《Seven Star Prison》


 A shut-ins embarassing capture.

    Who''s raiding the place? Police, The Bureau, the Men In Black? All my young mind understood was that columns of charcoal black vehicles had suddenly drifted into my motel''s parking lot. A normal guest like me didn''t want any of that. Basic timing saved me from running into them. It was the periphery of my vision which captured a brief glimpse after exiting the room. Quietly, I went back inside.


    Before the incident, I was planning to catch a late-night snack. At a vending machine downstairs. It was a godsend, providing daily cheap eats consisting of plastic wrapped bread, cookies and chips. Some nights I splurged on dinner, frozen pizza from a convenience store a short walk from the establishment. Regular people would believe my diet was lacking in¡­nutrients. Compounding the malnutrition, I usually disregarded exposure to sunlight. The tone of my skin could be considered zombie-like. At the very least I practiced daily hygiene, but still¡­My parent''s honor has been disgraced many times over the course of a month.


    Dropping out of school, eating sloppily, playing games all day and lazing around. Any parent of mine would be dissapointed in just how slothful their only child turned out to be.


    Whatever, something really big was about to go down. Police or whoever was responsible, were going to bust down a couple of doors. However, it was not my problem if law enforcement dished justice on some criminals. I just had to hunker down and ride out the whole ordeal.


    I had bigger matters to attend to, besides worrying about the police. I''m Christian Friedd, the only child of a well-off couple. The two of them weren''t uber rich, but my parents were nothing to scoff at. Both spent more time wooing international elites than they did in my childhood home. So, I grew up into a sheltered person. As I became older, the flaws of lousy parenting showed up. I started skipping school, sneaking back home to chill all day long. But¡­at the coming of spring, that family ceased to be.


    It''s fine. I''m not traumatized or anything. When it happened, I knew the time had come. The shock from hearing about the accident gave its way to a quick coming of age story. Unexperienced as I was, I honestly did believe a strong enough kick could make me a mature adult in matter of minutes. I made the choice to live a free life.


    I sprung to action. Or a horrendous catastrophe would have taken place. Recently orphaned, my relatives were prepared to take me in. An aunt or uncle would have adopted me into their household. To explain why that was problematic, my family, the Friedds¡­are mostly a bunch of wannabe oligarchs. If I hadn''t fled home, I would have been forced into fighting my cousins. Didn¡¯t speak much to them in the first place. But warring in a power struggle to see who inherits the family¡¯s wealth was not to my liking.


    So, I took my own inheritance early. Simply, I sacked my childhood home, loaded to the brim with treasure. The closets were stacked with valuable items, ready for a steal. Fine jewelry from Europe, the latest flagship electronics and a diverse array of foreign currency bills. All those were pillaged in less than a day. Finally, my parents had a knack for giving unusual holiday presents. Whether it was my birthday or Christmas, there were no giftboxes, wrapped in colored paper. It always was some new investment asset. Something I could place under my wealth column, according to them. Actually, spending from my financial account was a no go. But I found the blessing of cryptocurrencies to be the cure to my main problem. My escape wasn¡¯t going to fly under the radar. In time, the Friedd family was going to search for me.


    What did I have that stacked up against them, with almost unlimited resources? Spare cash and untraceable virtual currency. The get rich quick scheme of stealing anything that wasn¡¯t bolted down to the house landed me a small fortune. I found it easy to run away. As long as I took the required precautions. Even as my family sent Private Investigator goons to chase me, I fled without a trace. Ending up in a shabby motel room, on a desert town a few pegs away from being a Ghost one.


    Regarding my sleeping arrangements, I wasn¡¯t picky if there was a quality connection to the net. That cruddy motel was the only place where a minor could stay indefinitely without the staff giving it second thoughts. Or questions, as long as the cash flowed.


    Honestly, it was really the proper place for a SWAT team to barge into. But who cares? I had my games to play. If I managed to hold out until becoming a legal citizen, far from the clutches of the Friedd name. If I had achieved that, my dream would have been realized. Making an honest living out of gaming and slacking. Not delivering homework to increase that day¡¯s kill-to-death ratio was proper training. Of course, my goal was dismissed time and time again by every adult I knew personally.


    The usually quiet locale got noisy to an unbearable degree. Crap, those guys are a nuisance. I couldn''t focus on the zone. Anyways, where was the element of surprise? Boots went stampeding through the stairs, and the audio cue grew closer to my location.


    Wait¡­Am I the one being swatted?Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I turned towards the entrance and it didn''t came crashing with an explosive display of violence. It was simply knocked on. The soft thuds were more ominous than frightening.


    I stepped up from my chair and shouted at them. "Go away! I''m not interested in visitors."


    Yet the door surrendered open, without offering resistance. I had made sure of tightly locking the deadbolt. Despite that, the entrance was wide open. The visitors barged in, 10 people or so. The first to enter were two teenage students, a girl and a guy, both my age. They wore navy ties embellished with a big, bright white star outline at the endpoint. Wine colored blazers atop dress shirts. The school I used to go to, had drastically different uniforms. Since they were strangers with no connection to me, I tried to shoo them with grace.


    "Wrong room folks. I''m not the guy you are looking for."


    "Denied." The girl said.


    I would later find out her name, Reyna. I don''t believe I will ever be able to forget it. Just by themselves they weren''t intimidating. It was the heavy cavalry they had brought with them. The men who had raised a racket at the halls. The ''soldiers'' had come out of a historical reenactment. They carried swords inside ornamental scabbards. And they dressed in antique military attire. I knew fantasy when I saw it. Those men and women fitted right in. Needless to say, they defied my expectations of guns and bulletproof vests.


    My parents were supposed to have died in a freak accident. But everything could happen, when they had many enemies. For all I knew, it could have been those guys. Who somehow found their way to me. Their sharp weaponry frightened me, but I wasn¡¯t unarmed either.


    "Mr. Friedd. You are now under the custody of the Seven Star College."


    I heard all sort of groups, police, some drug cartel or even terrorists. I couldn''t believe that a school could bust into a motel carrying lethal blades. Noticing I didn¡¯t get the gist, Reyna mocked my intelligence while repeating the name.


    "College? What the hell are you doing in here? That''s not how you greet someone."


    "It''s a welcome party from Seven Star''s Student Council President. A warning, she''s normally rude to outsiders¡­and insiders. On the flipside, I''m the Council Vicepresident. I would like to speak with you. Like¡­civilians." He jabbed at his partner, with the last sentence.


    A school''s Student Council? I didn''t believe the people carrying sabers were students. The President, her VP and their own private army. What kind of Student Council has a security force?


    The Vicepresident, in general, had a frail aspect. He was slender and didn''t manage to inspire half the fear in me that her opposite sex partner did. She carried herself pretentiously, like my Friedd relatives did.


    "So¡­you come up to my room. Scare me shitless a-and you tell me you are a pretty princess and a good boy. Taking me to High School? I refuse! School is useless for someone like me. I''m never going to need any of those math formulas or useless facts in my career! They are nothing more than trivia!"


    I resolved they had to go back. Like I said, I wasn¡¯t defenseless. I pulled open my desk¡¯s drawer where I stored my super special attack. An ultimate move discovered when I found a stun gun on Dad¡¯s wardrobe. I''m not a legal expert but surely it must be ilegal for a minor to possess such a weapon. But I pulled the trigger, and electricity arced from terminal to terminal.


    "Zap, zap! This is self defense everyone!" I waved the stun gun at them.


    The soldiers unsheathed their short swords and prepared to strike. I wasn''t a fool; this plan was all a ploy. I planned on dropping the device if things failed to de-scale. No one was going to chop me into bits and gibs.


    "The school prohibits its students from wielding assault weapons. By pointing that at us, you are in infringement of the College¡¯s rules.¡± She said.


    "But I''m not one of your students! I''m exercising my rights in my private property."


    "Reyna, fix it or we won¡¯t be able to take him." He said.


    "Giving me orders? I can think for myself, thank you."


    "It is only a suggestion. But I do ask if you may have mercy on him."


    "Fine." She turned towards me. "Drop the weapon. Or it will get ugly, as a matter of fact."


    I refused to let go and lose my chance to bluff through. I ain''t scared of kids. The soldiers on the other hand. Were practically almost at my neck. They closed in on me.


    "I was merciful and sensitive, Otto. The new student rejected it with much rudeness. Take him away!"


    Sharp blades advanced on my position. Was that her mercy? Fearsome. It made my will to fight evaporate. I dropped my weapon. As the stun gun hit the floor, my hands went up in the air trying to display good behaviour.


    "Now you want to come with us?"


    "Yes-yes. I will."


    "Too late. You already misbehaved. As Council President my duty is to discipline students. Or to phrase it better. Rough you up to keep you in check."


    On the floor, the stun gun started its electrical arc. No one pressed the trigger, but the air zapped with tens of thousands of volts. It didn''t make sense.


    "Seven Star is an institution for special, unique people. Be grateful we are making you join our community."


    Special? You can say that about anyone. My mockery changed once I saw the stun gun floating in the air. Its prongs aimed right at my chest. It took its sweet time to move inches away from me. I tried to flee the painful destination, but I couldn¡¯t dodge. Whichever force lifted the weapon sent me down on my knees. I had no way of running, as much as I struggled for freedom. I was about to get fried.


    I pleaded. "I''m all yours, I will become a great student. The highest grades! Just stop, stop it!" Reyna didn''t stop. "Basta, you smug whore! Don''t do it! I surrender!"


    Reyna was, indeed, a hopeless bitch. Who schocked me into paralysis. Then released me, so I could fall to ground like timber. One of the soldiers pinned me down. He shifted around in my pockets, stole my smartphone and my wallet. Another one handcuffed me. Using those plastic strips that are disposable.


    Officialy arrested, I was thrown into a limo like a sack of potatoes. Carried away by the soldiers. Which had dragged me out of the hotel room. If anyone had saw me, she or he would believe that my sobbing looked, and sounded, pathetic. The kidnappers started the engine without disclosing where they were taking me.

 Seven Stars F-Class. Part 1

    The limousine and its escort rode away to the College. The familiar small town where I had spent my firsts days of freedom was visible through the vehicle¡¯s windows. It was a brief sight, as the rural settlement was pretty insignificant. Right when we entered the highway, arid grassland made for scenery. Equally, the stiff handcuffs and the stressing silence contributed to make me more than uncomfortable. And unwelcome, on that ride.


    Me, and the Student Council staff all lacked driver¡¯s licenses. They seated across me, on furnishing which can only be compared to an actual leather sofa. The boy was the first to speak, introducing himself as Otto van Rosenvelt. Knowing my quirks, I wasn¡¯t going to remember his last name, at all.


