"What do you an we get bunk spaces instead?!"
Compass guy— Malik— didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that we had just walked into the worst place possible to be in. We’d found the cabin at F-Division, which was pretty much a dormitory that didn’t spell itself out.
My first assessnt of the place was based on its proximity. From outside, I could already tell that it was wide enough to contain a hundred smaller apartnts— if the Bureau even intended to approve that many cripples.
But I guess I’d expected too much.
The place had been separated into two compartnts, evident by the two other doors that showed up after we walked in through the main entrance. The female compartnt was on the left side, while the male compartnt— a dirty blue door— was on the right side.
A dirty blue door was just enough signal to expect the worst possible outco. A dirty hallway, maybe a bunch of stupid guys running around half naked— but above all of that, I definitely hadn’t expected to see a bunk space room.
The place looked like so scene drawn out of the Squid Ga series. Large bunkers piled over each other, arranged in straight rows along the wide room. Bright white lights that could definitely steal six days of sleep if they’d decided to keep it on for that long.
And the students here were not raging fools. Most of them were settling in. Others were just on their beds, looking calm and comfortable about sleeping in bunk beds. And for a mont there, it appeared that I was the brat for being too picky.
"They really can’t be okay with this," I grunted, but moved my bag anyway. The right strategy was to head towards a bunker that looked mostly hidden from the others. If anything, I wasn’t here for social connections. "I just hope we can get this stupid exam over with as soon as possible."
"Why?" For so reason, Malik had chosen the bunker that was right next to mine. I had a feeling he was looking for a chat buddy. "You don’t like the camp?"
I looked at him. "Do you?"
He shrugged. The kind of shrug that ant more of a yes than a maybe.
"People like you are easily swindled," I replied, matter-of-factly. "They give you a room with impressive lighting, and what, you think you’re in Heaven?"
"It’s not that," Malik said, taking a folded blanket out of his bag. "All my friends wrote the exam last year. And after they told of the dangerous experiences they had, I kinda wanted to co here." He dropped the blanket on his mattress. "You know, a week away from school."
I had been listening to everything he was saying with a neural brain process— well, that was until he ntioned dangerous experiences.
"What dangerous experiences are you talking about though?" I bothered to ask.
He was about to say sothing when the door jamd itself open. A woman walked in. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the almost skeletal but fit physique that gave her away. A hunter. But she didn’t dress like one. She had a flowery t-shirt on, and a long skirt. And looking at her face, it was easy to tell that she was perhaps, in her early thirties.
"Hello, boys." She started. "I hope you guys are settling in well." Then just after she’d gathered enough of us around. "My na is Misha Reigns. And I’m a second-level hunter in the welfare departnt. And as you’re probably guessing, my job in the camp is to show you guys around the camp and ensure that you’re settling in properly."
"Is this all of us?" Soone among us asked. "I kinda expected more people."
"Yes, unfortunately. Unlike past years, the BHA was considerate to approve fifty F-rank students to participate in the trials." Misha explained, studying everyone’s faces. "I know, it might seem overwhelming that you guys are the fifty out of 2,999 students who were approved for the trials, but I assure you, it’s going to be fine."
Wait. 2,999 students?
So, that examination number wasn’t designated. I was really the last student in the participating crew. But then again, wasn’t I always the last in everything? It only made sense to consider it as normal.
Ms Misha— Misha had been yapping about so things that I really didn’t want to know about. A welco notice. Camp reforms. It was a whole lot of speech for a bunch of students who were bound to end up failing the upcoming exams.
, non-excluded.
"Lastly, there would be an enlightennt eting tomorrow. And this year, unlike any other year, the eting would be coordinated by the judges for the trials." She said that part out loud, then paused for a brief second, as if waiting for us to connect the dots. "The Apex Corps."
Everyone shocked murmured. And if I wasn’t— apparently— the only egoistic cripple in the room, maybe I would have murmured also. The Apex Corps were pretty much the most powerful group in the world, a bunch of transcendents— four of them— who’d for so reason had decided to co together to partner with the Bureau.
I’d read comic books about Apex Corps while I was younger, but sothing in had always hated heroes who printed themselves in hardcovers and sold themselves out. For a bunch of supposed lone wolves, they were doing a lot of group work, and it was easy to tell that they were only living to earn.
