Chapter 30 || The People We Choose to Trust

Chapter 30: 30 || The People We Choose to Trust

Caden stood before Marcus, who was seated on his bed.

Marcus was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with a muscular build, warm, tan complexion, with golden-brown undertones that complemented his dark brown hair and deep amber eyes. He wore a fitted black short-sleeved shirt that accentuated his chest, shoulders, and upper arms, paired with matching black trousers. Even while sitting casually, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to keeping his body in shape.

He glanced at Caden.

"Have you been paid?"

Caden’s expression soured. "Of course. And guess what? This isn’t even close to what I was supposed to get. Your stupid rating ruined everything!"

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Oh, so you’re going to play mind games with me now?"

Caden folded his arms and turned his face away.

"I thought we were friends, Marcus. Training buddies. But you betrayed me with that pathetic rating."

Marcus blinked.

"We are friends, Caden."

He rose from the bed and approached him.

"But you weren’t expecting me to give you a five-star rating just because of that, were you?"

Caden froze.

His arms slowly dropped to his sides.

"What?"

Marcus stopped in front of him. With their height difference, Caden suddenly felt like a child standing before an adult who was about to scold him.

Marcus rested a hand on his shoulder.

"If it were entirely up to me, I’d give you five stars. You deserve it."

Caden’s eyes brightened slightly.

"But, Caden, you’re a Grent. And you need to remain one."

The colour drained from Caden’s face.

Marcus gave his shoulder a reassuring pat before withdrawing his hand.

"Anyway, forget about the rating. Let’s talk about something else."

Caden lowered his head.

"Meathead..."

The insult escaped in a barely audible whisper.

"Did you say something?"

Caden immediately looked up, forcing a smile onto his face.

"Nothing! I didn’t say anything."

Marcus folded his arms and stared down at him.

"I heard you call me a meathead."

Caden waved both hands frantically.

"No, no! You must have heard wrong. I would never call you a..."

He hesitated.

"A meathead."

Marcus’s expression remained unchanged.

"You’re more of a bastard, actually."

His face darkened.

Caden’s hands fell to his sides.

"This is still about the rating, isn’t it?"

"Yes."

Marcus turned around and returned to his bed. He sat down, resting his hands on his knees as though the conversation had been nothing more than a casual exchange.

"I know what’ll cheer you up. Why don’t you do some exercise?"

Caden stared at him.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

"You could even join me on my morning jogs. Staying fit is good for you."

Caden took a hurried step forward, panic spreading across his face.

"No! There’s absolutely no need for that."

He pointed at himself with both hands.

"Remember? I’m your future mirror! If I start exercising now and become fit, who are you going to look at to see what your future self will look like when you eventually give up training?"

Marcus let out a short laugh.

"You’re a long way from being my future self, Caden. Even if you started exercising today, it’d take you quite a while to develop a physique like mine."

He leaned forward slightly.

"So do as I say and start working out."

Marcus raised a finger.

"One hundred sit-ups, one hundred push-ups—"

Before he could finish, Caden’s eyes filled with tears. He dropped to his knees and clutched Marcus’s legs.

"No, please! I’m begging you! I still haven’t recovered from the protein shake!"

"Time’s running out, Caden."

Caden lifted his tearful face.

"This is because I called you a meathead and a bastard earlier, isn’t it?"

"Yes."

Caden tightened his grip around Marcus’s leg.

"NOOOOOOO!"

...

Cassian sat in his chair, his robe hanging loosely around him, leaving part of his chest exposed. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, and he appeared far too relaxed for someone whose visitor looked ready to start a fight.

"Why the long face?" he asked, glancing at Aria. "You look angry."

Aria stood before him, her obsidian eyes cold.

She held out her phone.

"What’s the meaning of this?"

Cassian glanced at the screen. Her slave rating was displayed prominently.

He let out a quiet sigh.

"Ah. Your rating."

"Why did you rate me so low? You know I deserved better."

Cassian chuckled.

"Is that what this is about? You should’ve expected me to keep your rating low, Aria. The pyramid must remain balanced."

He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely unconcerned.

"Grents below Servitors. Always."

Aria’s grip on her phone tightened.

"Besides," Cassian continued, "I heard three other students from your class received one star."

Her gaze sharpened.

"Were you behind that, too?"

Cassian smiled slyly.

"As much as I’d love to take credit and have you praise me for it, no. It seems their masters were sensible enough to handle their ratings themselves."

He tilted his head, amusement lingering in his eyes.

"Don’t worry, Aria. Perhaps next time I’ll raise yours. Two and a half stars, maybe three. I do have a kind heart, after all."

"Talking to you is meaningless."

Her voice was as sharp as ice.

Aria turned away and headed towards the bed.

Cassian swivelled his chair towards the table and picked up his phone, already losing interest in their conversation.

Behind him, Aria began straightening the rumpled bedding and gathering the clothes scattered across it.

"Oof, looks like I’m hungry," Cassian remarked, tapping his phone. "You should cook something first."

Silence.

Cassian powered on his phone.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Then—

THUD!

A black jacket landed squarely on his head, covering his face.

"Yes, Master."

Cassian chuckled beneath the jacket.