    ¡°It may not be to your liking. But things are how they are. Starting this night, you are gone from the system. Missing. Without trace.¡±


    ¡°Those are strong words coming from a teenage schoolboy.¡±


    "You don''t get it. It is incredibly important." Reyna interrupted.


    I do get it, thank you very much. This College situation got me out of my family troubles. At much more worse consequences.


    ¡°Start by telling me your effing name. Otto already introduced himself.¡±


    ¡°Sigh. Reyna, President Reyna. You must have a lot of questions to ask.¡±


    ¡°To the point! Of course, I do. Skip the rhetoric.¡±


    "I''m the one giving orders o else¡­"


    "Or else what?"


    "I didn¡¯t bring your stun gun, but we could use the car''s battery if you want."


    She remarked it with a sadistic grin. My heart froze. To admit, she was talking about an excruciatingly painful experience. I swore on never reliving it.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Better? We made you the favor of¡­removing you from your deplorable conditions."


    "Reyna¡­" Somehow, Otto intuited her arrogance got on my nerves.


    "Christian. You have great power. A great responsiblity. A great danger to society. The President¡¯s power of psychokinesis. You too, have psychic ability.¡±


    ¡°Definitely weaker.¡±


    He was shooting daggers at her. They guy was only trying to complete his speech. I hated him too, but he hadn¡¯t attacked me or otherwise hurt me. Otto played the good cop out of the two.


    ¡°To ensure responsible and safe use of ESP, the College was founded. Every psychic has to go through it. However, I assure you I had no intentions of taking you in like this. No hard feelings?¡±


    ¡°Yes, there are. Deep breath. A magical school?¡±


    ¡°Parapsychology School.¡± Said Reyna.


    ¡°Magical School.¡±


    ¡°Otto, can I ask you to let me off the hook? Just this once.¡±


    He stayed put and Reyna retorted. ¡°The admission is completed. Take the paperwork and accept it. Even if you can¡¯t understand what is going on.¡± She wanted to pass me a stack of paper sheets.


    I turned my back to show them my hands, still tied. She cracked them remotely. What a broken skill. I received the papers titled ''School Admission''. After skipping most of the text I found a disturbing sight. My High School grades before dropping out. I had failed most courses, intentionally. With my grades, I was bound to repeat the entire year all over again.


    "Amazing schoolwork. Personally, I''m so proud of breathing the same air as you. A prodigy at failing!"


    I simply didn''t care for grades. There were other things more deserving of my time. But there''s always people who need to measure their worth based on arbitrary numbers.


    "With those grades¡­There is no place for you other than Class F. Not congratulations for getting assigned to the lowest tier."


    Otto explained how their system worked. Seven Star used my previous grades (Acquired from who knows where) to place me, the transfer student in their Class Tier system. I got F-classed, reserved for the College¡¯s worst students.


    With all that bureaucracy drivel entering one ear and leaving out the other, it didn¡¯t take long for me to considers more important matters¡­Concerning escape routes. I resolved that I wouldn''t survive dropping out of a moving vehicle. And if I did, these guys would rip me a new one. No freedom in sight. Utterly losing hope helped the tension loosen up. Right after the stress hormones stopped doing their thing, I noticed just how tired I had gotten. My weight shifted for more comfort and I slept until morning.

 Seven Stars F-Class. Part 2

    The glass pane where I rested my head felt cold to the touch. It was enough to compel me to open my eyes and push against the passenger¡¯s door. There was a weak sunlight, blocked by a thick mass of fog. The scenery had changed a lot. We went from arid, almost desertic to a cool a humid woodland. Clouds crawled atop the ground. I posses no knowledge on forestry, but I could tell a pine from an oak. Both species were present on the vegetation, along grass and shrubbery.


    I didn¡¯t want to take my sight off the windows. Seven Star¡¯s students were waiting for me at the other side of the car. Appearing to be asleep, I thought about my condition. A full night of travel. Depending on were we headed, we could have crossed the border. But that was all I had. Geography was one of the many classes I failed. No less than a major smartass could pinpoint coordinates out of their scenery.


    A dead stop took me by surprise, sending my body forwards. We had been traveling at unknown but high speed. Since I was so obviously rocked by the braking my act went under. Reyna and Otto, compared to me, were at an opposite orientation. They weren¡¯t as affected but the inertia. Reyna was still asleep, while Otto was reading a pocketbook.


    ¡°Psst. At your right.¡± I told him to look at his partner.


    ¡°What, something about her?¡±


    I didn¡¯t hate him as much. Refer to it as a small grudge. I wanted to hold at least small talk. "It would be great if she stayed like that, forever."


    He leaned back, his shoulders drooping. "Some of these days, I do agree-"


    Perhaps sensing the hostility, Reyna awakened. The first thing she did was to stare me down. No greetings, to neither of us.


    ¡°Can we stop for the bathroom? I want a chance at escaping.¡± My eyes rolled sarcastically.


    ¡°Resounding no. We¡¯ve entered the mountains. They make for the ESP community¡¯s largest site. The schoolgrounds are only minutes away. And that¡¯s all you are going to see of the complex.¡±


    Complex? The limousine stopped at a few checkpoints. All scattered throughout the mountainside. The SUV joining our convoy, left us. So, it was a complex, a large one. Covered by a strange fog, located in seclusion and with heavy handed security. The idea of a High School placed there was simply sketchy.


    ¡°I took a lot of care to hide myself. And besides¡­Where did you hear of me? We aren¡¯t related nor have I ever known about your crowd of psychics.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    My relatives, who definitely gave a good shot at finding me failed to do so. How was I supposed to believe these people found my name, location and my gradebook from my previous school? On which evidence are they assuming me to hold psychic power? I¡¯ve never done anything remarkable. It¡¯s my first hearing of it. Assume everything is possible.


    ¡°A psychic power to locate espers. Who owns it?¡±


    "It was me, Otto. Able of locating our kind."


    "His family has handed down that power since centuries ago. Psychic inheritance is uncommon, but it happens.¡±


    Well, I imagined he could do something flashier. I saw him a new set of eyes. The mention of lineage made sense. He had a sort of finesse fit for a noble.


    "The fog ends here. This is Seven Star College." He said.


    "Walk the rest. Get those legs working for something purposeful."


    "Reyna. We can do the favor of transporting him. Your rude attitude towards Class F has made the Council unpopular with them."


    ¡°Cut it Otto. Fifty percent of Class B and downwards dislikes us. Jealousness much?¡±


    They had differing and incompatible opinions. I weighed my options, walking or staying inside the car.


    "I''ll go myself, thanks Otto."


    ¡°Get going, first period will start soon.¡±


    I¡¯m going, to scout the front door of the place. Thinking it was going to be useful in the future. I had decided to flee ASAP. But somehow, I needed to stop Otto from tracking me. Hiding my intentions, I took my documents and exited the limo.


    Greeted by the fresh mountain air, it was pleasant at first. Until it sapped away my bodily heat, comfortably warm from the limo¡¯s heated seat. The road was paved with pieces of cobble. And like Reyna said, this area didn''t have any fog. There was a clear separation. Their limousine stopped parking and went off. I was skeptic of them leaving me like this. When they had made such a big deal of capturing me.


    But they disappeared. At the other side of the sloping road. The hill blocked their sight. How could it be? Am I already trapped? I scanned my surroundings and the clear divide of the fog became something to be wary of. It seemed artificial. More like a barrier than an atmospheric condition. It had the texture of a cloudy pancake, but it was a wall. With yellow and black warning stripes taped on the road.


    Is there any security around? We had passed many checkpoints staffed with those anachronistic soldiers. But I stood alone there, only accompanied by the woods. The documents I was holding. I placed them out of the way.


    Plant debris dotted the sides. The forest was sparsely populated. I picked up a medium sized branch, about three feet long. It had fallen off and I used it for a quick experiment. I poked at the wall, driving the stick into the cloudy barrier. The branch sank halfway, and it started smelling off-putting. An acrid, revolting odor permeated the air. It made me jolt the stick out of there. The half that entered the fog was charred, most of it had dissolved. Ashes rained towards the soil. My heart skipped a beat, when restarted it revved up to an uncomfortable rate. The branch crumbled as my trembling shook it up and down.


    I stopped caring about disposing the evidence. What happens to those who try to leave? The College was a prison. Whoever owned it, preferred for my body to be disintegrated rather than allow me outside. I grabbed my papers, perceiving them differently. That Letter of Admission made official my incarceration.

 Seven Stars F-Class. Part 3

    After getting to the top of the hill, I saw the Main Campus. An arrangement of edifices in neoclassical design. With how much Reyna had hyped The College¡¯s history I found it easy to swallow the idea of most of them being that antique. I could see the entire campus from the vantage point but counting them all would have been an absolute chore.  Their facades were stylized yet functional and gardens large enough to be noticeable from far away. It was a bid to sell people a singular concept. That Seven Star was a prestigious institution.


    I got closer, glad that I chose to take the scenic route. I didn¡¯t go out much which made it seem like a vacation. The situation may be grim, but not utterly terrible. It can even be a fresh start.


    A bright green sign stopped me. The sort usually seen on roadways. ¡®Class F Campus.¡¯ A white arrow painted on the sign indicated another direction. The main road forked into one going to the Main, nice campus and a trail hidden away. Or rather than a fork, the road continued straight on, with the other path shoved aside. An unpaved trail, descending the mountainside. There was no gardening effort because overgrowth creeped in. It urged in me to go back. But I marched on. Using great care to keep my feet grounded.


    After a long descent Class F¡¯s hidden campus came into view. And the conditions were¡­deplorable. The buildings were run-down. Apparently, the architects took inspiration on the attractive shapes of concrete blocks. Big parts of their paint were in the process of peeling. As I ventured inside, I noticed lacking security. The soldiers who manned the checkpoints were missing. It didn¡¯t take long for me to feel unsafe. My civilian clothes caught the attention of the students roaming about. Most of them were delinquents, evidently. That fact was reflected in thick steel bars covering the windows is almost every edifice.


    I was the only lacking a uniform, the same design the Student Council members wore. Since they had let me go without hinting where my class was, I had to search around. Eventually, some folks who didn¡¯t look like delinquents helped me find my way. Dead center on the campus was the school building. To my surprise it wasn¡¯t outrageously crappy. A regular school. But compared with the other campus¡¯ architecture, it was a downer. Being fair, I had no right to complain. Studying at an elite school did not stop my tendencies of shutting in and avoiding hard work. These days, I can put on effort. But only that which interests me.


