050 Detention - Part 1 - Mirai’s POV

  For about five seconds, we basked in the glow of victory.

  And then the door exploded.

  I barely had time to process the noise before Gwen stormed in, looking furious. But here was the more concerning part—she was only wearing a comically oversized shirt that barely reached her thighs.

  …Where the hell was the rest of her uniform?

  I blinked. Mark, standing beside me, also blinked. Though he didn’t look that surprised.

  Karl, who had just come to terms with our win, squinted and asked the real question. “Uh. Why are you dressed like that?”

  Gwen ignored him, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder like she wasn’t half-naked in front of a bunch of people. She was followed by a glasses-wearing senior and a group of second-years, all looking extremely pissed off.

  Oh.

  Oh no.

  Mark let out a slow breath beside me. “Welp. That’s not good.”

  I gulped. “W-why are they here?”

  “I dunno,” Mark said dryly. “Maybe because we just knocked out there favorite Professor and they’d rather that not be a thing?”

  “Shit,” Karl swore under his breath. “This is family business, fuck you lot!”

  Then, before we could react, one of the second-years fired something.

  A bolt of electricity shot across the room, striking Carl Brandt’s unconscious body.

  The moment it hit, I knew we were fucked.

  Carl’s body twitched violently. His eyes snapped open—but they weren’t focused, they weren’t human. There was something wrong about the way he moved, like a predator that had just been rudely woken from its slumber. His ESP flared in an instant, the sheer heat of it warping the air around us.

  I choked on my next breath.

  Mark muttered, “Oh, that’s not good.”

  Karl took a step back, eyes wide. “You absolute morons—”

  Carl moved.

  I didn’t even see him do it. One moment, he was on the ground. The next, he had warped in front of us.

  I barely had time to scream before his fist slammed into Karl’s gut.

  WHAM!

  Karl’s body caved inward as he was launched backward.

  “Karl!” I shouted.

  Carl didn’t stop.

  Mark barely managed to dodge as the second-years joined in, coming at us like a coordinated strike force. One of them swept my legs, and before I could recover, another drove a knee into my stomach.

  I gasped as the air was forcibly expelled from my lungs.

  I hit the floor hard, rolling to the side just in time to avoid another attack. But the moment I tried to get up, someone grabbed me by the hair and yanked me upright.

  “Ah—!”

  A punch connected with my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. I struggled, but it was overwhelming. There were too many of them. My body was already too exhausted from the fight with Carl earlier.

  Pain pulsed through my body as I struggled to stand. We had lost. It wasn’t even close.

  To be fair, they had the numbers.

  Mark was pinned under Carl’s knee, Karl was groaning somewhere in a pile of debris, and I was barely keeping myself upright as a second-year twisted my arm behind my back.

  Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse—

  “YOU INDECENT, PERVERTED, DEGENERATE MANWHORE!”

  Gwen’s voice practically shook the room.

  Everyone—including the second-years—paused for a moment to look at her. She was standing over Mark, her oversized shirt billowing dramatically as she stomped toward him with enough rage to power a small city.

  Mark, still pinned by Carl, managed a dry cough. “...Look, if this is about the shirt thing, I can explain—”

  “DIE.”

  Gwen launched herself at Mark.

  It wasn’t even an attack—it was a frenzied attempt at murder. Her fists came down like a hammer, aiming straight for Mark’s face. He barely turned his head in time to avoid getting his nose flattened against the floor.

  Carl, still kneeling over Mark, let out a long, exasperated sigh.

  With one fluid motion, Carl caught Gwen by the wrist mid-swing and yanked her back.

  “Enough.” His voice was low and commanding.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Gwen thrashed violently, still screaming. “LET ME GO! HE’S A PERVERT! A CRIMINAL! A DISGRACE TO THE MALE SPECIES! HE DESERVES TO BE PUT SIX FEET UNDER THE GROUND—”

  Mark, ever the diplomat, managed to gasp out, “Technically, if you buried me standing up, it’d only be like—”

  “SHUT UP.” Gwen jerked against Carl’s grip, but he held firm.

