Just like I'd expected, the atmosphere on the second tier was completely different.
Separate tables for four or six people. Private booths along the walls, hidden behind thick curtains—clearly not for everyone. Waiters moved quickly but quietly between the tables.
The moment Christina and I stepped up, several people turned to look at me. Whispers started almost immediately. Within seconds, it felt like half the room was watching.
I wasn't the only one from the special division here.
But I was the only first-year.
At a few tables sat students wearing twenty or more badges. Personal bodyguards, most likely.
Christina didn't even acknowledge the attention. She just kept walking toward one of the booths like nothing was happening.
I followed. Quietly.
From behind her—she was about my height, around one-sixty-nine, same as I'd been in my previous life—I caught sight of Clyde. He was sitting alone on a soft couch at a square table.
He lifted his eyes.
"You're late."
"Sorry. Alan's stubborn—didn't want to come up. You saw that yourself. Already ordered?"
"Not yet." He reached for the call button while I slid into the seat across from him, next to Christina.
A waiter leaned into the booth.
"Have you decided?"
"One moment," Christina said, holding up a finger as she scanned the menu. "Alan? You picked something?"
"I'm not hungry," I said.
And for once, it wasn't a lie.
Christina placed her order. Clyde followed, then glanced at me.
"Make that two."
Silence settled over the table.
Heavy.
I looked around, more to avoid the tension than out of curiosity.
"So?" Christina asked. "What do you think?"
"Private," I said. "The waiters—are they specials too?"
"Not quite," Clyde answered. "The academy's staff are people who didn't meet the threshold of power for admission—but still chose to stay within our ranks."
I see.
Fear.
They'd seen enough to understand what was out there—and chose to stay somewhere safer. Somewhere protected.
"So why bring me here?" I asked.
"I looked at your training schedule. This was the only time that worked. I have my own responsibilities."
"You said you'd introduce me to your faction."
"We'll get to that. First—we talk."
"About what?" I leaned back slightly. "Look, I'm not interested in getting dragged into your games. I've got enough problems already."
"You've already caught Silius's attention," Christina cut in with a smile. "At this point, you don't really get a choice."
"The elite classes aren't all that different from the special division," Clyde continued.
I snorted before I could stop myself.
He didn't react.
"We carve our own path to the top. But we don't just carry our own future—we carry our family's name with us. Everyone here is ready to step over others if that's what it takes."
"Or latch onto someone who can do it for them," I added.
"Exactly."
"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me." I crossed my arms. "What I don't get is what you want with me. What—are you trying to take Theodore down?"
"Your brother isn't my concern. He's in his final year. His future is already secured. He aligned himself with the current chairman's faction at the right time instead of competing for the position himself. Smart move."
"And you're planning to be the next chairman."
"Most likely. But that's not the point." He paused. "Like I said before, I'm not satisfied with the current structure either. The fact that people who can't use power sit at the top of the hierarchy—that can end badly. Not just for specials. For everyone."
"And where do I come into that?"
"Right now? You don't." He looked straight at me. "But you've already drawn attention. People will be watching your progress closely. You're from one of the most influential families in the country—and you chose the special division. Do you understand what that means?"
"That I've become an outcast everywhere?" I let out a short, dry laugh.
"Have you?" he asked calmly. "From what I see, you've already made a few friends. Teacher Storik chose you as his personal student—and he doesn't exactly hide his contempt for aristocrats. Still, he took you on. Teacher Miror also thinks highly of your potential and is considering doing the same. Two instructors have singled you out. Most upperclassmen never get that."
"Andrew—Teacher Storik—helped me escape home. We knew each other before I enrolled. And Miror…" I shrugged. "She's just weird."
"Maybe. But you're not exactly ordinary either." He leaned back slightly. "You're not the first aristocrat to want power. But you're the first to openly defy a family like yours. That makes you interesting."
A pause.
"It's in my interest to make sure you graduate. And stay alive."
"So what am I to you?" I asked coldly. "An experiment?"
"You could call it that." He gestured toward the plates the waiter had just set in front of me. "Eat."
I didn't want to.
My throat felt tight. The food might as well have been stone.
But I forced it down anyway. Every bite.
Who knew when I'd get another chance like this?
"Thanks for the meal," I said, setting the utensils aside. "Am I free to go?"
"Holivan," Clyde said, his tone turning sharper, "from now on, you're under my control. When necessary, you'll carry out tasks for me."
"Excuse me?" I snapped.
"Because I'm a fourth-year elite student," he said calmly, "and I have the right to use junior students not already claimed by another elite however I see fit."
I opened my mouth—
Then shut it.
He wasn't wrong.
I remembered reading something like that.
"Those tasks can't harm me. Physically or mentally," I said quickly. "And you can't force me to hurt anyone. Or do anything that would lower my rating or cost me my badge."
"Then we understand each other."
"…Understood, Mr. Silius." I forced the words out. "Am I free to go now?"
"Yes."
I didn't wait for anything else.
I got up—
and left.