A tall young man sat in his new classroom, his face concealed behind a black mask and black glasses. He wore black trousers, a black hoodie, and black dress shoes, his hood pulled over his head. He appeared to be an incredibly mysterious person — extraordinarily mysterious.
The young man thought to himself: "So many things have happened to me. Ugh... I can still feel that hardships await me in the future. But I am ready — ready to push through them without breaking."
The young man was 14 years old, appearing completely emotionless. He wanted to feel other emotions too. He had even rubbed onions and pepper into his eyes, yet still could not cry — he had simply become emotionless.
He thought to himself: "I have gotten used to this village. My participation in boxing brought fame to the village I live in. I am a multiple boxing champion. What surprises people most is not my title — but the fact that I became a boxing champion without ever removing my mask. Of course, many questions come my way: 'Why do you wear a mask and black bandana in front of your opponent? Doesn't it cause difficulties? How do you see through them?'... and so on. I defeat my opponents with a single strike. I don't even use 5% of my strength for that strike — if I'm not mistaken."
Ding, ding, ding... The bell rang.
He thought to himself: "This is my first time ever setting foot in a school. In all 14 years of my life, this is the first time I have stepped into one. Yet today, I am here. The reason I was accepted is that despite never receiving formal education, I completed an extremely difficult entrance exam with a perfect score. It seems the school decided a genius like this could not be turned away. I believe they also accepted me because of my reputation in the village. The school appears confident it will achieve great things with me..."
The classroom was empty — only the young man sat there alone. Suddenly, a group of girls entered the classroom. However, upon seeing the strange young man, they quietly took their seats and settled in, perhaps slightly frightened.
The girls whispered among themselves: "Who is that?" "He's scary to me." "What if he turns out to be a maniac..." "Come on, stop saying things like that, what do you mean maniac..." — their whispers carrying clearly to the young man's ears.
He noticed and understood, yet paid them no mind and sat quietly.
Shortly after, the boys entered the classroom. As they came in, the class Ataman's eyes landed on the strange young man.
(The class Ataman — Bakzhan, the strongest boy in class, slightly troublesome.)
Bakzhan: "Hm... who's this? A new student?"
Second Ataman: "Impossible... it's really him... the champion is right in front of you."
(Ermek — the second Ataman of the class, meaning the strongest boy after Bakzhan. He also participated in boxing and still does. He had started boxing two years before the young man. He is one of the elite boxing students in the boxing club, and currently, a massive fan of the young man.)
Bakzhan: "Wow... Hm... I'm curious — why has he covered his face? Is he that ugly? Ha ha ha ha..." he laughed.
Ermek spoke up, as if afraid of something, warning Bakzhan: "Hey... Bakzhan, my friend, don't say that... It seems you don't know how strong he is. If you did, you wouldn't be joking like this — you wouldn't be provoking him like this."
Bakzhan: "Huh... is that so? But his appearance is very interesting to me..." and he reached out to remove the young man's mask.
The young man caught his hand in time and stopped him.
Bakzhan: "Pff... Ow... what kind of strength is this!?" His eyes went wide.
The entire class was stunned — because without realizing it, the young man had gripped Bakzhan's hand so tightly he nearly crushed it like a walnut.
Young man: "Huh... I apologize, however I don't believe it is the right decision to interfere in someone's life without permission." He said it as a mild warning, his expression completely emotionless.
Ermek, flustered: "Champ... don't be upset... I'll explain things to that idiot myself later."
Bakzhan, furious, lunged toward the young man: "Why you...!!!" he shouted — just as the homeroom teacher walked in.
(Homeroom teacher — Yerbol Bakytjanuly, 30 years old, head teacher of class 9"A".)
Yerbol entered with an angry expression and began scolding Bakzhan: "What is going on here!!! Instead of befriending the new student, you..."
Bakzhan immediately lowered his head upon seeing Yerbol: "I'm sorry... teacher." He looked down.
The young man stood up, completely emotionless, yet met Yerbol's eyes directly: "It's alright... sensei. It doesn't matter — please forgive them. I share some of the blame as well."