  Carl rubbed his temple, clearly losing patience. “You can kill each other later. For now, we need to have a talk.”

  Gwen scowled. “What is there to talk about? That degenerate stripped me and left me half-naked in the halls!”

  One of the second-years whistled.

  As for me… I was like… “Damn, Mark, didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “It’s not what it sounds like!” Mark protested.

  I might’ve believed him if he wasn’t Mark. And yes, I’d trust him a hundred times over compared to Karl, but considering Mark’s unique upbringing, I could understand the craziness he was capable of.

  Gwen spat at the ground, still seething. “The only reason I’m not strangling you is because I’d rather not get kicked out of the Academy for murder.”

  Mark wheezed. “Th-that’s so reasonable of you…”

  While Carl continued mediating between Mark and Gwen’s murder attempt, I felt a presence approach me.

  I turned my head just as a tall, senior girl stepped forward. She was elegant, with long, flowing dark hair and a pair of piercing violet eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Her voice was smooth, almost musical. Against my better judgment, I met her gaze.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  And then—

  The world tilted.

  My eyelids grew heavy. My body swayed.

  I barely had time to process what was happening before I collapsed.

  Everything faded to black.

  I woke up to white walls, white floors, and white ceilings.

  For a brief moment, I panicked—Was I dead?

  Then, I turned my head to the side and saw Mark staring blankly at the ceiling. On my other side, Karl was slumped forward, head resting on his arms, lightly snoring.

  Mark, noticing I was awake, glanced at me and said, “Detention.”

  Ah. That was self-explanatory.

  I rubbed my temples, feeling a dull ache throbbing through my skull. “Are we still in White Tiger, or did they drag us back to Black Tortoise?”

  Mark shrugged. “No clue.”

  I was about to ask another question when I noticed something in the corner of the room.

  A familiar moss-head sat there, lounging on one of the chairs like he had all the time in the world. His green hair was as messy as ever, and his ever-present grin made my exhaustion worse.

  “Greg?” I blurted.

  “Yo,” Greg waved lazily. “What are you in for?”

  At that moment, Karl let out a loud yawn and stretched, cracking his knuckles. “We beat the shit out of my dad,” he said, completely casual about it.

  Mark corrected him, “Technically, Mirai clocked him out of sheer luck, and then the seniors came and beat our asses.”

  Karl clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah, details.”

  I turned back to Greg. “Okay, but seriously, what did you do?”

  Greg smiled like we’d just asked him what his favorite food was. “Tried to assassinate the Archon.”

  We all stared at him.

  Like he was either an absolute idiot or just completely insane.

  …Wait, this was Greg Green we were talking about.

  He was probably both.

  Karl leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s next?”

  Before anyone could answer, the door slammed open with a bang.

  I flinched. A weird sense of déjà vu washed over me. The last time someone kicked a door open like that, it had been Master Reina.

  But it wasn’t her.

  It was…

  Evelyn.

  Mark froze. His face twisted into a mix of shock, confusion, and mild terror as he stood abruptly from his seat.

  “Mom?!”

  From the back, Greg let out a mocking whistle. “Wow. Lots of family drama today.”

  I was confused too.

  I’d only met Evelyn once, but based on everything I’d seen and heard, I had this image of Mark’s Mom as some badass, secretly criminal overlord who pulled strings from the shadows, making moves that no one could predict.

  The kind of person you didn’t even realize was pulling your strings until it was too late.

  So imagine my absolute shock when the first thing Evelyn did was smother Mark with kisses.

  “Oh, my sweet baby! My precious child! I heard you got into a fight with a professor and second-years and got beaten black and blue—look at your poor face! Oh, my heart! The cruelty! The injustice!”

