What is this guy even thinking? "Can you stop sending me money whenever you're bored?" I snapped, trying to keep my cool. But Raiden just laughed again.
That laugh—it was like a soft melody in my ears, and I hated how much I liked it.
"You don't like it?" he asked, his head resting on his hand as he watched me. I let out an annoyed laugh.
"Do you think money can make people happy?" I shot back. "Well, Mr. Moneybags, your charity doesn't do much for me. So you can have your money back, and I can have my peace." I tapped on my phone to transfer the points back, but nothing happened.
"It won't work, no matter how hard you press the screen," he chuckled. I shot him a stern look, but he just kept smiling at me, amused. What is wrong with this guy? "I don’t like take-backs, so I disabled that feature," he said, his smile growing wider, clearly enjoying how frustrated I was getting.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, almost pleading now. I just wanted a straight answer. "Because I like it," he replied smugly. I knew I wouldn't get a serious answer out of him. Not today.
The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. I quickly gathered my things and stood up, leaving without another word. Maybe it was rude, but it wasn’t like I wanted him to follow me anyway.
---
The next class on the schedule was an Emotional Intelligence Workshop. As I made my way to Conference Room A, I thought about what this class might involve.
It seemed to focus on understanding and managing emotions, both our own and others. I wasn't sure how useful it would be, but I was here to learn, and I wanted to make the most of it.
When I entered the room, there were several round tables set up with chairs around them. Each table had a small stack of papers, some markers, and a few small objects like stress balls and fidget toys. The instructor, a middle-aged woman with short, dark hair and a warm smile, stood at the front of the room. She welcomed everyone as they came in, explaining that today we would focus on group activities that would help us understand different emotions and how to handle them.
We were assigned to groups, and I found myself at a table with three other students. To my surprise, one of them was the red-haired girl I had noticed earlier in the classroom. Her posture was stiff, and her expression was cold as she glanced my way.
I remembered her from earlier—she had that defiant look, the one that said she was ready for a fight. I tried not to let her intense stare get to me as I took my seat. The activity was simple. We were supposed to share a time when we felt a strong emotion and how we handled it.
The other group members started sharing their stories, but when it was my turn, the red-haired girl cut me off. "So, Anne," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "How did a newbie like you end up here? Did your family pull some strings, or are you just lucky?"
I could tell she was trying to provoke me, but I kept my voice calm. "I have no idea either," I replied. All I know is that I was sent here to sharpen my skills. I remembered taking a physical test before arriving. The test was a grueling series of exercises designed to push me to my limits: climbing walls, sprinting through obstacle courses, lifting weights that seemed impossible.
I barely passed, but I knew I had earned my place. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you know that only a few people get in here because of the intense briefing? Looking at you, I doubt you can even lift a bucket of water." She looked at me blankly. "Or maybe your family really did pull some strings. You do look like you grew up with a golden spoon. Well, not everyone here is so fortunate." She shot me a look that was almost challenging. "Unlike you, some of us had to actually earn our place."
"Stop it, Lila," one of our group members, Gail, said, trying to intervene. "You're being too much."
"Get your nose out of this matter, Gail. This person needs to know her place," Lila shot back. I could feel the tension rising. Clearly, she had some kind of grudge, and it was only getting worse. I had heard rumors that she was Raiden’s ex-fling a while ago and that she wanted him back. Maybe that explained the hostility and the way she kept throwing dagger looks whenever Raiden approached me.
I wasn't sure what I had to do with her losing him, though. I'd just been here for a couple of weeks, and a lot had already happened. Then, out of nowhere, she pulled off her gloves and threw them on the table in front of me.
"I challenge you to a one-on-one match," she said, her voice low but firm. Everyone at the table fell silent, eyes widening. I hesitated.
"I’m not interested," I said, trying to diffuse the situation. The last thing I wanted was to get into a fight in my first month here. She smirked, clearly not backing down. "What’s the matter? Afraid to get your hands dirty?" she mocked.
"Or maybe your family didn’t teach you how to fight. Or did they just raise you to be weak?" That was the last straw. Her words hit a nerve. My family hadn’t raised me—I had raised myself, scraped my way up from nothing. She had no idea what I’d been through. "Fine," I said, my voice cold. "I accept your challenge."
A few gasps went around the room, and Lila’s smirk widened. "Saturday," she said. "At the underground training grounds. Don't be late." I nodded. "I won’t be."
The rest of the class went by in a blur. My mind was already focused on the fight ahead. I had no idea what her skills were like, but I couldn’t back down now. I’d made a promise to myself a long time ago. I would never let anyone push me around again. I wasn’t about to start now.
---
"I heard that you've gotten into trouble while I was gone," Raiden said as he suddenly barged into the room. I was at the back of our room, having some time for myself. How does he always know where to find me? Is he a psychic or a mind reader?
It was already afternoon, so I was just chilling on my own. Classes were finished, and this day wasn't any better than my other school days. "So?" I asked, still looking at my book. "Do you even know where the underground training grounds are?" he asked. I looked towards him. Unlike his usual expression, he seemed quite serious right now. I averted my gaze.
"I'll be able to find it in no time," I answered before looking back at my book. "Well, finding it is more complicated than you think," he replied. I wondered what he meant by that. He turned his back, but he wasn't that far when I called out. "Where can I find it?"
---
Raiden led me through the narrow hallways and winding stairs of the academy, deeper than I'd ever gone before. My footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls, and with every step, the place felt more and more like a labyrinth. The road was steep, and the area became quieter with every step. The silence was unsettling, and my mind began to overthink. What kind of place is this? Why is it so hidden?
The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled over me. Raiden glanced back at me, noticing my nervousness. "It's not as straightforward as you'd think," he said, almost reading my thoughts. "These passages were designed to be confusing. Keeps uninvited guests out."
The path twisted and turned, leading us through narrow alleys and deserted back streets. We passed several intersections that looked nearly identical—dimly lit corridors with cracked stone floors and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Without Raiden guiding me, I would have been lost a long time ago. The deeper we went, the more I felt like we were stepping into another world entirely. The walls were lined with faded, ancient markings, and I could hear the faint sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance.
Just when I thought we’d been walking for hours, Raiden suddenly stopped. As we got closer to what seemed like our destination, a group of people suddenly stepped into our path.
They appeared out of nowhere, as if they'd been waiting for us. Raiden immediately moved to shield me, his posture tense and protective. I hadn’t even noticed them until he reacted.
"Looks like you’ve got someone with you, Raiden," one of the strangers sneered. His voice was rough, like gravel being crushed underfoot.
"Move," Raiden ordered with authority, but the group didn’t seem to care. There were four of them, all wearing dark clothes, their faces shadowed under the dim lights. One of them brandished a knife, the blade catching a sliver of light.
Raiden grabbed my hand tightly, pulling me slightly behind him. "Stay here," he commanded, his voice low and firm. I wasn’t panicked. I knew how to fight. But seeing Raiden’s serious demeanor made me pause. I had never seen him like this before—completely focused, every muscle tense, ready to spring.
The leader of the group smirked, taking a step closer. "We’ve got no business with the girl. Just hand her over, and you can walk away, Raiden." Raiden’s response was a punch that came out of nowhere, landing squarely on the leader’s jaw.
Here we go again.