Yerbol composed himself, cleared his throat, and prepared to speak: "Very well... if you forgive them, I have no objection either."
Yerbol sensei: "So then... new student, if you'd introduce yourself — the floor is yours."
The young man walked to the board, stood in the center: "My full name... is Aibar Rasululy."
Yerbol sensei smiled slightly: "Wonderful... Aibar... a truly wonderful name. Oh, by the way, let me introduce myself — Yerbol Bakytjanuly. Simply, Yerbol sensei." He glanced at his watch. "I have a few matters to attend to. You can talk and get to know each other from here." And he left to handle his affairs.
The moment Yerbol sensei stepped out, the first subject teacher walked in and class began.
Classes proceeded one after another. Aibar had already become the teachers' favorite student.
Ding, ding, ding... The bell rang.
Before the last class began — break time. Bakzhan sat in his seat, deliberately staring at Aibar and provoking him.
Bakzhan: "Whatever else I may be, I'm not like some people. Yes, I'm troublesome — but people like me for it, and I have many friends because of it. But some people, without showing their face, act as if they're superior, as if they consider themselves above everyone else. Yet even though they want to appear special, they don't even realize they're frightening all the girls."
Aibar sat calmly in his seat, emotionless, paying him no attention.
Bakzhan smiled slightly: "I'm sure you understand who I'm talking to, newbie. In one word — you yourself are what makes you repulsive. And I'm starting to dislike you for this arrogance of yours. You understand that, right? Compared to you, I'm a far more open and cheerful person..." he said, looking at Aibar.
Aibar: "Arrogance? Interesting..."
Bakzhan grew slightly irritated: "What's interesting about it... I'll probably end up disliking people like you my whole life."
Aibar, calmly: "Dislike... I think 'Envy' would be more accurate. I haven't boasted about anything yet. And even if I were to boast — even then, you shouldn't oppose me. Because what I want, I choose myself. Also... arrogance is not a feeling that exists in my mind. On the contrary, seeing my appearance... might have an unpleasant effect on you. Ugh... alright."
Aibar stood up and walked to Bakzhan's desk.
Aibar, calm and emotionless: "Do you want to see my face? But this might be difficult for you..."
Bakzhan jumped to his feet and faced him: "Hey... arrogant one, what are you trying to say..."
Aibar, calmly: "Nothing much... Do all of you want to see my face? Am I that interesting to you? Very well... I'll try to fulfill your wishes. Then gather every boy in this school who can fight. If you defeat me, I'll show you my face. Also... you may take wooden sticks or any other weapons — while I won't use either of my hands."
The teachers who heard this objected — however, this school ranked number one in all of Kazakhstan for delinquency. The students didn't even obey the teachers. At present, they had been holding themselves back, avoiding causing major disturbances or fights. They were temporarily obeying the teachers just to keep themselves in check.
Aibar's bold words spread through the school quickly. After hearing his reputation and wanting to see his face, a great many came forward — virtually all the boys in the school agreed to the fight. Some of the delinquents were angry — because Aibar's words, "you can use weapons," felt like he was looking down on them, and it infuriated them greatly.
Among the delinquents, the talk was that no matter how many championships Aibar had won, he was still human. The way he spoke was unacceptable. So some of the troublemakers were furious and felt he needed to answer for it. A cunning plan came to their minds — to break Aibar's arms and legs and cripple him.
The fight began. The strongest among the gathered delinquents attacked first. Aibar effortlessly let his clumsy strikes pass without letting them land. The rest of the delinquents swung at Aibar with whatever weapons they had found — yet couldn't land a single hit. Aibar moved at blinding speed, evading and defending, drawing out the fight.
The strongest delinquent shouted: "Coward, you're weak..." The moment Aibar heard that, he immediately launched a counterattack. Without any difficulty, he kicked and defeated them all with ease. He calculated his strikes so precisely that each person received exactly enough force to knock them down with a single kick.
Students and teachers watching through the windows were in shock.
After defeating everyone, Aibar said calmly: "I won."
