The West Courtyard – Late Afternoon
The sun beat down on the eight members of the Royal Team. They were currently doing handstand push-ups while wearing their iron vests.
"Ninety-eight... ninety-nine..." Shi Mo, the elder of the Graphite Brothers, groaned.
His face was red, veins popping on his forehead. As a Black Tortoise user, he was built for defense, not gymnastics.
"Ohhh, my spine is crying," he wheezed.
"Brother," his twin, the younger Shi Mu, wheezed from beside him. "I can't feel my arms. Are they still attached?"
"Urgh...I don't know," the elder twin grunted. "Ask ... huff...the sadist."
Arthev walked past them. He was reading a book titled Advanced Theory of Spirit Mimicry while doing one-handed handstand push-ups effortlessly. He didn't even look like he was exercising, he looked like he was just resting upside down.
"One hundred," Arthev said, flipping back to his feet with a light thud. "Break time.
Five minutes."
The team collapsed.
Yu Feng, the bird soul master, rolled onto his back, spreading his wings out on the grass.
"Ugh...I used to love flying," he mumbled.
"Now I just want to be a rock. Rocks don't have to do cardio."
"Rocks get eroded," Arthev corrected, marking his page. "Water always wins."
Dugu Yan sat up, wiping sweat from her forehead. She glared at Arthev, but it was a playful glare.
"Hmph.You know, Arthev, for a substitute, you act a lot like the captain."
Yu Tianheng, who was drinking water nearby, chuckled. "Let him have it. If he does the yelling, I save my breath for the running."
"Hey!" Dugu Yan threw a pebble at him
Arthev checked the position of the sun. "I need to step out for a moment. Lingling, check Osler's pulse. He looks a bit too pale."
"On it," Ye Lingling said, summoning her flower.
Arthev walked away from the training ground, heading toward the dense forest behind the academy buildings. He kept his pace casual, but his senses were fully expanded.
'No one is following,' Matatabi reported. 'The area is clear.'
Arthev nodded. He found a secluded spot behind a massive oak tree and sat down. His expression turned serious.
Ever since he sensed the "itch" last night, the faint disturbance Matatabi had picked up, he had felt uneasy. The Artifact of Skyhaven and the Pulse of Gluttony were powerful artifacts. Even though they were dormant, they emitted a unique frequency.
If the Broken Circle or a spy sent by Spirit Hall was in the city carrying these things in his pocket was like walking around with a GPS tracker.
"Time to put them away," Arthev whispered.
He reached into his shirt and pulled out the blue pendant. It felt cool to the touch.
He closed his eyes. Soul Power surged toward his eyes.
Mangekyou Shinragan.
When his eye snapped open, the geometric pattern spun wildly.
"Daikokuten."
The air in front of him didn't tear or break. It just... opened. A small, black portal expanded from open space, overriding reality.
It was a dimension where time did not exist. Whatever was put inside would remain exactly as it was, forever, until retrieved.
It was the ultimate storage. And the ultimate shield. Signals couldn't escape a place where time didn't move.
Arthev dropped the pendant into the black void.
It vanished instantly. The portal collapsed, shrinking back into nothingness.
Arthev blinked, the strain on his eye minimal. He had mastered the flow.
'Smart move,' Shukaku grunted.
'Now even if those sneaks are standing right next to you, they won't sniff out the goods. Unless they can smell your fear. Do you have fear, kid? I forget.'
"I have caution," Arthev replied, standing up and dusting off his pants. "Fear is for people who don't calculate the odds."
'Boring,' Shukaku yawned.
---‐---
The Academy Administration Office
While Arthev was securing his secrets, two very different secrets were walking through the front door of the Academy's hiring office.
The office was cluttered with paperwork. A tired-looking administrator with thick glasses looked up from his desk.
"Sigh. Name?" the administrator asked, not bothering to be polite.
Standing before him was a tall, thin man with a sharp face and wire-rimmed spectacles. He looked like every boring history teacher who had ever lived.
"Mr. Silas," the man said. His voice was dry and monotonous.
This was Whisper, using his Holo-Projector to perfection.
"Hmm. And him?" The administrator pointed to the short, twitchy man standing behind Silas.
The short man was wearing a chef's apron that was slightly too big for him. He was vibrating with suppressed energy.
" This is my cousin, Cook," Whisper said.
"Cook?" the administrator raised an eyebrow. "His name is Cook?"
"He is a man of simple talents," Whisper explained. "He cooks. He cleans. He fixes pipes. He does not talk much."
The short man, Spark, grinned. It was a wide, manic grin. He was holding a ladle like a weapon.
"I MAKE STEW!" Spark blurted out. "Hot stew. Boiling stew. Exploding ste..."
Thud
"OW! " Spark yelped.
Whisper stomped on Spark's foot. Hard.
