After Devin led Bryan's group out of the administrative office, they ran into four figures approaching from the distance—one adult and three children.
As they drew closer, Bryan recognized Sarah and the other two girls who had gone to the girls' dormitory. But the woman leading them wasn't Miranda anymore. Instead, it was a reasonably attractive middle-aged woman in a loose-fitting long dress.
Devin's eyes lit up when he saw her. He strode forward eagerly and struck up a conversation. His enthusiasm made it obvious—he was interested in her.
From their exchange, Bryan learned the woman's name was Anne. Just as Devin managed the boys' dormitory, she oversaw all the girls' housing.
After Anne led the three girls into the administrative office, Devin didn't leave. He waited until they emerged, then walked alongside them.
Throughout the walk, Devin kept trying to chat with Anne. His demeanor was completely different from his stern, menacing persona earlier—like a different person entirely. Anne, meanwhile, maintained a cold expression, her face revealing nothing, though her eyes betrayed her impatience.
"So how'd it go? Did you get a room to yourself, or was someone already living there?"
Unlike the other children watching the adults' awkward dynamic with fascination, Bryan walked over to Sarah and asked quietly.
"I'm alone. No roommate." Seeing Bryan approach, Sarah looked at him with a hint of complaint in her voice. "I don't know who lived there before, but the wardrobe was stuffed with garbage. It was absolutely disgusting."
"Same here—my closet was full of junk too. But at least I found some useful stuff, so it wasn't a total waste. You doing okay? Not too tired?"
Hearing the concern in his voice, Sarah clearly appreciated it. Her eyes crinkled with a smile. "This is nothing. When Dad wasn't home, I always did the cleaning myself..."
Mentioning her father dimmed her smile slightly, but the old grief was gone.
Bryan noticed the subtle change and smiled with relief. He reached over to ruffle her hair, then took her hand and walked forward. Sarah had moved past her sorrow. All he needed to do now was support her.
On the western side of campus stood a spacious three-story cafeteria capable of seating thousands.
It was nearly noon, and soldiers and children alike were streaming toward the building. When Bryan's group entered and saw the masses of people moving about inside, they couldn't help but gasp. After spending so much time outside, seeing this many people in one place felt almost overwhelming.
The cafeteria was divided down the middle—separate areas for children and soldiers. Devin and Anne didn't bother explaining anything. They simply abandoned the children and headed toward the military section without a word.
The children stood there bewildered, watching people flow past them, instinctively clustering together.
Bryan's eye twitched at the sight. He glanced at Devin and Anne's retreating backs, then scanned his surroundings.
Taking the lead, he guided the children toward the serving windows. After all, whether by biological or mental age, he was the oldest. If he didn't step up, who would? He naturally took charge and got everyone in line.
Waiting in line was tedious. Bryan noticed that most of the children eating here were fifteen or younger. After watching for a while, he didn't spot a single older kid.
So he struck up a conversation with a boy ahead of him in line and gleaned quite a bit of information about the school.
First, the credits system: it functioned as currency within the school, used to exchange for non-essential items—though not weapons, ammunition, or controlled items like knives. Its purpose was similar to supply cards.
Credits were only needed for exchanges, though. Daily meals were free—just swipe your keycard.
As for how to earn credits, the boy admitted he didn't know. The entire school's population had only been brought in by the military about a week ago. While the credit system had been explained, most kids had already forgotten about it except for a few who paid attention.
Bryan wasn't surprised by this. He understood the credit system hadn't been implemented yet partly because students had only just arrived, and partly because they were still waiting for the reinforcement convoys from outside.
He also learned that children currently enrolled couldn't leave campus unless there were special circumstances—like a family member's death—and even then, they had to submit an application. Leaving without permission wasn't allowed.
If students wanted to contact family outside, there was a mailbox near the school entrance. Letters could be deposited there, and someone collected them daily for delivery.
Whether students would be able to leave campus in the future would apparently be determined after all the support convoys arrived.
The line moved steadily, and soon it was their turn. Bryan mimicked the person ahead of him, swiping his keycard on a sensor mounted to the side, then collected the tray placed before him.
While finding a seat, he glanced down at his food. Goodness—mostly meat, with just a pitiful amount of vegetables and some potatoes.
The children found an empty spot and sat down. In less than half an hour, they'd cleaned their plates and left the cafeteria.
As Bryan had expected, Devin and Anne were waiting outside. Seeing them emerge, the adults led them back to the dormitories. They had an hour for a midday rest, after which they'd attend classes and training.
Lying on his dormitory bed, Bryan's mind kept processing the information he'd gathered in the cafeteria.
Listening to the chatter and laughter drifting from other rooms, he somehow drifted off to sleep without realizing it. When he opened his eyes again, it was nearly one o'clock.
This time when they left the dorm, Devin and Anne didn't accompany them. They simply told the children to make their own way to the academic building, where someone would be there to guide them. Their job, apparently, was done.
Fortunately, with Bryan leading, the children didn't panic. They simply followed the stream of students leaving the dormitories and headed toward the classroom buildings.
They soon found themselves back at their morning arrival point. Miranda stood there quietly, occasionally greeting passing children who waved at her. She responded to each one warmly. Clearly, the students here had grown quite familiar with her.
"So, what do you think of this place? Do you like it here?"
The moment she spotted Bryan's group approaching, Miranda bent down slightly, her warm smile in place, and asked gently.
"It's great!"
"I love it!"
"..."
Seeing that welcoming smile, the initially nervous children instantly relaxed. Their stiffness melted away as they answered Miranda's question enthusiastically.
Bryan stood to the side, observing coldly. He had to admit a grudging admiration. That level of approachability—even if it was a mask—was something these young children couldn't possibly resist. It made it far easier for her to understand their situations and make accurate assessments.
They followed Miranda into the academic building. From outside, they hadn't noticed much, but the moment they stepped through the doors, a wall of noise hit them.
Every classroom on both sides was packed with children of similar ages. Some sat quietly reading, others whispered to each other, and still others ran around playing. The atmosphere was lively, to say the least.
Miranda first placed Dick, Allen, and the three younger children in first-floor classrooms. She didn't keep them together—instead, she deliberately separated everyone.
Bryan noticed that each first-floor classroom was about twice the size of a normal classroom, packed with several hundred students. It looked like two or three rooms had been combined by knocking down walls.
She then led the remaining group to the second floor. The classrooms here had been similarly expanded.
Bryan, Sarah, and the other girl were assigned to different rooms. As she left, Miranda said:
"This will be your classroom for now. Go in and find any empty seat. The school is still in its preparatory phase, so there are no teachers giving lessons yet. We've stocked the back of each classroom with books. If you're bored, feel free to read—but don't damage anything."
With that, she turned and walked away. Her heels clicked against the floor—tap, tap, tap—until she disappeared around the corner of the back stairwell.
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