    Lucky me, I arrived last. Including the teacher, it appeared as if everyone had been waiting for me to show up. I didn¡¯t know if they had been made aware of my arrival. Whatever the case, I was stared at by the class. It wasn¡¯t a long time since I had set foot on a classroom, but it felt distant.


    ¡°E-excuse me.¡± Moving with my nerves tightly stretched, I found a seat at the back. Where I felt most comfortable. However, the attention placed on me didn¡¯t waver. To this very day, I hold on to the idea that schools¡­are a hunting ground where introverts are at the bottom of the food chain. Me? Not only was I as introverted as they come, I was borderline antisocial. After the long silence they returned back to gossiping or whatever high schoolers did. Tried to not interrupt them. Not getting chewed into new guy mince meat was my main priority.


    "You forgot to introduce yourself. Young social butterfly." Holding an attendance list, the teacher called me out. To describe him, he looked fed up with life. His dress shirt was in dire need of ironing. For holiness¡¯ sake, even the instructors are low grade.


    Teacher had called me a social butterfly. But I could only see myself as a sort of roach. The silent type who doesn¡¯t want to be stomped on, so he hides wherever he finds refuge.


    Since it was the instructor who told me to introduce, I stood up. ¡°Hello guys. Name¡¯s Christian. I¡¯m a regular nobody.¡±


    "Regular nobodies don¡¯t end up in Class F. Friedd, you and all present, are problem children."


    It made sense, judging by the decoration. Steel bars hung outside the windows. Shadows were casted onto the tiled linoleum.


    " My name is Alan, your homeroom teacher. And the only teacher this group is getting. Everyone, greet your new classmate."


    "Welcome Christian." They chimed. Unnaturally, as if someone had pressed a button.


    That was the last time my peers directed their words at me. For the first day. But as I learned later, there was a reasoning to it. All students have to get their psychic diagnostic. After the class ended, Alan escorted me to the infirmary. Following the instructions of the male nurse working there, I crawled inside a machine. Very similar to an MRI scanner. While daydreaming on the chance of my head exploding due to operator, the machine performed averagely. Brain scans and all sort of medical data were showed on TV screens. Something off about the infirmary, it looked proper. Did all this Campus¡¯s budget go into treating wounded students? The thought made me shiver.


    ¡°Results say you have a healthy, working brain.¡± Are you sure about that? ¡°However, you¡¯re highly stressed.¡± That¡¯s more like me. ¡°Also, results are positive for psychic abilities. Vice-president Otto was right again.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°As he always is. Have we ever seen him miss the mark?¡± Said my teacher .


    With my eyes rolled, I questioned the nurse. ¡°And where are those psychic powers you people speak of?¡± The nurse bluntly hit my kneecap. Not the sort of reflex tests a physician applies. Nurse smashed mine in a painful way.


    ¡°His amplifier had no reaction¡­¡± Alan said.


    ¡°Amplifier? I kicked with all my strength as soon as I felt the blow.¡±


    ¡°Correct Professor. There were no observable effects.¡±


    ¡°Why am I being ignored here?¡±


    ¡°Aah, yes. Give it to him Alan.¡±


    ¡°Your Student Identification. Freshly printed. And digital too.¡±


    "A student ID?"


    "That, and an ESP booster. So, you may master your abilities without going through a year of training.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t the College supposed to teach me exactly that?¡±


    ¡°No. You are to learn how to use them responsibly. Whether Christian Friedd is allowed to develop proper ESP technique will be decided at the end your studies.¡±


    "This is a diagnostic. Once amplified, natural reflexes manifest ESP power. At least until you learn basic control."


    ¡°The lack of reaction rules out the vanguard or specialist roles. Seems he is a support type.¡±


    "Hit harder!  I don¡¯t want be a support." Life in the College meant being surrounded by espers. Reyna had beat me badly and I wanted to at least own a respectable ability. If not, it was going to be a horrendous experience. In my experience, nobody appreciated the role of the support class.


    They were disappointed. ¡°Can¡¯t walk away from your lot in life.¡±


    My head sunk. Complying with all their instructions was only so I could discover my extraordinary ability.


    ¡°I can¡¯t agree to that. The Student Council¡¯s President can lift people in the air and choke them. How will I defend myself?¡±


    ¡°Kid, this isn¡¯t Star Wars. Miss Reyna is President for a reason. She is very capable¡­And we espers look down on murder. No one¡¯s going to choke you to death.¡±


    As he spoke, some orderlies rushed a bed down the hallway. His nose bled on the pale green sheets. It reminded me the teacher had said death. Fights between Class F¡¯s students must occur often. The nurse left us without notice.


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it. Patients are a regular sight around here. The staff knows almost all the students¡¯ names. They¡¯ll give him a cold soda, some paracetamol and he¡¯ll be off to studying.¡±


    What is up with this High School?


    "It will be fine, really. Now show me what you got. Since you are a support¡­buff me.¡±


    I already understood what a support role meant. At least for today I paid attention in class. Teams of espers are called triads. They consist of a Vanguard, a Specialist and a


    ¡°Tutorial?¡±


    ¡°Just do it. The ID handles it.¡±


    Nothing ever happened. Regardless of how hard I tried. Teach guided me on how to project ESP, so I did everything I could. Great, I¡¯m a defective esper.


    ¡°There, no power. Can you return me already?¡±


    ¡°If the Vice-president¡¯s ability and the scientific test say you have ESP. You have it. I believe¡­there are activation conditions. It¡¯s not usual but it¡¯s plausible. In support types, it tends to manifest as requiring a contract or bond with the target.¡±


    ¡°Does having requirements make ESP more powerful or special?¡±


    He shook his head. Damn it.


    ¡°Take note. Your assignment is to find out your ability. Or else you can¡¯t participate fully on my class.¡±


    "Do I really? I''ll prefer it if you just assign me the homework you left the others.¡±


    "No, discover your talent first. That is your one and only assignment. And it is graded.¡± He took out his own ID card. ¡°You should get going. And a recommendation¡­don¡¯t stay outdoors after the sun goes down.¡± He specified directions for my student residence. Close by the entrance to the campus.


    I hurried to get there before nightfall. But I got interested in the plastic card. My picture, taken without consent and the usual, boring details. Aside from that, numbers and stats were printed on it. The data titled ¡®Academic Credit¡¯ grabbed my attention. The number was a hundred, but I had no idea what that meant. Another, residence number matched the one on a certain door plate.


    The ground floor¡­at least one good thing happened today. But how do I enter without a key? The entrance was well protected with metal rods. I had to swipe my ID on an electronic lock, the sort you can find on a hotel. Maybe there¡¯s a roommate. When I flicked the light switch it turned the apartment turned out empty. And it only had a single bed. Cardboard boxes were scattered in many places.


    We broke off into our separate ways. I searched which building had been assigned to me. It was one of the student residences by the campus entrance.


    I celebrated that the exterior number matched the one on my ID. No need to climb stairs. By swiping my card on an electronic scanner, the door fence with metal bars, opened. I flicked the light switch. Someone cleaned the place before my arrival. Also, there were moving boxes everywhere in single room studio. A standard, small apartment.


    The boxes resting atop the bed stored clothing. Some with College¡¯s uniform. But others, held clothes worn¡­closer to the skin. Even sleepwear. What happened to my clothes? Weren¡¯t the SUVs supposed to carry my belongings? They probable went inside a trash container.


    I checked the kitchen. A hot plate next to a minifridge. Cheaply made table with chairs for dining. Placed on the plastic table were more moving boxes. One of them contained kitchen accessories, cutlery, dishes, a pot and a non-stick pan. The other one was more eye-catching. Red lettering spelled SCLAP, printed on the cardboard. A face had a text written on it.


    ''The Student Committee of Logistics And Produce donates this staple pantry box. Students like you procure foodstuffs according to your Class Tier and Academic Credit. SCLAP performs weekly deliveries to your residence. Following deliveries will not be subsidized. Join SCLAP and feed Seven Star''s thriving community. B-class students onwards.


    So, I¡¯m not fit to join them. I peeled the packing tape and the contents were disappointing. Rice, sardines, legumes, salt, etc. I stored the salt with great care, in order to not drop it. Imagine if my bad fortuned worsened.


    ''According to your Class Tier and Academic Credit.'' I recalled the text.


    Academic Credit. My ID displayed ''100'' of those. The class tier part was self-explaining. Class F student get the worst pantry. Even though I hadn¡¯t eaten at all, I had no appetite for the box¡¯s contents. I experienced spending the College¡¯s currency by purchasing on a vending machine. Five credits for a biscuit. After showering, I ended that day going to bed. My school life, among the psychics. Began the next day.

 The First Link. Part 1

    Back pain was a terrible way to start the day. I''m guessing that a school that treats its students like dirt isn''t interested on purchasing new mattresses. ¡®They are handed down and are as ancient as the College itself¡¯. If someone told me that, I would believe them. On the bright side, waking up early was a breeze. I practically jumped out of the bedding. Following that, the morning routine which I drilled daily got to resurface. Despite my best efforts to bleach my memory of my previous schooldays, the algorithm was kept intact. It had survived the time when I could get out of bed whenever I got bored of sleeping. Now that I''m back at studying, it''s a damned alarm clock. Not to mention the thing can''t be reprogrammed. So, each morning, at 7 AM, an alarm rang.


    I washed my face. And at the mirror, there was the face of someone whose body was fed up with the bare minimum diet. Over by the kitchen, ¡®fresh produce¡¯ waited for my hands to prepare breakfast with it. One by one, foodstuffs were taken out of the box. A huge roadblock existed between them and me. My skill at cooking was practically non existing. Heck, my home economy skills were almost zero. I imagined how the apartment was going to look in a few months. An absolute disaster of disrepair and filth.


    To prevent that, something must be done. Even I, had limits. Very relaxed limits. So, I was going to get the bare minimum standards for the minimum amount of effort. Which I call being efficient.


    Frankly, this is a problem other people are faulty for. Back at home domestic employees kept everything in top shape. And I could have three meals per day. Looking at the week¡¯s pantry, I doubted I could prepare an excess of two daily meals. Diversity wasn¡¯t there. I scrambled the cans, jars and bags to notice which breakfast options were available.


    A can would be easiest, right? I picked up a can of sardines. The notion of eating them can be considered a disgrace to the Friedd name. I did enjoy such a prospect. Yet, I didn¡¯t savor the unfiltered smell of the fishy fillets. The open can was thrown inside the miniature fridge. Though it was too late for the room¡¯s ambient odor. Not this. Not alone. So¡­rice? Rice is a staple food of many cultures. People even ate it for breakfast.


