"System, you backstabber!!!"
He grumbled under his breath as he stepped into the room—a massive hall packed with 500 first-years who'd aced their entrance exams. The moment his shoes hit the polished floor, every single pair of eyes locked onto him.
"Is he actually dense?" someone muttered nearby.
"Luke LessHeart?"
A sharp, steady voice cut through the murmur. It wasn't raised, but it carried clear as a bell straight to him.
Wow… Ares Storm himself. Luke's gaze landed on the imposing man, whose intricate tattoos seemed to pulse with quiet power. He looked exactly like the god of war come to life—all sharp lines and commanding presence.
"Yes, sir?" Luke snapped to attention, standing rigid as he caught snickers rippling through the crowd.
"Do you know what time it is?" Ares asked, his eyes flicking down to his wristwatch without breaking eye contact.
"Past 8 o'clock, sir."
"Then remind me—what was the call time?"
Sweat beaded on Luke's forehead, and the weight of hundreds of stares sent goosebumps prickling down his neck.
"7, sir." Wouldn't be late if that petty excuse for a system hadn't messed with me… he seethed internally. Fuck you.
[Host, that's hardly polite.]
…
"So why were you late?" Ares pressed, his jaw set.
"I overslept, sir." Luke answered flatly. Why lie and risk double punishment? Damn this 'honesty first' trait I got stuck with…
A wave of stifled snorts and giggles exploded into full-blown laughter across the hall. Apparently, telling a professor the unvarnished truth was unheard of around here.
Ares's eyes narrowed into slits—they looked sharp enough to slice through steel.
"This is your only warning," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Be late again, and we'll be sending you straight to the Tower."
Color drained from Luke's face faster than water down a drain. He wasn't the only one—every student in the room went pale. No one wanted to set foot in that place, not without their blessing or weapon in hand.
"Sir, yes, sir!" Luke barked, snapping off a crisp salute.