Chapter 16

Whether you are useful or not, I don't know, but do you seriously lack a single ounce of self-awareness regarding whether our relationship allows for mutual utilization?

Asher had firmly resolved that he would never get along with Sebastian for the rest of his life.

Failing to appreciate his sentiment in the slightest, he curved his lips, slanting a cold look over him. "If I recall correctly, I just stated yesterday that I intend to make you leave Riverdale Prep thoroughly accepting your defeat."

Sebastian nodded. "If I recall correctly, your exact words yesterday were that if you don't make me leave this school thoroughly accepting my defeat, you won't count as an Alpha."

"..."

"Look, didn't that prediction come true instantly?"

"..."

"I simply adore an upstanding youth like you who always keeps his word."

Asher: "..."

His teeth felt thoroughly itchy.

"Little kid, don't look at me with an expression of such deep-seated hatred." Sebastian tilted his head, staring at Asher as his eyes squinted slightly like an absolute fox spirit. "A friendly reminder: you still have a use for me."

"You are truly shameless."

"I am thoroughly honored."

Disrupted by Sebastian's teasing in this manner, every single trace of Asher's rare, deep sorrow vanished into thin air.

Instead of letting his spare thoughts waste away on sentimental grief, he might as well head back to work through his Literature reading comprehension.

He possessed only this much emotional capacity; it couldn't be squandered.

Why be bleak? What exactly was there to be bleak about?

Had Sebastian endured an absolute crisis today? No.

Had Sebastian called him "Dad" today? No.

Had Sebastian rolled out of Riverdale Prep today? No.

Therefore, he lacked any qualification to be bleak.

Asher suddenly felt thoroughly enlightened. Standing up abruptly, he prepared to head back home, leaving Sebastian with nothing but a ruthless view of his back.

Sebastian comprehended Asher far too well, knowing exactly how to effortlessly strip him of those negative emotions. Letting out a soft smile behind him—one laced with a fair hint of indulgence—he stood up. Taking several long strides with his long legs, he caught up with Asher, walking back alongside him shoulder to shoulder.

Over the course of just a single evening, a thin layer of leaves had accumulated on the sycamore road once more. Stepping over them, an occasional crisp rustle of breaking twigs filled the air.

Asher suddenly recalled something. "How exactly did you track me down? Don't tell me it was a random coincidence; there's no way it was that lucky."

"Uh, when you were little, whenever you were unhappy, you would always run to that exact spot to hide. I grew accustomed to heading there to search for you."

"Oh."

So he actually possessed a habit like that. He hadn't paid attention to it himself over all these years.

With a sharp crunch, Asher stepped on and broke a dead branch resting across his path.

Actually, using Sebastian occasionally wasn't entirely out of the question.

Asher and Sebastian had requested a leave of absence at the exact same time.

This sent the gossiping crowd into absolute overdrive, triggering every single type of wild rumor and speculation imaginable.

Caleb’s big mouth possessed absolutely no boundaries. Regarding exactly how Sebastian had enraged Asher, and how Asher had subsequently established a military pledge, he added a massive amount of oil and vinegar, detailing the story with absolute color and vibrancy.

A rumor travels through ten, then a hundred, undergoing an endless cycle of artistic embellishment.

Consequently, the entire school caught wind of the fact that their original big shot and the newly arrived big shot were astronomically incompatible.

Presumably, when kings clash face-to-face, blood must be drawn.

Word was that the two had locked themselves in a brutal, hand-to-hand brawl, suffering mutual devastation to the point of breaking limbs, before being dragged to the hospital by an ambulance to undergo emergency rescue all night long.

Sebastian received a message from Lulu right before heading to bed that evening.

[That absolute bastard Sebastian! He actually struck my boy! He even beat my boy straight into the hospital! What a predator!!! Ahhhh!!!]

B.S.: [... ]

Lulu: [Why aren't you cursing him? Have you ceased to love Ash? As the vice-president, how on earth can you stop loving Ash? Doesn't your heart break for him?]

Sebastian: ...

If facts were strictly reviewed, he himself had been scratched by Asher yesterday; he was the definitive victim of domestic abuse here.

Yet the matter of Asher's presentation couldn't be disclosed.

Sebastian typed with a deadpan face: [Love him. Heartbroken. Sebastian is a piece of trash.]

Lulu: [And a complete violent maniac!]

B.S.: [Violent maniac.]

