"Affinity score: 52? Crap… This guy doesn't like me at all."
Doug Feng cast a glance above the head of Director Qiu from the discipline office. The floating number read 52—then, in the blink of an eye, it dropped to 50. Doug felt a chill run down his spine. That meant Qiu Guohua wasn't just strict—he was out for blood.
"You're Doug Feng from Class 3-2, right?" Qiu snapped, flipping through the mock exam report with practiced disdain. "Hmph! Your grades are already bottom-tier, and you have the audacity to get into a fight at the school gates?"
His voice rose as he slammed the papers onto the desk. "This is a place for learning! You students have one job: study hard and improve your grades. The college entrance exam is around the corner, and you're out here bullying your classmates?"
Qiu's face flushed with authority. "According to school rules, fighting—especially in public—warrants a major demerit. On Monday morning, you'll be publicly shamed during the flag-raising ceremony."
He circled something on the class roster with a ballpoint pen, took a deliberate sip of water, and just as he was about to launch into another lecture, the Motorola in his pocket rang.
Qiu glanced at the screen, and his scowl shifted into something vaguely excited. "You're getting the demerit for sure," he muttered distractedly. "Now go back to class. And don't let me catch you fighting again."
Doug had just turned to leave when a muffled voice caught his attention—his enhanced hearing, a side effect of his physical augmentation, picked it up clearly.
"Hello? Young Master Liu? Yes, this is Qiu Guohua… Don't worry, I've got it under control. That female teacher you asked about is a little tough to crack, but I'll get her to Jin Yang Hotel. Once she's there, we'll slip her the stuff. After that, she's all yours."
Doug froze mid-step. His grip on the doorknob tightened.
You disgusting bastards…
He didn't linger. Spitting on the floor behind him, Doug stormed back to class, rage boiling under the surface.
Second day back in high school, and he'd already earned a major demerit. Some reset this was turning out to be.
The first class of the morning was Chinese. By the time Doug got to the classroom, twenty minutes had already passed. Mr. Peng, their elderly Chinese teacher with thick coke-bottle glasses, was deep into reviewing the last mock exam.
"Report."
Doug stood at the door and spoke, but got no response.
"Report," he said again.
Still nothing.
Third time. Silence.
"Re-PORT!" he bellowed, loud enough to shake the windows.
Finally, Mr. Peng turned to look at him with a deadpan expression and adjusted his glasses. "Ah. Quite the lungs on you, Doug. Late and disruptive. That's a two-for-one. Back of the room. Stand until class ends."
Laughter rippled through the classroom.
Some students looked at him with pity, others with schadenfreude. Yang Shunping, one of Lin Yi's bootlickers, smirked as he lowered his head and tapped away on his Nokia under the desk—probably texting Lin Yi about Doug getting chewed out.
This really isn't my day, Doug thought, glancing up to see Mr. Peng's affinity rating drop from 72 to 70. He sighed, threw his bag down, and trudged to the back with his test paper in hand.
Wait a sec…
His eyes caught another number above a familiar head—75.
Wasn't her score only in the 60s before?
He looked again. No doubt about it—75 over Linda's head. She even turned back a few times during the lesson to sneak peeks at him, though each time she met his gaze, she'd quickly turn away like nothing happened.
No way she likes me… right? he thought, puzzled. I'm a bottom-of-the-class nobody. Short, average looks, no money, bad grades… There's no way a girl like her would catch feelings. I mean, sure, I helped her this morning, but it's not like I saved her from a burning building or anything.
Before he could spiral further, the bell rang. Mr. Peng packed up and left, his voice trailing off about syntax and similes. Doug dropped his paper and slumped back into his seat.
His desk mate and longtime buddy, Howie, leaned over with excitement. "Bro! Word is, you decked Lin Yi at the gate this morning. Everyone's talking about it. Damn satisfying. That punk's been throwing his weight around forever."
Doug stretched his shoulders. "Kind of. Then the director showed up, and Lin Yi fed him some BS. Next thing I know, I'm slapped with a demerit."
Howie's grin faded. "That sucks. With his dad being deputy mayor and all, even the principal has to kiss his ass. You better watch your back, man. Good thing we're almost done here. Just hang in till the exams and get the hell out."
He leaned back, groaning at the mountain of worksheets on his desk.
Just then, a soft voice chimed in.
"Hey, Doug… Are you okay?"
Doug turned and saw Linda standing beside his desk, clutching her books. She looked genuinely concerned.
"Of course he's not okay!" Howie cut in, his voice a little too loud. "That sleazebag director gave him a major demerit just to suck up to Lin Yi. If he gets two of those, Doug can't even take the college entrance exam!"
Doug didn't say anything. He was still reeling from the phone call he overheard. If even the discipline director was in on something that vile… then maybe this high school—and everyone in it—was more rotten than he thought.
But now, he had power.
Now, he had a system.
He wasn't the same Doug Feng from yesterday.