Angela happily pulled Chess into the room where all of the class B is gathered. Some of her girlfriends turned to look at them, staring deeply into Chess' foreign face. Angela then lifted her chin, feeling proud that she found herself a male friend who is even prettier than anyone in the class.
The girls squinted their eyes, sizing Chess' appearance.
They first noticed the pinkish lips. As a girl, having pinkish lips is a very important goal. They even buy different types of lip glosses and tints just to make their lips seem naturally pinkish, but when they saw Chess, even with all the products they have, they realized it was hopeless. They could never compare to those lips.
Then, next came his eyes. The black rimmed glasses failed to hide the beauty of his long and curved lashes. He looked like a living doll. If they didn't see the uniform he's wearing, they would most probably mistake him as a girl.
They groaned in jealousy before asking in their heads, 'Where did Angela find this person?'
Angela, on the other hand, ignored their meaningful glances. She only pulled a chair out and settled herself down before gesturing for Chess to sit beside her. Chess silently obliged, making Angela even happier.
She felt so blessed, being so close with a person this pretty. When Chess lifted his hands to arrange the spectacles in his eyes, the onlookers were mesmerized, resulting in some of the girls' giggle.
Most of the boys had even removed their gazes from the books just to look at the person who caused the slight disturbance in the he surrounding atmosphere. They knotted their foreheads, ready to scold the person. But after seeing our lovely Chess, they all forgot what they were supposed to say.
They were supposed to reprimand the person, telling him not to cause disturbance, but what is this? What happened? They felt bewitched. They aren't gays, but the person they saw made them part their lips in fascination.
"Who is that?" one of them asked.
The others only shrugged their shoulders, pointing towards Angela.
"You should ask her. Or much better, just ask him directly."
One of the boys stood up. He arranged the glasses on his eyes before walking towards Chess and Angela. He walked with his back straightened and his chin lifted, making him look like a stringent teacher. He then stopped in front of Chess, stretching his right hand out.
"I'm Hans, a senior. You are?" he had deep voice, contradicting his gentle appearance.
He also have averagely good looks, but it was the studious type. The look of a knowledgeable youth with nothing else to do but study. In short, he looked like a geek. Absolutely fitting this class of geeks.
Hans, who was stringent and indifferent, was already used to being treated like a genius. Maybe it had something to do with the glasses, but everyone treated him like he's a prodigy.
His parents always bragged about him, saying that he's a genius who damaged his sight because of too much studying, when in fact, he damaged his eyesight because he was always playing video games secretly at night.
He was raised as a competitive leader, so just by a simple glance, he can easily tell whether a person has potential to lead or not. And upon seeing Chess, he felt threatened. For the past three years, he always have been the class representative of this class. But now, that secured position might be at risk.
He had to make pre-cautions, so he decided to take the first move to introduce himself. He believes in a saying that 'The person who makes the first move has the upper hand.'
So, he tried his luck.
"My name's Chess. Nice meeting you, senior." Chess also stretched his right hand out and made a handshake with Hans. He was very polite and innocent, making the girls look at him dreamily. He is just so ideal.
But for some reason, he felt that Hans is gripping his hand a little too tight. But because it was just a little, he ignored that gesture.
But to Hans, who gave his all on purposely tightening his grip, it was preposterous. He then widened his eyes at his opponent's reaction.
'How can he look so unaffected? I inserted my whole strength in that handshake! Is he just hiding the pain? Or perhaps, is he just not affected? If that is the case, then this person is a monster!' those ridiculous thoughts ran inside his head.
But just like what was stated previously, the Section 1 – B students' physical abilities are somewhat lacking. This means that their whole strength is not even half of the strength of a normal construction worker. Furthermore, Hans's percentage is only 35 while Chess' is 78. It's obvious who is stronger. A grip like that is nothing for our class rep.
Upon releasing his hands, Hans squinted his eyes, massaging his aching palm. He gave Chess a one last measuring glance before finally walking back to his own seat.
The ones who witnessed the exchange stared at Chess with their amazed gazes. All of them looked up on Hans. He got 35%, while most of them only had less than 20% overall physical performance. Well, isn't that normal for geeks?
They had the tendency to read books all day, not moving an inch, so their builds are not quite good. Maybe Chess is the one who isn't normal, looking frail and all, but still scored 78%. If they knew about this, Hans would probably be the first to go crazy.
When the class started, a professor came in. It was hard to imagine that a top university would have teachers looking like this. It's not that our class rep is being judgmental, but if they require good looks for students to pass the entrance exam, then why not apply that to teachers too?
He stared at the professor standing in front.
His hair was in a mess, his long beard sagging on his chin, and his big round belly peeking out of his tight blue shirt. He didn't look like a teacher at all. Also, he's even hiccupping continuously, an obvious sign that he's drunk. He didn't even look like an average civilian, he looks more like a person who lives in the street, doing nothing aside from drinking.
The whispers around didn't escape our dear Chess' ears. He heard the girls talking about the professor in front.
"Who is he? A new professor?"
"I've never seen him before…"
"Can't you recognize him? That's Mr. Gibo."
Mr. Gibo? Upon hearing those words, the girls who were chatting gasped in shock.
"He's that Mr. Gibo?" There was disbelief in their tones, turning to glance at the professor before chatting back again.
"I know right? His change was drastic. I heard it's because of a recent incident---"
"You there." Their chatter stopped midway when someone spoke from the front. They froze on the spot, unable to even tilt their heads towards that voice's direction.
They clearly knew who it was. Their professor heard them gossiping. They shattered in fear, especially when the smell of alcohol reached their noses.
Mr. Gibo is now standing right in front of them. They all lowered their heads, avoiding eye contact. The drunk old man then bashed his fist on to the girls' table, causing the girls to flinch, their eyes tearing up.
Mr. Gibo lowered himself, closing the gap between him and one of the girls. Then, hr spoke, the smell of alcohol filling the girl's entire system.
The girl trembled, silently praying for someone to come save her.
"Young lady, is it fun talking behind your teacher's back? Huh?" his voice sounded violent, making him look more like a villain. The girl vehemently shook her head, on the verge of choking from her own saliva, suppressing the urge to cry.
The old man once again bashed his fist on to the table, successfully making the girl cry. He gritted his teeth in aggravation, remembering a certain someone.
They are all the same.
Talking behind his back, treating him like he's a useless piece of trash! He can never forget that person's face! The way he mockingly looked at him, the way he smirked at him, and the way he's better than him! That person turned him into what he is now! He would never forget him… he would never forgive him!
As he clenched his fists tighter, the girl sensed the incoming danger. She already prepared to stand on her feet, attempting to run away from this dangerous man, but then, she was stopped by the fear of the incoming hit.
"Stop!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, lifting her arms in front of her face to protect herself.
Our class rep, Chess, was watching the whole time. By the time that person first spoke, up to now as he raised his balled fist at a powerless student. He watched the girl's crying face, suddenly remembering the faces of the kids back in the church.
Chess furrowed his brows, not liking the idea of seeing those kids' crying faces. Once that happens, he would surely be the first person to look for the offender and would definitely make him pay.
But, after all, the girl is not one of those kids. So, in short…
He had no reasons to interfere.