But then again, that was my problem. Not anyone else’s. Everyone loved the Corps, and that included forty nine cripples who were montarily, also anticipating eting them.
"We et tomorrow by 9am at the main campground. Try not to be later than that if you want to see their faces." Misha concluded, ignoring the continuous murmuring as she checked on her wristwatch. "By the way, dinner ti is 6pm. Breakfast, 8am. We don’t serve lunch in camp. So, try as best not to miss your als. The lunch servers are not really nice people. They won’t wait for you if you’re late."
And just like that, she’d drawn out the diet catalogue I’d never once considered planning for myself. al tis, and even worse, no mid-day als. And if this camp was really as empty as it looked, there were probably no snack shops, either.
I was about to ask her about the snack shops, but she’d already reached the door and walked out. That left only one option, to rigorously monitor ti and set alarms especially for al tis. Seriously, why was every the in this place worse than the last?
And speaking of ti, it was 5:55pm.
Apparently, these guys weren’t cripples to the core. Everyone had begun heading out to the cafeteria, possibly after a calculation of distance and the ti it actually took to get there. With a fast pace, that was roughly about ten minutes.
And again, the cafeteria was just another of the few buildings in the camp that didn’t exactly spell itself out. Before entry was an easily noticeable banner with a red border. The words ’THE CRIB’ were written on the banner. That raised questions, but I hadn’t bothered to ask. Not when thousands of students had been running in there with salivating lips.
Apparently, we had hungry bears among us also.
The sll of the place was different from the food they served. The place slled like roast, maybe chicken wing sauce and French fries. But the mont that one scoop of sticky porridge dropped in my bowl, I could swear I batted a wrong eye at the food server.
Not that she cared anyway. She was sweating seas from her hat to her chubby cheeks. If anything, she returned my wrong look, as if daring to question her. One word, and she looked ready to decline from any dinner that evening.
I considered the risk and moved on quietly.
The cafeteria was loud, way too loud. Considering the fact that there were about 3000 students who wanted to talk over a al. And even worse, every table had been occupied. Which ant that the option of eating alone had long disappeared ever since I walked in through those gates.
"Still contemplating?" Malik. He’d been leeching behind ever since, apparently, I was his new best buddy now. "We could sit right next to those hot girls over there."
He pointed at a table on the third row, where a bunch of girls had cooped up. They looked like they’d deliberately tried to raise their class above others. Sophisticated spoon handling. Forced laughter. Once every ten seconds, they’d scan the room, murmur amongst themselves, and laugh forcibly again.
"Help yourself," I said to him.
I had found Aria. She was sitting sowhere at the far end of the seventh row, with so brown-haired girl I had never seen before. When I approached them, she’d been too engrossed in their discussion that she almost didn’t notice . Maybe.
"Look who finally decided to make a friend of her sa rank," I said, placing my food tray on the table.
Both of them looked at .
"Oh, Kali is C-rank, actually," Aria said, then shifted to a jesting tone. "What about you, at the very least, you seem to be making friends."
It wasn’t until I followed her eyes that I realised that Malik was still standing behind , like so quiet shadow I couldn’t quite get rid of. He was waving a hand at Aria— oblivious to my own stare.
"Is he the one you talked about?" Kali’s voice was tender. The kind of softness that almost made forget the fact that they’d been gossiping about .
"Yep. He is."
The way Aria looked at when she said those words was suspicious, and what was even more suspicious was that Kali had the sa weird look on her face. Apparently, in just a few hours, Aria had already been setting up my reputation just fine.
"I won’t even ask what you said about ." I settled into a seat, glanced at Kali. "Whatever she says, don’t believe her, the hate is mutual."
"Wait." Malik did that brain click pose. "Isn’t Kali the Hindu goddess of destruction? I read the myth."
I didn’t know whether he was expecting sothing dramatic— an applause, maybe a bunch of shocked expressions plastered to our faces— but we gave him none of that.
"Ugh, my arm feels funny." Aria groaned, moving her arm back and forth. "Damn these stupid d nurses. I think she hit my vein."
"You went to the infirmary?" I asked.
"Yeah, didn’t you?" She looked at for a second or two, then with an aware expression. "Oh, that’s right. They won’t give the shot to cripples."
"What shot?"
"An ability dampener." She said. "They’re taking precautions to control ability usage in the camp."
My eyes widened. "An ability dampener?"
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