The next morning Ryan woke up early. His body still felt light and strong. He stood in front of the small mirror in his room and stared at his reflection.
He put on his broken glasses anyway and hunched his shoulders the way he always did. The timid mask had to stay on.
He left for school without eating breakfast. His mother was already in the kitchen, washing dishes quietly. She gave him a small worried smile as he passed, but he only nodded and slipped out the side door.
At Riverside High, the final-year homeroom was buzzing even before the bell rang. Ryan took his usual seat at the back corner, near the window. He kept his head down, pretending to read one of his torn textbooks.
Mr Carter, their homeroom teacher, walked in with a clipboard. He was a tall man with greying hair who always looked tired.
"Listen up," Mr Carter said. "Exams are a month away, but before that, we have the annual field project trip next week. You all know what it is... three days at the lakeside camp. It's called a 'field project,' but let's be honest: most of you use it to relax, hang out, and avoid studying."
A few students laughed.
Mr Carter continued. "On the last night, we'll do the talent showcase. Nothing formal. Just for entertainment purposes. Singing, dancing, comedy, whatever you want. Come up with something by the end of the week. Groups are fine too. No pressure, but participation looks good on college apps."
He looked around the room. "Any questions?"
No one raised a hand.
"Good. Class dismissed for now. Use the free period to plan and prepare for your next teacher."
Mr Carter left, and the room exploded into chatter.
Ryan didn't move from his seat. He had no plans to perform. The thought of standing in front of people made his stomach twist. He wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Around him, voices overlapped.
"I'm doing a dance routine with my crew," someone said.
"I'm singing that new pop song," a girl replied.
"Comedy skit. Jake and I are doing impressions."
Lila's voice cut through from the middle row. "I'm doing cheer. Full routine. Might add flips if the stage is big enough."
Ryan kept his eyes on his desk.
Then a voice from the front, Victor Kane's best friend, Dave, spoke loud enough for the whole class to hear.
"Yo, what about the loser in the back? What's Ryan gonna do? Read us a book report?"
Snickers spread like fire.
Someone else added, "Maybe he'll perform 'being invisible.' He's already good at that."
More laughter.
Ryan didn't look up.
A rough ball of paper hit the back of his head. He turned slowly.
Before he could see who threw it, a full textbook slammed into his face. Hardcover first. Pain exploded across his nose. Warm blood dripped onto his lips and shirt.
The class roared with laughter.
Ryan touched his nose. Fingers came away red.
[DING—DING—DING]
Multiple Humiliations Detected.
Shame Resonance: High
H Coins Gained: +214
He pulled up the panel in his mind.
Humiliation Coins: 333
His heart jumped. Over 300 now. It was enough for Perfect Recall, but...
He thought about it for a second. Perfect Recall would help with studying and remembering things. But right now, at this moment, it wouldn't stop a fist or a bat.
Enhanced Reflexes was 250. That one felt more useful. It was something he could use to protect himself.
He almost bought it right then.
But he stopped.
"No," he whispered to himself. "Wait. Get to 500 first. Be patient."
The class was still laughing, but the energy shifted. Everyone started talking about the field trip again. For once, they were too busy planning to keep targeting him.
The morning passed without another hit.
Lunch came.
Ryan usually avoided the cafeteria. Since there were too many people. Too many eyes. But today he walked straight there.
If more people meant more humiliation, then more coins.
He had 333 already. Close to 500.
He bought the cheapest thing: two slices of toast and a small pack of yoghurt. Total $3. He sat at an empty table in the corner with his head down as he ate slowly.
It didn't take long.
Victor, Dave, Lila, and three others walked over like they owned the place.
Victor leaned on the table. "Look at this. Eating alone again, Hayes?"
Ryan kept his eyes on his plate, chewing slowly.
Dave snatched the yoghurt pack. "What's this? Kid's lunch?"
He twisted the cap off and slowly poured the cold yoghurt over Ryan's head. It ran down his hair, his face, soaked into his collar, dripped onto his toast.
Lila laughed. "Gross. Now he matches his personality."
Victor grabbed the toast and smashed it against Ryan's chest. "There. Lunch served."
The cafeteria around them started to notice. Phones came out. Laughter spread from table to table.
Ryan sat still. Head lowered. Yoghurt dripping from his chin.
Inside, the panel lit up.
[DING—DING—DING—DING]
Multiple Humiliations Detected.
Shame Resonance: Very High
Public Exposure + Group Mockery
H Coins Gained: +187
Then another wave as more students laughed and pointed.
[DING—DING]
Additional Resonance
H Coins Gained: +112
Total flashed: Humiliation Coins: 632
It was enough. More than enough to get what he wanted.
Ryan focused on the shop.
[Purchase: Enhanced Reflexes – 250 H Coins?]
'Yes.'
The second he confirmed, pain ripped through his body.
It felt like every muscle and joint was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time. His arms jerked. His legs spasmed. His spine arched.
He screamed.
The sound echoed through the cafeteria.
He fell off the chair, crashing to the floor, hands clutching his head. Body convulsing.
The laughter stopped.
Victor stepped back. "What the hell?"
Dave stared down at him. "Yo, did we do that? Is he having a seizure or something?"
Lila frowned. "Maybe he's allergic to yoghurt. Or he's just faking it. That bastard is always looking for attention."
Someone else muttered, "Should we call the nurse?"
Dave laughed nervously. "Nah. He's probably acting. But if he's gonna play games..."
He picked up a metal baseball bat that had been leaning against a nearby chair, his practice bat. He gripped it with both hands.
"Maybe he needs a real wake-up call."
"Whoa!" Everyone roared and focused their phones well.
Dave swung the bat in a wide arc, aiming straight for Ryan's head.
Time seemed to slow.
Ryan's hand shot up... without thinking, without looking.
Fingers closed around the bat mid-swing.
The metal stopped dead. The impact should have broken bones but it didn't.
The cafeteria went silent.
Dave's eyes widened. "What...?"
Ryan opened his eyes. He was still on the floor, yoghurt dripping from his hair, but his grip on the bat was iron.
He stared at his own hand.
"Huh?" he muttered. "What did I just do?"