Chapter 6

Sebastian used to be a humanities student.

And now, he had taken the number one spot in science at the best school in the entire city.

The rest of Class 1 gradually caught wind of this piece of news, and the way they looked at Sebastian shifted from admiration to sheer terror.

Geniuses were meant to be admired; freaks were meant to be feared.

Asher finally understood why, from the moment he first saw Sebastian again, this guy had been grinding through science workbooks without stopping. He had initially pegged him as a purely hardworking type, but now it seemed that wasn't the case at all.

Asher suddenly found it rather interesting.

The Sebastian in his memory was a rational and cynical person, not someone who would make such a dramatic stunt as transferring back during his senior year, let alone switching from humanities to science.

Even if Sebastian was bold enough to pull it off, his father—who was entirely hell-bent on having his son study humanities and politics to inherit the family legacy—should never have agreed to it.

Asher felt that, as a neighbor and a desk-mate, he ought to offer a little human care.

Exiting his chat interface with Milo, he tapped open a certain profile picture that was a vast expanse of white.

[Why the sudden switch from humanities to science?]

Before he could even send his next message—[Had another fight with your dad?]—a reply flashed back.

[Got bored.]

...

There was no helping this guy.

The man was a pure beast. He shouldn't have wasted his time worrying whether Sebastian had some hidden grievance or unspeakable sorrow.

The guy didn't deserve it.

Conveniently, the bell rang for class, and the physics teacher walked in carrying a stack of exams. Asher stuffed his phone into his desk with a perfectly valid excuse not to reply.

The physics teacher for Class 1, Mr. Stone, was a very young Alpha who usually got along well with his students. After stepping up to the podium, he immediately had the class representative hand out the graded papers.

Asher’s full-mark exam paper was, as routine, taken to the front to be used as the lecture template.

From the podium came Mr. Stone’s slightly disgusted voice. "Asher, your handwriting on this paper... I really... even my nephew writes better than you."

Mr. Stone's nephew was three years old.

Asher wasn't the least bit ashamed. "Physics doesn't give extra credit for handwriting. What's the point of making it look pretty? Can you score me a 101?"

"..."

Sebastian thought Asher truly was asking for a beating. The corner of his mouth curved up slightly as he picked up a red pen and began writing next to the final major problem on his own paper.

Asher stole a glance out of the corner of his eye and noticed that Sebastian had received almost zero credit for the last two sub-questions of that final problem. He flaunted his victory with an annoying smugness. "See what happens when you throw a tantrum? If you hadn't thrown a fit that night, wouldn't I have explained this problem to you? Did your science score really have to look this miserable?"

Sebastian remained completely composed. "Mm, right. Otherwise, you would have been on top of me for real."

"..."

Maddening.

With a sharp clack, Asher pulled out a competitive math workbook and went dead silent.

Standing on the podium, Mr. Stone could clearly see the commotion at the back of the classroom. Though he couldn't hear what they were saying, it was a rare sight to see the young master of their class look so thoroughly defeated. His mood unexpectedly brightened. "Class, take out your papers. We'll start from the final comprehensive problem."

"This question is a competition problem from early national admissions. The actual university entrance exam won't be this difficult. Only Asher managed to solve it in the entire grade, but I'm still not entirely satisfied..."

For some inexplicable reason, Asher sneaked another glance next to him.

The answers and steps written in red pen by a certain someone were now entirely correct, while Mr. Stone was still rambling on the podium, not having even started explaining the actual question yet.

This guy.

Whatever.

The classes dedicated to reviewing exam papers usually went by very quickly.

The moment the bell rang for the final class of the day, the mass of students swarmed toward the brick wall near the school garden to pick up their food deliveries.

Only Sebastian and Asher remained in the classroom, waiting for the neighbor's housekeeper to deliver their dinner.

In truth, Sebastian didn't care much for delicacies; it was primarily a certain someone who was excessively picky.

If a meal wasn't exactly to his taste, he wouldn't eat a bite. When he didn't eat, his stomach would ache, and when his stomach ached, he would swallow the pain and say nothing.

An old habit of so many years, yet he had never managed to change it. No wonder he had gotten thinner.

Sebastian glanced at the person next to him who was intensely playing a mobile game, then checked his phone. "I'll go to the gate to pick up the food."

Just as he stood up, the frame of the front door was rapped sharply, accompanied by the twin thuds of a basketball hitting the floor.

