I had imagined something dark.
A place like a medieval fortress—cold, dead, suffocating.
What stood before me was nothing like that.
"Surprised?" Blocking smirked.
"Yeah," I said, not taking my eyes off the building. "This is really your academy?"
We were in a neighboring city.
An ordinary residential district—not too crowded, not too quiet. A few department stores nearby. A small park in the distance.
And the academy itself—
was just a three-story building.
No signs.
No markings.
It looked like a large private house squeezed between taller buildings.
And somehow—
it fit.
Too well.
We stopped at a plain wooden door.
Blocking opened it and gestured for me to go in first.
For a second, I was sure it had to be an illusion—that the inside would twist into something rotten, something closer to what I expected.
It didn't.
Modern.
Clean.
Wide central hallway. Sofas. A massive TV mounted on the wall.
There was even an elevator.
"Student rooms are on the third floor," Blocking said. "First floor's for downtime. That door—" he pointed to one of four along the wall, "—is the dining hall. Showers are upstairs too. I've already told them you're coming. Go. They'll settle you in."
Something was wrong.
Too normal.
Way too clean.
Had I been wrong?
Then why wouldn't that feeling go away?
Like something was watching.
Waiting.
The elevator doors slid open.
I stepped inside—
and instantly dropped into a fighting stance, power snapping out.
Twelve.
Four girls. Eight guys.
Three I recognized from the exhibition matches.
"The newbie's here," Scott Roy smirked. "So? Like your new home?"
"My academy is Gordinstreet," I said coldly. "I'm here temporarily."
"We'll see," one of the girls said, grinning.
"If you last," a massive guy added, baring his teeth. He towered over the rest.
"Roy, what was his element again?" he asked.
"Fire," Roy said, smile stretching wider.
"Should've bet on a week," one girl muttered.
"Week?" another snorted. "Look at him. Three days, tops."
I stayed tense, power coiled tight—
waiting.
But no one moved.
No one attacked.
Slowly, I let it fade.
"What bet?" I asked.
"How long before you drop," one of them said with a crooked, ugly grin.
He looked wrong.
Not just the expression—
his teeth pushed out against his lip, barely contained.
"I'm not planning on dying here," I said.
A laugh.
Low.
Mocking.
"None of us stay dead," another guy said—the gray-haired one. Young. Calm. Too calm. "But dying here? The regeneration? You'll wish you didn't come back."
"…You're all demons?"
"Yeah," Roy said. "Not all purebloods. Like you."
"Come on," he added. "Dump your stuff. You won't be needing your room."
I followed him.
Different looks.
Curiosity.
Malice.
Indifference.
But underneath—
the same thing.
Expectation.
Like they were waiting for something.
Waiting for me to break.
"So," Blocking said lightly, "what do you think of my students?"
We were gathered around the dining table.
I looked at them.
Silence pressed in.
Heavy.
Wrong.
"They meet expectations," I said shortly, setting my fork down.
The food wouldn't go down.
"I'd suggest you eat," Blocking said, smiling. "Your first training starts right after."
"I'm not hungry," I said. "Where are the teachers? Do they eat separately?"
It felt off.
Him sitting here.
With them.
"They are the teachers," he said, nodding toward them. "And me."
A faint smile.
"In my academy, you grow by tearing each other apart. Who better to teach you than the ones trying to kill you?"
I nodded.
Slowly.
Demons.
Or half-demons.
That alone had been enough of a shock.
I hadn't known they could reproduce with humans.
Turns out—they can.
Once.
Maybe twice.
No one knows why.
At least they can't flood the world with their kind.
Half-demons grow like humans—
until they reach the age their human parent died.
Then they change.
Abilities awaken.
They become something else.
Useful.
But the most important part—
half-demons heal like humans.
And they can't have children.
Which means they're easier to kill.
If you know where to hit.
"So," I said, "what does the first training look like?"
"As agreed," Blocking said, "we teach you control."
A pause.
"And force your abilities out."
So—sparring.
That part was familiar.
But these people—
they weren't.
I only knew Roy's abilities.
The rest?
Nothing.
Maybe that was the point.
"This is more like it," I muttered, looking around the basement.
Blocking had brought me down here with the gray-haired one.
Greenly.
"Glad you approve," Blocking said. "Greenly—he's yours."
Then he left.
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him.
No windows.
Stone walls.
Chains hung along one side.
Not decoration.
Not even close.
Instead of proper lights—torches.
Dim.
Uneven.
Suffocating.
While I took it in, my opponent leaned against the wall, lazily picking at his nails.
When I looked at him, he finally spoke.
"Greenly, right?" I said. "So what—sparring?"
"My element is water," he said instead. "Perfect counter to your half-formed abilities."
A faint, almost bored smile.
"If you can handle me, good. You'll suffer less."
And then—
he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Power burst out of him—like warped glass, shifting, bending, wrong.
I reacted instantly.
Slipped to the side.
Released my power.
"No," he said, amused. "That won't help you."
A step closer.
"Use your fire."
He came again.
I knocked aside the warped shard and lunged forward.
The fire was there.
I felt it.
Alive.
Moving under my skin.
But it wouldn't come out.
So I kept fighting.
Strike.
Block.
Again.
Again—
"…Yeah," he sighed. "This is boring."
Then—
his power spread.
Wide.
Filling the entire room.
Closing in.
No gaps.
No escape.
And slammed into me like a wall.