"So," Teacher Wong began, looking over the class, "in three weeks, you'll complete your first trimester. I'm proud of the special first-years."
Something felt off.
He looked exactly the same—
but for some reason, now I could actually remember his face.
"Teacher… you seem different," Miguel said, voicing what I was thinking.
"As you know, all academy instructors possess special abilities. Mine is concealment. To maintain it, I keep a portion of my power active—so people who meet me can't remember me clearly. But if I increase it…"
He stopped.
And vanished.
A ripple of startled voices spread through the room.
"Yes, I can turn invisible," he said, reappearing as if nothing had happened. "But there's a drawback—I can still be sensed." His gaze shifted to Alma. "My specialization is reconnaissance. But that's not what I wanted to discuss."
"Hopefully it's something good," Robert muttered.
"It is, Torrent." Wong nodded. "Today, I want to commend you. First-years rarely stand out in their first trimester. Yet in your class, six students already have personal instructors—and some of you have more than one."
His gaze lingered on Alma.
Then on me.
Alma trained under Wong and another instructor in intelligence gathering—but while Wong taught subtlety, the other trained her in the exact opposite.
"Since the rest of your classes are already divided into groups, we won't wait until the third trimester to remove general lectures. After the New Year holidays, each of you will follow an individual schedule. It may change as your abilities develop."
"So we won't have to attend theory classes with the elites anymore?" Alma asked.
"Some of you still will. That depends on your test results." He paused. "Now—before the general assembly. Holivan, have you chosen a martial arts instructor?"
I flinched.
Over the past week, three instructors had approached me.
Muay Thai.
Taekwondo.
Krav Maga.
Krav Maga was out immediately—too dependent on raw strength.
That left Muay Thai—something one of my brothers had practiced in my previous life—
and Taekwondo.
Something I already knew.
Logically, the choice was obvious.
So why was I hesitating?
"No, Teacher Wong," I sighed.
"Then decide before the assembly ends."
A knock at the door.
A small girl stood there—slanted eyes, tightly coiled hair piled high on her head.
"Teacher Wong. May I?"
"Come in, Taisha. What is it?"
She moved inside.
Silent.
Too smooth.
Not walking—
gliding.
Her chin tilted up slightly as her black eyes swept across the room.
Stopped.
On me.
She raised her hand.
Pointed.
"That one."
A pause.
"I want him."
I blinked.
Looked behind me.
"Excuse me?" I said, kicking Robert under the desk as he nearly burst out laughing.
"I was clear," she said. Calm. Flat. "I want you."
Wong cleared his throat—definitely hiding a smile.
"Alan. This is Taisha Chen. She teaches martial arts."
"Oh," I exhaled.
"You don't understand the honor I'm offering you," she said. No emotion. "This martial art was created by my ancestor. He took the strongest techniques and fused them into one system. No rules. No limits. Under my guidance, you will be able to defeat a hundred opponents."
"…That sounds like bullshit," Robert muttered.
"You." She pointed at him without even looking. "This one will lose to him on the last day of the year."
Her gaze moved again.
Another student.
Then another.
Assigning fights.
For me.
"Wait," I cut in. "You're moving way too fast. I haven't even chosen what I'm studying yet."
"My menseo has already chosen you," she said.
No explanation.
No clarification.
Just that.
"And you've already challenged three of your classmates. How do you plan to face them without me?"
My eyes widened.
When the hell did I do that?
…Right.
Just now.
Through her.
"I accept," Matthew said calmly, smiling slightly.
"Same," Robert smirked, ignoring the look I shot him. "What? I want to see how your scrawny ass survives this." He flexed his arm.
In the end—
all three accepted.
Of course they did.
Taisha nodded once.
Satisfied.
"I'll inform the others you've declined. Tomorrow. Dawn. Dorm entrance."
And just like that—
she was gone.
"…Who the hell is she?" I muttered.
"That's Taisha Chen," Wong said. "One of the few defenders who entered the academy by choice—not necessity. Her family has sent students here for generations. Every member is born with awakened sight. Their power manifests around the age of six."
…Right.
So basically—
aristocracy.
Just not the usual kind.
"Well," I sighed, "guess I don't need to think about it anymore."
"Believe me—you're incredibly lucky. From second year onward, students compete just for a chance to train under her. She rarely takes anyone. The fact that she came for you herself…"
I woke up at five in the morning.
No idea why.
Then—
pain.
Sharp.
In my side.
I jerked—
tried to shout—
A hand clamped over my mouth.
Small.
Cold.
I froze.
Taisha Chen is insane.
That was my first clear thought.
She was sitting on my hips.
In one hand—a long, needle-like piece of metal. Too big to be normal.
The other—
over my mouth.
"What the hell—!" I tried to yell.
Came out muffled.
"I told you I'd be waiting at the dorm entrance," she said calmly. "You didn't come. What else was I supposed to do?"
She removed her hand.
"You could've agreed on a time," I snapped under my breath. "Or just woken me up like a normal person."
"I did wake you up." She tilted her head slightly. "Get up. First training session. I don't intend for you to disgrace my name in three weeks."
"If you didn't want that, maybe don't throw challenges around for me!" I snapped. "I barely earned my badges—and thanks to you, I'm about to lose them!"
"You have five," she corrected. "And if I said I'll train you, I will."
She lifted the needle slightly.
Not threatening.
Not even aggressive.
Just—
fact.
"Don't make me use this again. Get dressed."
She stepped off me.
Silent.
Like she hadn't been there at all.