CHAPTER 40: The Meeting of the Kings
"Where do you think you're going?"
The voice was like a bucket of ice water, sharp and commanding. I froze in the hallway and turned back. Luke was leaning against the doorframe of our classroom, his arms crossed over his chest, watching us with that cold, unreadable stare.
"We're going to visit Class A of the second year," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to coordinate with our allies before the break ends."
Luke pushed off the wall and started walking toward us. "Then I'm coming with you. I want to meet this leader, Irfan."
I felt my stomach do a slow roll. My eyes widened as I looked at him. "How... how did you know his name? We just found out ourselves."
Beside me, Heather nudged my arm, a knowing smirk on her face. "Jane, I know exactly what you're thinking right now."
"Then tell me," I hissed, leaning toward her. "How did he know about Irfan? We haven't even left the floor yet."
Zack stepped up beside me, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed on Luke's back. "Isn't it obvious, Jane? Like attracts like. Birds of a feather."
"He hangs out with him," Heather finished simply, echoing Zack's thought.
I looked over at Larry Rose, expecting him to be frantically taking notes on this new development, but he didn't look surprised at all. He just adjusted his glasses, looking like he had expected this collision of egos from the start.
The Descent
The walk down to the second-year floor felt like a funeral march. With Luke leading the way and Zack trailing behind like a silent shadow, the tension was thick enough to choke on. When we finally reached the corridor for Class A, the atmosphere shifted.
A group of students was already gathered in the hallway. At the center stood a tall, thin boy with pale skin that seemed almost translucent under the fluorescent lights. He watched us approach with a calm, analytical expression.
"I'm surprised," the boy said, his voice smooth and steady. "To see our seniors coming down a floor just to see us. Usually, we're the ones summoned."
Luke didn't hesitate. He stepped forward into the boy's personal space, radiating that familiar, suffocating authority. "I am the leader of Class C, third year. Luke."
Irfan didn't flinch. In fact, a small, ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Luke. I'm quite impressed that someone like you managed to become a leader. It takes a certain... reputation to hold that spot."
He extended a thin hand, his eyes locking onto Luke's. "I am Irfan. Leader of Class A, second year. I suppose we have a lot to discuss regarding these 'Superiors' of mine and your thirty-five-student problem."
Luke stepped forward, his grip firm as they shook hands. "The honor is mine, Irfan," Luke replied, his voice carrying that heavy, authoritative weight. "I've heard you run a tight ship. It's an honor to work with someone who understands the stakes of this tournament."
"The sentiment is shared," Irfan murmured, a small, polite smile playing on his lips. "We are ready to lend our strength to Class C."
While the two leaders exchanged formalities, my gaze drifted past Irfan's shoulder. Leaning against the lockers just a few feet away were two guys who didn't fit the "reformed" vibe Irfan was radiating. They were watching us with eyes that felt like they were measuring us for a casket. One was built like a tank with a jagged scar near his hairline, and the other had a sharp, calculating look that made my skin crawl.
"Who are they?" I whispered, leaning back toward Larry. "The two watching us like we're prey?"
Larry didn't even have to look twice; he was already sweating. "Keep your voice down, Jane," he hissed, adjusting his glasses. "Those aren't just regular students. The one on the left, the founder? That's Robert. And the guy next to him, the one who looks like he's memorizing your facial structure? That's Jugram."
"The Superiors," I breathed, remembering his warning.
"Exactly," Larry muttered. "They're shaking hands with Luke for now, but those two? They don't believe in 'honors.' They only believe in results. And right now, they're looking at us like we're the weakest link in their chain."
Zack didn't wait for the tension to settle. He shifted his weight, his green eyes fixed on the two guys by the lockers. "Jane, let's go," he said, his voice low but determined. "We need to have a talk with them."
My heart skipped a beat. I reached out, my fingers catching his sleeve to hold him back. "Wait, Zack. Look at them. It's maybe not a good idea to provoke them right now. Let Luke handle the formalities."
Zack turned his head slightly, giving me a look that was surprisingly calm. "Trust me, Jane. We can't let them sit there and size us up all day."
