By the time the palace clock crept past noon, Nevermore had transformed.
Morning formality gave way to a restless buzz that refused to settle. Jackets were loosened. Shoes were kicked off under tables. The polished calm of early speeches cracked into something louder, messier, more honest. This was the hour where people stopped pretending they were here for education and started admitting they were here to be seen.
XH leaned back against one of the marble pillars near the banquet area, eyes half open, body fully aware of how little sleep he had stolen from the night. His head still hummed with echoes of keyboard clicks, cooldown timers, and the frustration of losing a match he thought they had no business losing.
JP, on the other hand, looked alive.
Too alive.
He hovered near the barbecue trays, plate stacked recklessly, fingers already greasy. His movements were a little too loose, his laughter just a beat too loud.
TZ leaned in close. "How much did you take."
JP grinned. "Enough."
"That's not an answer."
JP tapped the side of his jacket, where a flask bulged slightly. "This palace needed better spirits."
NS sighed. "That is literally my father's private collection."
JP raised a finger. "Was."
XH closed his eyes briefly. "Please tell me you are not drinking that on an empty stomach."
JP took a sip anyway. "Too late."
Across the hall, Kitty accepted a small plate from Jihye, nodding politely. She ate slowly, more out of obligation than hunger. Her attention drifted often, pulled by motion and sound. Every laugh. Every raised voice. Every moment June moved through the crowd like she belonged at the center of it.
June did not look nervous.
That worried Kitty more than anything.
June stood near the registration desk with NC and Anna, reviewing schedules on her phone. She had the posture of someone who had already rehearsed this day in her head a hundred times. When a group of engineering students passed by, June's gaze lifted calmly, unflinching.
KM noticed.
He smiled, thin and deliberate.
"Confident," he muttered to Shinso. "Let's see how long that lasts."
At exactly two o'clock, the computing majors took the stage.
The lights dimmed slightly. Screens flickered on. The emcee announced the segment with forced enthusiasm.
"Next up, the computing faculty talent exhibition."
A cheer rose, uneven but curious.
XH straightened a little. This was where things usually went wrong or surprisingly right.
The challenge was simple, at least on paper. A simulated public domain server breach, followed by full recovery and security patching. Time counted. Precision mattered.
The computing team moved fast.
Fingers flew across keyboards projected onto massive screens. Code cascaded downward in tight, efficient lines. The crowd leaned forward despite themselves.
NS watched intently. "They're good."
"They always are," XH replied.
The timer ticked.
Three minutes in, the breach was complete.
Five minutes later, the system was restored, reinforced, and sealed.
The room erupted.
Applause broke out. Whistles. Even reluctant nods from rival majors.
Kitty found herself clapping too, impressed despite her indifference toward coding. She glanced at June.
June clapped politely, but her focus was already elsewhere.
Momentum mattered.
At three o'clock, the business majors took the stage.
The shift was immediate.
Confidence replaced competence.
Slides flashed. Buzzwords spilled. Promises soared without gravity.
JP snorted loudly from the back. "They're pitching coins again."
TZ muttered, "I hate this part."
The presentation turned into a promotional monologue for a questionable cryptocurrency venture. Charts looked impressive until someone in the crowd shouted, "That's a rug pull."
Laughter spread.
Another voice yelled, "Show us real numbers."
Boos followed.
Someone tossed a half eaten skewer toward the stage. It landed short, skidding across the floor.
The emcee struggled to regain control.
The business team tried to recover, voices rising, hands gesturing wider.
It only made it worse.
Kitty glanced toward the engineering section. HTN leaned back with a satisfied smirk. Thoon whispered something to SRM, both laughing behind their hands.
June felt heat rise in her chest.
Not because of the business majors.
Because she saw how easily crowds turned.
At four o'clock, King Selection registration officially closed.
Names were finalized.
Cameras began to move more deliberately now, sweeping faces, catching reactions.
JP stumbled slightly as he stood, TZ grabbing his arm.
"You're not walking on stage like that."
"I'm fine."
"You're smiling like an idiot."
JP smiled wider. "That's my brand."
At five o'clock, Queen Selection registration closed.
Late entries were still accepted, but the list was nearly set.
Kitty's name sat near the top.
June's just below.
SRM, HTN, Thoon, and several others filled the rest.
The palace felt tighter now. Like the air itself had decided to watch.
By six, the headmaster took the stage.
His voice carried authority without effort.
He spoke about legacy. About unity. About how the university stood taller when its students challenged each other without tearing each other apart.
XH listened, half focused.
JP leaned closer, breath warm with whiskey. "He loves this stuff."
"He believes it," NS said quietly.
That mattered.
The headmaster continued speaking.
His voice was steady, practiced, the kind that carried across marble halls without needing to raise itself. He talked about unity again. About standards. About how this university was not just a place to pass through, but a place that tested character.
JP snorted.
Not quietly.
TZ's head snapped toward him. "Hey."
JP leaned forward, elbows on his knees, flask warm in his palm. "You hear this guy."
XH did not turn yet. He already knew the tone in JP's voice. It was the same one that came out right before things got stupid.
"Every year," JP muttered, "same speech. Same words. Same promise of futures and values and discipline."
He took another swallow, slower this time.
"And then what," he continued. "We go back to fighting for scraps like dogs while they smile from the balcony."
NS lowered his voice. "JP. Not here."
JP laughed softly. "Why not here. This place loves honesty, right."
TZ reached for the flask. JP pulled it away.
"No. I'm not drunk," JP said, eyes sharp now. "I'm just done pretending."
Onstage, the headmaster gestured broadly, mentioning sacrifice, commitment, and how the students were expected to rise above impulse.
JP leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"Bullshit," he said.
XH turned this time. "JP."
"What," JP shot back. "You don't think so too."
XH did not answer. That silence only fueled him.
"You know what gets me," JP said, voice lowering, dangerous now. "They love saying our names when we win. Love it. But when we fall short, suddenly it's 'personal responsibility.'"
TZ clenched his jaw. "You're going to get us kicked out."
JP smirked. "Let him call my name."
NS froze. "What."
"I mean it," JP said, pointing loosely toward the stage. "If he calls my name up there. Right now. I'll go up."
"You'll go up and do what," TZ demanded.
JP's grin was crooked. Unstable. "Ask him which one of us he's really proud of."
XH leaned closer. "JP. Sit down."
JP looked at him then.
Really looked.
"You think I'm joking," JP said. "I'm not. I've had enough of men who talk like saints and move like Shits."
The headmaster's voice rose slightly, emphasizing responsibility, expectation, legacy.
JP scoffed again. "Legacy my ass."
TZ grabbed JP's shoulder hard. "You are drunk."
"Half," JP corrected. "And half pissed."
NS exhaled slowly. "You're going to ruin today."
JP's gaze flicked across the hall.
Past the cameras.
Past the teachers.
Past the students watching with wide eyes.
His eyes landed briefly on Kitty. Then June. Then back to the stage.
"I won't ruin it," he said quietly. "I just won't worship it."
XH watched the headmaster speak, then watched JP, and for the first time felt something shift uncomfortably in his chest.
This was not rebellion.
This was disillusionment.
The kind that did not shout.
The kind that waited.
Onstage, the headmaster paused, scanning the hall as if sensing the undercurrent he could not name.
JP leaned forward again, whispering, almost to himself.
"Call my name," he said. "I F ----g dare you."
The lights burned bright.
The crowd listened.
And somewhere beneath the polished speeches and applause-ready smiles, something restless stirred, waiting for the day to stop being ceremonial and start being honest.
End of Chapter One Hundred Nineteen