    After trying to read the packet¡¯s instructions, I felt an urge to rip it apart and scatter the grains on the floor. The lovely people working food delivery had gone out of their way to procure imports. With their instructions and nutrition data written in foreign language. Judging by the strangely shaped characters, the bag came from the other side of the ocean. Are they doing it to save money or just to spite students? My stomach rumbled, ordering its master to stop the complaints.


    The answer to my food trouble came in the form of a ringing doorbell. She was dressed in a frilly maid outfit. One which was sewn by hand, probably by its owner. The black fabric had a sleek contrast with the pearly whites. All I could compliment. Everything else reeked of do-it-yourself. It was more of a costume than a functioning uniform. I have to admit, her maid act gave me specks of self-guilt.


    "Hello Neighbor! It smells funky in there. Are you in need of a maid?" She referred to the lingering scent of sardines.


    "How do I cook rice? My only interest lies in cooking rice."


    "Uh? Water level over the grains, cover with a lid and cook it with gentle heat. Are you in need of a maid?"


    ¡°Big thanks, you are a life saver.¡±


    Goodbye. I almost shut the door on her, almost. She had acted on a whim and tried to peek inside my residence. Which resulted on her head being squashed by the closing door.


    Thank you. I took a few steps backwards and almost shut the door on her. On a whim, she tried to stop me. But her head, got squished on the way, blocking me from closing. So irresponsible.


    ¡°Good thing I didn¡¯t slam it. You would have died from a concussion.¡±


    The maid imitator had a lost, confused expression. Did she suffer actual head trauma? The nurse here seems to be pretty skilled¡­


    "Didn¡¯t your parents teach you not to enter strangers¡¯ homes¡± If she even has parents. These days orphans are like¡­in vogue.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "I''m h-here to prom-mote my s-services." She wasn''t able to speak properly.


    When I freed her, she gasped to the max of her lung capacity. It took a while to recover her breath.


    "I clean the homes around here. I''m the only one who does it, but I don''t charge that much. Just a little."


    "Academic Credit?"


    "Yep."


    She had confessed she was cheap despite having a monopoly on cleaning services. With monopoly involved one assumed that her fees would be quite high. Unfortunately, adolescents with really bad grades didn''t care for tidiness. Lump me in with them.


    "I don''t get you. Browse your surroundings. Who would give the slightest turd about such a derelict environment?"


    "You do have a point. Once upon time, this maid asked faculty if we students could cooperate to paint our residences. But they wanted to sell us the paint at ludicrous price. A whole pile of credits."


    How¡­depressing. Meeting her had changed my perception on Class F''s student body. They weren''t a crowd of delinquents. They were poor, we were poor.


    "I''m short on credit. But I''ll keep you in mind."


    I was as useless in cleaning as I was cooking. My motel life did include a maid service. It may be useful, at a later date.


    "It''s normal for new arrivals. It will get better! By the by¡­You already took the test, right?"


    "Don''t remind me¡­"


    And I had to explain the whole story. About my activation conditions, that teacher Alan had assigned me to find my esper ability. Actual homework was less intellectually demanding. If one could get homework while in a boarding school.


    "I won''t be of use to you. I''m also a support." That you are support type is pretty obvious. "Tough break, to join a triad with those activation conditions of yours. But hold on,


    despite all hardships."


    "Ah¡­Thanks for supporting me."


    The maid¡¯s recipe turned spot on. So foolproof, that even after messing the water ratio, breakfast was very edible.


    It took me quite a while to finish preparations for class. I had to rush to the classroom. After going up the flights of stairs, my energy exhausted. But when I expected a forgettable entrance, I happened to be the center of attention. My classmates were entirely focused on me. They demanded me to share my diagnostic results. I didn¡¯t want to confess something as laughable as ¡®ESP coming soon.¡¯. However, peer pressure won the day and I told them what happened. All the hype quietly died. For being honest, I was rewarded with rejection.


    Citing my teacher, my role is to provide support for other espers. For homework, I was obliged to find a willing test subject. Who could pass a finicky activation check.


    ''You don''t seem useful.'', ''Sorry, team''s full.'', ''Support? We need a buff guy fighting on the frontlines.'' I had my doubts anyone would have wanted to help me. But it was colder than I imagined. Was it right to judge them negatively at the time? If anything, well put together team compositions fascinated me, since success depended on team balance. My skills were still an incognita. So, taking me on was a leap of faith. A burden. I wouldn¡¯t have taken me in either.


    Defeated, I paraded towards the back of the classroom. Where I slumped into my desk just to use the surface as a pillow. I pondered on my bleak state, on this school prison. Why did my life had to get shredded like this? Can I return everything back to how it was? This ESP isn''t doing anything for me. I knew all that self-pity was unhealthy, but I kept going, hooked in the opioid of victimization.


    It took an embarrassingly long time for me to notice her. She had to knock on my head, to pull me out of my ranting.


    "You sleepy?"


    "Depressed." That''s how I compacted my feelings. Packed into a single word.

 The First Link. Part 2

    It is true that her sudden appearance drew my curiosity. My slouched body rose away from the desk¡¯s surface. All the emoting I performed had blurred my eyesight with viscous tears. It forced me to blink repeatedly, flushing out the stickiness. The sharpened senses identified a uniform. The person stood like a tower. A modest number of inches taller than me.


    When our eyes met, I resented my display of behavior. I had just attempted to communicate with my peers. Failing that, had brought out habits corresponding of a loner. My experience with friendship was sparse, in real life. Online was slightly better. First impressions did matter, I understood.  A classmate had spared me some goodwill, but I responded like a true pessimist. Fixing it was required. At the depths of my psyche, there existed an emergency supply of friendliness.


    ¡°G-Good morning. You are?¡±


    ¡°Filiel. Sorry for barging at an inconvenient time. I¡¯ll return.¡±


    ¡°¡­I regret that.¡± Then I introduced myself.


    ¡°I came looking for a brief meeting. Will you?¡±


    I nodded and she motioned me to follow. Class was about to start. She drew out a chair for me. Placed next to the window, one large enough for me to jump out of. May¡¯s morning sun made its way through the steel bars and reflected on the floor tiles. She preferred this spot the most. And accommodated herself on the next seat. She was leaning over the backrest, but it seemed our teacher did not mind a pupil showing her backside towards him. Whether he was cool with it or just negligent.


    ¡°When I transferred over to Class F, I had a tough time as well. If you ever need a hand, say the word. I cover almost everyone with their homework.¡±


    Another advertiser¡­


    ¡°So, do you deal in homework cheats?¡±


    Her hand went over her lips. ¡°Cough. Coursework Merchant.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    A sound of creaking wood startled me. It bore the weight of a fat, muscular arm pushing down it. I had entered the crosshair of an F-Class tough guy. His threatening gaze made it certain. ¡°I enjoy the outdoor view¡­¡± He said.


    ¡°I¡¯m performing a cold prospect over here.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°My policy. Everyone knows it. Or did you forget that I don¡¯t help out brutes?¡±


    He looked displeased, but ultimately accepted it. ¡°Traded, the back row isn¡¯t bad either.¡±


    Traded? But I liked the back row. Far away from the teacher¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Sorry for that.¡±


    This person had impressed me, but it¡¯s not like I could copy and paste her homework and claim it as mine. Since my assignment was bringing out my ESP. "I would like to hire you. But you wouldn''t be able to help with my current task."


    ¡°Are you sure of that.¡± She smirked. ¡°I was a top of the line Class A student. Honor Roll. If you have anything over the level, I¡¯d pay credits to test myself with it.¡±


    ¡°N-Nothing as exciting.¡± I went over the story so far.


    ¡°From that, I only see that you need a test subject. I''ll make you an offer. We''ll team up and you''ll split your earnings fifty-fifty. Do you accept it?"


    Half of my credits earned. The day before, the teacher had handed a sparse amount of them to the few student who participated. The system was some sort of reward for good behavior. With ¡®defined¡¯ as in the College¡¯s best interests. If we could split those earnings, it meant trading was allowed. Yet her offer, seemed to be against me. Those credits are supposed to pay for my food.


    But thinking it through. Everyone else had already rejected me. I was unexperienced and for the moment, unpowered. Without an ability to distinguish myself. My family lineage meant teaching me entrepreneurial skills was at least attempted. So, I understood the poor position I stood. Negotiating a better deal was a pipe dream. But I still tried. My weak points were abundant. And she was a fierce negotiator, better deserving of the Friedd name than I did. I lost in the end. My counteroffers were rejected with logical statements. She knew what she wanted and kept stiff.


    How is she so good at it? I was just about to cave in, when my will to fight re-ignited. Who¡¯s this girl? What¡¯s her motive?


    ¡®Her objective is clear. You are an easy cash grab. Probably no one else would accept those terms.¡¯


    She intends to turn me into her cash cow? With her motive in the back of my head, I felt an awkward feeling of belonging. Before me was absolute greed. Something I despised in my relatives. Despite that, I started trusting. Only if I were the one to take the leap of faith, would I survive the College.


    "Your offer will do. On your terms."


    ¡°Deal.¡±


    ¡®That one¡¯s greed has established a Sinful Contract.¡¯


    An outsider had intruded our conversation. The Advisor had manifested.

 A Sinful Contract

    I had just accepted a deal to give away half of my academic rewards. The justification for it being that I had no useful powers. Immediately after, a voice belonging inside my head started talking.


    Coming to this school had made accept almost everything was possible. Can you present yourself, mysterious voice? I inquired my psyche. However, it was awkward to ignore the person in front of me. She was celebrating the fact she got what she wanted out of me.


    ¡®You accepted her terms.¡¯


    If you had appeared earlier, I¡¯d had more leverage.


    ¡®A contract was required first. This product of your mind may be called Advisor. The girl and you have bounded. Thus, unlocking use of Party Influence.¡¯


    Overly specific requirements¡­I laughed at what life had thrown at my face. But even if she had ripped me off, my ESP did surface. So, I must uphold my part. ¡°You actually did it. I can use ESP.¡± I told her.


    Her head tilted to the side. Maybe she couldn¡¯t believe it had been that easy. ¡°Good for you. But what does it do?¡±


    ¡°Aside from flowery speech. I do not know. Yet.¡±


    ¡®Ask yourself not what Advisor can do for you. But what you can do for yourself.¡¯


    Is it possible your speech is based on whatever I deem fancy?


    ¡®Indeed¡­Regarding your abilities, a demonstration works better than a speech about it. Someone with your personality doesn¡¯t exactly listen to their mentor¡¯s guidance.¡¯


    Whatever. I had competed my current mission. Teacher Alan would assign me actual coursework. Seated at his desk, he looked bored and unmotivated. His display of lethargy damaged the impression he made at the Infirmary. But complaining about it¡­would be hypocritical of me.


