NOVEL NEXT Chapter 102: LOOK AT THIS RIGHT NOW.
The entire classroom had that same dead, suffocating boredom clinging to the air, something monster anatomy could do to anyone. I was only half-listening, or, more accurately, one-twentieth listening. My brain was drifting somewhere between I should really take notes and I wonder if I could fake my own death for the next thirty minutes.
I slouched in my seat by the window, tapping my pen against the desk. Nora sat beside me, elegant as ever, posture perfect even while her soul visibly tried to leave her body. Sacha was nestled on my shoulder, half-asleep, her tiny claws occasionally digging into my coat whenever the professor's voice got too loud.
Thenbuzz.
My phone vibrated.
Nora's vibrated at the exact same moment.
We both stiffened slightly. That kind of synchronicity only meant one thing:
Either something important happened… or something stupid happened.
Because knowing my life, there was no in-between.
I opened my phone first, and immediately felt my entire existence sour.
A message from him.
Prince Vincent.
Golden hair, annoying voice, and the very punchable face I'd lovingly introduced to the floor during Nora's birthday.
The same prince I kept calling Onecent because seeing him get angry about it was a gift to humanity.
The message read:
Sebastian, the funds will be deposited into your account shortly.I had to ask an acquaintance to assist with the transfer.Thank you for your patience.
My eye twitched.
Patience.
Patience.
It had been over a month since the duel. A month of waiting for my glorious, beautiful, life-changing 500 million thalgar.
The money that could make even a rat king retire comfortably.
"Unbelievable," I muttered, slumping back in my seat. "I beat that golden mop into the dirt, and I still haven't seen a single coin."
Sacha lifted her head, blinking sleepily.
"Papa is angry?"
"No," I said, voice calm but full of righteous fury. "Papa is… spiritually offended."
She patted my cheek with her tiny paw. "Sacha will bite Onecent for Papa."
"That's honestly tempting."
A soft tap hit my shoulder.
Nora.
Her expression was polite as always, but her eyes were screaming LOOK AT THIS RIGHT NOW.
She pushed her phone toward me like she was handing me top-secret intel.
I raised a brow and took it.
And in that moment, the entire mood shifted, because whatever was on her screen…
Yeah. It was going to be good.
The moment my eyes landed on Nora's screen, I felt something in my chest brace for impact. And it was a good call, because what I saw wasn't just bad, it was spiritually catastrophic.
Right at the top of her messages, bold as daylight and with absolutely no shame, was the contact name she had assigned to the prince: Backup Parts for Little Dimitri.
I stared at the name for a long moment, then slowly shifted my gaze to Nora.
She didn't speak.
She didn't even raise an eyebrow.
She only gave me that quiet, perfectly composed look that somehow managed to ask, Sebastian, have you truly not put the pieces together? I closed my eyes for a second, sighed, and nodded to myself. "Right," I muttered. "Fine. That one's on me."
But the name, glorious as it was, didn't even come close to the masterpiece below it.
Because the actual message? That was where the universe really showcased its comedic timing.
The prince's text wasn't dignified. It wasn't royal. It wasn't even passably pathetic. It was the kind of desperate plea that could make a grown adult curl up on the floor out of secondhand embarrassment.
Every paragraph was practically dripping with the misery of a man who had flown too close to the sun and burned off every last feather.
Sister Nora… I find myself in an unexpected situation.The amount required to pay Sebastian is far greater than what I currently have available.
I am, regrettably, two hundred million thalgar short.I humbly request no, beg that you lend me the remainder, and I swear upon my name that I will repay you in time.Please… I ask not as a prince, but as someone in desperate need.
I didn't even make it through the full message before something inside me snapped. Laughter exploded out of me, loud, violent, cathartic, and I had to grip the edge of my desk with both hands just to keep myself from physically collapsing.
Nora wasn't doing much better; she had a hand clamped over her mouth, her entire body trembling with the force of the laughter she was trying so, so hard not to let out. Sacha jolted awake on my shoulder, fur puffing up, blinking rapidly in alarm as she tried to figure out who or what had just died.
"Papa?? Is danger here??" she squeaked, her tiny claws digging into my coat.
"No," I gasped out between helpless bursts of laughter, "no, no danger. Just...just royal financial disaster."
