Chapter 17

The atmosphere became a bit subtle.

Fortunately, Mr. Bennett spoke up just in time, breaking the awkward silence.

"Before class begins, let me make an announcement. As you all know, Riverdale Prep's senior year has always had a tradition: organizing a pep rally after the start of the term to forge your willpower and boost morale."

"Since this specific senior class happens to be the worst batch Director Peng has ever led, the school has decided to implement strict training. The pep rally has been set at the Fledgling Base for a five-day special military camp, officially starting next Saturday."

Wails and howls immediately erupted across the classroom.

"Aren't they always saying time is tight for seniors? Why the hell are they still wasting it on this kind of trash?"

"Other schools do military camps during freshman year. Our school does it in senior year—this is completely toxic."

"I want to take exams. I'm willing to take exams for five days straight."

"Willing to take exams plus one."

Mr. Bennett handed a form to the students in the front row, speaking in his usual slow manner. "Sharpening the axe doesn't delay cutting the wood. Look at how wilted and sickly you all look. If we don't train you properly, I'm worried you'll all collapse before you even make it to the university entrance exam."

These words were actually the absolute truth. More than half the students in Class 1 severely lacked exercise, beautifully justifying it by claiming that geniuses were simply shut-ins.

Another wave of heavy lamentations followed.

"Alright, howling won't do you any good. Pass the form down. Everyone fill in your name, height, weight, and gender. It's for making your camp uniforms and sorting your classes, so don't fill it in blindly. Turn it in after class."

The form was passed to Asher's row.

Name: Asher Height: 183 cm Weight: 64 kg Gender: Unpresented Alpha

Completing the fields without a single fraction of hesitation, he handed it to Sebastian with a perfectly deadpan face.

Sebastian didn't look at anything and said nothing. Writing 188, 70, A in the row below, he passed it straight to Eugene.

The boy's secret couldn't be used to tease him; it had to be properly guarded.

Once the form was passed along, he pulled his phone out from his desk. Covered by the hem of his loose uniform shirt, his fingertips rapidly tapped the screen a few times.

"Sebastian."

Mr. Bennett called out.

Worrying that his phone would be confiscated and his chat logs seen, Sebastian quickly deleted the message he had just sent before finally lifting his head.

Mr. Bennett pushed his glasses up his nose. "Come up and collect your and Asher's exam papers."

"Sure."

Just as he walked up, Mr. Bennett changed his mind. "Take yours back. Leave Asher's here."

Asher lifted his head with a look of absolute innocence.

Mr. Bennett offered an explanation: "I desperately need to see exactly what kind of ruthless heart it takes to score full marks in Math, Science, and English, yet thoroughly desecrate my Literature paper like this."

The questions for this joint exam had been simple. Both of them had scored full marks in Math, and English only suffered a two-point deduction on the essay section. In Science, Asher took a perfect 300 while Sebastian took 288. In Literature, Asher took 117 while Sebastian took 130.

Neither more nor less—the total scores differed by exactly one point.

If only Asher had extended a tiny sliver of politeness toward the Literature paper and put on an upstanding attitude with his handwriting, he wouldn't currently owe Sebastian a "Dad."

As the Literature teacher and homeroom tutor, Mr. Bennett felt deeply heartbroken. Casting a glance at the paper in his hand, he let out a sigh, removed his glasses to rub his eyes, put them back on, looked at the paper once more, and let out yet another sigh.

Asher curled his lip. Is this really necessary?

As if reading his thoughts, Mr. Bennett spoke from the podium with absolute agony, "Asher, is this necessary? A poetry analysis that you already learned back in the seventh grade, and you couldn't hit a single grading point?"

This time, it was a modern poetry analysis on Pushkin's If Life Deceives You. Virtually anyone could recite a line or two, so for Asher to fail every single grading point was truly a rare feat.

Returning to his seat, Sebastian put away his Literature paper and pulled out a comprehensive science tracking workbook.

Mr. Bennett possessed exceptionally sharp eyes. He had originally intended to beg Asher to show some heart toward Literature, but suddenly catching sight of a giant mechanics diagram appearing on the desk next to him, he nearly suffocated on his breath.

Yet reflecting on Sebastian’s Literature score, which completely crushed the humanities track, and his Science score, which clearly held onto some unspoken difficulties, he decided to turn a blind eye, continuing to pester Asher instead.

"Come, let's look at the first question: 'What specific situation does it refer to when life deceives you?' These four points are a complete freebie. Asher, can you find it in your heart to kindly accept them?"

Sebastian picked up a sliver of pure grievance from his new homeroom teacher's tone, feeling a bit bad for him.

Asher, however, was far more heartless. "It's not like I wrote on the paper that I didn't want them, but the grader still failed to deliver them to me."

"..."

"Doesn't that count as life deceiving me?"

"..."

Mr. Bennett's nostrils flared a couple of times. Restraining himself, he looked down at the paper, reading word for word with zero emotion: "Answer: This refers to the situation where certain individuals lack capability yet shift the absolute blame onto life."

Finishing his reading, he lifted his head to look at Asher, demanding a proper justification.

Yet catching sight of Sebastian next to him drawing a force analysis diagram with absolute focus, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. "Sebastian, come. Evaluate Asher's answer for me."

Stopping his pen, Sebastian lifted his head. "Pretty good."

"...Where exactly is it good?"

"The truth."

"I know you deem it good because it's the truth. I'm asking you why you think it's good."

