Thanks to her best friend Kailer taking some of Roy's heat, Saltana managed to avoid taking a week off work. After all, her paid vacation days were running dangerously low.
Kailer, though, wasn't so lucky. She hadn't competed in nearly a decade, and her first match back was against Roy, a total beast. By the end, she was in rough shape, to put it mildly.
Roy had to transform into his angelic form to heal Kailer's injuries—a rare treatment previously reserved for Serena.
"Roy, am I in heaven already?" Kailer asked, having never seen Roy's angelic form before. She genuinely thought she'd kicked the bucket.
"Nah, you've got at least another hundred years to go. God Himself sent me to bring you back," Roy teased.
Kailer burst out laughing. "Oh, you jerk! But wait, I see a halo! Roy, are you an angel?"
Saltana, standing nearby, smirked. "He's not just an angel—he's a devil too. Haven't you noticed?"
Kailer reached out to touch Roy's cheek. "Saltana's right. You're like a mix of angel and demon!"
Roy grinned, playfully grabbing their attention. "Still got energy to talk, huh? Looks like you're recovering nicely. How about…"
The moment he said it, Saltana and Kailer's faces filled with mock horror.
"No way! We surrender! Go find some other girls!" they cried, raising the white flag.
Seeing them opt out of round two, Roy just shrugged. "Fine, I'm heading back to school."
It was the first week of the semester, and Roy had only shown up at UCLA for registration and the next day. After that, he'd been off campus for days. He needed to check in, especially since Ellen Berg was getting antsy about him not showing up to the boxing club.
Truth be told, Roy's interest in boxing had faded. When he first arrived in this world, he thought he'd make some cash through fights. But now, standing where he was, he realized there were way more lucrative ways to make money.
Boxing was no longer about building wealth from scratch—it was about growing his assets and investing in things like labs. The leech serum formula sitting unused in his inventory required a professional lab and experts to produce.
Setting up a lab wasn't cheap, though. The money Roy had made playing the stock market like a Capitol Hill insider wasn't enough. He'd need to keep hustling.
Luckily, Roy knew the American dot-com bubble was about to burst. Buying up stock in well-known internet companies at rock-bottom prices was a surefire way to rake in a fortune.
Of course, Roy's deal for getting into UCLA included playing one year of NCAA for the school. That was non-negotiable.
But could Roy lose an NCAA match at this point? Unless he was up against someone like Samael, it seemed impossible.
"Hey, man! Haven't seen you in days!"
Back at the dorm, Roy was greeted by an enthusiastic Shodi Mix, his black roommate, who was filling out a stack of forms instead of livestreaming for once.
Roy raised an eyebrow. "Shodi, what's all that?"
"I'm filling out applications for fraternities. UCLA's got some nationally famous ones, and I'm trying to decide which to join!"
Fraternities, huh?
Fraternities were a big deal in American and European universities. What started as small, secret student gatherings to gossip about professors and peers had evolved into massive networking organizations. Some national fraternities had influence that reached into every corner of society.
Rich kids, political heirs, and genius students with high IQs and EQs used fraternities to build and maintain connections, passing down their parents' influence like genetic inheritance. Parents' recommendations made it easier for their kids to join the same fraternities, just like legacy admissions to universities.
People might think American college students all got in on their own merit, but many were admitted through their parents' alumni connections.
Roy, despite being born and raised in East Asia in his past life, had heard about American fraternities. They were known for wild, thrilling parties to attract top students—parties that sometimes led to tragedies. Since the 1970s, at least one fraternity-related death had been reported annually, often tied to dangerous initiation rituals or internal bullying. Yet, these incidents were usually swept under the rug.
It was clear fraternities played hard.
Curious, Roy asked, "Shodi, I've heard some fraternity parties get pretty wild. Is that true?"
"Totally!" Shodi's face lit up, his features practically dancing with excitement.
Roy flinched. "Whoa, Shodi, chill out!"
Shodi rubbed his face, trying to rein in his enthusiasm. "Sorry, man. Just thinking about what my brothers told me about some frat parties."
"Spill the details!"
Shodi's two older brothers were UCLA athletic legends, one even helping the school win an NCAA championship. They'd naturally been invited to top-tier fraternities.
"My big brother was at this one frat party where the organizers brought in all twelve of that year's Playboy cover models. They had them kneel in a circle on a giant spinning wheel…"
Holy crap! Americans really knew how to party.
Roy realized he'd been living under a rock.
He needed to check out these fraternity parties for himself—and maybe try out some of what he learned on his own girls later.
Roy picked up the stack of applications in front of Shodi. "Which is UCLA's top fraternity?"
"Hmm… the Phoenix Society used to be the big one," Shodi said. "It's a national fraternity with chapters at Ivy League schools. But lately, the Rattlesnake Society has been rising on the West Coast. They've got serious clout."
Roy clapped Shodi on the shoulder. "Forget the forms. Let's go check out these two."
