The Chancellor's office was vast, smelling of old leather and expensive mahogany. Chancellor Vance sat at the center of the long conference table, flanked by senior professors who looked on with weary expressions. Louise sat among them, though he felt a world apart. He was staring at his hands, his mind a whirlwind of Jacob's threats and the violence he had just witnessed.
In front of the desk, the two rival groups stood like opposing armies. Ethan and his fraternity brothers lounged on one side with arrogant indifference, while Albert and his friends stood on the other, bruised but defiant.
"Ethan!" the Chancellor barked, slamming a folder onto the table. "How many times must I tell you? When you are on this campus, you and your gang are students, not thugs. Every single time you step foot in a lecture hall, you find a reason to spill blood—usually with Albert."
Vance then turned his burning gaze toward Albert.
"And you, Albert Rev. How many times must I have this conversation with you? You are our top academic student. You are the star of our sports teams, the leader of our clubs. You are the face of this University! Prospective students apply here because of the reputation you've built. You are a model for everyone..."
The Chancellor leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss.
"But your rivalry with Ethan is making this institution a laughingstock. Since your freshman year, the two of you have turned this campus into a battlefield. You've driven away half a dozen brilliant professors who couldn't handle the chaos. I am tired of it, Albert. I am exhausted."
The room went silent. Albert clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed on a point on the wall behind the Chancellor's head.
"If this continues," Vance roared, "I will debar every single one of you! I don't care about your scores, Albert. I don't care about your popularity. If you don't make it to graduation, it won't matter how high your GPA is. Don't do anything stupid now. You are in the final stretch—don't throw your lives away over a petty grudge."
The Chancellor sighed, waving a hand toward the door. "Now, get out. All of you. Go back to your classes. And Ethan—if I hear you've skipped another lecture, the consequences will be permanent."
"Yes, sir," Ethan muttered, a shadow of a smirk still playing on his lips. His gang followed him out, their heavy boots thumping against the carpet.
Albert's friends moved toward the exit, but Albert hesitated. He turned his head slightly, his eyes searching for Louise.
Louise didn't look up. He was completely zoned out, his eyes vacant as if he were staring into a dark past. He looked fragile sitting there among the older professors—like a porcelain doll that had already started to crack.
Albert wanted to say something, to apologize, to tell him he was only trying to protect him—but the coldness of the room and the weight of the Chancellor's words held him back. With one last lingering look at the man who had become his instant obsession, Albert turned and walked out.
After the students filed out, the office remained heavy with tension. Chancellor Vance looked at Louise, his expression softening into one of pity.
"Professor Louise Stone? Are you... alright?" the Chancellor asked cautiously.
Louise blinked, pulling himself back from the edge of his thoughts. "Oh... yes. I'm fine, Sir. Just a bit overwhelmed for my first day."
"I am extremely sorry that your morning began this way," Vance sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It's only for a few more months. Once they graduate, they'll be gone. Please, don't let them get to you."
"But Sir," another professor chimed in, looking frustrated. "That class is a virus! Even the students in our department are starting to fight like them. They are ruining the discipline of the entire University."
A murmur of agreement went around the table.
Louise looked up, his brow furrowed. "Excuse me, Sir... but why is it like this? Why are Ethan and his gang allowed to act like thugs? Can't they just be students?"
The room fell into a grim silence. One of the senior professors sighed, pulling off his glasses.
"Ethan's situation is tragic, Professor Louise. His family is dirt poor. He only has his mother left, and she is bedridden, dying slowly. He tried working part-time to pay for her care, but the bills were too high. His father died leaving a mountain of debt on their house. If the house is sold, Ethan and his mother will be on the streets."
The professor leaned in, his voice dropping. "To save his mother, Ethan started working for the local dealers. He dragged his friends into it to help pay off the debts. Now, he's trapped. He and his gang are involved in smuggling and drug distribution across the campus just to survive."
Louise's eyes went wide. "What? They are smuggling with students? Who are these people they work for? Can't the police—can't anyone file a report?"
"Professor Louise," another professor spoke up, his voice trembling slightly. "You are new to the city, but you surely know how an Oligarchy works. The law doesn't apply to the people at the top. Even the President chooses his words carefully when dealing with them. No one dares to file a report because no one wants to disappear."
"Who..." Louise's voice was barely a whisper. "Who is the leader they are so afraid of?"
Chancellor Vance looked Louise straight in the eye, his voice heavy with a fear he couldn't hide. "The head of the Oligarchy. The man who holds the debt of half this city and the fear of the other half. His name is Roman Stone."
The air in the room seemed to vanish. Louise felt a cold sweat break out across his neck. His hands began to shake violently beneath the table.
Roman Stone. His own father. The man who had sent him here with a "promise" of honor. Louise felt a wave of nausea. He wasn't just a Professor; he was the son of the monster who was systematically destroying his students' lives. He knew his father was a man of immense power—he knew the Stone name carried weight—but he had never seen the "dirty" side of it. He didn't realize his father's reach strangled the lives of kids his own age.
"I... I see," Louise stammered, his voice thin. He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. "Excuse me, Sir. I need to get to the Faculty Lounge. I'm... I'm very tired."
Without waiting for a response, Louise practically ran from the office. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt like the walls were closing in. He had come here to be a teacher, but he was walking through a graveyard his father had built.