ARMSTRONG ACADEMY – FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
The gates of Armstrong Academy closed behind them. White stone buildings, monumental staircases, French-style gardens. Everything here breathed money, power, heritage.
Midas walked through the hall. Behind him, Silva, Daek-Bin, Amélie.
People stared at them. Sideways glances. Whispers.
"—Did you see their clothes?
—Looks like they slept in a dumpster.
—They're not from around here, that's for sure."
They split up. Each headed to their own classroom.
---
CLASS C – THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL
Midas pushed open the door.
The room was vast. Solid wood desks. Upholstered chairs. A digital board. Potted plants.
About thirty students, already seated. Impeccable uniforms. Cold stares.
Midas looked for a seat.
First row? Full. Second row? Full. Third row? Full.
He headed to the back.
A broken chair. The only empty seat. Damaged, wobbly, unworthy of this room.
Midas looked at it.
Then he looked at the most comfortable chair. The one in the center of the third row. Surrounded by space. A high backrest. A thick cushion.
The chair of the most prestigious student.
He sat down.
The whispers stopped. Eyes turned to him. Icy stares. Contemptuous stares.
"—He's crazy.
—He doesn't know who that is.
—He's going to get destroyed."
Midas didn't move. He crossed his arms. He waited.
The door opened.
William Armstrong entered.
Custom suit. Slicked-back hair. Predatory smile. Behind him, two burly men in uniform, bulging muscles, shaved heads.
The whole class stood up.
Not a word. Not an instruction. All standing.
The girls smiled. The boys stepped aside. William walked down the center aisle like a K-pop star, silently acclaimed by his subjects.
He reached his seat.
He saw Midas.
His smile vanished.
"Hey, you."
Midas looked at him. A nonchalant gaze, half-closed eyelids.
"What?"
"You're sitting in my seat."
Midas didn't move. He pointed to the broken chair at the back.
"There's an empty seat over there."
William slammed the table.
BAM.
The whole class jumped.
"Do you know who I am, you wretch? I'm William Armstrong. The heir to the Armstrong empire. The most powerful being within these four walls."
Midas stood up.
Slowly. Calmly.
He stood in front of William. They were nearly the same height.
"The most powerful?"
His voice was soft. Almost a whisper.
"Who decided that?"
William clenched his fists.
"Me."
"Then show me."
William attacked.
A purple slime shot from his hand. A sticky, acidic substance that spread across Midas's arm. The skin began to smoke.
Midas didn't move.
His body instinctively transformed. Into gold. Pure. Brilliant.
The slime ran off like water on a smooth surface.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The drops fell to the floor.
Midas understood.
Him too. He's a pariah.
William stepped back, surprised. He tried to punch. His fist struck Midas's golden chest.
CRACK.
William screamed. His fist was broken.
"William." Midas's voice was still soft. "You're my lackey now."
He grabbed him by the collar, lifted him.
"My name is Midas Grey."
He set him down.
"Come. I need to introduce you to some people."
---
CENTRAL HALL – MEETING OF THE CLANS
Silva was waiting for them by the bulletin board. Daek-Bin leaned against a pillar. Amélie stood a little further back, watching them.
"You took your time," said Silva.
"I had to convince someone," replied Midas.
William, behind him, his fist swollen, looked at the others.
"Them too?" he murmured.
"Them too."
Midas gathered his lieutenants.
The grand project was called Family.
The pyramid was simple.
At the top: Midas.
Below: William, Silva, Daek-Bin, Amélie, and the others.
Each had a role.
· William: pure and simple extortion. He would use his status to reign. His name, his family, his empire – he would put them at the service of the Family.
· Adeline – a girl from the Ravel clan, third in the city's family hierarchy – joined them. The scam. Fake documents. Rigged testimonies. She would bring down those who refused to pay.
· The others, those who had overthrown their powerful leaders in their own sectors, swelled the ranks. Every department, every class, every stream – a chief. A relay. A collector.
· Daek-Bin: extortion, but on a small scale. The small fish. The shopkeepers. The modest families. Nothing visible. Nothing traceable.
· Silva: strategic manipulation. The art of bringing down an enemy without lifting a finger. Fabricated evidence. Destroyed reputations. Broken lives.
· Amélie: clairvoyance. Her fortune-telling shop, in the academy's basement. Clients came. She read their future. Their fears. Their secrets. Then the Family contacted them. "You want to keep your reputation? That'll cost you."
Within three months, Midas controlled the entire institution.
In the shadows.
Lackeys everywhere. Bribed teachers. Terrorized students.
A fragile peace. A shaky peace. But peace.
---
THE STRANGER
Then the peace began to crumble.
One day, a rumor spread through the hallways.
"A new student."
"He's arriving today."
"Where's he from?"
"No one knows."
Midas was in the courtyard. Silva was beside him. Daek-Bin watched from a distance.
The gates opened.
A figure stepped forward.
No custom suit. No impeccable uniform. Ordinary clothes, almost dirty.
He was alone.
No one accompanied him.
His hair was disheveled. Thick black strands, like bristling spikes.
His gaze was monstrous. Not mean. Not cold. Monstrous.
He had pointed teeth. Like a shark.
William, standing beside Midas, stepped back.
"That guy…"
The newcomer stopped in the middle of the courtyard.
He looked around.
Silence.
No one said anything. No one moved.
Then he turned his head toward Midas.
His eyes locked onto him.
A moment. A long moment.
Midas didn't move.
The newcomer smiled. A shark's smile.
He walked away.
Silva turned to Midas.
"He's dangerous."
Midas didn't answer.
He watched the figure walk away.
"We'll keep an eye on him."
---
TO BE CONTINUED…