At last, the final group entered the scene, signifying the arrival of the Second Year Gold Class. The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, and a sense of unease washed over the assembly. The figures leading this class seemed to draw attention and not in a positive way. My focus narrowed on three distinct individuals, their presence palpably distinct from the previous classes. I glanced over at John, whose expression mirrored the growing discomfort in the room.
"You got hit hard, John," I commented, recalling his barely concealed grin when my placement in the Silver Class was announced.
John clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze fixated on his classmates. "It's a true nightmare. Those three bastards are in this class."
I knew precisely which individuals he was referring to—two young men and a girl who were infamous for their antics.
"Best of luck dealing with that this year," I empathized, feeling a genuine sense of pity for his predicament.
