Those who had awakened their abilities were clearly excited, some even giddy with anticipation. Meanwhile, those who hadn't awakened anything pressed themselves up to the classroom windows, watching the activity out on the field with envy.
There were quite a few in the whole school who'd awakened a power. Maybe it wasn't half the student body, but it was pretty close.
And in the future, as spiritual energy continued to grow, more and more people would surely gain abilities.
Brandon stood next to Sean, wearing his usual impassive expression and radiating a "don't bother me" aura—a stark contrast to the buzz of excitement on the field.
But anyone who knew Brandon wouldn't be surprised. In fact, they might even find it funny.
Just like right now—Brandon couldn't help but recall Sean's "magic trick" in class earlier, and had to fight back the urge to laugh.
Sean turned and gave Brandon a wounded look.
"Bran, did I look like a total idiot back in the classroom?"
"You don't even have to ask—of course you did. That wasn't just embarrassing, it was a whole comedy routine."
Brandon couldn't help it and burst out laughing.
"How did you manage to awaken a power and immediately convince yourself you were the main character?"
"You really thought you were the only one in the world with powers?"
"At the very least, couldn't you have tested the waters first? Posted anonymously online, checked out some forums? someone would've shown off already if they'd awakened something."
"But no, you went and tried to show off in front of Lily by pretending it was magic!"
"Everyone in our class has known you for three years. If you could do magic, you would've been performing it since freshman year. And then to try it right after the planetary alignment? Your timing was way too obvious."
"And if someone had actually caught you, what could you have done with your 'floating pencil' trick? Your powers are so basic right now that anyone could stop you."
Brandon couldn't resist roasting him. He really was too young. Back in his previous life, even if only one student had a superpower, Brandon would have figured it out just from their behavior.
When someone suddenly acts completely out of character, it's a giveaway.
Sean's face darkened with every word. Sure, everything Brandon said was true, but did he really have to say it out loud?
He was about to defend himself when Wyatt Zhang suddenly sidled up and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Wanting to be the main character is understandable. Who doesn't, right?"
"But we've got to be realistic. The protagonist doesn't have to be a model, but you can't be ugly either. Sorry, but you just don't fit the bill."
"And you need to be, what, a solid eighteen or twenty…"
"I'm eighteen!" Sean protested, confused.
"I'm not talking about age," Wyatt deadpanned.
"…I do have that, okay! Shut up already!" Sean's face went from pale to red to green, then he glared at Wyatt, realizing what he meant.
Joking about that in broad daylight?
Even the students from other classes nearby caught the joke and coughed awkwardly, giving Wyatt dirty looks.
Wyatt just stared them down. "What are you all looking at? Don't tell me none of you have it either?"
He kept their eyes locked until one by one, everyone looked away.
"Yeah, whatever."
"I want to smack that guy."
"You're not the only one. His face is asking for it."
"I mean, that smug look… it's like a meme come to life. So punchable."
One student leaned over and whispered, "See that guy next to Wyatt? Used to be on the school basketball team, does martial arts too. Dude's ripped."
"Your wind power wouldn't even tickle him."
With that, they gave Brandon a once-over, then checked themselves, and decided not to push it.
Brandon noticed the looks and sighed. Why was he always getting dragged into this? And Wyatt, of all people—why'd he have to bring up that subject?
But before Brandon could say anything, Wyatt grinned at him. "Honestly, if anyone here was going to be the protagonist, it'd be Brandon. I'd put the odds at eighty percent."
Now that got everyone's attention.
Let's see, why Brandon?
Wyatt started ticking off the reasons: "First, looks. Back when he was on the basketball team, every girl in the stands was there for him."
"Family's well-off. Legit second-generation money."
"Academics? He's consistently in the top ten for the whole grade. Maybe not number one, but if you know, you know—he's got the talent and the drive."
"And get this, he's in bed by ten every night. Can you imagine either the straight-A students or the slackers pulling that off?"
"Handsome, smart, rich, athletic—and, most importantly, his seat's in the back row by the window."
"Back row, window seat—the classic home turf of a main character!"
Usually, seat assignments in high school rotated regularly. Nobody kept the same seat all year.
But in Brandon's class, the homeroom teacher had made it clear since their freshman year: seats were based on grades.
You could sit wherever you wanted—as long as you proved yourself academically.
It wasn't that no one else had better grades than Brandon. Some just preferred sitting up front, so the back-row window seat naturally became Brandon's.
(End of Chapter)