Cassian rose from his bed again, groaning.
"Seriously, this is like the third time I'm getting up today," he muttered.
He rubbed his face with both hands and sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the tent wall. There was no use lamenting over the old man's scam anymore. The book turned out to be nothing but trash. What mattered now was cleaning.
"At least that old hag's gone," he said to himself, standing up. "No more sharing shifts. Finally, some peace."
His eyes landed on the book lying near the corner. He frowned.
"This stupid thing again."
He picked it up and turned it around in his hands. It looked even uglier in the daylight.
"I'll throw this away when dumping my sweeps," he said, tucking it inside his shirt.
Stepping outside, the warm morning sun hit him straight in the face. He squinted a little and looked around. The old man's tent was completely gone now, along with all his things. It was like he'd never existed.
Cassian smirked.
"That's what you get for scamming me, old bastard."
He stretched his arms and started heading toward the academy. The path was long and dusty, and his thoughts were already ruined by the day ahead.
The teachers' office.
He sighed loudly.
"Out of all the places I could clean, why does it have to be the teachers' office?"
Then he chuckled darkly.
"Those old pigs have no sense of cleanliness."
He turned his head as if talking directly to someone beside him.
"Y'all probably won't understand until I get there. Those bastards just sleep all day, drooling and farting like it's a competition. I swear, if I ever get powers, they'll be the first ones I take out."
He stopped, thinking about what he'd just said.
"Yeah… I'll kill those fuckers just for existing."
Another sigh.
He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and kept walking, dragging his feet lazily until he reached the small storehouse where the cleaning supplies were kept.
He pushed the door open. The smell of old rags, soap, and dust hit him instantly. He frowned. "Ugh… this place stinks."
Usually, there were other cleaners here at this hour, chatting, complaining, or rushing to grab their mops before the supervisors showed up. But today, the place was quiet. Too quiet.
He looked around the empty shelves.
"Where the hell is everyone?"
He scratched his head.
"Did they all leave for duties already? No way… there's always the late ones. Always."
He turned around, still frowning, when suddenly—
Click.
The door behind him opened.
Footsteps entered, soft but steady.
"Oh, they're finally here," Cassian said, relieved. "Took you all long enou—"
He turned his head.
It wasn't the cleaners.
Cassian froze when he saw the four boys standing before him.
Of course, it had to be them. His old classmates. The same idiots who chase him around the academy like rabid dogs.
He sighed, long and tired, grabbing his mop and broom. "These bastards again," he muttered. "What the hell do they want this time, bro?"
The boys smirked, stepping closer. They weren't even trying to hide their hostility.
Cassian forced a grin and waved weakly. "Hey bros," he said, walking forward like he hadn't just cursed them under his breath. He even bent a little to salute them, grinning wider.
Because which motherfucker wouldn't? He was surrounded by four mages. Four. Even one of them was enough to kill him in less than a second.
They had already blocked the door, too. So there was no escape.
Cassian cleared his throat and gave an awkward smile. "Ah, I get it now. You guys have a meeting here, huh? Silly me. No wonder the other cleaners didn't dare come in." He scratched the back of his neck, taking a careful step back. "Well then, I'll just take my leave now—"
He tried to walk past, but one of the boys stepped in front of him, slamming a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
Cassian tensed. "Alright, listen bro," he said quickly, forcing a laugh. "I apologize for walking in here. Really, I do. But just let me go, man. I've got floors to sweep."
The boy didn't move. None of them did.
Of course Cassian wasn't a fool. He knew exactly why they were here. They weren't here to talk. They were here to beat the life out of him again.
He swallowed hard, shifting his weight and glancing around for a possible escape route. Not that he'd find one. The only window was too small for his shoulders, and the only door was blocked by four smug idiots.
He could already feel the trouble brewing.
One of the boys stepped forward, smirking. "We heard about your little interaction with Harley this morning."
Cassian blinked. "Harley?" He frowned. The name didn't ring a bell. He thought for a moment, then tilted his head. "Wait… Harley? That's a girl's name, right?"
He furrowed his brows as he stepped back. Who the hell was Harley? The only girl he had talked to today was—
"Oh," he said slowly. "You mean the pretty girl that came with the maintenance crew this morning?"
The second the word "pretty" left his mouth, all four boys stiffened. Their faces twisted like he had just insulted their mothers.
Cassian's smile faded as he watched their expressions turn darker and darker.
He blinked once. Then twice.
"Wait… you guys don't mean…"
Their killing intent said it all.
And that was when Cassian realized—calling her "pretty" might have just signed his death certificate.