Before I could protest further, he started walking. I couldn't let him go alone, so I hurried to keep pace, my hand still tentatively hovering near his arm.
We approached Robert, who was sitting on a low bench, leaning back comfortably. He was laughing about something with Jugram—it sounded like a joke about a chemistry experiment gone wrong—but the moment Zack stepped into their space, the laughter died down into a sharp, observant silence.
Robert looked up, his gaze sweeping over Zack and then lingering on me for a second longer than I liked. He didn't look threatened; he looked entertained. With a lazy wave of his hand, he gestured to the empty space on the bench across from them.
"The third-year power couple, I assume?" Robert said, his voice smooth and tinged with a slight edge. "Please, sit. Don't just stand there like you're waiting for permission."
We sat, though I stayed on the very edge of the seat, my muscles coiled and ready to move.
Robert leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So. What is it? You didn't come over here to talk about the weather or my chemistry notes."
Zack met his stare head-on, his expression unreadable. "Well," Zack started, his voice steady. "I think you already know why we're here. We're going into a tournament where we have to be one unit. And I don't like wildcards behind my back."
Robert's grin widened, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth. "Straight to the point. I like that. Jugram, look—they have a backbone."
Jugram didn't smile; he just kept watching us with those cold, analytical eyes. The air between us felt heavy, like a storm was brewing just beneath the surface of their polite invitation.
Robert's laughter was short and sharp, like the sound of glass breaking. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his eyes shifting from Zack's face down to where our hands were joined on my lap. A knowing, almost taunting smirk played on his lips.
"Well, before we get into the business of winning," Robert said, his voice smooth as silk, "I wanted to ask you a few questions."
I felt a surge of defensiveness and leaned forward. "What kind of questions?"
Before I could say another word, Zack moved. He placed his large, warm hand firmly over my lap—a silent, protective gesture that told me he was taking the lead. I didn't pull away; instead, I placed my hand over his, our fingers interlocking in a public display of solidarity.
Zack's gaze was like flint as he stared Robert down. "Ask me," he said, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register.
Robert didn't look intimidated. If anything, he looked like he had just been handed a winning hand in a poker game. He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and malice.
"You're very protective of her, Zack. I respect that," Robert said, chuckling softly. Then, his expression sharpened, and he dropped the bombshell. "So, tell me... do you have any relationship with Victor?"
The air in the hallway seemed to vanish. The name Victor hung between us like a poisoned blade. I felt Zack's hand tighten against my leg, his muscles instantly turning to corded steel.
Robert watched our reaction with predatory delight, his head tilted to the side. He wasn't just asking out of curiosity; he was testing us. He knew about the hierarchy of the school, the shadows of the past, and exactly which buttons to press to see if the "Prince" of Class C would crack.
"Why would you ask that?" I managed to breathe, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Robert's grin only widened. "Because in a war like this, knowing who your friends—and their enemies—are is the most important chemistry there is."
Zack didn't blink. The tension in his jaw was the only sign that the question had landed, but his voice was steady. "Yeah," he said, his tone clipped and cold. "We have a history. Is that a problem?"
Robert's eyes lit up, a sharp, calculating gleam taking over. Without a second of hesitation, he slapped his hand against his knee. "Then that's a deal. We, the SUPERIORS, will help you. We'll bring our specialists, our strategy, everything. But in exchange..."
He trailed off, his gaze shifting slowly from Zack to me. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hum as he looked me dead in the eyes. "Tell me about—"
He was cut off mid-sentence. Robert's head snapped toward the end of the hallway, his expression shifting instantly. It wasn't anger that crossed his face, but something more complex—a mixture of deep-seated recognition and a strange, guarded alertness.
I followed his gaze and felt the blood drain from my face.
Victor.
He was coming down the stairs, his presence alone seemly to darken the corridor. He didn't look at us yet, but the air felt heavier with every step he took.
Robert stood up abruptly, brushing off his trousers as if the conversation had never happened. Jugram rose silently beside him, his face an unreadable mask.
