He plugged in his earbuds and started reviewing.
The footage was sorted by location and time, organized by the algorithm he'd written to flag conversations containing certain keywords. His name. The Maxtons. The Legacies. Anything related to the social hierarchy that had made his life hell—now making theirs a living comedy.
The first flagged clip was from Wednesday. The day after his transformation.
Brett and Anderson, huddled in the corner of the senior lounge like two rats plotting to bite the cat that had just grown claws and a bad attitude.
After listening he chuckled—low, dark, the sound of someone who'd just realized the bullies were now the ones checking under their beds.
So, they're planning something. Just haven't figured out what yet... if it was what I'd expected them to do or something stupider.
Good to know.
He kept scrolling.
