Class 7-C was exactly as I expected: loud, chaotic, and filled with kids who had too much energy and too little self-awareness.
Sitting at the very back corner by the window, I felt like a king who had just claimed his throne. The morning sun warmed my face, the breeze from the slightly open window was perfectly refreshing, and the distance from the teacher's podium was ideal for my ultimate goal: doing absolutely nothing.
I crossed my arms on the cool surface of my desk and rested my chin on them, letting out a satisfied breath.
"Hey, Luke!" a voice squeaked beside me.
I cracked one eye open. A kid with braces and a haircut that looked like his mom had used a bowl to trim it was leaning over the aisle. I vaguely recognized him from my fuzzy memories of Luke.
"Did you catch the new episode of Space Mutants this weekend?" the kid asked, his eyes wide with excitement. "I can't believe they killed off Captain Zorg! My mom said I shouldn't watch it, but I totally snuck out of bed."
Two other kids sitting in front of me turned around, clearly eager to join the conversation and gossip about cartoon aliens.
I looked at them, then slowly closed my eye again.
"Too busy," I mumbled lazily, burying my face back into my arms.
"Busy? With what?" the kid with braces asked, sounding confused. "You were just staring at the wall."
"Future plots," I replied simply, my voice muffled by my sleeves.
It wasn't a total lie. I was indeed busy formulating my future plots. Specifically, I was trying to map out a grand strategy on how to secure a high-end gaming PC without actually having to get a part-time job or do chores around the house.
My current plan involved finding a way to exploit Phil's love for "cool gadgets" and tricking him into buying it for "educational family bonding." It was a delicate plot that required my utmost mental energy.
Getting no further reaction from me, the kids muttered amongst themselves, calling me weird, and eventually went back to their own noisy chatter. I smiled against my arms. Being the 'weird, quiet kid' had its perks. People left you alone.
A few minutes later, the screech of the classroom door opening silenced the room.
A tall, stern-looking man in a crisp button-down shirt and a tie walked in, carrying a stack of papers. He had a perfectly groomed mustache and the kind of eyes that looked like they enjoyed giving out detentions. He wrote his name on the chalkboard in sharp, aggressive letters: Mr. Harrison.
"Alright, settle down. Books open to page forty-two," Mr. Harrison announced, his voice carrying a no-nonsense tone. "Today, we are diving into advanced sentence structures. Specifically, the present perfect tense, past participles, and the correct usage of complex prepositions."
A collective groan echoed through the classroom.
I lifted my head slightly, propping my cheek on my hand, and watched as the teacher began explaining the rules of English grammar. Within five minutes, I had to suppress a smirk.
As a nineteen-year-old college student in my past life, this was child's play. But more importantly, as a veteran reader of thousands of translated webnovels, my grasp of the English language was practically forged in fire.
When you've spent years deciphering poorly translated chapters about 'Daoist Immortals cultivating their internal energies' and 'young masters courting death,' standard middle school grammar was painfully easy to understand.
I glanced around the room. The faces of my classmates were a picture of pure agony and confusion. Some were scratching their heads, others were desperately trying to copy down the complicated diagrams Mr. Harrison was drawing on the board, and a few looked like their brains had just bluescreened.
Idiots, I chuckled internally.
Realizing there was absolutely nothing of value for me to learn here, I returned to my own affairs. I put my head back down on my arms, closed my eyes, and went back to meditating on my master plans. The drone of Mr. Harrison's voice became the perfect white noise.
Time passed peacefully. I was hovering right on the edge of a very comfortable nap when a sudden, heavy silence fell over the classroom. The white noise of the teacher's voice had stopped.
I felt a shadow fall over my desk.
My inner radar pinged. I could feel the collective gaze of twenty middle schoolers turning to look at the back corner of the room.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked up.
Mr. Harrison was standing right next to my desk, his arms crossed over his chest, his mustache twitching with irritation. His face was practically turning red.
"Having a nice nap, Mr. Dunphy?" he asked, his voice dripping with dangerous sarcasm.
The kids nearby snickered, whispering behind their hands.
"Look at Luke, he's totally busted." "He's been sleeping the whole time." "Mr. Harrison is gonna give him a week of detention for sure."
I sighed internally. So much for a peaceful morning.
Instead of panicking, stuttering, or making a goofy excuse like the original Luke would have done, I calmly pushed my chair back and stood up. I straightened my hoodie, looked him directly in the eye, and gave him a polite, entirely unbothered nod.
"Good day, teacher," I said smoothly, keeping my voice completely calm and relaxed. "I am very excited to see your next day's lecture."
The classroom went dead silent. A few jaws literally dropped. Even Mr. Harrison looked momentarily taken aback by the sheer audacity and politeness of my response. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting from a kid caught slacking off.
"Excited for the next lecture?" Mr. Harrison repeated, his eyes narrowing as he recovered his stern composure. "You boy, have you even noted down a single thing I have written on the board today? Your notebook is completely blank!"
The snickering around me grew a bit louder. The classic sitcom setup: the lazy kid gets humiliated by the strict teacher.
I just smiled faintly and shook my head. "Teacher, I haven't written anything down because I have listened to and understood all of your lecture. It's just that I was too busy absorbing the knowledge mentally to write it down on paper. If you don't believe me, you can ask me anything."
Gasp.
A collective intake of breath echoed through the room. The class was absolutely astonished. Even the kid with the braces looked at me like I had just grown a second head. Expecting punishment, this boy dared to comment such hilarious, arrogant things? Was Luke Dunphy suicidal?