Lulu: [I curse him to never find a single packet of seasoning inside his instant noodles for the rest of his life!]

B.S.: [No seasoning.]

Lulu: [Sigh, forget it. A soft girl like you clearly doesn't know how to curse people, making it difficult for me to unleash my full capacity. Unstimulating. I’m going to find other members.]

Sebastian: ...

Sticking to his principle of learning, he clicked into Lulu's profile status.

And then he encountered virtually every single profanity he recognized in existence.

...

He recalled that Lulu was a remarkably sweet and bashful little girl on regular days. Did Omegas genuinely turn this explosive behind closed doors nowadays?

Then what exactly would Asher look like if he truly exploded in rage?

Sebastian clicked his tongue, intending to cook a bowl of instant noodles to soothe his shocked system.

Casually tearing open a packet, he found nothing but a solitary block of noodles.

There was indeed no seasoning.

...

Sebastian felt that to infiltrate the enemy lines and spy on the military intelligence, he had truly sacrificed far too much.

When Asher and Sebastian arrived the next morning completely intact, stepping down from the exact same car and walking into the classroom together, the spectating crowd rubbed their eyes intensely.

Caleb opened his eyes wide, rapidly grabbing at Asher’s clothes to pinch his arms and pat his thighs, speaking with absolute disbelief, "Holy crap! It’s actually real! How are you not short of a single piece?"

Asher was somewhat out of the loop. "?"

Sebastian, being the one in the know, lifted the claw that was touching all over Asher’s frame away with a deadpan face. "Internal injuries."

So that was it.

The crowd suffered a wave of absolute enlightenment.

Caleb cupped his hands in a martial salute. "When top masters clash, this humble one can only express his profound respect."

Asher: "???"

What on earth?

Sebastian tapped a finger against his temple. "His brain—you know how it is."

Asher reached a flash of understanding, offering a look of tender pity as he stroked Caleb's head.

Caleb: "?"

Why do I feel as though I was just profoundly insulted?

Sitting down in his seat, Asher caught sight of an extra desk and chair resting at the back of the opposite row. Every other spot featured two desks pushed together; that one sat completely solitary.

Caleb forgot about the insult, offering his explanation: "You guys weren't here yesterday, so you don't know. An elite-training student joined our class."

A so-called elite-training student was essentially an impoverished student who received an exemption from tuition and boarding fees, selected from rural townships to study as a transfer student.

Riverdale Prep was a private school with exceptionally high fees across the board, and had never admitted an elite-training student before.

Caleb leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper: "Word is—strictly rumor, mind you—the Board of Education granted our school an extra early-admission slot for the top national university this year, precisely on the condition that we accept him in exchange."

Mason also leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower: "I feel if it's an exchange, it’s an exchange, but why on earth did they transfer him into our Class 1? Wouldn't the slackers in Class 5 be a better fit?"

Caleb utilized pure breath to articulate his words: "Probably to demonstrate our school’s absolute sincerity."

Using an even lighter breath, Mason murmured, "Then aren't they worried he won't be able to keep up? Dragging the average down is one thing, but what if it completely crushes his self-confidence?"

Caleb’s breath felt ready to cut off: "I—have—no—idea—"

Asher’s face was completely blasted by the hot air from the pair. Shoving them away with a look of deep disgust, he snapped, "Alright, drop the endless nagging. Mason is one thing, but Caleb, take an objective look at your own grades. Has your self-confidence genuinely never suffered a crushing blow before?"

Caleb: "...At least I took twenty-second place in our class last time, alright?"

The entire class consisted of thirty students.

Asher extended a thumb. "Formidable. Staggering progress."

"Thank you for the praise, Ash!" Caleb actually began to look thoroughly delighted.

Asher couldn't bear to look at him any longer. Turning his head toward Sebastian, he asked, "Want to swap positions? I'll sit over there."

Sebastian picked up Asher's water cup, standing up. "No need."

With that, he walked over to the water dispenser.

Asher stared at his back, curling his lip.

Mason was remarkably sharp. "Ash, don't you only ever sit in the seat by the window? Why did you suddenly think about swapping positions?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I was simply worried a certain someone might suffer a psychological trauma."

"What kind of trauma?"

With a sharp clack, a water cup was dropped straight onto Asher's desk, completely blocking Mason's curiosity.

Sebastian sat back down in his seat, lowering his head to flip through his book. "Don't listen to his nonsense."

