The eraser was like a bullet that whizzed through the air with speed and power. Griff used his entire arm strength to propel this normal everyday object into a lethal projectile.

Patty, the lazy bum that he was, didn’t notice a thing. He didn’t have the time to. This bullet of an eraser headed straight for him with only a very small distance to travel.

And as this eraser hurtled through the air, Griff’s inexperience in using his arms properly showed itself. He had always trained his legs to be lethal weapons, but not his arms.

He might have grown his arms with muscle of steel using his enhanced physicality and a carefully proctored exercise routine, but they still haven’t taught him how to properly harness this strength.

This was the very first time that he unleashed this tremendous amount of strength in his arms. It felt like an untamable cannon. He might have had the strength, but he didn’t have the accuracy.

The eraser whizzed behind Patty’s head and hit the side wall, almost creating a dent. It missed Patty by the length of a middle finger.

All things considered, his aim was very close. If he could redo it multiple times, he would probably take him at least five more tries before he could hit Patty accurately.

But Professor Wraitheborne’s piercing gaze stopped him from doing anything foolish. Of course he would notice. The Professor might not have a problem with a small fuss between students, but they couldn't do it while he was in the middle of a lecture.

Griff only had that one chance and he failed to teach Patty a lesson.

—————

Patty didn’t even notice the eraser bullet almost hitting him square in the back of the head. He was busy trying his hardest to fall asleep so that he wouldn’t have to try hard in class.

He didn’t even notice the WHIZ of air behind his head. He didn’t even feel the hair on the back of his head flutter from the air displaced by the speedy eraser. He didn’t even notice the anger building up in Griff’s head manifested as a big vein on his left forehead.

No, he didn’t notice any of those.

Why? It was because a few seconds before Griff even moved his arms to throw like a novice baseball pitcher—before he even picked up the eraser from his bag, he heard an annoying little thing in his ears.

He heard a small buzzing in his ears. It was so soft and quiet that it would have been drowned out by the ambient sounds of the classroom with the students chatting, the Professor speaking, and the sound of pages in a notebook being turned.

He shouldn’t have heard it, but he did.

bzzzt

It sounded like a small insect, like a bee, buzzing about just inches away from him. But when he looked around, he didn’t see the source of that annoying little sound.

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And whenever he turned his head, the sound would follow whatever direction his head was turned in. It was like he was wearing headphones and the only music on it was the ASMR sound of a bee buzzing.

At first, he was only curious about what it was. But when he tried and failed to find it, he quickly became annoyed.

That all started even before Griff threw the eraser.

And after the eraser whizzed past Patty’s head and missed him completely, the buzzing quickly stopped.

It was a mysterious and unexplained phenomenon that he couldn’t figure out. If it were other people, their minds would be filled with theories of what it was. They would try to find out the truth to that event even if it meant that they would be able to concentrate the whole day.

Not Patty. Like a wet blanket, his laziness put out the fire of curiosity and annoyance inside him like it was nothing. Worrying about something was a strenuous mental activity that he didn’t like to do. He liked to keep his mind empty.

After that incident, he just went back on his task of trying to fall asleep like nothing ever happened.

———-

Griff couldn’t believe how lucky that guy was. First, he dodged the leg that was supposed to trip him, and now he didn’t get hit from the eraser. What were the chances?

The more Griff failed in catching Patty, the more motivated he was in finally beating the lazy bone out of him.

He gave his three friends a knowing look. They all nodded with understanding as they shot an evil look at Patty. They knew Griff’s sadistic way of showing love to his classmates and what their role was in making sure that it happened with no eyes watching them.

In their mind, Patty was a dead man. They couldn’t even believe that it was only now that Patty would be getting a taste of asphalt. Usually, Patty would be invisible and stay out of their way, but somehow, he finally caught the ire of Griff.

“I’ll introduce him to someone,” Griff whispered.

His lackeys laughed to themselves. It was another way for Griff to say that Patty would be saying hi to the pavement real soon.

Griff couldn’t wait until he finally showed Patty his real strength. His mastery over his own legs allowed him to be confident that his kicks will not be dodged nor will it miss.

This time, he wouldn’t get away, Griff thought.

The classes with Professor Mortimer Wraitheborne continued with him listing out the dreams and ambitions of his students.

There were those who wanted to own their businesses, some wanted to become adventurers and sell Fiendish cores, one wanted to become the mayor of the whole town—an ambitious dream to say the least, commented the professor.

Everyone sounded enthusiastic and hopeful when they talked about their dreams. Even the most reserved student in class: a black-haired girl with bangs that covered her entire eyes sounded a few decibels higher than her usual soft voice when she talked about how much she wanted to become an extraterrestrial diplomat.

But even if the dream sounded far fetched, no one ridiculed them. They all had dreams that were hard to fulfill, so they had no place to make fun of others.

They all believed that they could reach their dreams. That was because even in their infancy, the adults, teachers, and seniors all told them that if they worked hard, they could achieve anything.

But everyone knew that not all of them could achieve their dreams. One in particular, seemed all the more likely to fail.

“I will reach the whole world with my singing,” said Grammo Beatik with confidence beaming from his smile.

HAHAHA

No way!

Kukukuku

Laughs and ridicules surrounded the whole classroom. Everyone was mocking Grammo with their belittling of his larger than life dream and his ability to achieve it. The only one who didn’t want Patty because he was too busy trying to sleep.

Even the Professor, whose whole job was to encourage his students to try hard and achieve their dreams, discouraged Grammo from his dream.

“Perhaps you would like to achieve some other dream? I know you are good at writing, do you want to become a poet or a writer?”

Grammo vehemently shook his head. He was hell bent on being a singer that would perform at grand stages with a blaring voice that would reach the end of the skies and into heaven.

“Professor, didn’t you tell us that with hard work, we can achieve anything?”

“Yes I did, but—“

“And I’m just following that.” Grammo then grabbed the guitar case on the side of his chair and pulled out an old-fashioned acoustic guitar made out of pure mahogany without any magical modifications that most guitars usually had. “I’m going to sing you a song to prove it.”

Griff and his lackeys were the first ones to plug their ears using torn out pages from their notebooks. Others just turned their heads. One actually went out of the room with the excuse of ‘going to the bathroom.’

Grammo strummed his guitar and a nice sound reverberated throughout the classroom. His hands were steady as he switched from chord to chord like a professional.

Judging only his ability to play the guitar as an instrument, no one would make fun of him if he said that he would someday become the greatest musician ever.

If this was the first time his classmates heard him play the guitar, they would have been impressed. But, that was because they didn’t know what would happen next.

“liKE tHe SuPRemiTy oF The BEinG

My vOiCe, eAch NOiSe, wE wiLL be BoYS

ThRoUgH ThE hEAveNs, wILL bE LEaKinG

TiMes wiLL gO BaCk”

It was horrible. His voice and tone changed every word, his pitch was always sharp and out of tune, and his singing actually made the glass windows of the classroom break a little bit.

Griff couldn’t hold it in anymore and shouted, “Stop! Stop! I’ll believe you’re a singer when Patty stops being a lazy, good for nothing bum that is useless to society.”