Chapter 157 - 156: Darker Side Of The World
Soon, the elevator reached the uppermost floor with a soft chime. Exhaling quietly, Rex straightened his posture and stepped out. The hallway was quiet, lined with polished floors and high ceilings, the kind of place that carried authority in its silence. At the end stood a wide door with a gleaming plaque that read Vice Chancellor in bold, formal lettering.
He stopped in front of it, took a slow breath to steady himself, and then knocked—firmly, but not too loud.
A pause followed, brief but weighted. Then, from within, a calm, composed voice replied with authority, "Come in."
"Here goes nothing." With a cheerful, sunny smile, he pushed open the door.
As he stepped into the office, the familiar scent of aged wood and freshly printed paper filled his nose. The first thing his gaze naturally went to was Uncle Johnson, seated behind a heavy oak desk. Golden sunlight spilled into the room through the tall windows behind him, casting soft rays across the polished floor. There he was—John Johnson, Vice Chancellor of Student Affairs—head buried in a stack of papers, flipping through files with his usual focused frown.
He didn’t look up, didn’t say a word, almost like he already knew who was walking in.
He didn’t mind, he already knew the personality of Uncle Johnson, he is what you’d call a tsundere, hard on outside and soft on inside. So, without waiting for acknowledgment, Rex walked in and unceremoniously sank into the soft, plush chair opposite the desk. Once seated, he let his eyes wander around the room. It hadn’t changed one bit.
The tall walls were still lined with rich mahogany shelves, filled from end to end with academic journals, dense leadership books, and a few modestly framed awards. No over-the-top décor, no flashy embellishments—just a meticulously organized workspace. It was spacious yet carried an intimate calm, the kind of place that demanded quiet respect. It exuded refinement, authority, and a sense of discipline that couldn’t be seen, but definitely felt.
After a few long minutes of silence—broken only by the scratching of pen on paper—Uncle Johnson finally set the last document aside with a soft thud. He rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly, the weariness in his expression betraying just how much had been weighing on him.