Chapter 15: Sweet Revenge: Checkmate

A few minutes had passed since we sat down, waiting for our professor to arrive. Just as I was starting to get comfortable, a faculty member walked in and made an announcement.

"Class, your professor is on leave today due to an important matter. Instead, you will have a substitute teacher."

At first, I didn't think much of it—until I saw who walked in.

The moment he stepped inside, my mood plummeted. A familiar figure with an all-too-familiar smug expression.

"Ah, shit… here we go again," I muttered under my breath.

"Thought we escaped this guy," Renz groaned beside me.

"Same," Cris mumbled, shaking his head.

It wasn't that I had a problem with all Chinese people—just certain individuals. And unfortunately, this guy was one of them.

He was Mr. Chang, a half-Chinese, half-Filipino teacher who had a reputation for being unnecessarily strict, condescending, and downright annoying. I had clashed with him before, and the thought of dealing with him again was already making my patience wear thin.

Still, I decided to ignore him. I had bigger things to focus on—plans for my company, the next phase of the Holoband rollout, and my upcoming VR ventures. I pulled up my interface, subtly organizing my tasks while pretending to listen to his lecture.

I must have been too obvious.

"Zero!"

The sharp call of my name snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Mr. Chang staring at me with a smirk, arms crossed.

"Are you even paying attention to my class?"

I leaned back in my seat, unfazed. "Yeah, I am."

"Oh? Is that so?" His smirk widened as he turned to the board. "Then tell me how to solve this equation."

He scribbled a complex formula on the whiteboard, then stepped aside with a satisfied look, as if he had just trapped me.

The rest of the class went silent. Renz, Cris, and Ced exchanged glances, knowing exactly where this was heading.

I sighed, got up from my seat, and walked to the board. Without hesitation, I picked up the marker and began solving the equation. My hand moved swiftly, breaking down each step clearly and efficiently. I didn't just solve it—I explained it, line by line, ensuring there were no flaws in my method.

When I finished, I placed the marker down and turned to face him.

"That's the answer," I said plainly.

Mr. Chang's smirk twitched. He scrutinized my work, searching for an error, but he found none.

"Playing smart, aren't we?" he muttered, clearly irritated.

"Not really. Just paying attention," I replied, my voice calm but edged with challenge.

His eyes narrowed. "If you could do this now, why didn't you perform like this last year, huh?"

I smirked, tilting my head slightly. "Because last year, I didn't feel like it. Also—your teaching style? It's great, but the way you handle the class? Not so much."

Mr. Chang raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing. "Oh? Do enlighten us, Mr. Celestia. What exactly is so wrong with how I run my class?"

I leaned against the board, arms folded. "Well, for starters, you don't actually teach. You just dump information on us, then spam quizzes without making sure we even understand the material. No projects, no discussions, no real-world applications—just test after test, as if memorizing equations proves anything."

Murmurs rippled through the classroom. A few students nodded in agreement, while others exchanged wary glances.

Mr. Chang's smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered, his voice laced with condescension. "And I suppose you think you could do a better job?"

I shrugged. "Not necessarily, but I know that real learning isn't just about memorization. Instead of throwing random quizzes at us every other day, why not let students apply concepts to actual scenarios? Problem-solving, innovation—that's what matters in the real world. But nah, you'd rather just make sure we all suffer through weekly quizzes that don't actually help anyone except your grading system."

A couple of students stifled laughs, but Mr. Chang's expression darkened.

"You're being awfully arrogant for someone who barely paid attention last year," he sneered.

I leaned against my desk, arms crossed, my expression unreadable. "You keep acting like you're the best teacher in this school, but let's be real—if you were, half the class wouldn't have failed last year."

A hush fell over the room. Some students gasped, while others exchanged glances, nodding subtly.

Mr. Chang's jaw clenched. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I said, my voice steady. "It wasn't just me. A lot of us failed. And that wasn't because we didn't study—it was because your way of teaching is garbage."

The room tensed. A few students murmured in agreement, but none dared to speak up.

His expression twisted into one of barely restrained fury. "Are you blaming me for your failure? That's rich. Maybe if you had actually paid attention instead of daydreaming, you wouldn't be in this mess."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Nah, see, that's where you're wrong. I did try to pay attention at first, but your 'teaching' was just a cycle of throwing formulas at us, never explaining them properly, and then drowning us in pop quizzes. No projects, no practical applications—just 'memorize this, regurgitate that.' And when we struggled? You just gave more quizzes, as if that would magically fix everything."

A few students nodded hesitantly.

His eyes narrowed. "Memorization is essential to mastering any subject. If you lack discipline—"

"Discipline?" I interrupted, letting out a sharp laugh. "That's funny. Because in every other subject, I did just fine. In fact, I excelled. So tell me, if I lack discipline, how did I manage to do well in subjects taught by actual teachers?"

That hit a nerve.

"You failed my class because you didn't put in the effort, Celestia. Nothing more, nothing less."

I smirked. "Then explain why half the class failed too. Were we all lazy? Or is it more likely that your teaching sucks?"

A collective murmur spread through the students.

Mr. Chang slammed his palm against the desk. "ENOUGH!"

Silence.

His face was red with fury now. "You will respect me in this classroom!"

I tilted my head. "Respect is earned, not demanded."

His hands curled into fists. "That's it. I refuse to tolerate this kind of insubordination. I will personally see to it that you are expelled from this school!"