"....Exquisite stew," Spark corrected with a squeak of pain. "Hehe... exquisite... "
The administrator sighed. Good help was hard to find, and the cafeteria was always understaffed.
"...Fine. Mr. Silas, we have an opening for a library assistant. Mr. Cook... report to the kitchens. Don't poison the students."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Spark giggled. "I only use fresh ingredients."
"...You're hired," the administrator stamped two forms. "Welcome to Heaven Dou Imperial Academy."
As they walked out of the office, Whisper kept his face impassive.
"Exploding stew?" Whisper hissed once they were in the hallway. "We are undercover, Spark. Subtle."
"I was improvising!" Spark whispered back angrily.
"And this apron itches. Why do I have to be the kitchen rat? Why can't I be a teacher? I can teach too. Boom! Class dismissed."
"Oh, for the love of.....Because you have the attention span of a goldfish," Whisper said.
"HEY! "
"Go to the kitchen. Listen to the gossip. Students talk when they eat. Find out who the Sage is. Find out if he has any strange items."
"..Fine," Spark grumbled, kicking the wall.
"But if a noble kid complains about my soup, I'm putting a rat in his bed."
"Just do the job," Whisper said, turning toward the library. "And don't use your EMP grenades on the ovens."
"Heh... no promises"
-------
The Cafeteria – Dinner
The Royal Team was eating again. The Iron Body training required massive calorie intake, so their table was piled high with plates.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Spark, wearing his oversized apron and a fake mustache that looked ridiculous, was pushing a cart of soup through the aisles.
He was humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a bomb counting down.
"Dum de dum....tick tock.... boom~ "
He stopped near the Royal Team's table. He pretended to wipe a spill, his ears twitching under his hat.
"Arthev," Yu Tianheng said, putting down his fork. "About the strategy for the tournament..."
Spark froze. Sage. Arthev. Bingo.
"What about it?" Arthev asked, drinking his tea.
"The Spirit Hall Team," Yu Tianheng said, his voice serious. "They have three Soul Kings. The Golden Generation. How do we counter raw power gap like that? Your physics tricks have limits."
Arthev paused. He placed his cup down.
Spark leaned in closer, pretending to scrub a spot on the floor. This is it. The secret weapon. The artifact?
"There is a concept in mechanics," Arthev said slowly. "Resonance."
"Resonance?" Dugu Yan asked.
"Ohhh... " Spark's eyes sparkled. Here it comes!
"If you tap a bridge at the right frequency," Arthev explained,
"Even a small force can cause it to collapse. Spirit Hall is strong, but they are rigid. We don't need to break the wall. We just need to find the crack and vibrate it."
Spark blinked.
...Bridge tapping? Vibrations?
"...That's it? " he muttered under his breath.
"Ahem. Also," Arthev added, his voice dropping lower. "I have something else."
Spark held his breath. Here it comes.
"I have discovered," Arthev whispered conspiratorially, "that if you mix spicy mustard with honey, it creates a glaze that increases stamina recovery by 2%."
CRASH.
Spark's ladle slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor.
"WHAAAT?" The Royal Team gasped.
"Really?" Osler asked, eyes wide.
"Yes," Arthev nodded gravely. "Pass the mustard."
Spark's eye twitched.
Twitch. Twitch. TWITCH.
"...MUSTARD?! " he hissed under his breath. "I'm spying on a CONDIMENT MEETING?! "
He angrily scrubbed the floor and pushed his cart away, muttering curses about teenagers and their stupid food theories.
"Stupid mustard... stupid honey... stupid perfect posture... "
Arthev watched the chef walk away. He didn't turn his head. He just took a bite of his honey-mustard chicken.
Chew
'That chef has a very distinct walk,' Arthev noted internally. 'He walks on the balls of his feet. Like he's ready to jump. And he smells like... gunpowder and burnt wire.'
'An assassin?' Matatabi asked.
'Or a saboteur,' Arthev thought. 'Either way, the cafeteria food just became a safety hazard.'
He looked at his team.
"Stop eating the soup," Arthev ordered quietly.
"Ehh? Why?" Shi Mo asked, spoon halfway to his mouth. "It's mushroom cream."
"Just a hunch," Arthev lied. "Too much salt. Bad for the joints."
"Aww... "Shi Mo looked at the soup sadly, then put the spoon down. Arthev was the boss of physical health, after all.
"So," Arthev said, changing the subject back to normal. "Tomorrow, we'll go to the city. We need to buy custom gear. Iron vests are good, but we need resistance bands."
"Ooh! Shopping trip!" Dugu Yan cheered, clapping her hands. "Finally, something fun!"
Arthev smiled thinly. A trip to the city would draw out any watchers. If the "chef" followed them, he would know for sure.
To be continued....