He stood still for a brief moment, then spoke calmly: "Alright, it doesn't matter. Even though I've defeated you all, I want to remove this cursed mask. Yes, if I remove it, I'll frighten you all — but I think the time has come. Because you were curious about my appearance and wanted to see it. I believe you will accept me as I am."
Every student's eyes were on Aibar. The students and teachers inside the school watched and waited.
Aibar: "Alright..." — he first removed the black glasses, then removed his mask.
Everyone was in shock. Dead silence.
Aibar slowly opened his eyes.
Aibar's appearance: black hair, handsome features, his athletic build evident from his perfectly defined jawline, well-proportioned, over 190cm tall, strikingly beautiful red eyes, a small black mole beneath the lip on the left side of his face. A cool-blooded, yet strikingly handsome young man.
Students and teachers: "Woooooow..."
All the girls, unable to take their eyes off him, slightly lost in thought: "Impossible... He's a prince."
The boys: "Incredible... I envy him..."
Even the teachers, admiring his striking appearance: "He had told us we'd be frightened. I thought his face must have been unsightly. But how could anyone hide a face like that — he's every woman's dream."
Aibar, completely emotionless: "Huh???"
The delinquents, feeling they could never be a match for Aibar, had no choice but to acknowledge their defeat.The last class continued. Almost every girl in the class had fallen for Aibar, unable to take their eyes off him. And so, class ended.
Aibar returned home. He arrived, opened the door, and stepped inside. His teacher was waiting to greet him.
(Aibar's servant and teacher — Azamat, 34 years old now.)
Azamat: "Master, how was your first day at school? It seems you removed your mask and glasses and showed your true face..."
Aibar, in a composed and calm voice: "It was a good day. Yes — my true appearance is no longer hidden."
Azamat: "Master... when you have a free moment, could you take a look at a few of my parts that need restoring?"
*(Aibar's teacher Azamat — when Aibar turned 10 years old, in an explosion of unknown origin, he lost his entire body. Fortunately, his internal organs remained intact, and Aibar brought him back. However, in place of his body, he now had iron. He no longer resembled a human — he was closer to a machine.)*
Aibar, emotionless yet with a warm voice: "Of course, teacher. If you'd like, I can look at it right now."
Azamat: "No, Master — at least eat first."
Aibar, calmly: "Alright, teacher — please wait just a moment..."
Azamat: "Master, take your time eating. I will wait however long you need."
Aibar, emotionless, to himself: *"I make you this promise again, teacher — I will restore your human form. I am indebted to you for this, because you ended up in this state trying to protect me. Forgive me..."*
Azamat looked at Aibar, noticing he had drifted into his own thoughts again: "Ugh... Master, are you thinking about that incident again? Please don't worry about it — you are not to blame at all..."
Not wanting his teacher to worry, Aibar replied with a blank expression, telling a small lie: "No, teacher — I wasn't thinking about that incident. Never mind it, please don't worry. I'll finish eating quickly..."
Azamat, to himself: *"Master... no. Aibar — I know exactly how you carry yourself when that memory comes back to you. It's written all over your face. The promise you made — I remember it. And I am ready to wait however long it takes."*
Azamat looked at Aibar in silence for a brief moment, then said in a warm voice: "I'll be waiting for you in the laboratory." And he walked in.
Aibar finished his meal, went to tend to his teacher's needs, and after resolving them, turned his attention to his garden. Then, as night fell, he went to bed at his usual time — and drifted off to sleep.
The next day, dawn broke. Aibar woke up, ate the breakfast Azamat had prepared for him, and headed to school. He arrived early, wiped the blackboard, watered the flowers, soaked the cleaning rags, and put the classroom in perfect order. Then the other students began to arrive. The teacher came in and Mathematics class began. After Math ended, the next class began, and when it too ended, it was time for Aibar's scheduled meal. He ate, and intending to clean up when he returned, left without tidying up first — stepping out to wash his hands.
When Aibar returned to his seat after washing his hands, the class leader was waiting for him.
(Class leader— full name: Sauletayeva Symbat. She had ranked first in the school academically — until Aibar arrived, of course. She sat next to Aibar as his desk neighbor.)
Symbat, with a dismissive, cold tone: "Why did you leave without cleaning up — how rude."