    ¡°Teacher. My job is done. I¡¯ve completed your assignment.¡±


    ¡°Right, right. Good job. I guess I can start the class now.¡± Alan scribbled the day¡¯s agenda on a dusty chalkboard. But after writing it, he looked at the chalkstone and back at the board. ¡°What did you do exactly Friedd. Can¡¯t remember all my interactions with all of you.¡±


    My jaw dropped. It was only a day ago. He had hyped me to discover my psychic powers. Then he forgets it? In Class F, even the teachers are third rate. ¡°Ahem. Professor Alan, you instructed me to uncover my ESP. Thanks to her help, I did so. Can we start progressing on the syllabus? ASAP. I will count the days until my graduation from this disastrous school.¡±


    ¡°How much did you pay Filiel?¡± An unrelated student asked. Others were interested in knowing it too.


    Confessing it, was a little embarrassing. Fifty was an outrageous cut. ¡°Half of every Academic Credit I ever earn. And working as her teammate.¡±


    My classmates had a look of wonder, as if they had discovered a precious stone. ¡°Filiel doing teamwork!¡± It didn¡¯t take long for them to rush us. They all polluted the classroom with noise. I distanced myself from them. However, she gladly received their attention.


    By then I had noticed our personalities were far apart. Friendly, good-looking and industrious. Those were traits I lacked. It must have been the reason why my Middle School experience was such a disaster. And my freshman year at High School¡­It bombed hard. Not that I liked education anyway. Maybe things would have gone differently if my parents hadn¡¯t enrolled me on an elite school. I couldn¡¯t meet their expectations.


    On the flipside, everyone here covets working with Filiel. But I¡¯m not exactly proud of what I had to pay.


    ¡°I said! The class was starting.¡±


    ¡°But-t Teacher¡­Teams. We all want to team up with her. Can you blame us?¡±


    ¡°To start¡­Filiel is a Vanguard role. And Christian a Support. That rules out two thirds of you. So, only Specialists have an excuse to bother me.¡±


    He was talking nonsense to me. I lifted my hand, but I didn¡¯t wait for approval. ¡°Teacher, you didn¡¯t explain that in yesterday¡¯s class. To give honest feedback, it consisted of pure filler.¡±


    Offended, Alan scrambled his desk¡¯s drawer for a ball pen. To my surprise, he bit down on it. My molars felt it. On more careful inspection, the pen had many bite marks. Teaching this class must be kind of stressful.


    ¡°Filler? Every now and then, I have to show off how much of an awesome teacher I am. You guys can¡¯t go around blaming me for your bad performance. Especially on my professor evaluation!¡± He threw the punished ball pen back into its drawer. Alan drew a triangle on the chalkboard. ¡°This goes for you Friedd. The triangle represents the triad. Going by statistical data, espers fit on three roles. Vanguard, Specialist and Support¡­¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    His explaining driveled for a while. Around a quarter hour of technicalities.


    ¡°So, to summarize all of that. A third of all espers has psychic powers that can play the Vanguard role. The same with the rest. Which is why we split ourselves in triads.¡±


    When Alan finished, the students turned up the volume. They had been discreetly chatting. But the one everyone fought over was silent. She got up, trying to appease the audience. ¡°Not today friends. I never said that I was building a triad.¡± Her message was received with disappointment. ¡°You set yourselves up. Next time, allow me to speak first.¡±


    I stomped the floor in excitement. This is how it feels! Did you like it? Filiel had delivered poetic justice.


    ¡°All my talk about teamwork was useless then¡­¡± Alan said.


    How bad of him to have wasted his time. Didn¡¯t matter to me. My thoughts went to the girl seated in front. ¡°My appreciation.¡±


    ¡°Respect is important. Bringing one of them in is a disservice to you. Like I said. I had a hard time adapting to Class F.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­¡±


    ¡°At first, I was desperate to return. But I found Class F to work better for my goals. I¡¯m not going anywhere else.¡±


    ¡°So, you have a Life Plan. Mine was run over by a truck. And this school¡¯s Council President sat behind the wheel.¡±


    If I stay here, I¡¯ll miss valuable years of grinding. As much as it weighted on me, I considered going back to the family. I could fail this school year, or the next one. At best case, my psychic education would take a year and a half. But much worse was that I had no idea of what Reyna did with my stuff. I suspect she disposed of everything.


    ¡°What are you going to do after graduation?¡± I asked what I was uncertain of.


    ¡°Get back to business. I always knew I would end up here. So, back home, everything¡¯s ready for my arrival.¡±


    Unlike me. As I was kidnapped. I remembered when Reyna or Otto mentioned something about esper bloodlines. Meaning not all students here are abductees. I mean¡­That Student Council could have been nicer.


    It was also nice that Filiel hadn¡¯t gotten the short end of the stick. Like I did. It was best to tell her what happened. I tried to be hush about it, so Alan wouldn¡¯t notice me talking in class.


    She stayed silent for a while. ¡°¡­You don¡¯t seem the Old Money type.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t talk to them much. But you¡­would have fitted like a glove. Don¡¯t you think we should have gotten each other¡¯s place?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t do anything about it.¡±


    ¡°Right. Now that you heard me out¡­What if we forget the credits business and I get you half of my inheritance? It¡¯s much, much better than the fake currency of this school.¡±


    She shook in negation. ¡°There¡¯s no evidence to corroborate your story. I¡¯ll take the credits.¡±


    A completely logical answer. She was in the right once more. But that won¡¯t go on forever. I didn¡¯t plan to stay at the losing side of arguments. Somehow, I was going to improve my lot.


    And if it¡¯s possible to escape. I¡¯ll be first student to do so.


    Seven Star College had every card against me. Secured facilities. Enclosed by a flesh burning fog. Guarded by its own private army. And an overpowered, overzealous Student Council. The security was impeccable. Yet, one of these days¡­


    But for now, I have coursework to complete. I may have lost track of the time, but the class went on.


    ¡°Is everyone warmed up? I had this class planned for yesterday. But as we all know it, a new student joined us. I know you guys prefer practice over theory. So¡­¡± He wrote and underlined ¡®PE Class.¡¯ ¡°To change things up. And our new arrival can break the ice with his ESP. Aren¡¯t I great? Be sure to write that in your teacher¡¯s eval.¡±


    ¡®Do not worry. Possessing an Advisor comes with a usability advantage. You will catch up to your peers without complications.¡¯


    I hope so¡­


    ¡°And I¡¯m not doing this because the Faculty ordered me. Off the record¡­I¡¯m covering for you. Since Filiel does most of you guys¡¯ schoolwork, the report sheets have become a little suspicious.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Teacher! I¡¯ll give you a thumbs up on the evaluation.¡± Said someone at the back.


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Alan responded. ¡°Now go get your stuff. See you outside the schoolhouse.¡±


    This class was something else. My classmates flurried downstairs. Descending the staircase was like traveling down clogged piping. I lost sight of Filiel, when the girls and boys separated into different rooms.


    I had entered the men¡¯s locker room. A place where talk happened, that no female should ever hear. The grid of lockers was immense. Mostly because it must hold the belongings of the other classes apart from mine. Remarkably, every door had a name tag and an electronic lock like the residence doors. Campus F¡¯s designer mixed high-end technology with ultra-low budget everything else. It was kind of cyberpunk.


    When I swiped my student ID, the door let out a cheerful beep. Not fitting for my opinion of the College. Anyways, my locker was stocked with PE Uniforms. I took one change and tried to mind my own business.


    But some others wouldn¡¯t let me. I wish I could tell that they had come to greet me. However, they had come to haze the rookie. Getting along with Filiel didn¡¯t help me fit in their pecking order. I guess some of them even had a crush on her. Thus, making me the victim of their pent-up frustrations.


    In such cases, it¡¯s best to ignore them. Well, regardless if ignoring them was really the best course of action, I would have done so anyways. It¡¯s my nature.


    ¡°Hold up.¡± The guy Filiel had shut down intruded the group. The one that wanted to recover his seat but ended up in mine. "Leave him be. If you go hard on him, he''ll blow the whistle." Whether he wanted to genuinely help me, or just mock me the others left me be.


    This event had helped me differentiate which guys I should actually talk to.


    I got the other uniform on. To be fair, it made self-conscious of my physique. The navy shorts were true to their name. My untanned legs were exposed for everyone to see. But I didn¡¯t have any complaints on the wine athleisure top. Top grade. In the end, these uniforms had the same color scheme as the other.


    After exiting, I hooked up with Filiel. Apart from wearing the same clothes, she had tied her long hair. As promised, the teacher waited for us outside the building. And he announced where we were going. The far edge of the campus, where the forest began.

 The Esper Phys ed Curriculum. Part 1

    The Seven Star College possessed two faces. Their enviable Main Campus. And the F campus, made for their undesirable students. Almost every piece of the system intended to remind F-class students of their status.


    Our trip began at the schoolhouse, a large building near the Campus entrance. We were going to exit the campus itself. The class traveled together.


    In the way, I noticed something remarkable. F Campus was much larger than required. Many ¡®residences¡¯ were vacant. As far as I knew, each residence had a name plate. Get far enough from the entrance, and the place becomes a ghost town. Aside from the fake housing, there were some plazas and facilities for sports and recreation. Though, they were empty at the time.


    Our convoy of second-year students arrived at its destination. The forest surrounding Seven Star College. I wanted to sight-see, but we weren¡¯t there for a break.


    Teacher Alan didn¡¯t spare me any time. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the instructions for this assignment. You are all going to race towards the school border.¡±


    By school border, he meant the corrosive fog. It was an incredibly powerful security measure. A product of some psychic ability. Possibly the peak of what rigorous training can achieve.


    ¡± I¡¯ll be waiting for you there. If you beat me, you¡¯ll get the grand prize. But since that won¡¯t happen, I¡¯ll tell you the rewards you¡¯re getting¡­¡±


    Alan would award fifty credits to each member of the winning team. Then, second place gets thirty each. Twenty for third place. And a meager consolation price of five credits for all participants. For a fair comparison, five credits will buy you an off-brand soda from a vending machine.


    What did my teammate think? Going by her expressions, she was aiming for the first place


    From what I knew of my teammate she would shoot for the top spot. She was someone ambitious, and that¡¯s not a bad thing. I also aimed for the first place. But I¡¯m not used to winning at anything, except for multiplayer matches. This time I planned on changing my track record. With the help of the top student in my class. Though her rental fee¡¯s expensive, so I better get those much-needed credits.


    My teacher waved at me, who was too self-absorbed to notice his instructions at first. ¡°Are you paying attention? Take a compass from the bag.¡± Apparently, each team would have a dedicated navigator. Why did he choose me? ¡°Go east. Be smart with your abilities and finish first. But before I give you the call¡­what¡¯s the safety rule?¡±


    Like I would know.