The professor, unfortunately, chose that exact moment to stop lecturing. He turned toward me with the kind of slow, controlled motion that teachers only used when they were mentally preparing funerals.
"Mr. Nekros," he said sharply, his voice slicing through the room like a thrown blade, "do you find the structure of an ogre's respiratory system humorous?"
I snapped upright so fast my spine might have realigned.
"…No, sir."
He stared at me for another heartbeat, then returned to the board and resumed his absolutely soul-crushing explanation of monster sex. Which meant, thankfully, that I was free to immediately stop listening again.
I leaned closer to Nora, wiping at my eyes as I tried to contain the last remnants of laughter still trying to escape. "He can't be serious," I whispered, still breathless. "He's actually begging you for money? Him?"
Nora didn't trust herself to speak yet. She simply nodded, her lips pressed together so tightly they'd gone pale from the effort of keeping her laughter silent.
Her eyes were sparkling, actually sparkling, not with her usual fan girl sparkle, but with delight, the kind of delight she only ever showed when something catastrophic happened to someone she disliked.
I shook my head slowly, staring at the tragic, miserable message on her screen. Two hundred million short. Of course he was.
Of course, the prince who bragged online about having six personal stylists and a golden bathtub shaped like his own face was this financially incompetent. He probably spent most of the duel deposit on hair products and ceremonial armor wax.
I tapped her phone lightly with my finger. "Okay," I murmured, "hear me out. And I say this with complete sincerity." I paused, letting the gravity of the moment settle. "Can I take a picture of this?"
Nora didn't even hesitate. She tilted her phone toward me with a level of generosity that would've made saints weep. "If you must," she whispered.
"Oh, I must," I said reverently. "For posterity. For personal joy. For future rainy days when I need emotional healing."
I lifted my phone, snapped the picture, and saved it with the kind of care one usually reserves for treasured family photos. Sacha leaned in, studying the screen with the deep, serious focus of a scholar.
"This is Onecent?" she asked slowly.
"Yeah," I said, unable to hide my grin.
She nodded solemnly. "Sacha understands now why he is Onecent."
I smiled wider, sinking back into my chair as the professor droned on completely unnoticed. Nora exhaled silently beside me, relief and amusement still shimmering in her eyes.
And as I saved the screenshot, labeling it with a name that ensured I would never, ever forget this moment, I couldn't help feeling that the entire day was already shaping up to be perfect.
And it wasn't even lunchtime.
The universe, apparently, wasn't done rewarding me.
Just as I finished saving the screenshot, carefully, lovingly, in a folder titled ROYAL TRAGEDIES, Professor Croft cleared his throat at the front of the room. His voice, normally the verbal equivalent of wet cardboard, suddenly carried weight. Purpose. Meaning.
"Alright, class," he said, snapping his book shut with a finality that made half the students jolt upright. "We'll stop here for today."
For the first time in an hour, every head in the room lifted. Even Nora blinked back into full alertness. Sacha perked up on my shoulder like someone had whispered treats.
Professor Croft continued, "Before you leave, you should begin deciding your groups for the upcoming Hollowveil excursion."
Ah. Right. The monster-infested, mist-drenched, chronically haunted Hollowveil Forest. The place where first-years either proved they belonged in Astralis or proved that the healing wing needed more beds.
Croft adjusted his glasses, scanning the room with that neutral, mildly disappointed expression he always wore, as if he was preemptively upset with all of us.
"Each team must consist of at least three members," he said, "and no more than five. I expect your groups to be finalized by the end of the day."
A ripple of low chatter began immediately. People were already twisting around in their seats, whispering names, nudging friends, plotting alliances like it was political warfare. Because it was. Team selection week in Astralis Academy was practically a blood sport.
I leaned back, crossing my arms, watching the chaos unfold with a faint smirk. Nora looked at me, eyes glimmering with amusement.
"Perfect day, huh?" she murmured.
I shrugged. "Hey," I said, feeling the grin widen, "when the universe commits, it commits."
Sacha bobbed her head enthusiastically. "Papa is lucky today."
Before I could respond, Professor Croft gave a tired wave of dismissal and strode out of the classroom, leaving behind forty students and one very smug me.
And just like that, the real game began.
A/N: To celebrate almost a month of writing, I'm starting an Extra Chapter Event!
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