"Ash, the rain stopped. The international class wants to play a game. You in?"

The Alpha standing at the classroom door was tall with a clean buzz cut, sharp and handsome features, and a bright, easy smile resting on his lips.

After speaking, he noticed Sebastian and smiled again. "Boss Seb is here too. Long time no see. Want to join?"

Elliot knew Sebastian, but they weren't close. No grudges, no debts.

He only asked out of politeness. After all, he truly couldn't picture a pristine, untouchable flower like Sebastian dripping with sweat on a basketball court.

Sure enough, Sebastian only returned two words: "No, thanks."

His tone was so cold it carried absolutely no presence.

Meanwhile, Asher, who had just secured an MVP in his game, caught the words "international class." A trace of a mocking smile leaked into his dark eyes as he stood up lazily and stretched his limbs.

"Let's go."

The classroom for Grade 12, Class 1 was on the first floor of the North Building, right next to a small outdoor basketball court.

The monsoon season that had dragged on for the entire summer was finally drawing to a close. The sky had cleared up for just a single afternoon, leaving a few puddles on the open-air court, but the teenage boys who had been cooped up for too long were bursting with hormones. They felt an itch deep in their bones.

If they didn't play a few matches, they wouldn't feel at peace.

The international class had brought seven or eight people, while Asher's side had exactly five, so they naturally split into teams.

Asher caught the ball with his fingertips, bouncing it nonchalantly against the ground a couple of times. "Half-court or four quarters?"

"With this many people, we definitely play four quarters."

"Fine." Asher flicked his wrist, tossing the ball toward Sterling "The Bull." "You guys take the first possession."

Getting the opening possession for free was a good deal, but Sterling just had to open his big mouth. "Why the hell do we get to go first?"

Asher lifted his eyelids, sweeping a look over him. "I'm an exemplary student. I make allowances for the handicapped."

Sterling, who had been beaten twice in the five days since school started, lost his temper. He darkened his face and cast a meaningful glance at the other Alphas on his team.

The international class was a unique entity. They only applied to study abroad and didn't sit for the domestic college entrance exams, so they weren't counted in the school’s academic ranking statistics. Their disciplinary system was entirely separate. There were students who genuinely wanted to attend world-renowned universities, but the majority were slackers with wealthy families and mediocre grades.

A significant portion of those slackers had gained admission to the high school through athletic extra points, so while their grades were poor, their physical builds were absolutely top-tier among Alphas.

Standing in unison on the court, their physical presence looked noticeably more intimidating than the science track team.

However, the Omegas spectating by the sidelines still only had eyes for Asher.

After all, with a face like his, one had to admit defeat.

Sterling had arranged this game precisely to find an excuse to mess with Asher under valid rules, so right from the start, the five opponents aligned their entire defensive line to target him.

Not only did they target him, but their physical movements were far from clean.

Elliot had just intercepted a pass and transferred the ball to Asher, only for Asher to be instantly boxed in by four massive brutes.

Asher curled the corner of his mouth. "What's this? Even your forward is playing defense?"

The opposing forward who had been ordered to block him looked rather uncomfortable.

Yet, while Asher looked entirely lazy on the surface, the movements of his hands and feet didn't slacken in the slightest. He feinted to the right, and the moment the defense shifted right, he drove the ball back to the left, forcing the opponent to scramble back in a rush.

Though the opponents were somewhat clumsy, they were still four brutes standing at nearly six-foot-three. With a human wall blocking his path, Asher couldn't break through, so he simply raised his wrists, planning to take a blind shot right from where he stood.

The defense reacted swiftly, leaping up for a high block.

In response, Asher turned his back to the basket and flipped the ball backward into a pass to Elliot. Elliot caught it right under the net and laid it in. Score.

The opposing team froze in confusion. Asher shrugged his shoulders, sauntered over slowly, and high-fived Elliot.

He had deflected their brute force with pure ease, not giving them a single ounce of his respect.

After two quarters, Asher’s side was leading 29 to 12, a massive head start.

The Omegas by the sidelines, led by Milo, let out a synchronized, high-pitched squeal.

"Ahhhh!!! Ash is awesome!!! Ash is number one in the universe!!!"

Lulu was mixed in the crowd as well, jumping up and down while waving two bottles of sports drinks.

Sterling's face turned even uglier.

During the halftime break, he called his players over, crowding their heads together to whisper in a huddle.

