"Class F"
Wait... what? Class F?
Surely not. Even if the instructors couldn't fully know what his unique skill was all about, they still had the instruments to measure the rarity of his potential.
There had to be some kind of mistake!
After all, isn't this kind of thing only happening inside the web novels?—the kind where the protagonist is underestimated and shoved into Class F, only to rise above everyone else later?
But he wasn't the protagonist! He had no plan to be the strongest either.
So surely... this couldn't be real.
Beep!
Potential affinity in Fire: F
Potential affinity in Water: F
Potential affinity in Earth: F
Potential affinity in Wind: F
Potential affinity in Dark: F
Potential affinity in Light: F
Overview: F class
"IT'S OVER! IT'S SO OVER ARGHH"
****
10:45 PM
After what seems like an hour of breakdown, Elijah finally reached the destination down to Dormitory F.
The dormitories reflect the students.
Dormitory S is grand almost like a mansion with private pools, a restaurant, and libraries, with only 11 students nestled in.
The Dormitory A was seen as a futuristic condominium with a big ahh garden.
Dormitory B was just a regular apartment.
We don't talk about Dormitory C, D, E.
(Those apartments just feel lifeless.)
However... surely... it isn't the worst compared to Dormitory F...
It was just straight-up something that appears in horror novels.
An abandoned establishment, with graveyard nearby.
In the Rubeus Academy's vision, it was mentioned. "Everyone is equal inside the Academy"
But isn't this straight-up racism?!
Elijah approached a worn wooden door, the faded brass number that read...
'Room 10890'
'Today, I am one of the neglected students', he thought to himself with a small sigh of resignation.
Grasping the doorknob, he was about to turn it open when suddenly, a hand abruptly grabbed his arm.
"Oi, what the fuck are you doing in my room?"
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The voice came from a man who towered over Elijah, standing at least 6'3"—probably a few inches taller than Dohwun.
(Elijah with his Asian height of 5'8 was probably crying in the corner.)
'Damn foreigners.'
The stranger has bright green eyes, matching color with his disheveled hair. He wasn't muscular, more like a lean stick.
"Huh? What are you staring at!"
He sure did not bother to hide his hostility clicking his tongue.
Then first things first, out of habit, Elijah took a small glimpse of the system interface right above his head.
[ Dolph Albinus, Background Character. ]
'Pfft... background character'
No wonder Elijah could not recall such features. It was just a background character from the start! Not even an extra who appears 1 second in the novel, just a background character.
Letting out a small sigh, he thought to himself.
'Oh well, since he's just a background character, I'll be nice...'
He glanced at the man named 'Dolph', meeting his glare with a sorry look and smile, then calmly returned his focus to the doorknob.
But Dolph wasn't done. Tightening his grip on Elijah's arm, he barked, "Hey! That's not your room!"
Before he could react, Elijah moved his body.
Swoosh...
The green-haired lad's world spun as Elijah swiftly yanked his arm free and tackled him to the ground.
Then...
Thud!
He hit the floor hard, the impact rattling through the hallway.
Somewhere nearby, a voice called out:
"Hey, hey! Someone's fighting on the third floor—AGAIN!"
----
'Professor...'
A title once regarded as sacred and noble from the past, up until now.
Inside the Rubeus Academy; where it was renowned for training the most gifted Executors to battle the nightmares, it was an honor simply to be admitted.
To hold the title of Professor there was an even greater distinction.
However...
"Professor Dean, someone from your class got into a fight. You're being asked to report to the office. Again."
Dean sighed internally.
"Isn't this the seventh time I've been called in? The class hasn't even started yet!!"
*****
August 5, 1347
Tuesday.
Combing his black hair and adjusting his round glasses, A man placed his favorite witch-like hat on his head.
He fixed the textbooks from his desk, pausing to glance at the mirror. Where, staring back was a plump face framed by nervousness.
This was the life of Professor Dean.
Today was his first day at his dream job, and he reminded himself of the most important thing:
'don't forget to fix your smile.'
"Good. I'm ready to go!"
Arriving at the door of his assigned classroom, he was greeted by a worn-down, depressing sight.
The place looked like it had seen better days, maybe decades ago.
But that's not an issue for him. Despite its lackluster appearance, Dean couldn't help but feel excitement and as well fear.
How could he not?
The infamous F Class. It was rumored to be the worst section in the Academy—so much so that most instructors avoided it entirely.
But for Dean, the idea of abandoning a class felt wrong. No matter how weak or unruly a student might be, he believed that anyone with the willingness to learn had the potential to succeed.
"Today, I have to make an impression,"
Clearing his throat with a small cough, he pushed the door open.
And...
Chaos awaited him.
Noise filled the classroom, he barely dodged a flying knife that sailed past his head.
The scene was utter mayhem: thugs threw papers and vandalized walls, while women fussed over makeup and dresses. Others sat silently, their faces either minding their own business or just sleeping.
Dean's stomach tightened.
"Crap... now I feel even more nervous."
Steeling himself, he walked to the blackboard, trying to maintain his composure.
No one noticed his arrival.
Plastering on his best smile, he addressed the class.
"Well then, everyone, the class is starting. Please take your seats."
Not a single student listened.
Undeterred, he tried again.
"Is there anyone who would like to introduce themselves?"
Silence.
Just as Dean was about to feel more depressed, a small voice echoed reaching out.
"Can I go first, Professor?"
In the far corner, a hand was raised.
It belonged to a young man with tanned brown skin, dark blue eyes, and equally dark blue hair.
It was Elijah.
Smiling faintly, Elijah stood and spoke.
"I'd like to start by introducing myself."
What a kind student! Or What an attention seeker.
That might others think when looking at Elijah.
But it's better for them to think that way than to know what's going on the back of Elijah's mind.
"I've found the rook in my piece,"
Elijah's gaze shifted slightly, focusing on the space above Dean's head where a hovering system interface displayed:
[Dean Porche, 7th Main Antagonist]