He lifted its edge just enough to peer out and watched Aria walk towards the kitchen.

"Silly girl."

...

The door clicked open.

A hand reached inside and flicked the light switch.

The room brightened instantly.

Aria stepped inside and closed the door behind her before sliding the bolt into place.

She slipped off her shoes and placed them neatly beside the entrance, then crossed the room towards her desk. Books were arranged in orderly stacks at either end of the tabletop.

She dropped her phone onto the desk.

Then she reached behind her head and loosened her hair. The strands fell over her shoulders, freeing her scalp from the tight hold of the black hair tie.

She placed the elastic on the table before quietly making her way into the bathroom.

....

Several minutes later, Aria returned wearing a white shirt and black trousers with white stripes running down the sides.

She approached the desk, picked up the hair tie, and gathered her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head.

Her gaze settled on the book lying atop the others.

How Not to Be Lazy.

She stared at the title for a long moment.

Code’s face surfaced in her thoughts, followed by a familiar succession of images: his head resting on his desk, his eyes closed during lessons, and his apparent ability to fall asleep whenever the opportunity presented itself.

’If there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he has no interest in ascending.’

Her eyes remained on the book.

’He doesn’t care about rankings, reputation, or recognition. And that makes him useful to me.’

Aria pulled out her chair and sat down. She picked up the book, opened it, and turned to the blank first page.

At the bottom-right corner, a single word had been written.

Thanks.

She paused.

Then she turned the page.

’If I can make him trust me, I can eventually convince him to cooperate with my plans.’

Her fingers rested against the edge of the paper as she continued reading her own thoughts.

’I’ll handle the people who need to be handled, and he’ll provide whatever support I need. When the time comes to ascend, I’ll have access to the resources we’ve accumulated together.’

Aria turned to the second Chapter.

Goals and Motivations.

Her expression grew firm.

’I’ll reach the third floor...’

She closed her fingers around the edge of the page.

’...No matter what.’

...

The next morning—

Code stepped into the classroom and slid the door shut behind him.

He passed Aria’s desk without stopping and settled into his seat, placing his bag beside him.

"Good morning."

Aria didn’t answer.

She merely turned another page of the book she was reading.

Code rested his cheek against his palm and surveyed the classroom. Meira and her usual group were chatting among themselves, their conversation carrying easily across the room.

Then Aria spoke.

"Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?"

"No."

Aria’s brows drew together.

’How can he be so indifferent?’

She lowered her eyes to her book, though her attention had already wandered from the page.

"Why won’t you say anything? Are you afraid I’ll see through your lies?"

"No. I just don’t have the energy to waste on explaining myself."

Code shifted his head slightly in his hand.

"Why create a problem by discussing something that isn’t a problem to me?"

Aria’s expression hardened.

"There’s nothing left to discuss, then. I know what kind of person you are now, and I understand what your intentions were last night."

Code gave a small yawn before lowering his head onto his desk.

"If that’s the case, you’d make a pretty bad lawyer."

Aria looked at him.

"What?"

"Judging someone without hearing their side of the story."

Her lips tightened.

"I thought you said you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. I had to draw my own conclusions from what was in front of me."

She turned back to her book.

"Besides, it’s not as if you’d make a good lawyer yourself. You’d probably fall asleep in court and lose the case."

Code offered no response.

For a while, the two sat in silence.

Eventually, Aria glanced sideways at him.

His eyes were closed.

He was already fast asleep.

She stared at him for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before returning to her reading.

Meanwhile, the back door opened.

Torin, Ken, and Caden entered the classroom and headed for their seats.

Caden dropped into his chair and immediately laid his head on the desk without saying a word.

Torin and Ken exchanged puzzled looks.

Ken leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Is everything okay?"

Caden shot upright, clutching his shoulder.

"Owww! Why’d you have to touch my arm?"

Ken froze, his hand still hovering in the air.

"What’s wrong with that?"

Torin blinked.

"If your arm hurts that much, you could’ve gone to the infirmary."

Caden released his shoulder and slumped back in his chair.

"It’s just part of the workout process. The pain’ll fade in a few weeks."

Torin stared at him.

"First the protein shake, and now this? Caden, are you being forced into all this?"

Ken leaned closer.

"Just tell us. We’ll both go and talk to that master of yours."

Caden shook his head.

"It’s fine."

He turned his palm over and studied it, as though the answer to his suffering might somehow be written there.

"I didn’t even finish the workout. I collapsed at..."

He paused, searching his memory.

"Was it twenty?"

Torin and Ken stared at him in disbelief.

"Twenty?" Ken repeated.

Caden nodded weakly.

"I don’t know what happened after that. I just remember waking up in my bed this morning. So Marcus must’ve carried me back to my room."

A small smile appeared on his face.

"He’s nice. Well, not entirely nice. But we’re... cool."

Ken remained unconvinced.

"If you say so. But tell us if he’s mistreating you. We’ll teach him a lesson."

Torin nodded solemnly.

"And make him do a thousand push-ups for putting you through this."

"Thanks, guys."

Caden lowered his head onto the desk again.

"All I need now is some rest. Being ripped isn’t an easy job."

Silence followed.

Torin and Ken exchanged another look before turning their attention towards the rest of the class.