The man walked in like he owned the floor.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a tank, he exuded that particular kind of danger you only get from someone who's been in too many fights and won most of them. The air shifted when he stepped into the middle of the training zone. His arms were crossed, and his gaze swept the room like a hawk sizing up its prey.
No power play. No theatrics.
Just presence.
"Good morning," he said, voice sharp as steel. "Name's Blade. B-Class awakener. I specialize in hand-to-hand combat. I'll be your instructor today."
Silence followed. The students stood straighter.
"You've probably noticed — this isn't a normal class. Today is a joint combat lesson. Some of you are awakened. Some of you aren't. Doesn't matter. You'll be split into teams of four. Each team will have one awakened member. You'll sort yourselves out."
Uneasy murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Blade continued, voice unwavering. "Your task is simple. Take turns attacking me. No skills allowed. No powers. Only raw hand-to-hand combat."
His eyes narrowed, daring someone to question it.
"You're training for survival. Your gifts won't always save you. Learn to fight like you're desperate — like your life depends on it. Because one day… it will."
Then he stepped back and leaned against the wall, folding his arms.
The clock was ticking.
"Twenty minutes. Pick your teams."
And just like that, the room exploded into chaos.
Students scattered, cliques forming instantly. Bargaining, whispering, pulling people in, begging awakened students to join their teams. You'd think they were forming squads for a war.
I didn't move.
I leaned against the far wall, arms folded, watching the circus. My face blank, my thoughts distant. I had no intention of competing for a place. I didn't want to be on a team.
Let the crowd fight over scraps. I'd take what was left.
Eventually, I'd be assigned. Or forced in. Either way, fine by me.
Then I heard quiet footsteps.
Ren.
She didn't speak at first. Just walked up beside me and leaned against the same wall, a few feet to my left. Comfortable. Calm. The silence between us felt deliberate — two people observing from the edge.
Then she turned slightly, strands of hair brushing her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to mine.
"So," she said casually, "I'm guessing you're not planning to join the chaos?"
I shrugged. "I'll just team up with whoever's left."
"Smart move."
She held out her hand. "In that case… mind if I join you?"
I stared at her hand. Delicate fingers. Smooth movement. Her tone — friendly. Polished. But under it all… something else. Something watching.
Of course I don't want that .
That's what I wanted to say.
But I didn't.
I swallowed my irritation and said flatly, "Yeah. Sure. Now we just need two more."
I didn't shake her hand.
I didn't even look at her again. I just leaned back, eyes on the sky. After a few seconds, she slowly retracted her hand and said nothing.
Awkward tension hung in the air like mist.
Then, blood.
The faint scent of blood hit my nose like a pinprick. Metallic, sharp, familiar. I turned my head and saw her.
Trish.
She stood still, expression unreadable. Her presence was quieter than most — like a shadow on water.
"I'm Trish," she said softly. "Can I join your team?"
Another one.
Just perfect.
I stared at her for a beat, then leaned in close and whispered, "I thought trust was the most important thing for a trader."
Her eyes flickered. Recognition. Surprise. Then stillness again.
"When this is over," I added, "tell him we need to talk."
She hesitated, then gave a quiet nod.
I wasn't done.
"And fix that blood scent. You're leaking too much of it."
That one hit. Her eyes sharpened. A subtle flare of hostility. But only for a moment. Then she took a step back and nodded again.
Three of us now.
What no one in the academy knew was that both of these girls — Ren and Trish — were anything but ordinary.
On paper, they were unawakened. But the truth?
Ren was hiding something unnatural — a mana presence I'd never felt before. Too cold. Too aware. A sentient bracelet sealed her awakening from every detection method in the academy.
And Trish… was a killer.
An assassin class, no doubt. Her posture, her steps, even the way she breathed — too precise, too practiced. And worse, she bore the faint signature of him. The trader's ribbon on her hand told me everything I needed to know.
Both of them had reason to hide.
And both were hiding very well.
Lucky me.
As I scanned the chaos again, my eyes stopped on him.
Arnold.
Blonde, tall, with a pretty-boy face that made girls gawk and guys hate him. I expected him to be surrounded — to have a fan club fighting over a spot on his team.
Instead, he was talking to Ren.
And she was laughing.
Not smirking. Not faking. A real laugh.
Of course.
Of course.
He approached us without hesitation.
"Hope I'm not late," he said, smiling like this was a picnic. "You guys still need one more?"
I didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Ren smiled and gave him a nod.
And just like that, our team was formed.
A quiet killer that works for the trader
A cursed girl with mana that hated everything.
A golden boy who made people fall for him by accident.
And me — the unlucky bastard who already regretted waking up today.
I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples.
"Fine," I muttered. "Let's see what you're all good for."
And just like that, Team Twenty-Seven was complete.
Built not on trust. Not on friendship.
But on secrets, tension, and bad luck.
And I had a sinking feeling…
We were going to be very interesting to watch.