Shadow Slave: The Four Horseman of Deviants

"Will, you forgot your lunch!" a woman's voice called out, her tone both exasperated and affectionate as she hurried to catch up with him before he boarded the bus.

Will turned, his movements measured. He didn't want to overreact, especially with all the kids in the school bus watching.

"Thanks, Mom." He grabbed the lunch bag calmly, keeping his cool.

His mom leaned in to kiss his cheek, but Will raised a hand to stop her. "Mom, stop, we're in public," he said, his voice nonchalant but firm.

"Oh, I know," she replied with a mischievous grin, "and that's why I want to show them how much I love you!"

Will screamed internally, his embarrassment spiking.

"Okay, Mom, I love you too." He waved her off quickly, hoping to avoid any more attention, and stepped into the bus.

Inside, he made his way to a seat beside his rival, Damian.

Damian, who had been staring out the window, slightly jolted when Will sat down.

"Hey, Liam," Damian spoke up hesitantly, his voice quieter than usual. "Good luck in the election."

Will furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, good luck to you too," he replied curtly.

The rest of the bus ride passed in heavy silence. The atmosphere between them felt suffocating, but Will couldn't bring himself to break it. In truth, it was a welcome change of pace for him—a rare chance to take a break from his constant need to please everyone around him.

It wasn't easy to suddenly change how he presented himself to others. Over the years, he had developed this persona as a kind of defensive mechanism, one that helped him in his ambitions and interactions. Yet Damian, his rival for the student council presidency, was the only person to whom he revealed his true self.

It was a reckless choice, but Will knew Damian wasn't the type to gossip about others. What he'd done yesterday in the backstage wasn't just a spontaneous act. It was a calculated move to probe Damian's motivations and see how grand his plans for the school were.

But the results had been disappointing. Sure, Damian was motivated, but his vision for the school? Bland. Unrealistic. A shallow dream of equality.

"Liam, can I talk to you?"

Will felt a hand poke his shoulder, breaking his train of thought.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone carrying a faint edge of annoyance. "I'm not in the mood."

"I thought about what you said yesterday," Damian began, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "And I took it into consideration. I've worked on making my ambitions more sound and realistic, and I—"

"Too late to tell me now," Will cut him off, his tone dismissive. "The debate session between us already passed. Today's election day. You can tell your followers if you want, but you've already shown me what you're capable of."

Damian's face darkened. He clenched his pants, his annoyance clear.

"Please," he said, his voice quieter now, "can you at least listen to me? I want to prove that my beliefs are something I can fight for."

Will smirked, intrigued by Damian's persistence. "Win the election," he said coolly, "then maybe I'll hear you out."

"….."

'Good,' Will thought to himself, smirking as Damian fell silent. 'I was able to shut him up.'

Boredom settled in, so Will decided to check the updates on the web novels he followed.

Story-wise, web novels and physical novels shared a similar foundation in how they expressed ideas and narratives. However, web novels often padded their content with unnecessary chapters, milking their readers and earning more royalties in the process.

That aspect intrigued Will. The idea of investing time and money into such content seemed foolish at first glance, but he found it worth it when the stories proved their value. Some web novels, like Shadow Slave, stood out with their incredible story efficiency and well-rounded world-building. These were the ones he believed deserved his investment.

He read the latest chapter of one of his favorites. It turned out to be another filler, but Will didn't mind. He understood it gave the author breathing room to make the main storyline more compelling.

After finishing, he glanced at his schedule. Four classes in the morning, three in the afternoon, and martial arts practice afterward. The day was already packed.

The election, on the other hand, was taking a more modern approach. Voting would be done online through a survey form, ensuring every student's participation was tracked.

Time passed, and the bus finally came to a stop.

Winston Hand School. A prestigious institution well-known throughout Indiana. Most of its students came from high-status families or earned scholarships through sheer intellect or strong backing.

The school buildings gleamed with polish, their architecture a testament to both tradition and modernity. High pillars supported the structures, their red, white, and brown colors blending harmoniously. The school housed both middle and high schoolers, and its graduates often went on to excel in universities. For Will, graduating from Winston Hand was a non-negotiable goal.

"Hey, Liam, good luck with the election," one of the students greeted him as he stepped off the bus.

Will returned the greeting with a high five. "Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll return the favor at some point."

