The campus was alive with energy, split across five massive athletic grounds. Fields A, C, and D were dominated by intense football matches, while Field E hosted tennis, table tennis, and volleyball games.
Field B drew the largest crowd of the day. Ethan's class had just secured a decisive victory in the tug-of-war, drawing loud cheers from the bleachers.
Jogging off the dirt pitch, Ethan walked over to where his family was standing. His mother, Selena, had a bright smile as he approached.
"Mother, I didn't think you'd make it," Ethan said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Selena offered a gentle nod. "You put on quite a display of strength out there."
"Brother, where's Madison?" Daisy chimed in with a cheeky grin.
"I'm not entirely sure... I think her match is still going on over on Field E," Ethan replied.
"How did you manage to get away to come watch?" Ethan asked, turning back to his mother.
"A friend of mine has children attending here as well, so I tagged along with her," Selena explained smoothly.
Ethan nodded. "I have to help the team move some equipment, but at last, I have one final race."
"Do your best," Selena replied warmly. "I'm going to look around for a bit, but then I'll have to take my leave."
Ethan paused. "Where are you heading?"
"There's an urgent matter I need to attend to," she said quietly.
Before Ethan could press further, Daisy stepped up with a confident nod. "Don't worry, Ethan! I'll show Mother around the grounds."
Ethan smiled, patting Daisy's head gently. "Thanks, Daisy."
He turned and ran off toward the equipment shed, a faint tug of disappointment lingering in his chest.
I really wished Mother could stay to watch my race...
Up in the spectators' gallery, Beast leaned against the railing with an amused grin. "Well, that was an effortless win."
"Ethan's class made it look easy," Benson agreed, crossing his arms.
Beast chuckled. "Yeah, well, Henry is their class advisor after all."
Benson turned to Beast, his brow furrowing. "Speaking of Henry... what is he honestly doing here teaching high schoolers? Shouldn't he be back at—"
Benson abruptly clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Spoiler alert," Beast said smoothly.
"What?" Benson frowned.
"You'll figure it out soon enough. Just wait, for now—it's not the right time to reveal anything," Beast advised, his tone growing serious.
"He's on an active mission. I think... that's the only reason he left his post... to be here."
Benson let out a breath and nodded in understanding.
Suddenly, the loudspeaker crackled to life.
"The Tug-of-War match between Class 3-A and Class 3-H is about to begin. All participants, please step onto Field B."
Beast and Benson shifted their attention back to the dirt arena. Beast's eyes narrowed as his gaze locked onto the lead pulling position for Class 3-A.
"That kid... the masked boy who was with Jake. So he's in Class 3-A?" Beast noted.
"Yeah, that's him," Benson confirmed. "His real name is Chris."
Beast's expression shifted, a flicker of deep contemplation passing over his face.
Chris...? Where have I heard that name before? It sounds familiar...
The referee blew the whistle.
Before Class 3-H pulled with all their might, Chris anchored his heels into the dirt.
Chris's class wasn't budging, Chris was in front.
Then, with a single, terrifying display of raw physical force, he yanked the rope, dragging the opposing team completely across the mark in one second flat.
The crowd erupted into stunned applause.
Chris... Beast thought, narrowing his eyes as he studied the masked teenager.
I've definitely heard that name somewhere... but I can't quite place it. Where did I heard that name?
Alice's voice echoed across the central speakers.
"CONGRATULATIONS TO CLASS 3-A FOR AN ABSOLUTE VICTORY!"
She paused before continuing, "Dear guests and students, we will now take a mid-day break. Please take this time to visit the food stalls located at the rear of Field B. Events across all fields will resume shortly."
As the spectators began filing toward the vendor stalls, Beast turned back to Benson. "Where did you hear that his name was Chris?"
"From Madison, Murphy's daughter," Benson answered, standing up. Seeing the sharp glint in Beast's eyes, he added, "And she heard it straight from Jake."
Beast relaxed, his usual playful demeanor instantly masking his thoughts. "Right, well, setting those mysteries aside... let's go grab some fried chicken before it sells out."
As they walked toward the food pavilion, Beast kept repeating two names in his head.
Jake... and Chris.
Meanwhile, over on Field E, Madison was locked in an intense tennis match against a prominent heiress from another prep academy. The rally was relentless, but with a sharp cross-court placement, Madison secured the winning point by a hair.
Exhausted but triumphant, both girls exchanged polite nods at the net before heading off to grab lunch.
By afternoon, the festival reached its grand climax under the bright midday sun.
A student announcer stepped up to the main microphone on Field B.
"ATTENTION EVERYONE! WE HAVE ARRIVED AT THE FINAL EVENT OF THE DAY: THE 100-METER DASH. ALL PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE COME TO THE TRACK ON FIELD B!"
The bleachers were completely packed. Alice and Lucas sat together at the back row, enjoying snacks while Madison and her friends cheered from the middle section.
Down on the clay track, Ethan stretched. A white headband marked with Class 2-H was tied securely around his forehead.
As he took his position in his assigned lane, Ethan glanced across the track—and froze.
Two lanes over stood the masked boy.
Ethan's eyes narrowed into a sharp focus.
Chris? So, he is here? But where is Jake? In fact, I haven't seen Jake around the entire grounds today.
As if sensing the gaze, Chris slowly turned his head. Behind his dark mask, his eyes met Ethan's.
BANG!
The starter pistol fired, and the runners exploded off the line.