School Hour

The air in the classroom felt stifling as Asher reluctantly opened his eyes, the heavy bags beneath them revealing his ongoing battle with sleep deprivation. 

The sound of the teacher's monotonous voice carried on, seemingly indifferent to the existence of someone like Asher, who was deemed an troublemaker in the unforgiving social hierarchy of the school.

As the teacher continued to overlook him, Asher seized the opportunity to steal a few moments of rest, attempting to take a brief nap in the middle of the boring lecture which made him more sleepy. 

RING RING RING

The bell rang, signaling the end of the morning class and the beginning of the much-needed lunch break.

The students hurriedly left the classroom, eager to recharge their energy for the rest of the day in the cafeteria.

Some carried their lunchboxes, choosing to stay behind and enjoy their homemade meals.

Asher, however, had a different agenda. Despite his yearning for more sleep, he had to put on a facade – the role of the school bully.

His reputation demanded it. The moment he opened his eyes, he found a line of five students waiting, including the kid he had beaten the day before.

"Good," Asher muttered with a detached nod, accepting the meager offerings of lunch money from the intimidated students.

It was a routine that had become second nature to him, a daily act of coercion tasked to him by James.

Once the lunch money collection was complete for his class, Asher stood up from his seat and strolled out of the classroom, heading towards another class to collect the so-called "lunch money."

His actions were enabled by the teachers' fear of James, the figure who pulled the strings behind the scenes.

Rumors say that James comes from a well-off family. Some even speculate he has relatives in the middle area, making his identity in this school quite special.

But because of James's mysterious identity, it allowed Asher to go through school without facing consequences for always being late or getting involved in questionable activities.

In a weird way, Asher found himself getting some perks by working for James. It's kind of funny – he could not stand him, but because James has more connections, he was stuck doing his bidding.

'What am I doing with my life,' Asher sighed to himself as he sat on the bench, mentally drained from all the pretending he had to do.

"Hey Asher," the big guy who always hangs with James approached.

Asher just looked at him and didn't say anything.

The big guy grew frustrated with Asher's nonchalant expression, but his hands remained tied.

The memory of the brutal beating he received for crossing Asher lingered in his body like a painful echo. It was a reminder that he couldn't afford to provoke a monster like Asher again. 

"James said I should pick you up. We got a job," the big guy explained, a mix of irritation and resignation in his voice. 

"Sure," Asher replied, standing up and getting ready to go. He didn't like James, but he needed his authority and connections. 

"Follow me," the big man gestured and walked ahead, leading the way.

They passed the lobby until they reached a restroom. This area was usually avoided by regular students because James's gang often used it during lunch breaks for smoking.

As expected, the moment they entered the restroom, the pungent smell of smoke hit them.

Asher felt the urge to beat up the students responsible for subjecting him to secondhand smoke, a hazard he knew that was be even more dangerous than actual smoking.

But despite the anger bubbling within him, he managed to keep his cool, suppressing the rising frustration for the sake of showing face to James who was now beating the crap out of another student.

"Why did you report to the principle ?" James asked with a sadistic tone, his hands gripping the boy's brown hair, forcing him to cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry, James, please forgive me. I won't do it again!" The boy pleaded, his bloody teeth showing as he asked for mercy. Tears and snot were even mixing on his face.

"You won't do it again because I will cut this talkative tongue of yours," James mocked, delivering a chilling threat. He followed it with a series of strong slaps to the boy's face, each blow sending a clear message. 'Don't mess with me'

On the Sideline .

Asher just watched with a blank face. He understood that's the fate of the weak, and he figured the boy being bullied could've been him if he didn't know how to defend himself. Ultimately, he believed it was the boy's fault for being weak.

'Why are you just letting him beat you up? If you can't beat him using your fists, then grab a weapon or something. If you can't face him head-on, attack when he's not looking. There are a lot of things you can do,' Asher muttered to himself.

Unfortunately, none of Asher's solutions crossed the boy's mind, and soon he collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

James got up, wiped the blood off his hands with a handkerchief, and turned to face Asher.

"Asher, you're here. Good timing. I have a job for you," he said, smiling like nothing had happened.