Luka didn't know how to react.
He could tell Harkel didn't want to talk about it—and honestly, Luka understood why. If you wanted to become king of your clan, you had to be willing to put your life on the line. Not just your own life, but the lives of others as well. And most of the time, you did it with barely any assistance at all.
With that unspoken understanding between them, the two boys made their way into their homeroom.
As soon as they stepped inside, Luka noticed the strange order of the classroom. Rows of students were already seated, but not randomly.
The highest numbers were seated in the back.
The lowest numbers—the ones who had scored the best on the entrance exam, mainly the combat portion—were in the front.
Weak in the back. Strong in the front.
That's how it worked here.
Luka found an empty seat near the front and tried to sit down—but before he could, his wrist was grabbed.
When Luka looked up, he saw a boy staring down at him with nothing but disdain.
"You need to get your weak ass to the back," the student said coldly. "Only people with low numbers sit up here. So get moving, weakling."
Luka frowned.
For some reason, his eyes drifted to the boy's wrist. He expected to see a double-digit number. Maybe low triple digits. Hell, even a single digit wouldn't have surprised him with that attitude.
Instead, the number 512 glowed on the wristband.
It confused Luka.
The guy wasn't exactly low-ranked himself, yet he spoke like he was untouchable—like he was one of the single digits.
Luka clenched his jaw. Even so, he knew better than to argue. The difference between them was still massive. He was nearly three hundred ranks lower.
So Luka said nothing and walked away.
"I want this seat. Move."
The voice was sharp and familiar.
Luka turned instantly.
Harkel stood there, blue hair bright against the dull classroom, staring the student straight in the eyes.
"You want this seat?" the student scoffed. "Then come and—"
He was cut off when another student tapped his shoulder.
"What?" the boy snapped.
"Look at his wrist," the other whispered.
The moment the student glanced down, his face drained of color.
99.
The boy gulped and immediately stood up.
Harkel calmly took the seat.
"Luka," Harkel called, tapping the desk beside him. "Sit right here."
"But—"
Luka was about to argue, but one look at Harkel told him it would be pointless. The guy wasn't taking no for an answer.
So Luka sat down.
He could feel eyes burning into him from all directions. Some of them felt sharp enough to kill.
Harkel felt it too.
Suddenly, he stood up.
Without hesitation, Harkel walked toward the front of the class like he owned the place—like a teacher stepping up to address unruly students.
"I'm going to make this clear right now," Harkel said, his voice calm but firm. "I'm not letting you guys bully my friends like people did in previous years."
The room went silent.
"If you try," he continued, "I promise you won't enjoy what happens next. Some of you seriously need a reality check."
Harkel glanced around the room.
"So what if you're stronger than someone else? That doesn't mean shit when there's always someone stronger than you."
He pointed to his own wrist.
"I'm ranked ninety-nine. I'm not even the highest in this room."
His eyes sharpened.
"So to all you triple-digit idiots who think you're the top of the school just because you're higher than someone else—come see me. I'll gladly show you why you're still triple digits, and why I'm not."
The room erupted.
"Yes, sir!" nearly everyone shouted in unison, like soldiers responding to a general.
Everyone except Luka.
Harkel nodded once, then casually returned to his seat. When he sat down, he gave Luka a thumbs-up, his entire demeanor shifting instantly back to relaxed.
"You know you didn't have to do that," Luka whispered.
"I wanted to," Harkel replied. "They needed to hear it. Besides—"
He smirked.
"You're my friend."
Friend.
The word echoed in Luka's head.
We've only known each other for a day… and he already calls us friends?
Luka smiled faintly to himself.
You're a strange guy, Harkel.
He held out his fist.
"Thanks… friend."
Harkel bumped it without hesitation.
"No problem."
The classroom door creaked open.
A woman walked in, her eyes droopy, dark bags hanging beneath them like she hadn't slept in weeks. She shuffled to the front of the room and yawned before speaking.
"I'll make this quick," she said lazily. "I don't want to do this shit."
The class stiffened.
"Welcome to Sigil Gate Academy. Name's Volx. I'm your homeroom teacher."
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Volx," the class said in unison, trying to sound respectful.
"Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too," she muttered. "Look—honestly, homeroom doesn't really matter. It's basically a briefing class. If there's important info or something you need to prepare for, I'll tell you."
She shrugged.
"Otherwise? Skip it. I won't care. I'll still mark you present."
That alone shocked the room.
Then she held out her hand.
A sleeping bag appeared out of thin air and dropped onto the floor.
She crawled into it without another word.
"What the hell…?" someone whispered.
"That's her evolved ability?" another student scoffed. "Is she even qualified to be a teacher? That doesn't seem very strong."
The sleeping bag shifted.
