Chapter 2

It was the morning class. No one was late, and the students who had taken leave the day before were all present.

Justice and Misar entered together, and the looks they received were knowing. Both sat down with composure, unfazed by the attention. However, they hadn't expected that the instructor would be absent today, replaced by an assistant. When Rosh appeared, he looked toward Justice and smiled. After introducing himself, he lectured fluently without a hint of stage fright—a stark contrast to his demeanor at the social dance.

Justice felt Misar’s foot press down on her toes, causing her to lean forward in pain. She whispered to the person in front, "Let go, it hurts like hell."

"You’re the one who caused this, and now you’re here."

"I’ll never do it again, just let go."

Once her foot was freed, Justice sighed to herself, lamenting that while her taste in men was correct, the timing was all wrong. Still, she had only known Rosh for a day; they could shift the dynamic to just being friends. Rosh taught in a deep yet accessible way; as a top student in the Command Department, he was more than qualified to teach the Combat Department.

After the two-hour class, Rosh approached Justice, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Justice, let’s have lunch together."

"Can a friend join us? Misar."

Rosh looked at Misar, who stood to the side, and offered a friendly smile. "Sure, let’s go together."

Once he left, Justice immediately lifted her foot. "You’re doing it again. We’re just going to be friends with him."

Misar eyed her askance. "Just friends?"

"Please, we only met last night. We're just going to be friends."

Misar let it slide. She was right; they had just met, so being friends was fine.

Having skipped breakfast, Justice and Misar rushed to the academy cafeteria. It was self-service, with badges automatically scanning for payment; a meal cost only three Court Coins, which was very cheap. After filling her tray and claiming a table, Justice went back for two more, followed by drinks and desserts. Misar filled five trays. Just as he sat down, Justice spotted Rosh and waved to signal him over. Rosh nodded and went to get his food.

"You’re ruining our date," Misar grumbled.

"Oh, give it a rest. Since when does the academy cafeteria count as a date?"

Misar gulped down his drink. "Then let’s go racing tonight."

"You forgot, we have combat class tonight."

"There’s no time for a relationship."

Rosh walked over and sat down next to Justice naturally. Misar made loud noises with his straw and kicked her lightly under the table. Justice glared at him—what was his problem? They didn't even know the guy.

Rosh looked at the mountain of food they had taken. "You’re eating all this?"

"We didn't have breakfast," Justice replied.

Misar, not wanting to engage with Rosh, kept shoveling food into his mouth. Justice and Rosh chatted while they ate. Suddenly, a jarring sound erupted; a lower-classman had been bumped into, and his tray shattered on the floor. The person who bumped him grabbed the last meat roll and deliberately said, "Watch where you're going."

Amber, who had just picked up a new tray, slammed it into the back of the guy's head and said nonchalantly, "My hand slipped."

The man was furious and moved to punch Amber, but his wrist was caught. Justice spoke up, "Do you want to be written up?"

The man looked around and unclenched his fist. Justice let go, and he touched the back of his head, which was bleeding from the impact. "Kid, you just wait."

He set down his tray and headed for the infirmary. Amber looked at Justice with a brilliant smile. "Senior, thank you. Can I sit with you?"

Justice had brought back a little tail. Misar frowned. "It’s you again, kid."

"My name is Amber."

To them, Amber, who was five years their junior, was just a kid. Rosh asked curiously, "Amber, how do you know Justice?"

"I live next door to her."

Amber seemed like a harmless little neighbor, and neither Misar nor Rosh paid him much mind. Justice and Misar started talking about the evening class. "Later, just let me knock you down with two punches so we can leave early."

"Why am I the one getting punched? That’s so embarrassing."

"Can you beat me? Even if our classmates believe it, Instructor Danny won't."

"Fine, fine. Just go easy on me, two punches only." Justice had always maintained a perfect score in combat.

Rosh chimed in, "Instructor Danny is on marriage leave. From now on, it’ll be Instructor Radon."

Justice and Misar looked at Rosh in unison. "For real?"

"Why Instructor Radon? Isn't he on the front lines?"

Rosh smiled. "I saw him yesterday. Don't even think about cheating; his punishments are terrifying."

Justice and Misar exchanged glances. Their date was ruined.

At seven in the evening, the three classes of the Combat Department had their combat lesson together. Everyone changed into form-fitting combat suits and sat on the floor. Justice and Misar sat together, bumping into each other playfully. The class monitor coughed softly, and everyone turned their attention as Instructor Radon walked in.

He was a middle-aged man with deep nasolabial folds and a stern expression. Being stared at by those gray eyes sent a chill down one's spine. Usually, students were called up for drills by roll call or in order of their student numbers. Radon wanted a general assessment of the students, so he called out all the high-scoring ones to face off, with the winners continuing to the next round.

Justice and Misar both stood up. Radon mixed students from all three classes for the matchups. Olavid stood across from Justice and said, "You don't have to go easy on me."

Justice nodded.