  She pressed kisses all over his head, ruffling his hair as Mark struggled weakly in her grip. His arms flailed helplessly, but Evelyn held on like a barnacle.

  This was the woman I thought was a terrifying underworld queen?!

  This was Mark’s Mom?!

  No. No way.

  I couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t real. This was some weird fever dream brought on by getting knocked out.

  Karl, sitting beside me, looked like he had just witnessed someone punch physics in the face.

  Even Greg, who usually had something sarcastic to say, was just staring with what I could only describe as morbid fascination.

  And then it hit me.

  A horrifying thought.

  A realization that made me feel physically ill.

  No way… Was Evelyn the Academy’s Guidance Counselor for Black Tortoise?

  That would suck.

  That would suck so much.

  The last time I met Evelyn—actually, the first time—she had shown up at the convenience store after someone tried to murder me.

  I still remembered the way she strolled in like she owned the place, making morbid jokes about the whole situation, taunting me about how I I have talent in becoming a murderer myself.

  I knew she loved Mark. That much was obvious.

  But back then, I had seen more of her ferocious side than her doting side. She had been sharp, dangerous, and a little unhinged—like a wild animal baring its fangs.

  Not this.

  Not this over-affectionate mom who was currently smothering Mark like a mother hen that had just found her lost chick.

  And the most shocking part?

  Mark—who was really good at slipping out of grapples and chokeholds—was actually failing to escape.

  He twisted and turned, trying to slip from Evelyn’s iron grip, but she held on.

  I stared. This was unprecedented.

  Karl, looking completely unimpressed, sighed loudly and crossed his arms. “Let’s just get this over with. And you, woman—shouldn’t you be acting professional?”

  Evelyn froze.

  Then she cleared her throat dramatically, let go of Mark, and straightened her back.

  She smoothed out her coat, adjusted her sleeves, and turned toward Karl, her face now an expression of fake composure.

  “Ahem. Yes. Professional.”

  Then she walked up to Karl.

  A tense silence followed.

  Evelyn stood over Karl, her presence unnerving despite her relaxed posture. There was something about the way she loomed—casual but predatory—like she had all the time in the world to toy with him.

  Karl, seated with his arms crossed, looked unimpressed.

  Evelyn smiled. It wasn’t comforting.

  "Hi, my name is Evelyn Valentine." Her voice was cheerful but had an odd weight to it. "Professional ESPer, mother of one, and your guidance counselor.”

  Wait. What?

  Greg let out a low whistle. Mark visibly cringed. Karl raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Evelyn leaned down slightly, her piercing gaze locked onto Karl’s.

  “Now, let’s start with you, Karl Brandt.”

  The way she said his full name made the air feel heavier.

  Then came the question, delivered with a pleasant tone that somehow made it sound ten times more ominous.

  “Tell me… how do you wish me to discipline you?”

  The tense silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Karl hadn’t responded yet, still glaring at Evelyn with arms crossed.

  Then, from the back of the room, Greg’s obnoxiously loud voice rang out.

  “Tell me I’m cute, Counselor!”

  BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

  “AAAAAHHHH! MERCY! MERCY!”

  We all ducked. All except Karl, who just sat there like a man who had given up on life. Or probably still too hurt to move so rapidly. I recalled he had taken quite a beating from his dad.

  Bullets flew, hammering into Greg like a storm of retribution. He shrieked, curling up as rubber bullets pelted his body with painful, meaty thuds.

  I could hear Mark groaning beside me, muttering something about Greg never learning.

  Unfortunately, some of those bullets ricocheted. One bounced off the wall and nailed me in the arm.

  “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” I yelped, covering my head as more stray shots whizzed past.

  When I finally peeked up, Evelyn was calmly reloading her gun, spinning it once before tucking it back into her holster like nothing had happened.

  Greg, lying sprawled across the floor, weakly raised a trembling hand. “C-Counselor…?” he gasped.

  Evelyn flicked a rubber bullet at his forehead.

  “Denied.”