    ¡°No lethal injuries allowed!¡± The class responded as a group.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Pull your punches. Now go!¡± He didn¡¯t talk only to me.


    The race began. I dashed away from my starting position. My physique wasn¡¯t much, but I was going to make it up with effort. Besides, the other students frightened me. I didn¡¯t know what they could pull off. What if they duke it out right at the starting line? Fearing that, I fled as fast as I could.


    But no such thing happened. It took me a while to notice how silent the environment was. Filiel and I were totally alone. Were we running in the right direction? I checked my compass. Nothing was off. The competitors must have scattered. I was mistake. If we are fighting, the encounters would be small. And quickly dealt with.


    Filiel had decided to run at a comfortable pace. One which she could keep up with. Unlike me, she expected small skirmishes to occur further in the race. It was clear I couldn¡¯t sprint for much longer. She easily passed me. I¡¯ll say I¡¯m an average runner while she had obvious advantage over me. Her large height. Her strides were simply longer than mine. She noticed the difference in our aptitudes and allowed me to catch up.


    Since my speed wouldn¡¯t win the day, she requested me to use my abilities. ¡°I¡¯m ready to receive your psychic support. Whatever it is, we¡¯ll find a use case.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try. But nobody ever taught me how to use it.¡±


    ¡°You have your student ID on you? Its amplifier function makes it dead simple to use.¡±


    ¡°I heard so¡­¡±


    ¡®And your Personal Advisor comes up at just the right moment, taking you by surprise.¡¯


    Whoa! I¡¯ll never get used to that thing. It unnerved me.


    ¡®Are you not grateful of your Advisor¡¯s appearance?¡¯


    Possibly, but only if you make us win this race. I¡¯m in need of those twenty-five credits. Help please.


    ¡®¡­¡¯


    Aren¡¯t you duty- bound to me or something? Then help us win.


    ¡®I will summon your ability¡¯s interface. There.¡¯


    Something amazing happened. The ''Interface'' took over my field of vision. A colorful, tridimensional display overlaid my sight. It was dreamlike. Realistic enough to satisfy my exigent expectations for Virtual Reality technology. Best part? I could drive it at the speed of thought. If I only I knew how to use it. Instructions? I asked the Advisor.


    ¡®Go over to the girl. As a bonus for your Contract, you can develop a new ability for her. Party Influence works under a nodal system. Focus¡­and activate her upgrade node.¡¯


    Is this all I can do?Upgrade allies?


    ¡®If that were the case¡­what¡¯s the matter? This ability makes you companions better so they can work for you better. It is very slothful. But that¡¯s what you got.¡¯


    I¡¯m not sloth-. A bit. I did what Advisor recommended. Focusing on the upgrade icon, I unlocked¡­


    ¡®Filiel¡¯s Hardwall ability upgraded. Burst Counter unlocked. Proficiency improved.¡¯


    Hey. This is way too game-y to be real. Is this one of those rare conscious dreaming experiences? Because that would mean I was never admitted to Seven Star. That would be great.


    ¡®Completely, hundred percent real. As for the gameness of Party Influence. It¡¯s because of the nature of mind itself. A collection of one¡¯s experiences. But you won¡¯t find the¡­ whatchamacallit? XP points?¡¯


    XP already carries ¡®points¡¯ inside it.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The target of the upgrade didn¡¯t notice. ¡°Are you feeling anything new?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Nothing. Did you do something?¡±


    ¡°Try using your Hardwall ability. I think I buffed it somehow.¡±


    ¡°H-Hardwall?¡± Filiel suddenly stopped. She had an expression of unease.


    Somehow, I had startled her. What did I do wrong? I couldn¡¯t progress without her. Every second could mean defeat, but I had to figure out what happened.


    I was just about to ask. When she spoke. ¡°I never told you the name of my ability.¡± She fiddled. ¡°The power to defile the privacy of my thoughts¡­No, it can¡¯t be¡­Right?¡±


    I freaked out. ¡°No! It¡¯s not like that!¡± I could deny everything, but she wouldn¡¯t accept weak sounding explanations.


    The trouble for me was not knowing how to express psychic phenomena. All the fancy words my peers used sounded just like pseudo-science buzzwords. I considered telling her about the Advisor. Until I realized. Confessing I heard voices inside my head was a bad idea. Something unhealthy for my credibility.


    So...I winged it. ¡°Do you know videogames?¡±


    ¡°Who in this day and age doesn¡¯t know of them?¡±


    ¡°I guess my ESP works like a game system. Loosely.¡±


    ¡°I nicknamed my ability Hardwall. And your ESP extracted that.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t go any farther than that. Please trust me.¡±


    ¡®Personal Data such as Filiel¡¯s measurements can be computed from vision. The RGB hexadecimal code of her eye color, vocal frequency range¡­¡¯


    You are not helping my case. I¡¯d appreciate silence.


    I sighed, disappointed of the alien assistant installed inside my head.


    ¡°So, Filiel. Your ability¡¯s been upgraded with Burst Counter. The name should mean something to you.¡± Diverting the topic towards her was the best way forward.


    ¡°Counter¡­¡± The naming drew her curiosity in.


    She demonstrated her ability. To create forcefield barriers wherever she wanted. The ¡®Hardwall¡¯ would stay fixed in the air, telling gravity to shove it. A trivial factoid, the walls are of a calming shade of pastel yellow.


    ¡°This is my ESP ability. It¡¯s working normally. What did you do to it again?¡±


    ¡°Burst Counter.¡±


    ¡°The name sort of spoils it.¡± She tapped the surface, causing a reaction from the barrier. Sparks burst from it. A counter force pushed her back. Most promising, was her control over the repulsion force.


    ¡°You are pretty good. Varying the output with so much control over it.¡±


    ¡°If we hop on it, we should get some airtime. It will be very useful!¡±


    The pit stop was over, and we jumped back into the competition. The combination of our powers greatly increased our travel speed. Filiel created platforms above the irregular terrain. And the burst effect propelled each of my strides. I sprinted at insane speed. Without breaking a sweat!


    I looked at the compass clutched in my hands. We had been traveling straight to the goal. Yet our peaceful travel aroused my suspicion. Not encountering competitors worried me. Either we were far ahead¡­or were just catching up.


    A projectile whistled through the air. It went over my head and stuck deep inside of a tree trunk. Filiel dissolved our Hardwall track. Both of us had a harsh landing onto the forest. I took the backline position according to standard formation. When the attacker tried to shoot at me again, Filiel intercepted it with her ability.


    Even If shadowed by the tree canopy, I recognized the perpetrator. He had made enough of a mark for me to never forget his face. It was my third time encountering him.


    ¡°Heads up. This guy¡¯s name is Baron. He is a vanguard with a heavy hitting ability. But he¡¯ll have a hard time breaching my defense.¡± Filiel warned.


    Baron¡¯s voice echoed through the vegetation. ¡°I¡¯m grateful that I caught up to you. You won¡¯t get any further.¡±


    ¡°Are you so sure about that? You and I have studied together half a year. You know me. I¡¯ll never back down on a challenge.¡±


    No other school would have their students fighting each other as part of the syllabus. Was it specific to our class tier? Or a global policy? The Seven Star education system wanted me to learn combat skills.


    I glanced at the other student. In order to size him up, or even find a weak point. He became aware of that fact. ¡°What are you looking at, transfer? Are you never going to learn how we do things at Class F by yourself? Because I just got the time to teach you.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead. For the first time ever, I¡¯m eager to study.¡±


    ¡°Christian? Excuse me. The cool guy talk takes up our valuable time. I¡¯ll get rid of Baron. Support me from the back.¡±


    She casted flat panels around her body. Hardwall was flexible enough to produce energy armor. At the other end, Baron also showcased his ability. He summons bladelike entities that he remote controls. That was how he ambushed us with projectiles. Numerous sharp slashes orbited him. Each one, a different bright neon color.


    An armored Filiel charged at Baron. When they neared melee-range, he attempted stabbing her gut. It bounced off, product of my Burst Counter upgrade. Baron deaccelerated the blade milliseconds before the ricocheting piece struck him. She used the distraction to land the first hit. He swallowed the pain of the strike. He was lucky Filiel was pulling her punches. It appeared she preferred not sending people to the infirmary if possible.


    Everything appeared to go to our advantage. I went to take a deep breath, to savor the fresh air infused with victory. But something had happened to me. Breathing became difficult.


    Filiel collapsed first. Her physical exertion depleted her oxygen quicker than I did mine since I was only watching from afar. My legs trembled trying to balance me. I was going to fall too, but not before finding the culprit. Another student had come out of hiding. A small girl I can describe as the polar opposite of Filiel. That was all I got before I had to brace my face with my arms to dampen my fall.


    ¡°Nothing against you Dawn. But I¡¯m sort of pissed.¡± He said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to see you hurt on a fight.¡±


    ¡°This little bruise? It¡¯s nothing. What I meant was that I really wanted a fair chance a fighting her. Not this race against the clock stuff.¡±


    ¡°If you go solo, I¡¯ll keep these two suppressed. After us, they are the runners-up most likely to win.¡±


    He sprinted east towards the goal. Leaving us under his teammate¡¯s watch.


    ¡®You are being affected by a physical debuff.¡¯


    A debuff? So, this girl is probably a support. Her name was Dawn? That ability did a number on us. Baron should have been hurrying at top speed. Our fortunes reversed just when I had felt sure of victory.


    In the end, I had misjudged the support role. My misconceptions had tainted my idea of what a support could accomplish. I relived the last encounter. Aside from my upgrade, I didn¡¯t do anything to help out. Compare that to Dawn, who took one for the team and stayed behind. Letting her vanguard go endangered her. Any other team could take us out right now. But she still did it.


    Baron was right, I was a transfer in need of learning the ways of the world. So, I made up my mind to learn from my peers. And I was starting with this Dawn girl.


    Advisor. You heard all that, right?


    ¡®Yes, all of it. In these situations, you must observe carefully. Figure out how the opponent¡¯s ability operates.¡¯


    I will¡­It¡¯s not hard to figure out. I can barely breathe. If I can¡¯t intake sufficient oxygen, I won¡¯t be able to move.


    ¡®Also, your body temperature has dropped a degree.¡¯


    Metabolism too? Is it a stamina debuff?


    I succeeded in guessing the method of operation. Then, I needed to find a way to put that knowledge to use. I forced air in through my mouth. By changing how I breathed, I could slightly mitigate the effect.


