's go." She gave Zane one last look before walking off, her friends trailing behind her.
Zane watched her from the corner of his eye. He didn't need to look directly to feel the gravity around her—how every student either admired her, envied her, or feared being on her bad side. She had presence, that much was obvious. A very strong presence even amongst these exceptional students, and that said something.
'She's got the attention of this whole place. Not surprising. Even in my last life, someone like her would've stood out. Dare I say turned into a celebrity worldwide.'
With the classroom returning to its semi-chaotic normal, Zane pulled out his tablet and resumed reading the digital textbooks. He scrolled through the pages, scanning through formulas, theories, and historical summaries.
To his quiet surprise, most of the material was familiar. In fact, it was nearly identical to what he had mastered in his previous life. A hundred years of technological and educational evolution, and yet—
'There's barely any difference. The scientific knowledge hasn't changed at all. No new breakthroughs, no major shifts in understanding… It's like they've stagnated.'
He flipped through another page, frowning. He was searching for any complicated concepts he hadn't read about before or even any new discoveries that the past hadn't achieved yet. But... Nothing.
'Either the disasters and mutations truly set humanity back, or… someone has actively stopped progress from happening.'
Before he could go deeper into thought, the classroom door creaked open again. This time, a tired-looking man strolled in—overweight, unshaven, wearing a crumpled shirt and loose tie that suggested he'd fought with his wardrobe and lost.
"Alright, everyone. Sit down, sit down." The teacher placed a stack of old folders on his desk and rubbed his face like he'd just woken from a nap.
Zane looked up briefly. The man matched the exact type of instructor he expected to find in a place like this—burned out, overworked, underpaid.
"I've got some announcements before we begin," the teacher said. "Your injections are scheduled to begin in three days."
The room erupted immediately.
"Injections?"
"Already?!"
"Finally! I've been waiting for this!"
"It makes sense—it's almost graduation. Took them long enough."
The teacher sighed, already tired of their noise. "Quiet down. You can talk about it later. The convoy arrives the day before. Attendance is mandatory. I don't care if you're dying in a hospital bed—be there."
Zane remained still, but his ears perked up. 'Injections? What do they do? I can assume it has something to do with awakening, but I can't say for certain. Could it be that it will finally unlock the rest of my system?'
Zane hadn't forgotten about the locked parts of his profile, which included 'awakening' and 'mutations', and he wondered how those would activate. But if things were as he assumed, this event could be the one responsible for that.
The excitement from the rest of the class was clear. Some students looked nervous, but most of them were buzzing with anticipation.
'It's likely connected to mutations—either a suppression treatment or, more likely, an awakening catalyst. Perhaps they're artificially triggering abilities? That would explain the need for supervision and the timing around graduation.'
Still, he didn't have enough data.
'I'll need to dig deeper into this later.'
"Quiet, everyone. Alright," the teacher grumbled, shuffling through a printout. "Roll call time. Say 'yes' when you hear your name."
One by one, he read through the list, students responding in turn. Zane quietly listened, committing names to memory. The classroom was full of irregularities—some quiet, some loud, but all felt… abnormal in subtle ways.
Eventually, the teacher reached his name.
"Zane Vicro—huh. That kid probably didn't show up today, right?"
"Here," Zane replied simply.
The teacher's eyes widened, caught off guard. He peered over his glasses like he was making sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"Oh? You're actually here?"
"Yes."
The teacher paused for a long moment, then gave a small nod. "Well then… Welcome back, boy. It's been quite a while."