Warning Note

The next step, as the director mentioned, was a thorough inspection of his luggage and body. In that room, a teacher inspected his suitcase, then pulled out a blanket.

He glanced at Christan as he raised the blanket. "This place tends to be very cold. Colder than what you feel now. Do you really think this is enough? We asked for a thick one."

Christan lowered his eyes, knowing he was the one who refused the thicker one, thinking it would be bothersome to carry as it wouldn't even fit in the bag.

After that, he had to say goodbye to his long hair as he watched a barber cut it. Once, it reached his shoulders, but now it was at ear level.

Then, they led him to a board displaying the school's rules and regulations, which he was supposed to read and understand.

The rules weren't strange, resembling those of other schools. However, at the end of the poster was a note. He wasn't sure if he should call it a note—it sounded more like a threat.

"Unimaginable punishment for any broken rules. Abide by the rules if you value your life… I mean your studies."

The way it read felt as though someone was speaking directly to him rather than it being a simple note. He gulped.

After that, a teacher summoned a student to show him to his room. A boy with black curly hair, and glasses on his small face helped him carry his suitcase as they walked together.

"Which room?" the student escorting him asked.

"North dormitory, I think. Room 1," he replied, handing him the card as they walked.

"Oh, we share the same dormitory. I stay in Room 2," the boy said with a smile that kept widening. "I'm Wisdom. And you?"

Christan raised a brow slightly at the name but replied, "Christan."

"Nice name! Christianity, eh? You know, every evening there are religious schedules."

Christan didn't quite like the topic; he couldn't even remember the last time he had attended church. However, the boy kept talking.

"As for me, I am Hindu," he said with an upbeat tone.

Christan looked at him in surprise "Hindu? I thought it was… I mean only…"

"India, huh?" Wisdom chuckled. "Can't you tell? I am Indian. My name is Vivek. In English, it is Wisdom. So don't be surprised!"

Christan, now looking at Vivek, realized it made sense. He indeed looked Indian, and even his accent was strong.

"Well, Christan, why did you apply to this school? Not that you made a mistake… I'm just curious. Sorry, I am talking too much."

'I should be the one asking why such a kind person is here.'

"I don't really have a reason," Christan smiled. "I thought it would be fun."

"Hah! Fun, indeed," Vivek laughed. Then he turned forward. "We're here."

Ahead of them was a long building divided into ten rooms, each marked with a number.

Vivek led the way to the first room, Room 1. Christan stood at the door, his eyes narrowing when he noticed the lock. The door had a broken lock, which meant anyone could enter.

He simply pushed, and the door swung open. How convenient. Vivek stepped inside, and Christan followed. He prepared himself for anything he might find. When he glanced around the room, he noticed three bunk beds, meaning six students per room.

The room was spacious enough and neatly arranged.

"I think this is the only bed left for you," Vivek said, putting the suitcase aside. "But anyway, you will have to decide that with your roommates when they arrive. Christan, it's still class hours, so we should head back."

Christan took his bag, which he would use for classes, and followed Vivek.

Not long after, he found himself standing in front of the school dean. From what Vivek had told him, every new student had to be assigned a desk and registered.

"I don't blame them for this system," Vivek said thoughtfully. "Otherwise, they would be in losses every day."

"What do you mean?"

Christan was given a wooden desk and chair, both marked with code numbers. If anything happened to them, he would be responsible for the payment, whether it was his fault or not.

'They should have made sure these were made of iron, then,' he thought.

He carried the chair while Vivek helped with the desk, and they walked to where classes were held.

Suddenly, someone tucked behind him, grabbed his shoulder, and moved him forward hastily. Failing to keep pace, his chair fell from his hands.

He froze, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

Immediately, he rushed to pick it up and inspected it for any damage. Luckily, it was still in one piece. Then he turned to face the person who had dared to do that.

"For a moment, he looked like a chicken! Hahaha!" the boy who had pushed him said, laughing at something Christan didn't find funny.

"You could have hurt him!" Vivek scolded.

The boy, who had dark red spiked hair, wore a disheveled shirt with a name tag: Nathan.

Nathan grabbed Vivek under his armpits, strangling him as he laughed. Christan's eyes widened as he watched the desk move with Vivek.

Then, a hand yanked Nathan by the collar, lifting him off the ground. Nathan let go of Vivek, annoyed, and turned to face the person who had humiliated him.

When he saw the man with blonde hair and side-swept bangs, whose tag read Kai, his brows relaxed. He didn't even say anything as Kai dragged him off to class.

Christan watched them as they entered the classroom. Nathan struggled against the firm grip. As Christan stared at them, Kai turned, and their eyes met. Immediately, Christan averted his gaze.

"Chris, are you okay?" Vivek asked.

Christan looked at Vivek, noticing his curly hair had turned messy after the scuffle with Nathan. He shook his head.

"Don't mind him. No wonder some think he has lost his mind. Let's go before class starts."

Christan nodded, and together they headed to class—though not the same one as Kai and Nathan.