Radon blew the whistle, and the fight began. Justice dodged a punch, hooked Olavid’s leg to trip him, and struck his abdomen with her elbow. In the next instant, she had his arm twisted behind his back and kicked his knee, forcing him to one knee. Radon glanced at them before moving on.

Olavid had lost quickly, his face ashen. Justice sheepishly let go. "You told me not to go easy."

"Hmph."

As Olavid stepped down, his classmates didn't dare comfort him, sensing his foul mood. Some students had perfect scores only because the grading scale was capped, not because their skill was truly at the peak.

The first round ended quickly. In the second round, Justice's opponent was a tall, burly man. Justice charged first, feinting a punch; as he reacted, she spun behind him, locked his neck with her arm, and drove her knee into the gap between his vertebrae. The man didn't dare move, fearing paralysis. Justice won again, and while others were still struggling, she sat on the sidelines to watch.

In the third round, Radon changed his mind. He ordered the remaining seven people to attack Justice all at once. Justice wasn't happy about it. "Instructor, isn't this unfair?"

Radon replied with a flat, emotionless tone, "The battlefield doesn't care about fairness."

He blew the whistle, and the seven rushed at Justice. Justice struck the weakest one first, kicking him in the side and sending him flying. She grabbed another opponent, used his momentum to leap up, dodged a punch from behind, and kicked two others into each other. A sneak attack came from behind; Justice grabbed the arm, threw the attacker over her shoulder, and slammed her elbow down.

In less than five minutes, she had taken down four people. The room went silent. Radon applied pressure: "If the three of you lose, you’re running fifty laps."

The three who had planned to take a hit and step down suddenly found their motivation. Justice cursed under her breath—she had to get serious. The trio didn't act rashly, circling Justice to find a weakness. The first one to rush forward was kicked face-first into the ground by Justice, blood streaming from his nose. Gasps filled the room. Under the threat of Justice’s gaze, the other two faltered, and Misar raised his hand to surrender, preferring to run laps than get beaten up.

Boos were directed at Misar, but he just shrugged, unbothered. Only one remained, and he shouted, "I'm going all in!"

A minute later, Justice prepared a hand-strike, and he yelled, "I surrender!"

More boos followed. The man rubbed his neck, thinking, *It’s not you getting hit.*

Justice looked at Radon. "Instructor, may I step down?"

Radon took off his coat. "The next opponent is me."

Justice hissed, then licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She took a deep breath and charged. Radon’s punch barely grazed her face; she grabbed his arm and kicked him, but he didn't budge, so she released him and backflipped away. When she landed, she kicked at his fist, but her leg went numb from the impact, and she dared not face him head-on again.

Assuming a defensive stance, she circled Radon twice. As she reached his left side, she suddenly shouted, "Ahhh!"

She threw a punch, but suddenly tilted backward. As his leg swept out, she spun on her heel to dodge and struck with her elbow. She missed, and her arm was nearly twisted off. "Instructor, I surrender."

He let go of her arm. A faint smile touched Radon’s stern face. "Justice, very good."

Outside the training grounds, Rosh stood by the window, watching without blinking, an unfamiliar heat filling his chest. After class, the three who had been punished went to run their laps, complaining to each other that they should have just taken the first hit and stepped down.

Justice sat on the bleachers waiting for Misar, playing with his game console. When he passed by, she looked up. "I'm waiting for you, run faster."

At that, Misar would speed up, leaving the other two behind.

Half an hour later, Misar finished, collapsing on the ground in exhaustion. A few minutes later, Justice pulled him up to go to the public showers to clean up and change.

It was nearly ten o'clock when they left the academy. Misar held Justice’s hand as they went to grab a late-night snack nearby. Later, they changed their minds and packed food to take to Justice’s apartment; Misar had many movies on his storage card. They chose her place because it was closer to the academy, and Misar’s private residence had never had guests, making it inconvenient to go there suddenly.

Inside, Misar changed into the loungewear his butler had sent over and picked a war movie. As they opened the packages, the aroma wafted out, making them even hungrier. One was a grilled meat set, the other grilled shrimp. Misar also took a bottle of wine from his car, turning their late-night snack into something romantic.

They didn't finish the movie. As they kissed, they lost control; young bodies were always filled with passion, and it took a few times to feel satisfied.

When the alarm went off the next day, they woke up reluctantly. They were quite childish, bumping into each other while brushing their teeth. Justice was mischievous, dabbing white foam onto Misar’s face, and he shrieked as he dodged. Justice laughed so hard she accidentally swallowed some foam. She kept rinsing her mouth, and it was Misar’s turn to laugh loudly.

The two put on their black academy uniforms and headed out, taking the trash with them. After they left, the door next door opened, and Amber, dark circles under his eyes, slammed his door shut with a loud *bang*.

There was a bakery downstairs in the apartment building that sold soft, delicious bread. Justice and Misar each took a freshly baked savory roll and walked toward the academy.

Justice’s application to stay at the school after graduation had been approved; she wouldn't be sent off to some strange place.