"Stand up!" Dean spoke again. His voice was even and calmer than before.
Hugging his knees, the boy curled deeper into his arms as he spoke between whimpers and incoherent words.
"I-I-I don't h-have any M-Mon-ey."
Dean rolled his eyes, cursing his luck for being stuck with a wimp.
"I don't want your money," Dean sighed. "I'm your roommate."
"Roommate?" The boy's incoherent yapping suddenly halted. His voice was sharper.
"Yeah," Dean replied as he stepped back.
This prompted the boy to finally uncurl and raise his face.
He had lazy red eyes with thick dark circles under them. Looking like he hadn't slept for a month or two.
"AHH.. you look like–"
"A rotten mango...I know," the boy said as he slowly stood up.
Standing to his full height. Dean was rather surprised. He had to look upwards so their eyes could meet.
'A gentle giant, huh' Dean thought as he placed his bag on one of the beds.
"What's your name?"
"Reed… Olsen Reed."
Dean nodded and zipped his bag open.
"I'm Dean."
"Nice to meet you Dean," The boy spoke with a serene and eloquent tone that matched his calm demeanor but not his physique.
"Do you know those guys from earlier?" Dean asked, trying to confirm a theory.
"Yeah…We were mates in Middle school," Olsen replied as he began picking his clothes that had been scattered on the floor.
Dean nodded as it all made sense now.
They knew him.
They had to…
No one picked on a guy that size for the first time.
After a few minutes, the room finally looked hospitable.
Dean was about to leave for the course registration and testing area.
But before he left. He looked at the boy who was drawing something on a notebook.
"Wanna come along?"
Olsen raised his head. "Where?"
"Registration office…"
"..Ohhh. Alright," he replied. Closed the book and pulled out a few quids from a compartment in his bag.
Once he was done. The boy smiled and walked ahead of Dean.
"Let's go.."
Dean, who stood at the door, allowed him pass first as he thought.
'After you.'
<><><>
Dean and Olsen entered the registration hall.
It was wide with stone walls and a ceiling that stretched too far upwards. Several groups occupied the area.
Some were in lines across from wooden desks where different people were stationed.
It was quite noisy and rowdy with a small crowd at the side of the hall.
Dean and Olsen looked at each other and with a silent understanding, they walked closer.
A small crowd surrounded something with a mix of excitement and unease.
Dean leaned closer to the edge. His eyes calmed as he watched.
The source of the rowdiness was a device with a metal frame and an arm with thick padding.
The arm swung from left to right on a track. Moving at different speeds.
A human girl stood in front of the device. She was barely tall enough to reach the paddings.
"It's too fast.." the girl complained.
"Your targets don't stand still," A bald instructor said. "So neither does this. Hit fast. Hit hard. This is your first taste of Franseint."
The girl nodded. Stepped forward and punched but her fist missed the target completely.
She tried again and she still hit air.
"Arghh," the girl grunted.
Dean chuckled. Olsen glanced at him and then looked back.
The girl gritted her teeth and punched again. She was barely able to graze it.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The screen on the device recorded.
[23]
The girl leaped in excitement. She was happier to hit the device more than the score.
She walked away with a grin even as others looked with contempt.
Dean watched as two more people tried. They both continued missing until they finally decided to quit.
"Tsk" Dean's expression was disturbed.
The device wasn't that difficult. It was definitely fast by normal standard but very much predictable.
These people were just too much in a hurry to hit it.
"All they have to do is track it," he mumbled under his breath while he instinctively looked at his shoulder.
It was blank. He'd forgotten his partner in crime wasn't there.
Immediately, Dean closed his eyes and when he opened it.
The slime was already on his left shoulder. It slid closer to his neck and just stayed there. Rubbing on him slowly.
"Miss you too buddy," Dean said.
"Woah. Is that a slime?"
A girl nearby was staring at Ash with a rather enthusiastic smile on her face.
"It's so cute…." Another girl leaned closer. "Can I touch it?"
Ash shifted like it wanted to bore a hole into Dean's neck. Making the girls giggle.
Dean didn't say anything. He only glanced at Ash for a second.
'Guess you're a chick magnet too…huh buddy.'
While the girls giggled, Olsen was staring at Ash. His eyes were wide.
"That's your Summon?" Olsen asked quietly.
"Yeah," Dean answered without looking.
"I've never seen one like that."
Dean almost smiled. "Nobody has."
"Interesting," Olsen said as he leaned in slightly, stretching his finger to poke Ash.
