The sun rose slowly over the city, casting golden rays through the tall windows of Mirage Heights. Julian stood shirtless in front of the mirror in the penthouse bathroom, brushing his teeth. He didn't recognize himself anymore.
He had spent the whole night soaking in the silence of wealth—no sirens outside, no landlord banging on the door, no drunk neighbors arguing. Just peace… and power.
The luxury closet inside the bedroom looked like it belonged to a celebrity—tailored suits, designer sneakers, leather jackets, and limited-edition watches. All his size. All new. All his.
He slipped into a dark navy uniform that looked eerily similar to the school's dress code—but ten times more expensive. White shirt with a silk black tie, slim-cut pants that hugged his frame perfectly, a gold pin in the shape of a lion resting over his heart. And the shoes—Italian leather, polished to reflect his new life.
Julian looked in the mirror and smirked.
Gone was the scrawny boy in faded jeans and broken dreams.
Today, he walked into school like a ghost reborn.
---
It was just after 7:45 AM when the black Maybach pulled up to the front gate of Saint Harold's. The engine purred softly as it rolled to a smooth stop. Students were scattered across the courtyard, smoking behind trees, showing off designer bags, flirting beside parked motorcycles, gossiping in tight groups.
When the chauffeur stepped out and opened the rear door, every conversation stopped.
Julian stepped out slowly, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored sleeves.
Whispers began.
"Who's that?"
"No way… is that… Julian?"
"Since when did that loser dress like that?"
"Bro, is that a Maybach?"
Even the security guard, who used to mock him for being poor, straightened up with wide eyes and an awkward salute.
Julian walked past them like a prince returning from exile. He didn't speak. Didn't smile. He simply nodded at the guard and slipped his hands into his pockets, striding toward the main building.
And the real game began.
--
Ms. Hartley was already at the front, writing today's objectives on the smartboard. A sharp, strict woman in her early thirties with perfect posture and a pair of glasses that gave her the face of a librarian—but her long, silk pencil skirts told a different story.
Julian pushed open the door.
The entire class turned.
They stared at his gold watch, his glowing skin, his aura of silent danger.
Lena—the girl who dumped him last month in front of the class for being poor—choked on her gum. Her jaw literally dropped.
Jeff, the class clown who once slapped the back of Julian's head during chemistry, dropped his vape.
Ms. Hartley blinked.
"Julian?"
He nodded. "Morning, Miss."
He walked to his desk at the back—where he had always sat in shame. But this time, he didn't hunch. He didn't hide.
He sat with his legs relaxed, confidence radiating from his every movement.
Ms. Hartley cleared her throat, her eyes flicking over his expensive outfit.
"You're… on time today."
Julian smiled. "Figured I'd take education seriously, Miss."
The girls in the front row blushed. One even bit her lip.
---
By noon, rumors had spread across the school.
"Julian won the lottery."
"No, he's a model now."
"I heard his uncle is a king somewhere."
"No way, bro—he's got a sugar mama!"
They were all wrong.
But they couldn't stop looking.
Girls who never spoke to him suddenly sat beside him, laughed at his dry jokes, twirled their hair and asked if he had a ride home. Lena walked by six times—pretending she didn't see him, but hoping he would call out.
He didn't.
He was too busy watching someone else.
Across the room sat Ariella Swan—17, top student, untouched by the filth of the school's scandals. Her beauty was natural, almost regal. No loud makeup. Just soft skin, warm eyes, and a quiet intensity in her stare. She didn't hang with the fake girls or the rich boys.
She had always pitied Julian. Once, she'd even shared her lunch with him when he forgot his wallet.
Julian never forgot that.
She was staring now. But not out of pity.
Out of curiosity.
He gave her a small nod.
She blinked. Looked away. But her lips curled, just a little.
The game had begun.
---
Julian collapsed on the couch, the city lights twinkling beyond the glass walls. He sipped from a cold bottle of expensive imported water.
His phone buzzed.
A message from the watch:
[Task Completed: "Enter the school in a new form."]
[You have made the first ripple. The past has begun to fear the future.]
[Next Task Unlocks at Midnight.]
He smiled to himself, resting his head back.
The pain of yesterday was still there. But it was being buried. Slowly. With each reward. With each gasp. Each whisper. Each stare of regret from the people who once humiliated him.
Let them watch.
Let them suffer.
This was just the beginning.
---