It was early evening when Ren pushed open the door to the school infirmary. The sky outside was bleeding into a deep violet, casting long shadows across the campus.
The infirmary was dimly lit, smelling of antiseptic, old paper, and a faint hint of lavender air freshener. **Dr. Luke** was sitting behind the main desk, furiously typing on a laptop, organizing the day's patient files. When the door chimed, he looked up, and his expression brightened instantly.
"Student Ren?" Luke grinned, spinning his chair around. "Back again? Did you run out of painkillers already? Or did you get into another fight with a gang of Rogues?"
Ren shook her head. She walked up to the desk, her movements languid but precise. She wore her usual loose uniform, one hand tucked casually into her pocket.
"Do you need a part-timer?" she asked, her voice low and raspy. "I need money."
It was a blunt request. The imported medicine for her grandmother was costing a fortune, and the 50 million from the hacking job she had accepted from the 'Unknown Idiot' (Alpha Juan) hadn't cleared into her account yet. She needed immediate cash flow for daily expenses.
Luke blinked, stunned. He looked at the girl who, just yesterday, had single-handedly dismantled a gang of street thugs with the efficiency of a special forces soldier. She wanted... a minimum-wage job?
"Uh, well, we—" Luke stammered, unsure how to respond. "The school budget is a bit tight, and—"
Before Luke could finish his sentence, a rustling sound came from the corner of the room.
Nestled on the plush velvet sofa was a mound of grey blankets. The mound shifted, groaned, and then fell away.
**Alpha Juan** sat up.
He looked like a beautiful, sleepy demon rising from the underworld. The blanket pooled around his waist, revealing a wrinkled black silk shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar, exposing the sharp, elegant lines of his collarbones and a glimpse of pale chest. His dark hair was messy, falling into his eyes in chaotic waves.
He rubbed his face with a long-fingered hand, letting out a soft sigh. The air in the room instantly grew heavier, charged with his waking pheromones—a scent of deep winter cedar and raw power.
Juan blinked his eyes open. They were misty with sleep, half-lidded, yet they locked onto Ren with terrifying accuracy.
"Can you cook?" Juan asked. His voice was thick, husky, and vibrated with a magnetic baritone that seemed to hum in the floorboards.
Ren looked at him, unfazed by the display of casual dominance. "Yes."
Juan stifled a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. The movement caused his shirt to ride up slightly, revealing a taut, muscular stomach. He pointed a lazy finger toward a door in the back of the infirmary.
"There's a small kitchen back there," Juan murmured, looking like he might fall asleep again at any second. "Luke eats garbage takeout every day. It offends my nose. You handle lunch and dinner from now on. Daily pay. 200 Wolf Coins a day. Cash."
Luke's jaw dropped. He looked from his master to the high school girl. Their picky, Supreme Alpha master... just hired a suspected delinquent as a private chef?
"Deal," Ren said.
***
Thirty minutes later, the sterile smell of the infirmary was replaced by something divine.
It wasn't a fancy banquet. Ren had found some simple ingredients in the fridge—beef, green peppers, and rice. But as she worked, the scent that wafted out of the kitchenette was clean, comforting, and somehow... soothing.
Juan leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Ren work.
She was chopping vegetables. Her movements were rhythmic and terrifyingly fast. *Chop. Chop. Chop.* The knife moved like an extension of her hand.
Juan narrowed his eyes. He focused on her hands.
They were pale, slender, and elegant. The knuckles were defined, the fingers long and dexterous. They were beautiful hands. But they didn't look like the hands of a cook or a high school student.
To Juan's experienced eyes, they looked like hands that held a scalpel. Or a violin bow. Or perhaps... a sniper rifle.
"Your hands," Juan murmured, breaking the silence. "They look expensive."
Ren didn't pause. She swept the vegetables into the sizzling pan with a flick of her wrist. "Dishwashing is extra."
Juan chuckled. It was a low, vibrating sound that resonated in his chest, genuine amusement dancing in his dark eyes. He turned his head to the Beta drooling at the table.
"Luke," Juan commanded lazily. "You wash the dishes."
Luke looked up, betrayed. "Me?! But I'm the doctor!"
***
The next morning, the peaceful atmosphere of the infirmary felt like a distant dream. Reality returned with a vengeance in the form of **Physics Class**.
Physics was the most dreaded subject at Wolven High. It wasn't just basic science; it dealt with **Energy Trajectory** and **Ballistics**—skills required for future Alpha commanders.
The atmosphere in the classroom was tense. The results of yesterday's surprise mock exam were being returned.
**Xavier**, the Physics Representative, stood at the front of the room. He held a stack of papers, his face cold and expressionless. He was the idol of the school, the perfect student, and he had little patience for those who didn't try.
He walked down the aisle, handing out papers. Students groaned or cheered as they saw their scores.
Finally, Xavier reached the back row. He stopped at Ren's desk.
Ren was leaning back in her chair, her hood up, reading a thick foreign book that looked ancient. She didn't even acknowledge him.