Aibar's expression darkened. He began walking toward the class leader, closing in until she was nearly against the wall, placing one hand against it, looked at her — then composed himself and spoke calmly: "I apologize — I had intended to clean up after washing my hands. I'll do it now." He said it warmly.
Aibar tidied up. The class leader stood frozen in place, unable to take her eyes off him.
Symbat thought to herself: "What is this feeling... what? No, no, no... impossible — is he really like this!? What... am I starting to fall for him? Impossible..." she thought, flustered, her cheeks turning red.
Classes continued one after another. Physical Education — the 4th class — was about to begin. The boys were in the changing room. Aibar walked in. As he began changing, removing his white shirt, every boy's jaw dropped.
Boys: "What a physique... defined abs, muscles clearly visible, incredible — a perfect body with no excess fat, the ideal physical form every guy dreams of..." they stared in amazement.
Aibar finished changing, cast a cold look at the boys staring at him, and said in a firm voice: "Let's go." And walked out.
Physical Education class began. The students warmed up, then started playing football on the school stadium. For Aibar, the school stadium felt small — he effortlessly struck goals from one end to the other without difficulty. The boys were afraid to block his shots, because Aibar's strikes flew with terrifying force. However, Aibar switched to dribbling his way to goal and began striking as softly as he could — yet even then, taking the ball from him was impossible.
Class ended, and everyone headed to the changing room. Aibar was the last to finish organizing everything and was heading to the changing room when he suddenly noticed something.
He spotted a figure hovering in the air — and Aibar understood immediately that this was not a good sign. He contacted Azamat.
The hovering figure laughed loudly, speaking in a cheerful voice: "My name is Asanali. I command — let the school principal come before me. Quickly — otherwise I'll drag him out myself. I'll give you 10 seconds..."
Aibar looked upward at him with a cold expression and cold voice, meeting his eyes directly: "Who are you to be giving commands. Have you not heard the saying — an uninvited guest sits on an unswept place. Know your place..." He walked slowly toward Asanali, eyes fixed on him.
Asanali looked downward, his expression revealing his anger at Aibar's words. "What did you say..." he snapped — then composed himself, smiled slightly: "Ah well... I'm not really a guest anyway... You're bold — are you in a hurry to die?"
Just then, Azamat arrived and handed Aibar his weapons. Aibar told Azamat to leave.
Asanali, dismissing it as a joke, glared at Aibar furiously and shouted: "You're ignoring me!? How dare you!" — and began firing lightning at Aibar.
Aibar's first weapon — a wristwatch. He strapped it onto his wrist and raised a shield. (The wristwatch projects a holographic defense — an extremely strong holographic shield appears, and Aibar stands protected behind it.)
Aibar defended with everything he had. Yet the heaviest strikes of lightning came crashing like being hit by a vehicle. Aibar drew his second weapon — a massive two-handed sword. He took it up and launched a counterattack. Aibar leaped upward through the air as if climbing invisible steps.
However, staying airborne required enormous energy and strength from his legs. Aibar pressed the counterattack — yet Asanali had a protective layer of his own. (Asanali — a wielder of 3 elements: wind, fire, and electricity.) A layer of wind completely enveloped his body. Aibar's strikes could not penetrate it. His attacks were rendered useless.
Asanali struck the relentlessly attacking Aibar with a blast of wind, sending him flying a great distance. However, someone had remained outside — Symbat.
Asanali noticed Symbat: "Huh... who's this... though I don't really care..." and began firing electricity at Symbat.
Aibar threw himself in the path of the electric strikes, taking them with his body. His clothing began to burn. He tore it off and threw it aside. His back was drenched in blood. Aibar removed the shield and gave it to Symbat.
Aibar caught sight of an open window, looked at Symbat, and said calmly: "I may not be able to block every strike with my body — but I will be your shield. Get inside through that open window." And he went, serving as her shield all the way to the window.
Asanali relentlessly continued firing electricity at Aibar without pause. Symbat entered the school through the window and returned the shield to Aibar. But Aibar was now drenched in blood — and had grown weak.