Chapter 2: First Class

CHAPTER 2: FIRST CLASS

 

 

 

The Richardson Elite Academy.

Located on an artificial island in the Atlantic Ocean; between the continent of Africa and South America, with an estimated size of 8.7 km square.

The island has a population of 90,000 residents and 30,000 tourists—making a total of 120,000 people.

This Academic Institute is an all-rounder and all-inclusive citadel of learning for only the best and brightest. It is home to the most gifted and talented—not only academically, but in every field.

Sports, Arts, and unparalleled Skill to make the perfect representations of society—as well as the apex young people who will lead the world in the future.

Every year, millions try to get into this hallowed ground of perfection, but only a small number of three hundred and ninety are accepted into the entire school.

The Elite Academy cuts across all levels of education—from the elementary stage to college—and its curriculum is unique.

Alumni from this prestigious institute have revolutionalized the world, and it has hardly been ten years since its founding.

Such is the nature of The Richardson Elite Academy.

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"Hello, everyone. My name is Matthias Archibald. I'll be your homeroom teacher for this year." An ordinary greeting was given to everyone in the classroom by a fairly ordinary man.

There didn't seem to be anything special about the man—just a random person with a white t-shirt and black trousers. In fact, one might say he wasn't properly dressed as a teacher.

Still, his confident smile and handsome face made the best impression on the twenty-five students who watched him behind their desks.

Divided by five lines and five columns, with more than enough space separating each desk and table, the students were seated in an orderly fashion.

Each seat was made to be comfortable, as well as fixed on the floor. Each student was also assigned their respective position, preventing any form of dispute on the first day of school. Wherever anyone sat that day, they would be using it for the rest of their assigned year.

"This is Grade 9, Class B. But, if I'm to use High School Terms, you're all in your First Year. Once again, welcome." The man spoke informally, and his manner of speech was so relaxed.

One would expect a posh and linguistic teacher when thinking about a place of learning such as this. However, Mr. Archibald was very chill with everyone.

A few minutes had passed since he started interacting with the class, and he had passed a lot of information to them without stuttering or missing a beat. His casual smile and comfortable stance, minimized gestures, and ability to stay rooted in a single position, allowed him to convey his message without losing the attention of any of the students.

"He's good…" John mumbled, but then cautioned himself.

He had cultivated a habit of talking to himself ever since he was a kid. Perhaps it was because of his lack of proper interaction with companions, or the bizarre way he was brought up. Either way, it had become a part of him.

However, now that he was in a normal social environment, he had to stop. If not—

"They might think I'm a weirdo. Ah, I did it again." John struggled to keep up, but ultimately failed.

Well, it was probably fine.

His mumbles were barely audible at this point, so he wasn't disturbing anyone. Plus, the distance between everyone's seats was considerable—about a meter apart—so there was no chance of his minimal sound traveling far.

"Well, I'll be leaving you all now. You have ten minutes of break before your first period. I'd advise you to use that time wisely." The teacher's ambiguous words resonated with John as he was still trying to stop his habit.

And then—

"Have a lovely day."

—The teacher left.

Once he did, deathly silence enveloped the room.

What else would happen? Everyone here was a stranger. It was awkward and stifling, even though the ambiance was good enough to prevent any form of discomfort.

In this atmosphere, even John was stuck.

"Hmm…" He looked to his left and had a fleeting thought.

'This sucks…'

Contrary to his intentions, the atmosphere in the class was just too silent. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to decorum, but it was precisely because that was all he had ever known that the boy felt disappointed.

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Other than that, though, there was something else that disturbed John.

"I wanted to seat beside the window…"

John belonged to the third row and fourth column in the classroom—not exactly a special spot. He had already known that there was a very low chance that he would score a seat beside the window, but he still didn't like the outcome.

It didn't make matters better that the day wasn't going how he wanted.

"When you're dissatisfied, set a goal and work towards it." John recited a mantra and made his choice.

Rather than just sulking about it, he should simply take action. Perhaps this was his chance to make his debut and score social points.

If he was fortunate, he could become the Class Representative and attract so many people. Things would progress quite quickly from that point, but it wasn't a bad idea.

"Alright, let's—"

"Excuse me, everyone. Can I get your attention?" A pretty girl rose to her feet.

She was seated in the third row too… but close to the array of windows in the classroom. Frankly, John was a little jealous because of that.

She had dark brown hair, and her features were well-defined. If there was any appropriate term to use in defining her, it would be 'simply superb.'

Her neat uniform was in view, and her skirt swayed slightly when she addressed the audience that now had eyes on her—except one or two deviants.

"I'll get straight to the point. These ten minutes that we've been given will probably guide the direction of our lives here. I suggest we use the time we have wisely."

"Elaborate." A boy wearing glasses instantly responded.

He occupied the seat directly beside her, and his eyes were on a book rather than the girl. Yet, from his sharp reply, it showed he was clinging to her every word.

"First of all, I would like to ask a question… how many of us here graduated from this Academy's Middle School?"

As a whole body of academia, The Richardson Elite Academy had a Middle School of two years, and the graduating students were promoted to High School.

In that regard, a couple of students in the classroom had to be from the incoming set. However—

"Nobody, uh?"

—No one raised their hands. Not even one.

"It seems I was right…" Her tone suddenly sounded grim, and the sharp violet color in her eyes seemed to fade.

"Elaborate."

At this point, there was a level of impatience rising among the majority of students. Everyone waited to hear what the standing girl had to say, though a number of them were already figuring it out.

"Only twenty-five people graduated Middle School during the last session. And as First Years in High School, were divided into two equally split classes. That means one thing."

More people were getting closer to the reality of the situation.

Those who had recieved prior education in this elite academy, and managed to survive till graduation to High School, were most likely placed into Class A.

That left only the newcomers in Class B.

Once that reality dawned on the perceptive ones, the girl spoke up once more.

"Everyone... this class consists only of the new entrants in the First Year. Do you know what that means?"

Some people might have thought of it, but it was a hard pill to swallow.

Nevertheless, it needed to be said.

"From the very start... we've already started competing."

In Richardson Elite Academy, rivalry was everything. It was only natural that a place like this would foster hardcore competition.

There was just one problem, though.

"We're on the losing end!"

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