"Hey, Liam, that speech you gave yesterday was goated!" Another student approached him, full of enthusiasm.

This time, Will opted for a dap. "Nice to see someone appreciates it. Thanks a lot, bro."

"Liam, I love you, man!" a third student called out from across the hall.

"And I love you too," Will responded with a playful point of his fingers.

Walking through the hallway, Will maintained a plastered smile.

'What's with all this unnecessary attention? I didn't know my speech made such an impact… Well, that's to be expected of me.'

"Hey, Liam," a girl called out to him, her tone friendly and straightforward. "My friend wants to give you this letter." She pointed toward another girl standing by her locker, nervously hiding her face behind its small door.

'Oh… another one?'

"Yeah, yeah, I'll read it when I have the time," Will replied nonchalantly.

"Thanks so much! I'll let her know you accepted it."

Will waved her off, continuing down the hall. Ten minutes remained before the bell rang, so he ducked into the restroom.

Once inside, he tossed the letter into the trash without a second glance.

'I'm not really interested in having a girlfriend right now.'

He washed his hands and stepped out, heading to class just as the day officially began.

…..

Here's the polished version of the scene with the dialogues untouched:

The bell rang, signaling lunch break. Most of the students streamed into the cafeteria, their chatter filling the hallways. As Will walked through, he checked the online election on his phone.

The school had emailed every student a unique link for voting earlier, just before lunch. Will quickly cast his vote for himself, then locked his phone without bothering to check the results. That could wait until after school.

Heading toward the cafeteria, a group of students caught sight of him.

"Hey, Liam, want to eat with us?"

It was a group of football players, their jerseys unmistakable. Will hesitated for a moment but eventually gave a polite smile.

"Sure, I'll eat with you guys," he said, keeping his tone friendly.

"Hell yeah! Mr. President is coming through," said the jock who had invited him, leading him to their table.

The rest of the group greeted him enthusiastically.

"Aye, it's Mr. President. Gotta say, that speech yesterday," one of them said, mimicking a chef's kiss, "was a cherry on top, bruh."

"Yeah, Pres, guess you got that dawg in you," another chimed in, slinging an arm around Will's shoulder like they were longtime friends.

Will laughed lightly, playing along. "Oh, guys, you're making me blush with all these compliments. I mean, come on, you guys won the championships in Indiana. You're the real dawgs!"

The group went quiet for a beat before one of them exclaimed, "Damn… I didn't know Pres was chill like that!"

"Guys, don't call me Pres yet. I haven't won the election," Will replied, feigning modesty.

"It's a sure win for us, big bro. You've got our respect!"

"Yeah, Damian looked nervous as hell yesterday. Guess he couldn't handle your aura, bro."

'Yeah, I really don't want to talk about this any further,' Will thought.

He redirected the conversation. "Hey, why don't you tell me about your games recently? Bet you guys dominated, huh?"

"We sure did! Let me tell you about it," one of them said excitedly, launching into a detailed play-by-play of their recent matches.

The football players were a rowdy bunch, their energy infectious. Despite their antics, Will found them surprisingly respectful of his personal boundaries. Someday, he thought, these guys could become some of the best players in the country. He imagined them looking back at this time, holding him in high regard as someone who inspired their journey to greatness.

Suddenly, a ringtone interrupted their banter. One of the players checked his phone before silencing it.

"Hey, why didn't you pick it up?" asked another.

"Ah, it's chill. Just my girlfriend checking up on me. I swear, she's so clingy," he replied with a shake of his head.

"Damn, bro, you got a girlfriend? Is she hot?"

"Yeah, she's hot, but man, the clinginess is such a turn-off."

"Sweet! Can I have her?"

"No way, she's mine, bro."

The two started bickering but soon burst into laughter.

"How about you, Pres? Do you have a girlfriend?" one of them asked, turning to Will.

Will paused mid-bite before answering, "Nah, I don't really plan on having a girlfriend."

"What, you gay or something?"

'That's quite the assumption, don't you think?' Will thought but kept his composure.

"Nah, I just haven't found my type yet," he said simply.

The bell rang before anyone could press further.

"Ah! My class is about to start, guys. I'm heading out first." In one swift motion, Will packed his lunch and left the cafeteria.

"Damn, he's fast! Did you see how he ran? We gotta recruit him for the team," one of the players remarked.

