The next morning, Hillcrest Academy returned to what it knew best.
Near the canteen, voices rose again.
Keris stood with his hands in his pockets, relaxed, confident. Luther tried to walk past without drawing attention, his tray held tightly against his chest.
"Slow down," Keris said casually.
A shoulder bumped Luther from the side.
The tray tilted. Food spilled across the ground.
Laughter followed—not loud, not cruel. Familiar.
Luther froze.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then, from the upper floor of the principal's residence, a curtain shifted slightly.
Dr. Adrian Cole stood by the window.
Watching.
He didn't step out.
He didn't speak.
That silence spread faster than the laughter.
Someone kicked the fallen tray aside.
"Clean it properly," a voice said.
Luther's eyes darted upward again.
The window was still.
He knelt.
---
A few steps away, Eden stood near a bench.
Someone shoved past him, knocking his bag to the ground.
"Move," the boy muttered, irritated.
Eden bent down to pick it up.
A shoe pressed briefly against his fingers.
The pressure lasted just long enough to hurt.
Then it lifted.
No apology followed.
No one noticed.
Eden straightened slowly and moved aside, blending back into the crowd like he had never been there.
---
By afternoon, students drifted toward the gates in groups.
Lucas watched them go.
He knew he should stop them.
Instead, he told himself things needed to cool down first.
Once, he raised his voice halfway—then stopped.
The memory of the principal's silence lingered.
His hand dropped.
The gates remained open.
---
Inside the canteen, Raymond noticed a plate sitting untouched.
He replaced it with a warmer one.
A small habit. A harmless kindness.
Students noticed.
"Sir, mine's cold too."
Another slid his plate away deliberately.
Soon, plates were being swapped openly. Food was left untouched on purpose.
Someone laughed. "He won't say no."
Raymond moved faster, trying to keep control.
A plate slipped from a table and shattered on the floor.
No one apologized.
Raymond knelt and cleaned it himself.
---
In the academic block, Professor Harold Finch stepped into the corridor when raised voices caught his attention.
Two students had a junior pinned against the railing.
"That's enough," Finch said. "Go to class."
The students turned slowly.
One smiled.
"Sir," he said lightly, "you also take salary like others, right?"
Finch stiffened.
"So keep quiet," the boy continued. "Why get humiliated at this age?"
They walked away laughing.
Finch stood there, papers shaking slightly in his hands, before turning back toward the staff room.
---
By evening, the campus shifted again.
The Devil Trio entered.
Conversations died instantly.
Students stepped aside without being told. Heads lowered. Paths cleared.
Fear remembered them.
Leon Cross walked calmly, eyes scanning the crowd.
Ethan smiled faintly.
Marcus followed, silent.
Near the canteen, Leon paused.
"I heard the principal injured his shoulder," he said.
Ethan scoffed. "One fight and he's injured. Next time, hospital bed."
Marcus hummed softly.
A student nearby whispered, "Still sent all those men to hospital."
Leon turned.
"What did you say?"
Ethan struck the boy before he could answer.
The sound echoed.
No one intervened.
Marcus looked away.
Only for a moment.
---
Later, Luther locked himself inside a washroom.
He scrubbed his knees until they burned.
Dust clung stubbornly.
So did the memory of laughter.
He leaned his forehead against the door, breathing unevenly.
He thought of complaining.
Then he remembered the window.
The watching.
The silence.
He slid down slowly until he was sitting on the floor.
---
Inside the main building, Lucas carried a cup of coffee down the corridor.
A few students laughed loudly behind him.
"Watchman thinks he has authority now."
Lucas turned.
Dr. Adrian Cole stood there.
They looked at each other.
Ten seconds passed.
Adrian stepped forward, took the cup from Lucas's hand without a word, and walked back upstairs.
Lucas didn't move.
---
Inside the principal's residence, Adrian sat before the monitors.
His left shoulder throbbed steadily.
He ignored it.
Footage played.
Raymond changing plates.
Lucas opening gates.
Samuel walking past damaged benches.
Professors watching, silent.
Bullying didn't escalate.
It multiplied.
Adrian rewound certain clips again and again.
He wrote with his right hand.
Not names.
Patterns.
One paused frame caught his attention.
Eden.
Standing alone.
Unnoticed.
Adrian stared at it longer than the others.
---
Later, walking through the corridor, Adrian passed a group of students.
One spoke openly. "If he was strong, this wouldn't be happening."
Another laughed. "Should've stayed injured."
Adrian didn't stop.
He didn't respond.
That unsettled them.
---
That night, Hillcrest whispered its conclusions.
The principal was injured.
The Devils still ruled.
The staff was helpless.
Inside his room, Adrian set his pen down.
He looked at his right wrist—where a black thread once had been.
Nothing there now.
Tomorrow, Hillcrest would receive instructions.
Not speeches.
Not warnings.
Just consequences.
---
End of Chapter 4
---