    Talking became possible. ¡°Can you tell me your ability¡¯s name?¡± Making small talk hid my intentions. I wanted Filiel to know we had a chance. Slowly, I pushed against the ground to lift myself.


    ¡°Stay down. You are too weakened to even scratch me.¡±


    ¡°You are totally right about that¡­but that won¡¯t stop me. Even if can¡¯t do crap, I¡¯ll try. If that isn¡¯t enough, I¡¯ll rest for the day.¡±


    I grounded myself on one knee. My hands were still pushing against the soil.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even try it. I gave my word to him.¡± She started to consider me a threat. One more worrying than Filiel, the top student on our class. Dawn lifted her foot and stomped down. A faint yellow film covered me just in time. When she struck the Hardwall shielding, Burst Counter sent her flying. And she landed ungracefully on her behind.


    I turned to see the teammate who protected me at the last second. We made eye contact and it was enough to hatch a plan. An opportunity had opened up, we went in all or nothing.


    I picked up a rock, lifted it for her to see and dropped it. Filiel angled a Hardwall so rock would bounce at the right angle. It struck our target right in the head.


    Headshot! We were freed from the debuff when she went unconscious. Although a stumbled a bit, I got back on my feet.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t die or anything. Surely.¡± To confirm, I went over to her body. She was out cold. But my fingers felt the pulse through her wrist. However, it felt wrong to abandon her. ¡°Did I cross a line there? Any wolves or bears living in these woods?¡±


    ¡°A security team must be on its way. It happens whenever a student is knocked out.¡±


    I had a puzzled look. How could that be possible?


    ¡°Our IDs. They are networked. Seven Star doesn¡¯t want us dying on their grounds. The college protect us.¡±


    They also don¡¯t want us leaving¡­I shook my head. It wasn¡¯t the time to complain.


    We had a second target to take out.

 C4. The Esper Phys Ed Curriculum. Part 2.

    As soon as Filiel recast the Hardwalls we rushed to recover the time Dawn and Oster took up. With our great speed my 25 credits were still reachable. But before that, I¡¯m sure Oster will try to get in the way. The plan? Take initiative and attack him first.


    Whenever a platform burst, it made noticeable noise. Yet it couldn¡¯t compare to the deafening sound of Oster¡¯s ability. Sounded like a heavy chainsaw. He was using it to clear obstacles. But with all that noise, he gave away his location.


    I landed on a pad. And this time, it didn¡¯t propel me forwards. The platform was a solid slab of forcefield.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be stealthy from now on. He won¡¯t hear us approaching.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll bait him out. You get to the goal.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Confidently sure.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to separate. May I give you a head start?¡± She summoned two different sets of platforms.


    I took a path separated from Filiel. That yellowish path didn¡¯t give me a boost anymore. However, high ground was still high ground. The slippery leaf detritus didn¡¯t bother me. Nor the occasional rock or dead tree. Running, I got ahead of Oster who couldn¡¯t hear my footsteps.


    His face filled with shock once he saw me jump in front of him. At a safe distance of course.


    ¡°You! What did you do to Dawn? There¡¯s no way¡­¡±


    I scratched the back of my head. ¡°She¡¯s out. Stone cold.¡±


    He surveilled the environment for my Vanguard.


    ¡°Defeating the other girl cost me Filiel. I¡¯m here to avenge her.¡± Due to the distance between us Oster didn¡¯t notice my face twitching. Otherwise he would spot my bluff.


    ¡°So, the weakling is alone by himself. Good news.¡±


    Colorful orbs appeared floating around Oster. They became thinner and longer, in the shape of blades. But his smile looked more razor sharp than any knife I¡¯ve known. Oster knew he had a psychopath-tier ability. The blades orbiting him began spinning at high speed. A human blender with him as the axis of rotation. It whirred loudly. In seconds, his move cleared the trees around him. Stumps were all that remained grounded.


    I exhaled slowly. Trust him. Trust that he will follow the rules and not murder you.


    He shot some of his blades at me. I ducked them, thanks to the large distance. Oster couldn¡¯t guide his razors outside of his narrow area of influence. Once out, they were dummy projectiles. But if one of them landed, I would be disabled. I really didn¡¯t want to end like Dawn did. I¡¯m not proud of that sentence, considering I caused the KO.


    I ran avoiding the projectiles as best as I could. Each time a shot hit a tree or soil, dirt or wood shrapnel scratched my legs, arms, or face. Anything not protected by the athletic wear I carried. And it wasn¡¯t because Oster¡¯s aim was off. He devised that method to damage me without infringing on the ¡®no lethal injuries¡¯ rule.


    How much longer? I didn¡¯t take any detours. I was sure of being on route towards the finishing line. But I wasn¡¯t sure I would reach it. Neither was I sure I wanted to sacrifice myself so Filiel would win for us. Whatever Oster planned on doing with me, it would be worse than what my team did to Dawn.


    That day, I figured I wasn¡¯t that unathletic. By the powers of Adrenaline and Cortisol, my full potential surged. I took cover from the fire, behind a sturdy pine. My nails shoved the dead leaves aside and I took the soil with my hands, pressing it into a tight ball.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Take this!¡± The dirt ball flew towards him.


    Oster only saw a blur coming at him and sliced it apart. Exactly like I wanted. The ball exploded. Dirt blasted in all directions, splattering his face with grime. He rubbed his eyes a whole lot. That only caused him more discomfort.


    Do I flee? Do I keep throwing things at him? I dirtied his face on a whim. Something I came up while fleeing. I didn¡¯t have a follow up.


    With his shirt, he cleaned himself. ¡°That was low. You played me dirty.¡±


    ¡°Heck I did. I¡¯m an otherwise defenseless Support. You are basically bullying me around. Swinging ESP blades at an average person. Not fair.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t fall twice for same trap.¡± A pair of blades landed on his hands. He impacted them, producing sparks.


    Great, he can grab them. I better restart running.


    I tried to flee again, but I had cooled off. I couldn¡¯t reach the same speed. Oster outputted the best sprint I had seen of him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stab you myself! You won¡¯t die. But you¡¯ll beg for it!¡±


    If I hadn¡¯t stopped, my dumb legs wouldn¡¯t have failed. Oster began to get dangerously close. ¡°Filiel!¡±


    I¡¯m not one to pray. But I needed her to come. Faith drove me to empty my lungs on shouting her name. Oster became angrier after realizing I had played him. The sudden materialization of a translucent panel caught him. He smacked against the solid wall.


    ¡°Up here!¡± Her voice called from the sky. There she was, on a platform hovering over the treetops. ¡°Can you reapply the buff?¡±


    She lost the Burst Counter. Something regarding distance, Advisor?


    ¡®Yes. The upgrades under Party Influence are not permanent. They¡¯ll disappear if the beneficiary gets out of range. Reapplying¡­¡¯


    ¡°Should be done!¡±


    She made a landing pad to absorb the blow. Akin to landing on a trampoline. ¡°I¡¯ve got news.¡± The wall separating us came apart at her will. ¡°Hey Oster! As you already saw, I did some air reconnaissance.¡±


    ¡°Argh!¡± I could understand his reason for being salty. He had actually believed Dawn took Filiel down. He tried attacking from range but refrained after recalling Filiel made that useless.


    She clasped her hands. ¡°The competition is really lousy today. They are stuck fighting far away. Desmond¡¯s outputting a fireworks show. I guess I could spare you a few minutes.¡±


    Oster didn¡¯t wait for her to end speaking. He engaged in close combat, using his whole array of blades. Filiel simply parried them by placing a wall right next to him. ¡°Stop placing your damn things on my face!¡±


    Filiel smirked and I copied her expression. Until Oster used a new trick. He stopped slashing at the walls mindlessly. Instead, he grinded open the force field. Thus, breaking my illusions of Filiel being an impenetrable fort. She placed multiple new walls. From there on, it turned into a stalemate.


    This fight lost its sense of direction. Like this, it¡¯s never finishing on time. To further remind me on how time was essential, an explosion blasted in the distance. The person Filiel mentioned earlier. I considered what would happen if our team fled the battle. Oster would probably pester me for life.


    A second explosion sounded. This one came from Oster, who stepped into a Burst Counter floor trap. Exactly like Dawn did. Freefalling, Oster exploited his immunity to his own ability to correct his landing. He had taken Filiel by surprise and landed a hit on her.


    ¡°So¡­students at Class A bleed red like everyone else. I wish I could take a picture.¡± He pointed at her wounded forearm.


    ¡°Filiel are you OK?¡±


    ¡°Minor scratch!¡± She covered the wound with her other hand. After she retired it, a small barrier covered it.


    At this point, the two had become bitter rivals. A far call from what I saw in the morning. Who would defeat the other with attrition? I was eager to find out. But time was running short. Besides, I grew tired of standing there like a third wheel.


    There should be something around here¡­The trees had become victims of collateral damage. I sighted a long branch that Oster had almost cut. After twirling and pulling it, it came off. Gripping it like a spear, I charged into battle.


    While Oster had his ESP blades focused on cutting down a Hardwall, I thrusted at his ribs with my crude weapon. He fell over. Enough time for me to sidestep him and get to Filiel. ¡°Hold that arm over your head and let¡¯s just get out of here!¡± I grabbed her healthy arm and pulled her with me. ¡°Fighting was wrong. It¡¯s supposed to be a race.¡±


    I could tell she didn¡¯t like missing the chance to put him down. But she also agreed with me. She took too long. Must be something that happens when a pair of tanks fight. They don¡¯t have ways of ending the fight promptly.


    Since Filiel got wounded, it was best not to shake her too much by using the Burst Counter Run technique. What followed was a horrid stretch of running while supporting my teammate. Accompanied by not too distant sounds of explosions and violence. Luckily, Oster seemed caught up in that mess. We had exited just in time.


    These words feel wrong, but I was ecstatic to see the damned fog wall. A clearing separated the forest and the barrier. Professor Alan was waiting.

 C5. Slice of life at the world鈥檚 worst boarding school.

    Professor Alan greeted us from distance. "Hey there champions!" I had a gut feeling his words of praise were cheaper than dirt. Fitting for an instructor who teaches to the lowest tier.


    I followed protocol and greeted him. "Good to see you professor."


    "We''re first, right?" Filiel is the sort of person who constantly worries about her position relative to rest.


    He nodded. Then, he read his wristwatch. "Yes, you are. I''ll record your time for the next chance. Did you guys enjoy the assignment?"


    I muttered. "Enjoy? I almost got stabbed." And Filiel actually came out injured.


    "Especially you, Christian. The class had never raced like this. But I''m always looking for dynamic ways to teach¡­It''s the only way those guys ever learn." He pointed at students entering the clearing. "Hey there runners-up!"