"Yeah, good luck with that, he's gonna be too busy with Student Council work if he wins."

"Ah, shit. Then we don't vote for him so he doesn't win," one of them joked, though the suggestion was met with mixed reactions.

"And you're just gonna go back on your word now?" another said, raising a brow.

"Ey, we gotta do something, right?"

"Bro, that's just disrespect. You know what Coach said—we don't accept anyone until next year."

"Then we wait for him next year?"

"I don't think that's how it works, bruh."

Their argument escalated, voices growing louder as they tossed ideas back and forth, none of them making much sense. It wasn't long before their squabble was interrupted by one of the players checking the time.

"Shit, we're late!" he exclaimed, shoving his chair back.

"Damn it, move! We gotta go!"

In a chaotic scramble, the football team grabbed their belongings and bolted out of the cafeteria, their earlier discussion about Will completely forgotten in their rush to avoid tardiness.

…..

Here's the cleaned-up version with all dialogues intact:

School had ended, and Will was about to check the online election results when someone ran up to him.

It was Damian—panting heavily, his breath uneven. Will couldn't help but scoff at his sorry state.

"What do you want?"

"I just pant want to check the results with you pant. I've been trying to find you."

"Sure, let's check the results together then." Will didn't mind at all.

"The election has come to an end. The winner of the election, with 55.3% of the students' vote, is—"

"William Hernandez of Class 3A," Damian read bitterly.

"Well, it was an expected result," Will said nonchalantly, as if he'd known he was going to win. "I'm going first. Goodbye, Damian."

Damian continued staring at his phone, his face a mixture of anger and sadness.

Noticing this, Will paused. "Don't be like that. You tried your best. Maybe next time you'll win."

"You think you're above everyone, don't you?" Damian muttered under his breath.

"Come again?"

"You really think that you can do everything on your own?" Damian asked, his tone laced with doubt.

"Yeah, because everyone will work with me. I already know a lot of people who can help me make a difference in this school."

Will glanced at the time. Practice was starting soon.

"We'll talk some other time. I still have something else to do," he said before walking away, leaving Damian standing there, still clutching his phone.

….

After practice, Will went straight home without making any detours.

"I'm home!"

"Welcome home, sweetie! How's school?"

"It's good. I just became the student council president."

His mom cheered and hugged him tightly.

"Oh~~ I'm so proud of you!" She snuggled her face into his chest.

"Anyways, Mom, is Dad home?"

"Oh, he's in the kitchen, eating dinner."

"…"

His mom grabbed his hand.

"Let's eat dinner together. It's a rare occasion that your dad's gotten home earlier than usual."

"…Yeah."

They walked to the kitchen, where his dad was sitting with a coffee mug in hand.

"Welcome home. How's school?" his dad asked in a tired tone.

"Great. I just became the new student council president."

"Oh… Good job. Make sure you handle your people properly, or else they won't listen to you."

'That's it? Just a lackluster piece of advice?' Will thought bitterly.

"Yeah, I will," he said before glancing at his mom with a faint, bitter smile. "I'm not hungry, Mom. I'll just go to my room. I have to prepare for a pop quiz."

"Oh… Okay. Just come down when you're hungry, okay?" his mom said in a worried tone.

Heading upstairs and toward his room, Will gritted his teeth and gripped the door handle tightly before stepping inside.

'Just when are you going to show genuine interest in me…?'

…..

A month later, Will was busy preparing for an upcoming event at his school.

The event was a meet-and-greet for other schools in the area—one of Will's suggestions that had been approved.

The school agreed it was a great idea but set a strict limit: the event had to wrap up within three hours.

Will had gathered a team of students to help with the setup.

The school's gymnasium was chosen as the venue, and they only had five days to get everything ready.

Will began delegating tasks, assigning each person a specific workload to keep things organized.

Thanks to his leadership, everything soon fell into place.

The school had provided a reasonable budget to host the event, and all Will had to do now was oversee the execution of his plans.

"Hey, you guys, where's the budget our school gave us?"

Just as Will thought everything was under control, something went wrong.

The budget provided by the school had disappeared.

….

Hey guys, if you enjoyed the story, please follow my work in the Official Discord of Shadow Slave. It will help me motivate to continue this story.

here is the link: https://discord.com/channels/982182985862377522/1305887939993141258