Xavier looked down at the paper in his hand. He felt a surge of disappointment and disgust. He pulled the paper out and dropped it onto Ren's desk.
Written in red ink, bold and angry, was a single digit: **0**.
"Zero," Xavier said. His voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet classroom, it sounded like a gunshot.
He looked down at Ren with eyes full of cold judgment. "The entire test was multiple choice, Ren. Twenty questions. Four options each. You could have closed your eyes, guessed blindly, and statistically scored at least 20 points."
The class went silent. Heads turned. Snickers broke out.
"To get a zero..." Xavier shook his head, his voice dripping with disdain. "That takes a special kind of incompetence. It's almost impressive how useless you are."
**Mrs. Lee**, the teacher, stood at the podium. She smoothed her skirt, a cruel smile playing on her lips. She had been waiting for this moment.
"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Mrs. Lee announced, her voice shrill. "Wolven High is an elite institution. Some people—**Rotten Meat** who rely on family connections to sneak in—should not expect to survive here. Physics requires an Alpha-level intellect. It is not for... *scavengers*."
Laughter rippled through the room. **Joey** winced, looking sympathetically at Ren, but he didn't dare speak up against Xavier and the teacher.
Ren didn't react to the insults. She didn't flush with shame. She didn't argue.
She slowly reached out, her slender fingers grasping the corner of the exam paper. She folded it once, hiding the red '0', and shoved it into her desk drawer without even looking at it.
"Thanks," she said flatly.
Xavier stared at her for a second longer, waiting for some sign of remorse. Finding none, he turned away, the last shred of curiosity he had for her evaporating. She was just a waste of space.
***
The bell rang for lunch.
The classroom emptied quickly as students rushed to the cafeteria to gossip about the 'Zero-Score Transfer Student'.
But **Lily**, Ren's timid deskmate, stayed behind.
Lily was the Physics Representative for the Delta Class. She was a weak Omega, but she was brilliant with numbers. She looked at Ren, who was now napping with her head on her arms.
"Ren..." Lily nudged her arm gently. "Ren... Physics isn't that hard. I can tutor you if you want. If you fail the next exam, Mrs. Lee might expel you."
Ren didn't move. "Too lazy."
Lily sighed. She reached into Ren's desk and pulled out the crumpled exam paper. "Let me see where you went wrong. Maybe you just misunderstood the formulas."
Lily pulled out the **Answer Key**. She placed it next to Ren's paper.
"Okay, let's see..." Lily muttered, adjusting her glasses. "Question one."
She looked at the key, then at Ren's paper.
**Question 1:** Correct Answer **A**. Ren chose **C**.
**Question 2:** Correct Answer **B**. Ren chose **D**.
**Question 3:** Correct Answer **A**. Ren chose **B**.
Lily frowned. "That's unlucky..."
She kept checking. Down the list. Ten questions. Fifteen questions.
By the time she reached Question 18, Lily's frown had vanished, replaced by a look of confusion.
**Question 18:** Correct Answer **D**. Ren chose **A**.
Lily's hands started to tremble. Her heart rate picked up.
She looked at **Question 20**. This was a notorious trap question. It involved a complex calculation of spiritual pressure.
* Option **B** was the common mistake (what 90% of students chose).
* Option **C** was the correct answer.
* Option **A** was the "obviously wrong" answer—a value that was physically impossible.
Ren had chosen **A**.
Lily froze. A cold chill ran down her spine. The noise of the hallway seemed to fade away.
"Ren," Lily whispered, her voice shaking. "Ren, wake up."
Ren opened one eye, looking annoyed. "Mm?"
"This... this is statistically impossible," Lily stammered. She pointed at the paper with a shaking finger. "It's all multiple choice. There are four options per question. Blind guessing creates a probability distribution. You should have gotten *something* right by accident."
Ren yawned. "I have bad luck."
"No!" Lily's voice rose, cracking with fear. "You avoided every single correct answer. You avoided the *trap* answers that look correct. You consistently chose the 'impossible' answers."
To get a perfect zero on a 20-question multiple-choice test was harder than getting a perfect 100. To get 100, you just need to know the right answers. To get a perfect zero, you have to know the right answer, identify it, and then deliberately choose a wrong one—twenty times in a row, without a single slip-up.
Lily stared at her lazy, slouching deskmate. She felt like she was looking at a monster wearing a human skin suit.
"You didn't fail because you're stupid," Lily whispered, her eyes wide with terror and awe. "You failed on purpose. **You knew all the answers, Ren.**"
Ren closed her eye again, pulling her hood down lower to block out the light. A faint, lazy smile touched the corner of her lips—a smile that didn't deny anything.
"You're overthinking it, Lily," Ren murmured, her voice drifting off into sleep. "Maybe I just like the letter A."
Lily sat there, frozen, staring at the big red '0'. For the first time, she realized that the "useless Dormant" sitting next to her might be the most dangerous person in the entire school.
**[Chapter 8 End]**