    My classmates had really beaten themselves up. What sort of education is this? They were smiling, worst part of it. You could really tell they had health insurance and didn¡¯t fear any medical bills.


    I didn¡¯t need to pay any mid to my classmates¡¯ abnormal attitudes. The Fog Barrier was right in front. Once again, the symbol of my imprisonment challenged me to escape. My pride hurt, but I had to give it the win for the second time.


    My opinions about this school¡¯s polices were so conflicted. It needs a total reformation, but as it stands now it has an important role. If individuals like Oster suddenly snapped¡­That¡¯s material for a national tragedy news cycle. However, why was everyone so upfront about it? The ¡®Berlin wall¡¯, all students were staring at it, without second thoughts. Had they already acknowledged the prison-like nature of this High School? Was I the only one who thought that it was a secret?


    Overall, I turned out I couldn¡¯t resist the urge to go near it. It¡¯s impressive. It reminds me of my lost freedom, while also meaning something else. This world hid a secret society and I accessed it. Me, who shut the world out of their life for so long, was forcibly thrown into it.


    "Fried! It''s dangerous to go near the Barrier." I know what I''m doing, and I won''t touch it. "There will be a slight pain if you touch it!" I recalled my test stick''s sizzling. Slight pain? Sure.


    I kept going until Filiel stopped me. She lacked an understanding of the context behind my actions, but she worried for my health. I had done the same. In the end, it was an overreaction from me. As her wound wasn¡¯t nearly as deep as I first believed. The blood had clotted by the time we arrived here.


    My head went low, as I restrained from garnering any more attention. Alan diverted the scene. He''d rather reward us and get everything over with. Attending to his instructions, us winner formed a line where my team was front and center.


    Alan raised his card, which I guess is his equivalent of the student''s IDs. "Transfer predefined awards." It has a microphone too! "OK, check your balances."


    "Eh? How does this work?" The number depicting my Academic Credit shot up by fifty points. Whoever invented the technology should launch it into the consumer market. When I asked, I expected Filiel to instantly answer. But she was too engrossed in admiring her own balance. I guessed it must be sky-high. "And then how do I transfer you your cut?" That brought her out of the self-absorption.


    "Focus on the quantity and tap the cards." Sounded unbelievable, but I had already lost my capacity for disbelief.


    Half of fifty, twenty-five. Tap. My card struck hers. The number updated. It''s not that bad. Considering the starting amount is a hundred. And in videogames a quarter of the initial amount¡­for a first quest reward is respectable. "Thanks a lot for today."


    Studying at Seven Star had its moments. Moments where I had a teammate who''s also a friend, helping me. The last few days of May moved on and we entered June. I actually did it, I survived the first week. I wish I could say I survive and thrived. But the hours after class were dreadful. I did befriend the girl, but she also spent too much time studying, lived far from me, and there''s a curfew in place after sunset. Maybe I should meet other people.


    Cleaning my single room apartment had become my way of passing the time. Although I often had fits of rage while doing it. And you had to lease brooms and chemicals off a faraway stall. Out of the blue, a certain someone came to mind. I''ll run the numbers¡­but did she tell me her wages, or did I forget them? My teammate and I had struck first place on most assignments, so I could probably afford it. Before that, I had a few errands to take care of.


    I left home and walked to the only commercial zone in the Campus. The place where you are supposed to spend Credits. There are a lot of stores designed to keep the student busy with consumerism. But I didn''t plan to purchase anything expensive, as I''m saving up for a smartphone. Why did they take my belongings again?


    The bell notified the clerks of my arrival. ''Businesses'' here are all attended by students. It''s how they earn their Academic Credits.


    "Greetings. Are you a new customer?" My first visit to the General Store.


    "Yes. Is the current textbook in stock?"


    "Almost everyone purchased theirs already, but¡­" He slapped the top of a pile. "We have unlimited stock!" Dozens of textbooks taped into a stack. He pointed me at an aisle where they had spare copies.


    "Here you go." A girl stocking the shelves, handed me one.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Opening the book resulted in shock. "Matte paper with color graphics! Excuse me, do we get the same textbooks as the main classes?"


    "We do, everyone gets the same didactic materials."


    "That doesn''t happen often."


    "It''s cheaper than redacting two editions." An explanation which made sense.


    I placed my card on their scanner to pay. Additionally, I got myself school supplies. And I killed some time browsing the store. The window-shopping even gave me an idea. What if could purchase Academic Credits with real money? Then, instead of using mine I could request the aid of my extended family and live as royalty. Then I thought it through. I did have some valid reasons for escaping the Fried main house. Better not depend on them.


    After exiting the shop there were the options of staying at the commercial hub or going back home. I picked an empty bench. Well, all of them were empty. Ok book, about time I test you. I knew elite education when I saw it, not that I appreciated it. There was also the chance of it having useful information.


    ''Mathematics'' Nope. ''Foreign Language'' Nein. ''Primer for transfer students.'' Yes, yes, yes. I read it silently.


    ''Faculty welcomes you the Seven Star College. Whether you transferred schools or have been admitted from the general populace, you have the opportunity to study in the leader of Parapsychic Education.'' Are there rival schools? Can I transfer? ''So, you just dropped into the middle of the semester and don''t know what to do. First, you should learn of the rich historical value of this institute.''


    "The abandoned Alcatraz also has a rich historical value. If you aren''t useful, I''ll throw you into a trash bin." Immature of me, but I aimed the book at a garbage can next to the bench.


    ''Formally established in the late 19th, The College has nurtured generations of espers. Did you know the College is named after the Seven Stars? This group of psychics took the mantle over the vices of mind and unified our community early in its formation. We would love to have them as professors!''


    "Enough self-aggrandizing." I closed the textbook. If it weren''t mandatory, I would have disposed of it immediately. Actually¡­If it weren''t mandatory, I wouldn''t have bought it in first place. "Aww man, I''ll have to read this crap in my spare time, won''t I?"


    Studying. Doing so should move you up from Class F. But is that actually the case? I had met diligent classmates who fought for their grades. Many of them were downgraded after their freshmen term. Why aren''t they moving up? Isn''t this class just punishment?


    "I''m going to pay my neighbor a visit."


    Instead of entering my room, I climbed the staircase. There, I pushed the doorbell button.


    "I''m coming!" She opened the door. My neighbor who, moonlights as a maid, wore the regular uniform. I normally forget names, but if had heard hers I would remember it. She did make an impression. "Oh! It''s you." She said.


    "Call me Christian."


    "Marianne. What are you doing here? You came for my services, didn''t you?"


    "The way you said it sounded off. But I won''t judge you if you perform two differing maid services¡­That would explain the outfit."


    "No, the dress¡¯s just marketing. I sewed it from used drapes."


    "I did come to ask about your wages."


    "Sure! Enter." She was naturally hyped. Everyone gets excited about new income.


    I was about to step into her doorway, but I hesitated. "You are not going to close the door on my face, right?"


    "No, but I''ll brew you a cup of tea."


    Marianne multitasked. She brewed tea while also pitching her services. The water was warm enough to serve when I''d finished scribbling the costs on a napkin. The aforementioned tea tasted like hot sucrose. It was artificially flavored. I could tell it from the detergent-grade citrusy aftertaste. "Thank you, it''s good."


    "You really think so? A classmate handed it to me after tasting her first cup."


    I should be more forthcoming next time.


    "How are you feeling the school?" She asked.


    "The scary Council President made me think all my future classmates were delinquents. But not everyone is like that. So why are they in Class F?"


    "Supposedly, if you achieve high scores you''ll be promoted to the upper tier. Yet, I''ve been here since first-year. It''s much more difficult to climb than it is to drop."


    "It''s senseless. I''ve seen students that actually study."


    "Never placed that much importance in academics."


    Like me? No, she can''t be that bad. I''m a special case of disaster.


    "Open up. I''m on a deadline!" A stranger knocked, instead of ringing.


    "Who''s that?"


    "It''s that time of the week."


    Another girl came to deliver the weekly pantry. She carried herself quite professionally, for someone delivering knockoffs.


    "What''s inside?" Marianne asked.


    "This period there''s a new maize flour."


    Corn? I can''t even handle wheat flour. I wasn''t eager to cook with that one. Last time, the instructions were in Chinese. I hoped these had been written in a language I could read. I knew some Spanish from schooling.


    Though, I don''t usually express chivalry I helped the host with her cargo. When she saw me, the delivery girl glared at me, as if trying to hex me. I assumed the deliverer suspected a man and a woman on the same room. "It''s a home visit¡­we aren''t going to do whatever you are misjudging us of."


    "¡­" Whatever she intended with me, it ended. "Next delivery, the committee will bring back corn flakes. They come bundled with an experimental dehydrated milk compound." I hoped ¡®experimental¡¯ was already reviewed by the ¡®National Food Agency¡¯.


    The delivery girl left for the next residence. However, she had already soured my mood to talk. I decided to go back to my hole. While descending the stairs, I saw her pushing a utility cart which was notably void of a load.


    I too, got my pantry delivered. "How careless of her. I''m sure they steal parcels around here."


    After taking it in, I laid down to rest. There''s not much to do indoors besides sleeping. In an hour or two, I could shower and then sleep. Most nights, I had no appetite for dinner. Up to that point, every night I recalled the day¡¯s events. Just writing a mental diary. But that night I couldn''t gather my thoughts. My sixth sense tingled. No, it gave me a painful migraine.


    I turned towards the SCLAP box. ¡°I don¡¯t trust her. There¡¯s something fishy inside.¡± My anxiety was due to a fear of food poisoning.


    Experimental milk compound¡­I¡¯m very suspicious of what they are feeding us.


    My nails ripped apart the packing tape. I unloaded everything, scanning each and every expiration date. And checking the packages actually had the ''use by'' label. Everything checked out, except for a stray slip of paper. A handwritten letter.


    ''I would like to clear up my suspicions about you. I¡¯ve been observing you for a few days. Hope you don¡¯t mind. Most days I come here for my job. There''s someone, you know who I''m referring to. I won''t tolerate you using her to exploit our school system.''


    Student Committee for Logistics And Produce. An organization that only accepts students of Class B or A. There¡¯s someone at my tail. Is the Student Council involved?


    I bit my inner cheek. Such surprises were undesired. And much less at these hours. But my intuition told me Reyna wouldn¡¯t raid my home again. Not when I was on her field. Wait and see, was my plan. I folded the note in half, intending to store it on a drawer. There was more to it written on the backside.


    ''There''s a large plaza nearby. If you don''t come now, I''ll go to you.''


    I donned my jacket again for the cold and broke the curfew by going to the core of the campus.