I like him

The slums buzzed with unusual energy, a sense of anticipation hovering in the air. Children gathered in narrow alleyways, trying to brush the dust off their worn clothes, their faces both anxious and hopeful. For many, this day was more than just an event—it was a chance to change everything.

A young man appeared at the edge of the crowd, standing out sharply in his polished, dark coat and clean, high boots. His presence demanded attention, and his sharp, judgmental gaze swept over the children as if he could hardly bear to look at them.

"Children aged 10, follow me," he announced in a cold, clipped tone, barely pausing before turning on his heel. Without waiting to see if they'd obey, he strode toward the gates of the academic district, eager to escape the grimy slums.

The children scrambled to keep up, nearly running to match his brisk pace. Some, weakened by hunger and thin from years of hardship, began to fall behind, but the man paid no mind. Asmodeos hung back, his dark eyes narrowed as he watched the guide's haughty, strutting steps. Pathetic, he thought, his fingers itching with the urge to sketch the man's sneering expression later.

Their path opened up to the towering gates of the academic district, gleaming with opulence and power. The buildings here reached high into the sky, sleek and shimmering, reflecting light that seemed almost blinding. Even the air was different—cleaner, sharper, carrying the faint scent of something metallic and cold.

"This is the academic district," their guide announced with a flicker of disdain. "Keep your hands to yourself, and don't speak. Those with actual promise live here." He smirked. "Line up by height and keep up. I'm not here to babysit."

With that, he strode ahead, indifferent to the shuffling and whispers behind him. The children hurriedly arranged themselves, moving with cautious awe through the pristine streets, surrounded by the intimidating grandeur of the district.

Asmodeos followed in silence, his gaze sharp as he took in the buildings and the small groups of students milling around, all neatly dressed and clearly of better means than his group. Finally, they arrived at a grand platform where groups from other districts were gathered. Children from neighboring slums were already waiting, looking similarly out of place but sharing the same sense of wonder and nervous excitement.

One by one, each child was called up to step into the awakening machine, an intricate device that hummed and pulsed with a quiet power. As they emerged, a floating transparent screen displayed their new class and rank. D and C ranks were most common, and the flashes of B-Class sparked murmurs of awe among the crowd.

Then a familiar name was called: "Theseus, District 18."

Theseus, the largest and most notorious bully in Asmodeos's district, strutted forward, his grin wide and cocky. He held his head high as he stepped into the machine, confident as ever. A moment later, he emerged, his face splitting into an even bigger smirk as his rank blazed on the screen: Class: Titan, Rank: S.

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, the rare rank drawing envious looks from both children and instructors alike. Theseus's lackeys cheered and clapped, clearly relishing their leader's newfound status.

"Theseus, S-Class! A Titan among us!" one of his friends shouted. Theseus raised his fist in acknowledgment, basking in the attention, his smirk growing as he noticed the gazes of nobles fixed on him, some with approving nods.

Then his gaze landed on Asmodeos.

"Oh, look who's here," Theseus sneered, striding down from the platform toward him. "Didn't think you'd actually make it this far. Guess even rats can manage to crawl to the surface once in a while."

Asmodeos met his eyes, unfazed. He studied Theseus's expression, his cocky stance, and then allowed a slow smile to form. "Fancy name for a brute, don't you think?" His voice was calm, almost bored, as if he couldn't be bothered to care about Theseus's rank.

A hush fell over those around them. For a moment, everyone was stunned—was he really challenging an S-Class? Children in Asmodeos's position typically scrambled to curry favor with anyone so highly ranked, especially with a title like "Titan." Yet Asmodeos only continued to stare, a hint of contempt in his gaze.

Theseus's smirk faltered just slightly, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. Theseus's grin returned, wider and colder this time. He stepped closer to Asmodeos, his height casting a shadow over him. "You're really something, huh? Think you're brave, standing up to an S-Class?" He chuckled darkly, leaning down until their eyes were level. "I'm Titan class, Asmodeos. You know what that means? Strength, power, and everyone's respect."

Asmodeos tilted his head, unaffected. "Respect? Or fear?" His tone was almost lazy, as if the entire interaction barely interested him. "Seems to me, you're just another brute trying to make himself feel big."

Several gasps rippled through the crowd, and even Theseus's lackeys looked uncertain. Some looked at Theseus, waiting for his reaction, while others cast glances at Asmodeos as if wondering how he could be so reckless.

"Theseus clenched his fists, his face twisting with irritation. "Careful, Asmodeos. Watch your mouth while you still have it."

Asmodeos gave a slow, mocking smile. "I'll keep that in mind," he said lightly. "But it's not every day someone comes along with a fancy name like Titan. I thought maybe you'd earned it." He paused, glancing Theseus up and down. "Guess I was wrong."

The crowd murmured louder, some students exchanging shocked glances, while a few couldn't help but smirk, entertained by the rare sight of someone standing up to Theseus.

Theseus's face turned red, his voice lowering to a growl. "Enjoy the attention while it lasts. By the time this day is over, you'll wish you'd never opened that big mouth of yours."

Asmodeos shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you'll just prove my point."

Theseus moved to respond, but the instructor caught his eye and gave a slight nod, a signal to restrain himself. After a long glare at Asmodeos, Theseus scoffed, turning back to his lackeys. "Let's see who's laughing by the end of today," he muttered, loud enough for Asmodeos to hear.

Asmodeos watched him go, expression cool and unbothered.

"He's got spirit, doesn't he?" An older man, distinguished and imposing, muttered to a black crow perched on his shoulder. The bird tilted its head, almost as if it were listening. The man's gaze settled on Asmodeos, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I like him."

Just then, a voice called out: "District 21, Asmodeos."