Another wave of gasps.

I let out a slow breath, unfazed. "Go ahead. Try. But let's be real—you and I both know the school isn't going to back you up."

His nostrils flared. "And why is that?"

I shrugged. "Because if they expel me, they'll have to answer some uncomfortable questions. Like, why so many students under your teaching have failed year after year. Or why someone who's been consistently at the top in other subjects suddenly struggles only in your class."

More whispers. More nods.

Mr. Chang's face darkened further. His lips curled in fury, but there was hesitation in his eyes now. He knew I was right.

"You… you arrogant little—!" He gritted his teeth, looking around the room, as if expecting someone to step in, to take his side.

No one did.

And that was the breaking point.

His entire body tensed before he grabbed his things, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The class was silent for a moment. Then—

"Damn," Renz muttered. "We actually made a teacher rage quit."

Cris whistled. "Bro, you just murdered that guy with words."

Ced chuckled, shaking his head. "I give it two days before he tries to get revenge."

I leaned back in my chair, smirking. "Let him try."

After the heated confrontation, the room buzzed with murmurs. Some students were still feeling shock from what had just happened, while others looked at me with a mix of admiration and apprehension. I exhaled slowly, slipping my hands into my pockets as I stepped forward.

"Alright, listen up," I said, my voice steady. "I know that was… unexpected. Maybe even unnecessary, depending on who you ask. But let me make one thing clear—I didn't do that just for myself. That guy was dragging all of us down, and someone had to call it out."

The whispers grew louder, but I raised a hand, silencing them.

"That being said, I didn't bring you all here just to pick a fight with a washed-up teacher. No. I have something far bigger in mind."

I reached into my bag and pulled out a sleek, black device—the Holoband. Its smooth, metallic surface glinted under the dim classroom lights as I held it up. A ripple of curiosity and skepticism spread through the room.

"What's that?" someone asked.

I didn't answer. Instead, I smirked and began handing them out—one by one. Soon, every student held one, the weight of the unknown pressing against their skin.

"This," I finally said, "is the key to everything."

I slid mine onto my wrist and activated it with a flick. A soft hum filled the air as the interface came to life, a faint glow pulsing from the device.

"Before you put it on, there's something you need to know," I continued. "This isn't just some fancy gadget. It requires a blood sample—a form of authentication that binds it to you and only you. The moment you wear it, a microscopic needle will prick your skin. Barely a sting. But after that, the Holoband is yours, permanently."

A few students hesitated, exchanging wary glances.

"You mean it literally takes our blood?" one of them asked.

I chuckled. "What, scared of a little needle?" I taunted. "Think of it like a fingerprint scanner—just more advanced. Once it recognizes you, no one else can access your data or use your device. Total security."

One by one, they strapped on their Holobands. Some flinched at the brief sting, while others, like Renz, watched in fascination.

Then it happened.

Gasps filled the room as their vision transformed. Some students blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden overlay of floating menus, data streams, and interactive interfaces seamlessly integrated into their sight.

"This… this is insane!" someone exclaimed.

A student waved a hand in front of their face. "It's like a hologram, but in my eyes!"

I grinned. "Because it's not just a projection—it's Augmented Reality. But that's not all. With a single command, you can enter full immersion. No bulky headsets. No limitations. Just pure, uninterrupted experience."

Excitement rippled through the class as they experimented with their devices, navigating menus, testing the interface. Some were awestruck. Others grinned like they had just uncovered a new world.

"This is next level," one student murmured.

"Told you," I said, crossing my arms. "This changes everything."

"But what does it actually do?" someone in the back asked.

I turned to them with a knowing smirk. "It does everything. Imagine instant access to the world's knowledge. Imagine real-time communication with anyone, anywhere, without barriers. Imagine education, business, and governance seamlessly connected. With this, we won't just witness the future—we'll create it."

Skepticism lingered in a few students' eyes.

"That's big talk," one muttered.

"Pretty ambitious," another added.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Ambitious? You have no idea."

Then, my phone buzzed. A notification flashed across the screen. My smirk deepened.

"Oh, would you look at that," I said, making sure the entire class could hear. "Something interesting just came in."

They turned their attention to me.

"Do you see this?" I held up my phone, then gave a command. "Jarvis, project a holographic display."

At once, a bright, detailed projection hovered in the air—a message from a high-ranking government official regarding an upcoming meeting. The students' eyes widened.

"This, my friends, is what I meant," I said, turning back to them. "The era I envision? It's not coming someday. It's coming now. And no one—no government, no school board—can stop it."

A hush fell over the room as the weight of my words settled.

"And as for that teacher who stormed out?" I smirked and tilted my head. "Jarvis, purchase this school. Whatever the cost. And while you're at it—fire him."

-Understood, sir.-

Silence. Stunned stares.

"But that's not all," I continued, voice calm, deliberate. "Acquire the surrounding land. Expand."

-Got it, sir.-

"You see, guys?" I turned back to them, my smirk growing. "I told you—he's not coming back. Because after today… this place belongs to me."

For a moment, the class was dead silent. Then—

"Holy shit," Renz muttered.

Cris let out a low whistle. "Dude… you just bought our school."

Ced chuckled, shaking his head. "Not just the school. He's talking about the city now."

I leaned back against the desk, watching as realization dawned on their faces.

"This is only the beginning," I said. "Soon—no, tomorrow—you'll see just how much the world is about to change."