"The precise reason I think it's good is because he spoke the truth."

The students of Class 1 felt their brains twisting a bit.

Meanwhile, Asher gave Mr. Bennett a nod of agreement, signaling the principal subject's absolute endorsement of the evaluation.

Exactly. Why would life have the spare time to deceive you? Those who spewed lines like that were simply shifting the blame.

He himself had transformed into an Omega after being deceived for over a decade, yet had he said a single word? No.

This Russian guy named Pushkin was simply being overly dramatic.

The two of them sat side by side in this manner, their expressions matching each other in absolute solemnity and gravity. Combined with the halos of city-wide rank one and rank two hovering over their heads, Mr. White, an excellent educator of the people, felt his heart ready to seize.

He decided to shift the battlefield to secure an ounce of achievement, instantly locking onto a certain soft target named Caleb who was currently napping in the front row.

"Caleb, come. Read this poem aloud for the class."

"Huh? Huh? What? Oh, right! If Life Forces Me!"

Mr. Bennett: "...Life isn't blind, why the hell would it force you?! Wipe the crust from your eyes before you read!"

He had dedicated his life to doing good deeds, so what kind of absolute sin had he committed to encounter a pack of students like this?

A low wave of good-natured chuckles rippled through the classroom.

Eugene felt a bit envious yet somewhat at a loss. Tilting his head, he asked Mason in an uncomfortable whisper, "Representative, do top schools always conduct classes in this manner?"

"Not entirely. For instance, Mr. Liu's Math class doesn't go like this, but most follow a similar vibe. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just unaccustomed to it. Classes back where I come from are exceptionally harsh and thoroughly boring. I originally assumed top schools were packed with pristine students."

"You mean to state you assumed we were all learning machines, right?"

"No... that's not what I meant..." Eugene looked a bit awkward.

Mason let out a casual smile. "I can guess. In any case, just take your time to adjust."

Riverdale Prep was a private school established not long ago. The principal had returned from studying abroad, possessing advanced educational concepts, and the students' family backgrounds were all excellent. The school focused heavily on cultivating comprehensive qualities. Combined with the fact that this pack of students in Class 1 counted as talented, the teachers kept a remarkably loose hand, creating a highly active atmosphere.

Consequently, it was somewhat inevitable for them to look down slightly on those students who ground through their books with desperate, exhausting effort. There wasn't much malice involved; the children in the ivory tower simply failed to comprehend that not everyone in the world was born with the exact same conditions.

Certain people could only clumsily expend every single ounce of their effort just to secure a sliver of hope to make their lives a bit better.

The people in the ivory tower failed to comprehend him, and he failed to comprehend the people in the ivory tower.

Goodwill and envy could undergo subtle shifts within this lack of mutual understanding.

Whether it turned out for the better or for the worse, no one could predict.

Mason didn't comprehend this truth, Eugene didn't comprehend this truth, and the Sebastian of the past hadn't comprehended this truth either.

Listening to the low conversation between Mason and Eugene beside his ear, Sebastian lowered his head to work through his problems.

There was zero change in his expression on the surface, yet for some unknown reason, Asher simply knew the guy's mind was drifting over past matters.

Relying on pure instinct, he pulled out his phone, wanting to chat with Sebastian.

Yet he was completely interrupted by a WeChat message Sebastian had sent over ten minutes prior.

[Sorting the classes for the military camp into the Alpha bracket will be a bit troublesome. Do we need to begin resistance training beforehand to let you adjust a bit?]

Asher hadn't even recalled this matter himself, yet this guy had given it his absolute priority.

Sure enough, he could be used occasionally.

[Sure. It just so happens we still have four or five days; I'll begin training to adjust a bit.]

Catching sight of a sliver of light illuminating from within the desk, Sebastian maintained his problem-solving with his pen in one hand, using the other to blind-type on his phone.

[Your place or mine?]

[My place. My mom won't be around tonight; I'll be the only one home.]

[Fine. Wait for me in your room tonight. I'll come over once I finish my shower.]

Excellent. The communication was thoroughly smooth.

Yet inexplicably, Asher felt this conversation was a bit awkward somewhere.

He felt Sebastian had definitively utilized some calculation within these few lines, yet he couldn't track down the criminal evidence.

Catching sight of a certain someone staring at the screen while thinking with a thoroughly perplexed expression out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian couldn't resist curving his lips.

Exactly then, Mason turned his head around to ask a question, finding his expression a bit terrifying.

"Brother, how on earth can you smile with such absolute, tender warmth at a friction diagram?"

Sebastian tapped the tip of his pen against the little ball resting near the edge of the wooden block, casually drawing a smiley face over it. "Look at this ball. Doesn't it appear a bit endearingly dazed?"

Mason: "...Brother, you are truly unique."

Presumably, this was the definitive reason why he could never rank first in the grade. Look at the big boss—the absolute, doting love he radiated toward a test question.

Asher felt Sebastian truly was a freak.

How could he actually fall for a physics ball?

Yet being a kind and highly tolerant person, he offered his comfort: [Sebbie, it's fine. Rest easy, I hold zero discrimination toward your sexual orientation. Tonight in my room—through wind or rain, your Ash awaits you.]

Looking at this thoroughly playful WeChat message, Sebastian restrained himself from telling him: Thank goodness you don't discriminate, after all—my sexual orientation from start to finish has held nothing but you.

However, Sebastian felt the training tonight didn't have to refrain from being a bit intense.