"Bro, you're joining a frat?"
"If I'm joining, it's gotta be the best one."
Shodi's eyes sparkled. "Hell yeah! An Olympic champion like you picks the frat, not the other way around. Follow me—I know where their clubhouses are."
UCLA had a dedicated area for fraternity clubhouses, not far from the dorms. The more powerful the fraternity, the fancier and better-located their clubhouse. Smaller ones were stuck in remote corners, sometimes even sharing buildings.
The Phoenix and Rattlesnake Societies were smack in the center of the clubhouse zone, like stars surrounded by admirers.
It was freshman orientation week, and fraternities were in full recruitment mode. Some went all out with eye-catching tactics: wearing bizarre costumes, showing off chiseled pecs shirtless (making Roy wonder if they were recruiting for something else), or even hiring a group of stunning bikini-clad women to draw attention. Shodi's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Roy, this one looks dope! Let's join the Golden Brotherhood. Great name, right?"
Roy rolled his eyes. "Golden Brotherhood? More like Golden Strip Club. I said we're joining the best, not some frat blowing their whole budget on this."
Latest novels posted first at [redacted site]!
Ignoring the other recruitment booths, Roy headed straight for the Phoenix Society's clubhouse in the heart of the zone.
"The Phoenix Society started at Phoenix University in Arizona, hence the name," Shodi explained. "They've got influence all over the West Coast, from Washington to New Mexico."
"Where'd you learn that?" Roy asked.
"There's a board at the clubhouse zone entrance with info on all the frats. I checked it out yesterday."
"Cool. Let's go in."
Unlike other fraternities, the Phoenix Society wasn't bothering with a recruitment booth. Their clubhouse was eerily quiet.
Roy knocked for ages before someone finally responded. "Who's there? It's early as hell—let me sleep!"
Roy glanced at the time. It was past 10 a.m.—almost lunchtime. Early?
The door opened, revealing a scrawny young man in a bathrobe, looking annoyed. "What do you want?"
"We're here to join the Phoenix Society," Roy said.
The guy sized up Roy and Shodi. Roy's striking looks caught him off guard, but when he saw Shodi's dark skin, his expression turned disdainful.
It wasn't surprising. America was, frankly, one of the most racially prejudiced countries in the world. People might claim they weren't racist, but if a Black person moved into their neighborhood, they'd find ways to drive them out. That's just how it was.
"Got a recommendation letter?" the guy asked.
"A recommendation letter?" Roy echoed, glancing at Shodi.
Shodi looked equally confused. "Some frats do require one, I think. But my brothers were just invited in—no letter needed."
So that was it—a deliberate barrier to keep out anyone deemed "unworthy."
"I don't have a letter," Roy said, "but my name's Roy Black."
He figured name-dropping might work.
But the guy just looked irritated. "I don't care who you are. No letter, no entry to the Phoenix Society." He moved to shut the door.
Shodi wedged his foot in the gap. "Are you serious? My man here is an Olympic champion! You know what that means?"
The guy clearly hadn't watched the Sydney Olympics and didn't recognize Roy. Even after Shodi's outburst, his attitude didn't budge.
"Pfft. The Summer Olympics have, what, 300 events? That means 300 champions. Big deal. Only small-time frats care about that. The Phoenix Society only takes real elites."
His arrogance was palpable.
Shodi was fuming but didn't know how to clap back.
Roy stepped forward, grabbing the guy's bathrobe collar. "Real elites, huh? You mean the kind who inherit their status? I earned my Olympic gold with my own strength. What about you? Did you get into the Phoenix Society because your dad couldn't keep it in his pants?"
Roy's words cut deep, exposing the guy's privilege. He was clearly coasting on his parents' connections—anyone who'd built themselves up like Roy wouldn't talk like that.
What kind of "elite" was this guy? Not an elite—just an aristocrat riding on inherited genes.
Intimidated by Roy's aura, the guy froze, speechless. Then a strange odor hit Roy and Shodi. Looking down, they saw a puddle of liquid at the guy's feet.
Disgusted, Roy tossed him to the ground.
Just then, someone else emerged from the clubhouse—a glamorous woman in a bathrobe, looking about twenty years older than the guy. A MILF enthusiast, maybe?
She rushed to help him up. "Darling, are you okay? How dare you hit him!"
Then she caught the same odd smell, and her expression turned almost comical.
Roy shook his head, done with these people. "This Phoenix Society isn't worth joining. Shodi, let's check out the one next door."
Roy and Shodi walked off without a backward glance.
The young man sat on the ground, his face burning with shame and fury. The woman beside him feigned concern, but her eyes betrayed her amusement.
"Darling, are you hurt?"
"Get lost! I don't want to see you!"
Humiliated, the guy lashed out at her. After she left, he stood, grinding his teeth. "Roy Black, I'll remember you."
Another chapter with Kailer Evans
(End of Chapter)