Elliot cast a glance over there and gave Asher a small smile. "Look at those hollow blocks of wood. Who knows what kind of cheap tricks they're plotting."

Asher unscrewed his bottle cap. "Don't be so cynical. It's not like they chose to be born with hollow blocks of wood for heads. You need to show some compassion."

He always spoke in a lazy, unhurried manner, without using much force or volume, yet his words were always perfectly timed to ensure the exact people who needed to hear them caught every syllable.

Sterling completely abandoned any intention of letting this basketball game end peacefully.

Right from the start, Asher intercepted the ball. With two quick feints, he took three steps forward, vaulted into the air, and slammed the ball home.

It was fluid, sharp, and executed in a single, seamless motion.

To buffer his momentum, he gripped the rim with both hands. His slender arms tensed, revealing firm, toned muscle lines. As his body swayed in midair, the hem of his shirt lifted, exposing a sliver of pale, tight waist.

Lean and resilient, it looked like a length of bamboo, yet sharp like a narrow blade.

Under the dim, yellowish glow of the dusk sky, illuminated by the streetlamps lining the court, that chillingly pristine sight was enough to spark an unspoken allure.

Sebastian happened to catch this exact scene through the window as he walked back with the food.

He thought that waist was a bit too slender.

It was hard to imagine any Alpha possessing a waist like that.

Meanwhile, Asher thought his own dunk was cool as hell. Curving his lips into a smirk, he released his grip, preparing to land.

The moment his feet touched the ground, before he could even stabilize his stance, the opposing guard drove an elbow hard into his back. He stumbled forward, nearly crashing to the ground, but his fast reflexes saved him as he propped himself up with one hand.

This was no longer an unsportsmanlike foul; it was blatant, malicious provocation.

Elliot charged forward instantly, grabbing the guard by his collar and yanking him back. "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

The guard threw his hands up. "My bad. I wasn't paying attention and lost my balance."

"Are those two thick legs of yours freaking prosthetics?"

Elliot and his teammates were far from gentle souls themselves. They had found Sterling and his crew eyesores from the start. If they hadn't been completely suppressing the opponents alongside Asher all game, the dark fury in their chests would have erupted long ago. There was no way they could tolerate this kind of goading.

Yet Sterling remained completely unbothered, practically wishing for the situation to escalate. Leading several massive brutes from the international class over, he let out a cold sneer. "He said he lost his balance and he already apologized, so what else do you want? He’s not some fragile Omega. Is he really that delicate that he can't handle a little contact during a game?"

Asher stood up, brushing the dirt off his fingertips.

Elliot noticed him knit his brows. Though it was fleeting, that frown clearly signaled discomfort.

He walked over. "You okay?"

"Mm, it's fine." Asher lifted his gaze, slanting a cold look at Sterling. "Are we continuing or what?"

His voice carried a chilling edge, and the slight tilt of his eyes made it entirely obvious that he was suppressing a wave of ferocity.

He wasn't someone who feared trouble, but he despised resorting to violence in front of a crowd of Omegas and girls. Fighting wasn't a noble thing, after all, and scaring people wasn't his style.

He preferred to make others accept their defeat through absolute submission on the scoreboard.

The match resumed. Asher's entire aura became noticeably sharper, and his offensive drives grew increasingly ruthless. He sank several three-pointers from incredibly tight angles, extending the point deficit to a massive thirty.

Meanwhile, back in the classroom, students were gradually returning after finishing their dinners.

Caleb leaned against his seat, propping himself up by the window sill as he watched the court, clicking his tongue in succession. "No wonder those people are screaming like it's a live NBA game. Our Ash is just too damn hot. What Omega could possibly resist this? If I were an Omega, I’d definitely chase him."

Sebastian leaned his body back into his chair, his fingertips tapping lightly against the desk. His tone was cold and detached. "You can still chase him even if you're an Alpha."

"No way," Caleb replied without a second thought. "Two Alphas never end well. You can't have kids, and you even have to pay a fine to the government."

Sebastian's fingers froze against the desk. He shifted his head to look out the window. After a brief pause, he stated nonchalantly, "It probably isn't that expensive."

"Huh? What isn't expensive?" Caleb failed to keep up with the big boss's train of thought for a moment. He turned his head, his mouth slightly open as he stared at Sebastian in utter confusion.

Sebastian lowered his eyes. "Nothing."