A knock jolted Dion. He quickly wrapped the towel tightly and walked out of the bathroom. He opened the door slightly and peeked out of his room with only his upper body.
"Dion, you haven't been to school for the past two weeks. Are you ok…ay–oh my god! What happened to you? Right now, you look like shit. Are you sick? Why didn't you go see the doctor? Besides, you didn't tell me. I'm just a few doors away," a lady with a youthful face and red hair spoke quickly while looking at Dion with worrisome eyes.
She is Professor Ivy Kalispar — the youngest professor in Dion's college. Dion and her wouldn't be considered friends from Dion's perspective but they could be considered… talking mate. She is 23 years old.
"Professor Ivy, it's just some private issue. All is fine." Dion tried to smile but after all the traumatic torture in the dream, smiling is becoming difficult. Besides, he was always a shut-in introvert.
"I don't know what is with young kids and depression nowadays. Falling into depression like it's drinking coffee. Besides, I've never seen you with any girl, so what causes the depression?" Ivy asked worriedly.
Dion thought for a moment, not knowing how to start.
Maybe he should start with, 'In my dream, I'm always tortured by this mean guy. The pain feels real. So–'
He halted his train of thought as what he was planning on saying sounded like a lunatic.
Who would believe him?
Dion's in a deep sh*t that sometimes drives suicidal thoughts into his head but he couldn't cry for help.
Friends? None except one talking mate.
Therapist? Not an option.
Being an introvert is a restraint that stops him from talking to others. Worst of all, the unbelievable tale made him delete the thought of telling others.
He was on his own.
"Erm… private issues," Dion could only say that before she looked at him with narrow eyes.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk. Get dressed, let's go cheer you up. I will wait for you inside." Ivy pushed the door and entered like it was her house.
Dion couldn't help but arch his brows. He could only shake his head and went into the bathroom for a shower.
When he was done, he donned his black hoodie and a pair of black jeans. His legs found themselves in his pair of white sneakers.
"Are you ready?" Ivy examined him from head to toe.
"Let's go to the train station." She picked up her bag and walked out of the room. Dion just trailed behind her.
They had small talks about school on their way with Ivy doing most of the talking. Dion quietly listened as she ranted on and on about her problems and the fun she had.
—
Both of them were seated on the train.
"Where are we going?" Dion couldn't help but ask.
"The hair salon. Let's get you a clean cut. Your messy hair and sprouting beards make you look like 'meh'," Ivy replied.
Dion nodded and quietly gazed out of the train window, watching as it quickly left the streets behind in a blur. But his mind was somewhere.
'I need to escape from that place, but how? I'm almost at my limit. First I need to learn how to escape the chain shackle. Then when that man comes in to check on me, I need to beat him and escape. A simple plan but executing it is like trying to flip the sky.'
Being an introvert, Dion was used to and entertained by his internal musing. The monologue is where he displays his calculations.
'I'm sure that man is one of those bloodline magicians. And they all have super strength above normal humans. Beating him using brute force is an impossibility even if I somehow escape. All my instinctual fighting might prove useless. Doing that is a dumb way to die. First, I should find where I need to learn how to escape tied chains. But where?'
Dion's eyes were still fixated outside the window when he suddenly remembered that Ivy was like a living google map.
He sharply turned to her. "Professor Ivy, do you know any serious martial training centers around here? Not those unserious stuff for students but the real deal; I need something more substantial. A place that bears a striking resemblance to military training grounds."
"What do you need that for?" Ivy stopped pressing her phone and turned to him.
"Private issues," Dion replied instantly.
She stared at him with wide eyes before saying proudly, "Then you got the right tutor."
"Be serious for one minute," Dion said sternly, forgetting she was his professor.
The possibility of finding hope only to be obstructed by something irrelevant irked him to no end. But he held it in as he required her help.
"I'm serious. There is no military drilling I don't know how to teach," Ivy explained quickly.
"Do you remember how we met? I had to play the hero and save you from those gangsters. No matter how I look at it, you do not seem to be… physically strong for those," Dion calmly stated with no emotion in his eyes.
"That's because I was drunk! Also, you rushed in before I could lift my hand. I could do it," Ivy defended herself loudly while waving her fist in the air, attracting attention towards them.
Dion saw that she wasn't spitting any location, he could only resort to the second method.
"I want to escape from a metallic, chain shackle. Can you teach me?"
However, he grossly underestimated Ivy.
"Of course I could do it. After you get your hair done, we will go cheer you up. Then lastly, we will rent a training gym," Ivy boosted.
"I don't have that kind of money. I said just give me a private training center," Dion persuaded.
"Don't worry. I will pay the bills and give you nice tutoring."
"If you can't teach me, you would give me a good location. Deal?" Dion stared at Ivy's eyes intently.
"Deal," she replied calmly.
Dion reclined into his seat, thinking of how things would go.
Time seemed to crawl for Dion as he performed all the activities he deemed useless just to cheer himself up. Professor Ivy made him do it against his wish.
Going to a pleasure park, watching movies, ice skating… everything. Everything was irrelevant and a delay from reaching his goals on the other side.
Time seemed to be mocking him as it refused to speed like normal days when he prayed for days to last longer.
It was already 2 PM after playing.
"Let's go to the gym. You're looking impatient," Ivy said calmly.
"Was I?" Dion asked.
"Of course, you were. Your eyes were screaming, 'boring and irrelevant'."
'I thought I was expressionless and hid it well. Looks like the chance to escape is getting me.'