Xavier walked into the academy, and the mont he stepped in, the air shifted.
Eyes turned. Whispers spread like static. So tried to act subtle, others didn’t even bother hiding the way they stared. A few had their phones half-raised, probably hoping to catch a candid shot before he noticed. As if his glasses hadn’t already scanned them all in under a second.
He didn’t react. Didn’t need to.
He moved through the hallway like a storm that refused to make noise. Calm, silent... but heavy. So stepped aside on instinct. The smart ones anyway.
Inside the class, he didn’t even glance at the teacher. First thing—his eyes scanned the room. Not with his own sight. His glasses handled it, flicking through each student’s face like swiping files.
No Maximillian.
Xavier walked out.
Next class—empty.
Next—still no sign.
By the fourth try, he finally spotted him.
History class. Back row. Trying to stay small. As soon as Maximillian’s eyes t Xavier’s, his spine straightened like soone had jamd an iron rod through it. Then he imdiately slouched, like hiding could save him now.
Xavier walked in, no rush. Sat beside him like it was just another regular day.
Maximillian blinked once. Then twice. Then stood up and switched seats.
Xavier followed. Sat beside him again.
Maximillian switched again.
Xavier moved too.
After the third ti, Maximillian practically bolted up and pointed at him like a desperate little rat. "Professor, he’s disturbing !"
Xavier tilted his head, voice calm. "I’m just helping him catch up. He was suspended, after all."
The professor didn’t even look up. Either he didn’t care, or he didn’t want to get involved.
Maximillian looked like soone had just flushed his last hope. He stared at the professor for a second longer, lips twitching, then slumped back in his seat like his soul had left early.
Five minutes later, he left the class.
Xavier followed.
No rest. No break. No rcy.
Every class Maximillian entered, Xavier followed. Sat beside him. Didn’t touch him. Didn’t even say much. Just enough to let him know he wasn’t going anywhere.
It was psychological warfare, and Xavier didn’t even need to lift a finger.
Maximillian tried skipping to different floors. Different departnts. Didn’t matter.
Xavier always found him.
Lunch break was the only ti Xavier backed off. Not because of Maximillian. That hour was reserved for Oliver, his best friend—second-year, total bro, and the only one Xavier actually chilled with at school.
After that, the hunt resud.
Even in sports class, Xavier joined whatever ga Maximillian was in. Sa ga, opposite teams. And every single ti—he crushed him. No struggle. No challenge. Just pure domination.
By the end of the day, Maximillian looked like he’d lived through a war. And lost.
Everyone went ho.
Xavier was just about to leave too, until his glasses pinged.
[System Notification]
New Quest: Talk with Ethan in the Casino.
Xavier’s lips curled. Of course.
He hopped onto his bike, kicked it alive with a smooth twist, and rode out—heading straight for the best casino in Astraeus City. Neon lights. Velvet floors. Dirty money. Fake smiles. And sowhere in the middle of all that—
Ethan.
Hopefully.
Xavier didn’t show up at the casino looking like Xavier.
On the way, he’d already changed — suit blacker than lies, sleek glasses swapped with tinted gold fras, and a loose white shirt barely buttoned, collar popped like he didn’t give a damn. Hair pushed back.
Even the guards didn’t blink when he walked in. His clothes scread old money, and his presence leaked so much raw confidence that people assud he belonged here.
Sure, it was his first ti in a casino. But nobody could tell.
The place was packed — smoke trails in the air, chips clattering, so poor bastards screaming in joy, others groaning like they just bet their souls away. Neon lights, spinning wheels, half-dressed servers with fake smiles, and music that blended into the chaos.
Xavier slid into an empty chair like he owned it. Sat back, and observed.
Ten minutes later, he was already bored.
Still no Ethan.
So he stood. Wandered.
His eyes didn’t search — his glasses did. Scanning faces, filtering voices, syncing heat signatures. He just had to keep walking, slow and easy, like he was window shopping.
But no sign of Ethan.
Xavier clicked his tongue.
"Fine. Let’s make so money."
He headed to the nearest ga table. Roulette. Sat down like gravity didn’t apply to him. Dropped a fat one-million credit chip on the table — the max his transaction limit allowed.
Players beside him flinched.
Dealer raised an eyebrow.
He smiled.
His telekinesis ability had been maxed out for days. Full charge. Level 10. And all thanks to the daily "workout" sessions with Seraphina. The pill’s side effect was still nonexistent — because he kept draining it the old-fashioned way.
Her bed, her kitchen counter, her damn restaurant’s locked storage room — not a single surface in her life was safe anymore. They’d made sure of that.
And now? That power was being put to better use.
Xavier let the first round slide — on purpose.
The second round, he tweaked the ball’s montum mid-spin. Just a touch. Win.
Third round, did it again. Win.
Fourth, faked a loss. Fifth, win. Then win. Then win again.
Three hours passed like smoke, and by the ti he stood up?
He’d turned his single million into ten.
No one noticed a thing.
Not the caras.
Not the staff.
Not the pit bosses.
Because Xavier didn’t overdo it. He didn’t win everything. Just enough to be "lucky." Enough to make people whisper. Not enough to make them call security.
He tucked the card into his inner coat pocket, leaned back, and glanced around again.
Still no Ethan.
But he had all night.
And now? He was loaded. Confident. And patient.
Ethan would co.
Or he’d regret not showing up.
If Xavier wanted, he could make more money, but he couldn’t let them kick him out before he t Ethan. He had to complete the quest after all.
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