Asher picked up the cup to take a sip. "Fine, then consider it my absolute nonsense."

Caleb nudged his chin toward the door. "Look, the guy is here."

Asher slanted a glance toward the doorway. Sure enough, Mr. Bennett was leading a fresh face inside.

He appeared to be a Beta, possessing relatively clean features and a decent height, yet he was exceptionally thin—not the lean, toned kind of thin, but a sallow, emaciated state that radiated a clear wave of malnutrition.

Mr. Bennett cleared his throat. "Let me introduce your new classmate, Eugene. From this day forward, he is a member of our class. Everyone must offer mutual aid and progress together."

Perhaps because the gap between him and the previous transfer student was too vast, or perhaps because everyone had caught wind of the situation beforehand, although the crowd clapped, the applause lacked any real fervor—merely a polite front.

Students of this age couldn't be described as materialistic; they simply possessed a massive horde of pride. Especially this pack of golden boys in Class 1—their eyes sat at the very tops of their heads. They rarely extended an intense wave of warmth toward an outsider who suddenly broken into their collective entity.

The only reason Sebastian had been accepted so rapidly and crowned as a legend was due to his absolute, unyielding strength. As long as someone was powerful enough, this crowd would extend their genuine submission.

Or someone like Caleb, who was born with exceptional emotional intelligence despite his low academic capacity, making him thoroughly endearing and capable of fitting in anywhere.

Yet clearly, Eugene belonged to neither category.

However, he didn't appear to develop any negative emotions from this far-from-friendly reaction. With a face full of compliance, he walked straight to his designated seat, pulling out his books.

Mason was the class representative and possessed the personality of a nagging caretaker by nature. Actively assuming the responsibility of uniting the new classmate, he pulled out a notebook and handed it over to Eugene. "Here, this tracks our current progress. Take a look so you can establish a basic understanding."

Eugene accepted it with both hands, looking thoroughly overwhelmed by the favor. "Thank you very much."

"Heh, nothing to thank me for. I'm Mason, the class representative for Class 1. This idiot next to me is Caleb, the sports representative."

With that, he pointed toward the back row. "That one is Asher, known across the school as Ash—our school boss. The one next to him is Sebastian, known across the board as Boss Seb—our school heartthrob. They also happen to be the top two scorers in our grade—staggering beauties and star scholars. If there's anything you don't know, just ask them."

The two staggeringly handsome star scholars remained completely expressionless, one more deadpan than the other.

"..."

Sebastian was difficult to read, but Mason comprehended Asher perfectly—a classic young master temper, arrogant, unable to drop his proud front, yet possessing a warm heart beneath a sour face.

Fearing the new classmate would mistakenly assume he was being targeted, Mason quickly chuckled. "Of course, asking me is fine too. After all, I am the former rank two."

Eugene nodded with total gravity. "Mm. Former Rank Two, you are a truly good person."

Suddenly receiving a "good person" card, Mason: "..."

The new classmate appeared to be... a bit lacking in sharpness.

The far-from-sharp new classmate cast another glance toward the two big shots sitting side by side across the aisle.

His eyes held a trace of envy. "You guys are so handsome."

"..."

"Are you two handsome guys a couple?"

"?"

"My grandfather is a fortune teller, and I’ve learned a bit from him. This school boss's face is blooming with peach blossoms, and this school heartthrob's marriage star is highly active. The features of your faces match perfectly; if you stay together, you will serve as mutual pillars of fortune..."

Fearing the new classmate would be stuffed into a sack and beaten to death tonight, Mason delivered a well-intentioned disruption: "They are both Alphas."

He paused for a brief second, summoning his courage to offer a diplomatic addition: "And their relationship can hardly be described as harmonious."

"Ah? Is that so? I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry. My skills fall short; I originally assumed the one sitting by the window was an Omega. I misjudged completely. I am deeply sorry; please do not be angry."

Although his mouth delivered apologies, the look in his eyes couldn't conceal a lingering wave of unfulfilled regret, his face radiating a giant declaration of absolute pity.

"..."

What on earth are you regretting, and what exactly are you pitying?

Knowing that he genuinely was an Omega, Asher couldn't deliver a righteous, face-slapping rebuttal. He could only twitch the corner of his mouth. "It's fine. Not angry, and I can't blame you. I can only blame myself for insisting on growing a pair of peach blossom eyes."

Lowering his head, Sebastian let out a silent chuckle. "Mm, it's fine. I'm not angry either."