Chapter 107: Enemies
The door burst open with a loud slam that echoed through the chamber like a thunderclap.
The students froze mid-step, their blades paused mid-air, breaths held tight.
Even Nolan paused his movie halfway through a zombie headshot and turned toward the sudden noise with a raised brow.
A tall figure stepped into the room, wearing dark crimson robes with a bold golden trim, the unmistakable mark of a high-ranking instructor from the Outer Ring. His hair was styled too perfectly, his smile was too wide, and his footsteps too loud, almost deliberately disruptive.
"YO! Nolan, my man!" the newcomer called out, his voice booming through the quiet room, completely unbothered by the stunned silence. He waved with exaggerated gusto and strode in with the kind of confidence only someone truly obnoxious—or incredibly competent—could pull off.
Nolan groaned internally. Of course.
"Granfire," he muttered under his breath, already dreading what was to come.
Granfire casually tossed a rolled-up scroll toward Nolan’s chest. Nolan caught it with one hand and unfurled it slowly, already expecting drama.
"Came straight from the Department Head," Granfire said cheerfully, though there was a slight bite in his tone. "Figured I’d deliver it personally. You know how I love your... enthusiasm."
Nolan narrowed his eyes and began reading. As his gaze moved line by line, his brow furrowed, and he started mumbling under his breath.
"Silver Blade City Dance... evaluation... instructor candidate ranking... comparative instruction model... official mentorship designation... wait, what the hell? We’re competing now?"