The bell rang like a blade on glass.
Chalk dust, cheap perfume, a waterfall of lockers slamming—none of it belonged to the garage. The world had snapped sideways and dropped her into a corridor crowded with navy-blue uniforms and the glint of camera phones. Elara swayed on her feet, the ghost of cold concrete replaced by scuffed linoleum.
[Ding!]
Event: World Transfer Complete — Campus
Status:
- Survival Probability: 64% → 40% (world baseline reset)
- Attention: 12/100 (Attention Anchor persists)
- Council Timer: 06:00:00
Sub-Objectives:
A) Secure exonerating footage/post history (+5%)
B) Avoid private confrontation with President > 10 min (−3% if breached)
Memories, thin and sharp as paper cuts, sliced into her mind. Elara Vance, again. But this time, the heiress was a scholarship student at the prestigious Aethelstan Academy, clinging to her place by a thread. And she was notorious. The new memories supplied the taste of it—bitter and familiar. The 'Campus Queen,' a title earned not through charm but through fear, a carefully constructed armor of cruelty to hide a world of insecurity.
A bulletin board near the principal's office was a riot of red pen and printouts. Her name—underlined twice—sat above a collage of screenshots from the school's anonymous "Aethelstan Confessions" forum. Vile posts attributed to her. But the centerpiece was a single, grainy video still: a figure in her distinct crimson blazer shoving a smaller, mousy-haired girl against a locker. The clip was only three seconds, looped to infinity. Her face wasn't clear, but the blazer was a damning brand.
Not a memory. A frame-up.
"Bully," a voice hissed as its owner swept past. A phone lens swiveled toward her, hungry for a reaction.
"Vance."
The voice behind her was cool and precise, cutting through the hallway murmur. She turned. The Student Council President, Kaelan Thorne, stood there, his tie a perfect, unforgiving line against his white shirt. His gaze was the same winter-storm grey as Liam's, but younger, sharper, honed by academic rigor and a rumored, absolute disdain for anyone who broke the rules. He looked at her not with anger, but with the detached focus of a pathologist examining a stain.
[Ding!]
Event: Male Lead Interaction (On Site)
Status:
- Attention: 12/100 → 15/100 (Δ +3)
- Survival Probability: 40% → 39% (Δ −1%)
"The Disciplinary Council convenes after last period," he stated, no greeting, no preamble. He held out a slim folder. "The formal accusation packet. I suggest you review it. The evidence appears… compelling."
Elara took the folder, her fingers steady. She didn't open it. She already knew its contents. Survival first. Pride later. "Compelling isn't the same as conclusive, President Thorne," she said, her voice even. "If you'll excuse me, I have a case to dismantle."
She moved to step past him, but his quiet words stopped her. "The council values truth, Vance. If you have evidence of your innocence, now would be the time to present it. Not with theatrics when you're on the stand."
Before she could retort, a new voice, sharp with authority, cracked through the noise. "Elara Vance! My classroom. Now!"
Ms. Gable, the stern history teacher, stood with her arms crossed at the end of the hall. "Detention. For 'disruptive hallway conduct'." The woman's lips thinned. "And don't think this gets you out of the Disciplinary Council. You'll go straight there after. I've arranged for a supervisor to ensure you don't… wander off."
A cold knot tightened in Elara's stomach. Detention now? Right before the hearing? This was a move to isolate her, to ensure she had no time to gather a defense.
[Thrum…]
Warning: Detention Before Hearing
Timer: 01:30:00
Penalty on Failure: Survival −4%
As Ms. Gable turned away, Kaelan Thorne spoke again, so softly only she could hear. "It seems you'll be my responsibility for the next hour and a half. I've been asked to supervise your detention."
He didn't smile. He didn't need to. The trap was closing. She was being locked in a room with the one person whose opinion could sway the entire council, with a timer ticking down to her potential expulsion, and a system warning flashing in her vision. Prolonged, private time with the Male Lead was the most dangerous terrain of all.