Volx sat up, eyes half-lidded.
"Every evolved ability is dangerous," she said flatly.
Her hand moved—and a water bottle appeared midair, falling toward the ground. Before it hit, she caught it effortlessly.
"My body stores things," she continued. "Where? Don't know. Pocket dimension, maybe. Doesn't matter."
She took a sip.
"I can store weapons, supplies—anything. If a weapon breaks, I pull out another. If my group runs out of supplies, I've got them."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"So yeah. Maybe it's not flashy like yours. But it's useful. Sometimes more useful than any of yours."
With that, Volx laid back down and immediately fell asleep.
Harkel stood up.
"Looks like someone's got a fragile ego," he muttered, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" Luka asked.
"You heard her," Harkel said. "This class doesn't matter unless there's a briefing. And she's definitely not briefing anything."
He grinned.
"I'm hitting the vending machines. You coming?"
Luka was at his side instantly.
He didn't trust the room without Harkel nearby—and judging by the looks people were giving him, that was the right call.
As they walked down the hall, Harkel broke the silence.
"So… why?"
"Why what?" Luka asked.
"Why were you so quick to join me?" Harkel said. "I know Leo's reason. I can guess Jordan's, Joey's, and Riven's."
He glanced at Luka.
"So what about you?"
Luka looked down at his feet.
"I'm doing it for my family," he admitted. "You see, my father—"
"Oh," Harkel cut in. "Daddy issues, huh? Join the club."
"…is dead."
Harkel stopped walking.
He closed his eyes.
"…Shit. My bad. I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," Luka said quietly. "The fool got himself killed."
There was sadness in his voice.
And anger.
"Hey, you shouldn't say that, man," Harkel said quietly, gripping one of the boy's shoulders. "That man was your father."
"Yeah, it's just…" Luka exhaled slowly. "He kept talking about what I needed to do when he died—how I'd have to take over the family, how I'd need to provide for them. I knew it would happen someday, but what I didn't expect was—"
"Him to die so soon," Harkel finished.
"Yeah." Luka let out a dry chuckle, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Honestly, I thought he was immortal. I thought he wouldn't die until I was, like, fifty."
His expression darkened. "I guess he knew it would happen one day… but why did it have to be months before the academy started? I barely had time to mourn."
He clenched his fists.
"Now my mom's alone. Me and my sister are split up, which means we're all alone in our own ways. It's just… not a good year for us."
Luka looked away.
"So I thought… if I stick with you and this whole goal of becoming king or whatever—if I help you—maybe I can get my mom out of the walls. Let her relax for the rest of her life. Same for my sister."
He swallowed. "And in the process, I can get stronger. Strong enough that they can sleep without fear or discomfort."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"So, yeah. Long story short… I'm kind of using you."
"Heh."
Harkel laughed as they reached the vending machine. "On the contrary, I'm technically using you guys for my own goal too."
He turned, flashing Luka a wide grin.
"So why not? Let's use each other and accomplish our goals together. What do you think?"
Harkel paid for both of their drinks and snacks, and the two sat down on a bench just inside the pool area. From where they sat, they could see students wandering in and out—some by the water, others heading deeper into the academy grounds.
It made them realize how many students had left homeroom early, choosing to explore the academy… or maybe even the city beyond it.
"So," Luka said after a moment, glancing at the blue-haired boy beside him, "do you truly think this system is the key to making you king—and making us stronger?"
"Yeah. I do," Harkel replied without hesitation.
"After I got my vision, I started looking into all kinds of RPG games. If Riven's system is really based on those kinds of mechanics, then yeah—I truly believe it's the key to reaching the top."
"Hey, Harkel."
"Yeah, Luka?"
"I have two last questions." Luka hesitated. "First—becoming king of the Voss Clan. Is that your only objective, or do you plan to do something after that?"
"Like what?"
"Well," Luka said slowly, "you'd be leading a clan that could rival one of the great factions. After all that… what would you do with that kind of power?"
Harkel leaned back slightly.
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I think it's better to focus on one goal at a time instead of piling too many into my head."
"Fair," Luka said, finishing his drink and stretching his cheek a little.
"Okay… second question. This one's kind of embarrassing."
"Go on."
"Can you teach me the basics of a system?" Luka asked. "I want a better grasp of what we're dealing with."
"Sure," Harkel said easily. "There's nothing embarrassing about that. Honestly, the whole thing is pretty weird, so I don't blame you."
With that, Harkel began explaining how an RPG system worked—stats, levels, progression, and growth—breaking it down in the simplest way he could.
Harkel and Leo were only the beginning.
These six students' friendships would truly bloom—allowing them to stand together through thick and thin.
And this…
This was one of the very first steps.