"Change of plans," Robert said, his eyes still fixed on Victor's approaching figure. He looked back at Zack and gave a sharp, jagged nod. "We're going to the cafe. Consider the deal made, Zack. We're in."
"Wait, Robert—" I started, but they were already moving.
"See you around, Jane," Robert called over his shoulder, his voice light despite the heavy atmosphere.
He and Jugram walked past Victor without a word, a strange, silent understanding passing between them as they exited toward the cafe. Zack's hand was still over mine, his grip tight, his eyes locked on Victor. The deal was done, but as Victor stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked directly at us, it felt less like we had gained allies and more like we had just invited a different kind of monster to the table.
Zack watched the back of Robert's head as he disappeared around the corner, his hand finally relaxing its grip on my lap, though the tension in his shoulders remained.
"Maybe we formed the wrong alliance," Zack muttered, his voice barely audible over the distant chatter of the hallway.
I looked at him, surprised by the sudden doubt. "What do you mean?"
"I mean he's the type to bet on the winning horse, Jane. The second the wind blows in a different direction, he'd betray us without blinking," Zack said, his green eyes dark with suspicion.
I thought about the way Robert's face had shifted when he saw Victor. "Yeah, maybe... but the way he looked at Victor was different. It wasn't just fear or rivalry. It was something else."
Zack turned to me, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean, different?"
"Yeah, he is different."
The voice came from behind us, smooth and unexpected. Both Zack and I nearly jumped out of our skins, spinning around to see a guy standing there who we hadn't noticed before. He was leaning against a pillar, watching us with a calm, almost bored expression.
"Who are you?" Zack demanded, his hand instinctively shifting as if to shield me.
The guy pushed off the pillar and took a step forward. He had a quiet intensity about him, the kind that didn't need to shout to be heard. "I'm Anto," he said, giving a small, polite nod. "One of the Superiors."
I breathed out a sigh I didn't know I was holding. Another one.
"You were eavesdropping?" I asked, my heart still hammering.
Anto shrugged. "Hard not to in these halls. But you're worrying about the wrong things. Robert might be a lot of things—arrogant, manipulative, obsessed with hierarchy—but he's not stupid. He's not stupid enough to betray an alliance that gives him what he wants."
He looked toward the stairs where Victor had just been. "And as for the way he looks at Victor... let's just say they have a history that predates this tournament. Robert doesn't want to join Victor. He wants to surpass him. That makes him the most loyal ally you could ask for—as long as your interests align."
Anto let out a soft, cryptic whistle, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched our bewildered expressions. "Nah," he said, his voice dropping to a casual, almost teasing tone. "It's simpler than that. He's in love with Victor."
The words hit like a physical weight. My jaw practically dropped, and beside me, I felt Zack stiffen in pure, unadulterated shock. "What?" Zack managed, his voice flat with disbelief. "You're kidding."
"Wait, so that rumor is true?"
We both jumped as Larry Rose suddenly materialized from behind a nearby locker, his pen hovering over his notebook with frantic energy. He looked like he'd just discovered the secret to the universe. "I've heard whispers in the library, but I thought it was just Class A drama!"
Anto chuckled, though his eyes remained guarded. He started to back away, heading toward the same path the other Superiors had taken. "Is it true? No. But maybe," he added with a wink, leaving the answer hanging in the air like a puzzle.
He gave a mock salute, his expression smoothing back into that calm, detached mask. "Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet the legendary Class C power couple. Try not to overthink it too much. Robert's heart is his own business—his head, however, is all yours for the tournament."
And with that, Anto turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the three of us standing in the hallway in stunned silence.
"In love with Victor?" I whispered, looking at Zack. "If that's true, this alliance just got ten times more complicated."
Zack shook his head, his hand finding mine and squeezing it tightly. "I don't care who he's in love with," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the cafe. "As long as he doesn't let those feelings get us killed on Saturday."
Larry was already scribbling furiously. "Robert, Victor, and a 'maybe' romance... Oh, the second years are going to be the death of us."