Chapter 303
SUSPICION (2)
IAM sat in the back of the mini car, squeezed onto the narrow bench alongside the others, as Yohan drove them toward the Student Council building. The reason for this arrangement was simple and the same way they always decided who would take the wheel.
A game of rock-paper-scissors. And yohan had lost this time round.
To be more precise, IAM had been the first to lose. However, after a brief but intense argument, the rest had unanimously voted to pardon him. The reasoning was less about mercy and more about survival—none of them trusted his driving enough to risk crashing into some unfortunate student.
So Yohan had taken the wheel.
IAM now sat beside Henry, who, ever since the night before, had been shooting him excited, restless glances. It was obvious what was on his mind. Training. Fighting. Pushing himself further. IAM could practically feel the impatience rolling off him in waves. But that wasn't the focus.
Right now, they had something else to deal with.
They were on their way to the Student Council.
A little while back in the cafeteria, they had been in the middle of a serious discussion—one that had been abruptly cut short when IAM had been summoned and come face to face with The Flame for the first time. The topic had been their so-called punishment.
Cleaning duty.
A complete waste of time.
They were planning to plead their case to Ari, to request that she reconsider and revoke the absurd sentence. Every hour spent scrubbing halls and toilets was an hour stolen from things that actually mattered—training, studying, resting, socialising, or doing quite literally anything more productive.
Especially when they all knew the truth.
The academy staff had already cleaned everything.
Their punishment wasn't about necessity. It was about making a point.
However, the boys all agreed on one thing—they had definitely received the message, and they were more than ready to break free from these particular shackles.
They had actually come to the Student Council earlier that day to request a meeting with Ari. Unfortunately, the receptionist had shut that down immediately, informing them that they would need to finish their punishment first before any such request could even be considered.
With sour expressions, they had no choice but to comply.
It wasn't just the work itself that irritated them. It was the fact that they were being made to do it in full view of other students. The last thing any of them wanted was to be seen scrubbing floors and corridors like delinquent children. So they pushed through it quickly, silently hoping this would be the last time they ever had to endure something so humiliating.
Once it was finally over, they regrouped as agreed and headed back together.
It was during that time that IAM brought up an idea.
Joining the Student Council.
At first, it had been almost a passing thought, but the more he spoke about it, the more sense it began to make. The benefits were obvious—authority, access, information, resources and influence. Not to mention protection from being targeted by other students for the sake of their brand's marketing strategy or burdened with pointless punishments again.
Reuel's reaction had been immediate.
His eyes had practically lit up as he rambled about how he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it sooner, going on about connections, prestige, and holding onto the leg of the Student Council meant standing close to power, standing among those who would one day become the leaders of the next generation, and being part of the circle that shaped the country's future.
Henry had been just as interested, though for different reasons. The idea of gaining access to better training rooms, higher-level facilities, and superior equipment clearly appealed to him.
Yohan, as usual, had been quieter, but even he had nodded in agreement after thinking it over.
And so, their purpose for coming here now was clear.
They weren't just going to plead for their punishment to be reconsidered.
They were also going to ask Ari about the conditions required to join the Student Council.
They parked in the designated area and stepped out with determined expressions, like men marching to war after leaving behind a wife, children, and a cat named Barry.
They climbed the stairs, and just before entering, IAM's eyes flicked to a particular name.
The receptionist looked up, her expression immediately sour, as if she had already seen enough of their faces for one lifetime. Clearly aware of why they were there, she rolled her eyes, picked up the phone beside her, and dialed an internal number. After a few seconds, the call connected.
Her attitude did a complete one-eighty.
In a voice suddenly sweet and almost reverent, she informed Ari of their request, nodding enthusiastically as if every word on the other end was sacred. From her tone alone, the boys could tell it was Ari.
"O-OK… okay… yes, mama— I mean, ma'am… ahem… understood!"
Hanging up, she let out a satisfied sigh and placed the phone back on its cradle. When she looked up, she found the boys staring at her. She stared right back, clicked her tongue, and jerked her head toward the stairs.
"Go on. She'll see you."
Reuel shot the receptionist a look as they headed for the elevator. Then he leaned toward the others and whispered loudly,
"What is up with her?! She wasn't this crazy the first time we met her, but now she literally doesn't care. She's treating us like actual trash… Is it because we're being made to clean the toilets? …It's because we're being made to clean the toilets, right? Right?"
No one answered, but the looks they exchanged said they were thinking the exact same thing. As the elevator doors slid shut, the receptionist continued to watch them, a faint hint of jealousy lingering in her expression.
With a soft ding, they arrived at the Student Council's break space.
It wasn't the typical cafeteria one might expect. The atmosphere was relaxed yet refined—more like a high-end student lounge with a restaurant's touch. Plush couches occupied the corners, low tables were surrounded by neatly arranged chairs, and shelves along the walls held board games and old card decks. The section they entered resembled a quiet bistro, with soft music playing in the background.
Once again, the group found themselves seated around a rectangular table. Ari sat at the head, her legs elegantly crossed, her expression calm and composed—like everything in the room, and everyone in it, rested in the palm of her hand.