Then…
A voice caused Olsen to tilt his head sideways even as Dean's ears twitched.
"I told you it's the Reed kid," a duo casually walked by.
"You owe me 50 quids…Hahaha," one of the boys said excitedly.
"C'mon mehn… I don't have that type of money," the other boy pleaded.
"Maybe you could ask the useless heir. I heard he is quite the generous fellow."
Dean listened in as the whispers grew. His roommate was an obvious celebrity for all the wrong reasons.
Some called him a waste to his bloodline.
Others called him a disgrace.
Even while the public opinions grew louder. Its target was totally concentrated on Ash.
The curious giant was still poking the gelatinous body of Ash with the concentration of someone preparing for his final exams.
Dean smiled. It was obvious the boy could care less about their opinions.
'Then why did he let others bully him?'
"Next!"
The bald instructor announced.
His voice carried authority alongside the baritone pitch. Easily snapping all the attention back to himself.
"You?" The instructor pointed at Dean.
"Me?" Dean asked. Pointing to himself.
"Yes…You. Why are you not in line?"
"Just here to watch…" Dean answered with eyes locked on the man.
"It's okay to be nervous," the instructor spoke as his brows furrowed.
'Nervous?' Dean thought. Who did this man think he was talking to?
With Dean quiet, the instructor gestured for him to come forward.
Before he could move further. A boy with ghostly white skin and crimson eyes stepped forward.
The vampire was poised to test his strength when Dean noticed something.
The machine had begun moving really fast.
"Did you see that?" Dean looked at Ash and Olsen who were still interacting like long lost lovers.
"Yeah… that's how it works," Olsen answered without raising his head.
"Vampires are relatively faster.. so–"
"I see…," Dean responded. He understood the logic behind it.
But that logic was flawed.
The monsters they were supposedly training to kill didn't ask for your species when they came at you.
You were simply prey and that was it.
Vampire, Werewolf or Human. Everyone was getting the same level of ferocity regardless.
Dean watched as the vampire struggled before hitting the target. Scoring [38.]
'That's stupid,' Dean thought as he walked forward even before the instructor called for more scapegoats.
When he was closer to the device, his eyes flicked to a screen mounted on the wall.
It was a list of names and scores.
Louis Saint - [86]
Andre Truman - [70]
Rogue - [42]
Dean eyes stopped at the name
'Forty-two.' His eyes narrowed.
'Maybe he's not just an idiot.' Dean remarked inwardly.
The instructor looked at him. Then at Ash.
"Familiar stays on your shoulder?"
"Unless you want it off."
The instructor shrugged. "Your choice."
The device started moving with its speed adjusted to human levels.
Watching the device closely. Dean threw a straight punch just as it completed a full cycle.
The punch connected cleanly as the device beeped.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The screen displayed [55]
Olsen smiled but the rest of the crowd went quiet.
The instructor stared with intrigue.
"That bastard is cheating. His familiar must be an enhancement type," a voice accused boldly from behind.
Turning slowly towards the boy, Dean saw the smug smile on the bastard's face.
The rest of the crowd began murmuring. But the bald instructor was quick to quell the storm by raising his hand.
"Would you mind repeating it," the instructor asked. "Without your familiar this time," he finished.
"No….," Dean said as he walked off the stage but as he moved towards Olsen, he noticed the accusing faces of the crowd.
'These bastards,' his jaw tightened.
"...Fine.." he exclaimed. Just loud enough for everyone to hear.
He stopped in front of Olsen and handed Ash over to the boy.
"Hold this."
Olsen blinked. "What?"
"Hold my beer."
Dean turned back to the device even as the instructor reached for the control panel and adjusted something.
The device started moving again. It swung from left to right in a blur.
Dean didn't react. He just watched and slowed his breathing.
Then at the last second, his eyes flared.
Ding!
[Hermit's Eye activated]
At that moment. The world slowed down and each swing of the target became clearer and clearer.
Bam!
With both hands in front of his body. Dean planted his right leg firmly as he rotated his hips and drove his right fist forward like a bullet.
The fist landed dead center on the target in a blur.
The device rang like a bell.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The screen updated in real-time as it climbed like a rocket.
[30]
Dean deactivated Hermit's eye.
[40]
[50]
[55]
Some people held their breath.
[60]
The smug smile on the accuser's face disappeared quickly.
[65]
The instructor's eyes widened.
[70]
Dean turned before it finished climbing as a wicked smirk formed on the edge of his lips.