I sat on the cold terrazzo floor, leaning against the heavy mahogany door of Hanna's room. It was 4:00 AM, the time of night when only criminals, ghosts, and idiots like me were awake. My knees were killing me, and the "Hidden Treasure" I had spent the last two hours hunting for—based on the system's cryptic, vague notification—was nowhere to be found.
"System," I hissed into the quiet hallway, "are you sure it wasn't just a metaphor for 'the friends we made along the way'? Because I'm about to make a friend with a baseball bat if I don't get some damn SP."
"I have 0 SP!" I yelled, then immediately slapped a hand over my mouth, praying the "cold beauty" inside hadn't heard me.
The notification was abruptly cut off as the door swung open. Hanna stood there, dressed in a surprisingly normal, oversized university hoodie, holding a stack of textbooks. She looked at me, currently sprawled on the floor like a dead fish, with pure disdain.
"Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you actually going to carry these?" she snapped, pushing the books into my chest.
"At 4 AM?" I managed to squeak out, buckling under the sudden weight of Introduction to Cyber-Law.
"The library is open 24/7, and I have a paper due."
I blinked, trying to compute this. "A paper? At 4 AM? You're one of the Reeves; you probably bought the university. Who enforces deadlines on you?"
Hanna scoffed, stepping over my legs. "It's remedial, genius. I skipped the entire introductory week to go to a fashion show in Paris. The professor is a stickler for attendance, even if the work is beneath me. Now, move."
As I stumbled behind her, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from the main hallway. Jake Reeves, looking far too awake and immaculate for this hour, blocked our path. He held a sleek, black leather folder.
"Hanna," Jake said, ignoring my pained expression. "Your brother knows you hate being followed. So, I've found a compromise."
He tossed the folder onto the top of my book stack.
"Salus, you are now officially a transfer student in the Advanced AI and Security program at SKY University. Effective immediately. You will accompany Hanna to all lectures, library sessions, and campus events. Do not let her out of your sight."
I looked at the folder, then at the system screen that was already flashing a new quest prompt.
"Wait," I stammered, "I didn't even finish high school. I learned to hack in a basement! How am I supposed to—"
"And I," Jake said, smiling coldly, "paid a very large donation to ensure you have a transcript. You are starting as a junior. Don't make me regret it. Hanna, go."
As Hanna continued walking toward the garage, completely ignoring the conversation, I was left standing there, paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of it all.
Three hours later, the bloodstained shirt was in a dumpster, and I was stepping out of a high-end designer store. I looked into the mirror, barely recognizing myself. I was clad in a sharp, dark-blue blazer, tailored black jeans, and shoes that cost more than my old laptop.
"I might not know the difference between a preposition and a proposition," I muttered, adjusting my collar, "but I'm going to look like I do."
"Shut up, system. I'm preparing for the grandest heist of all," I said, eyeing the university entrance in the distance. "Stealing an education."
I wasn't actually going to move in with Hanna—she'd kill me—but the hostel life meant monitoring her from a distance. I checked the folder again. My dorm was in the West Wing, hers in the East.
As I walked toward the towering gothic gates of SKY University, I felt a familiar tension. It was the same feeling I got right before blowing a vault door. Only this time, I wasn't worried about the guards.
I was worried about the professors.
I braced myself, preparing a witty retort, but the guy—tall, arrogant, and wearing a suit that shouted 'my dad is a senator'—didn't even look at me. He bypassed me completely, his eyes locked on Hanna further up the walkway.
"300 SP?" I mumbled, my hand twitching involuntarily. "That's a lot of points."
I looked at the watch, then at the arrogant ex-boyfriend walking away. My hands, trained to be faster than the eye, felt a familiar pull.
This was going to be a very interesting semester.