Athanasia: My Hacker System

"Today, we are going to speak about something of grave importance. So stop dazing and focus on what I’m going to say."

’And here comes another hypnotic class,’ John inwardly sighed, leaning back and letting his eyes glaze over as the teacher began. ’I’d better use this time to refine the plan. I have more important things to think about than falling into a trance and yawning through this speech.’

Yet against his low expectations, today’s class was destined to be more fun than usual. The teacher, who usually seemed content to let the room drift into a coma, suddenly straightened his posture. His eyes, normally dull, flickered with a strange energy.

"As you know," he began, his voice projecting across the hall with unusual clarity, "the five who returned were once the heroes of the first-year class. They won the competition over two years ago, led by the Class President, John Mirage. But since their sudden absence, the class selected someone else to lead. And today we need to see which one of the two will continue holding the throne..."

"I’m sorry to interrupt, teacher," Alfred suddenly raised a hand and a voice, his tone dripping with the familiar arrogance that two years hadn’t managed to erode.

"We already ran the test to select our Class President at the start of the year. Bernard already has it, and he did brilliantly last year by leading us to crush the first-year students and win the competition..."

"As if there is any glory in beating someone weaker than you," Ricky snorted. The remark was sharp and low, but in the quiet of the classroom, it landed like a thunderclap. For a moment there, a glaring exchange happened between the two, the air crackling with the friction of old ties turned into bitter rivalry.

"Silence," the teacher glared fiercer than the two combined, warning them from going any deeper than that. Then his gaze landed on John. "It’s not up to any of you to decide this. This order came directly from the Headmaster."

’The old man wants to see my true powers?’ John inwardly sneered. He could already see through the thin veil of the Headmaster’s intentions. By arranging this, it wasn’t just about settling a dispute; the Headmaster wanted to see how far he had grown.

When he came back to the academy, John had already considered the issue of the Class President position. He didn’t need to ask to know someone else was leading the class; nature abhorred a vacuum, especially in a military hierarchy.

And yet, he didn’t intend to snatch this title back. In the first place, he had zero interest in the bureaucratic headache of being Class President. If anything, he needed to lie low, bide his time, and spend his efforts on the plan and the next tricky steps.

After all, the early steps were always the hardest part in any plan.

Yet, before he could say anything to end this clash before it began, the teacher added another log to the fire:

"And the same goes for the vice-president seat. So we’ll have a match between Cissel and Alfred over that position in addition to John and Bernard’s match."

"As if some random girl, a relic from the past, can compete against me, hehehe!" Alfred chuckled, leaning back in his seat. Years had passed, and yet Alfred’s nature remained stagnant. Hearing this drove a cold wave of rage into John’s blood and through Cissel’s veins. It rippled through the spirits of all five friends.

Since they had stepped into the pocket trial, they had learned how to welcome challenges head-on and crush them with absolute brutality. They exchanged silent glances, a wordless communication honed in the trenches of the apocalypse, before nodding to each other at the same time.

"Alfred, one more word and I swear I’ll announce your loss before the fight even starts," the teacher snapped, clearly fed up with the youth’s posturing. Alfred, sensing the genuine threat in the teacher’s voice, finally shut his mouth, though his smirk remained.

John ignored all this and activated his Frame Recognition, scanning the classroom for the first time since their return.

’Oho, we have a few surprises here!’

The last time John had checked this class during their first year, he hadn’t found anyone with unlocked attributes except for Ricky and Cissel. He still recalled that moment vividly; it was the first spark that had attracted his attention toward those two.

But now? Fourteen different students in the room already had unlocked attributes. Seeing this made John feel as if unlocking one’s hidden potential had become as common as cabbage on the streets.

Adding the five of them, the third-year class now boasted nineteen students with unlocked attributes. John was startled at first, then he began to process this from a different angle.

’I know it’s not that easy to secure the Miraculous Drug,’ he inwardly thought while following the teacher toward the fighting building.

’Only Paragons can provide that kind of resource. And even if a dark trade has developed, the prices would be astronomical. It doesn’t make sense for any family to spend a fortune on third-year academy youngsters unless they are very rich, or very deeply involved in the affairs of the Paragons...’

John mentally marked all fourteen as potential enemies. This was a perfect filtering mechanism, a way to identify the students who were mostly affiliated with Paragon factions, before he even had to dig into their background files.

"John, look, we are back to the old big competition arena!"

As John was lost in his thoughts, entertaining the idea of doing a second hack to the student files or simply asking Nikolas to bring him the files later. He missed the transition of their surroundings.

The teacher hadn’t led them toward the standard fighting building. Instead, he had led them outside, toward a massive tent that looked exactly like the one where they had competed against the year two team on its grand stage over two years ago.