Chapter 33: Puny Rank F

Jelo only took a minute to stare at the closed door of the janitor’s closet. Behind it, he could still hear muffled shouting—Atlas’s angry cursing and Ken’s frustrated demands to be let out. The sounds were getting more desperate, more furious with each passing second.

But Jelo forced himself to turn away.

He couldn’t think about that right now. Couldn’t let the guilt consume him. He had a mission to complete, a quest the system had given him, and that burning obsession in his chest wouldn’t let him rest until it was done.

He moved quickly down the corridor, his enhanced senses tracking the path Garin and his friend had taken. His improved vision from leveling up and consuming the Dabba heart made it easier to spot the small details—scuff marks on the floor, the faint echo of footsteps ahead, the way the air moved in the direction they’d gone.

Jelo followed carefully, maintaining enough distance that he wouldn’t be spotted but staying close enough that he wouldn’t lose them.

As he walked, his mind was already working through the logistics of what came next. He only needed Garin to part ways with his friend and be alone. That was the key. As long as the stocky boy was with him, Jelo couldn’t make his move. Two against one was manageable with his current stats, but it would be messy, loud, and more likely to attract attention.

No, he needed Garin isolated. Vulnerable. Alone.

The minutes ticked by as Jelo continued his pursuit through the academy’s corridors. The older section gradually transitioned back into the more modern, frequently used areas. More students appeared, moving between classes or heading back to their dormitories for the evening.

Jelo had to be more careful now, staying further back, using other students as cover when he could. Garin and his friend were still talking as they walked, occasionally laughing about something, completely unaware they were being followed.

And then, finally, it happened.

They reached an intersection where the corridors split. Garin’s stocky friend said something Jelo couldn’t quite hear, clapped Garin on the shoulder with his good arm—the one that wasn’t in a sling—and turned left down a different hallway.

Garin waved casually and continued straight ahead, now completely alone.

Perfect.

Jelo felt his pulse quicken, that familiar rush of adrenaline mixing with the system’s burning obsession for revenge. This was his chance.

He watched as Garin began walking toward the dormitory area. The path made sense—they were in the same class, so their assigned rooms would be in similar locations. Jelo knew these corridors well by now, had walked them countless times since arriving at the academy.

And he knew exactly where he could strike.

Jelo quickly adjusted his plan in his mind. There was a secluded area by one of the staircases that connected different floors of the dormitory building. It was a spot that most students bypassed because there was a faster route using the elevator, and the stairwell itself was older, less well-lit, with fewer security cameras covering the angles.

It was perfect for an ambush.

Jelo picked up his pace slightly, moving with purpose now. He needed to get there first, to position himself correctly. Garin was walking at a leisurely pace, still completely unaware of the danger following him.

The layout of the academy worked in Jelo’s favor. There was a shortcut through a maintenance corridor that would let him reach the staircase area ahead of Garin without being seen. Jelo took it, moving quickly but quietly through the dimly lit passage.

He emerged near the staircase just as he’d planned, tucking himself into a shadowed corner where he could wait. His heart was pounding now, his muscles tense and ready. The system quest burned in the back of his mind like a brand, urging him forward, demanding completion.

Thirty seconds later, Jelo heard footsteps approaching.

Garin appeared around the corner, still alone, his injured arm still in its sling. He was looking down at his wrist device, scrolling through something, not paying attention to his surroundings.

Jelo stepped out from the shadows.

“Garin,” he called out, his voice clear and loud in the empty stairwell area.

Garin’s head snapped up immediately, surprise flashing across his face. His eyes widened when he saw who had called his name, and that surprise quickly morphed into irritation.

“You,” Garin said, his voice dripping with disdain. His posture shifted, becoming more aggressive despite his injury. “What the hell do you want?”

The fact that a lowly rank F student was confident enough to call out his name so loudly, to stand there without fear or deference, clearly bothered Garin immensely. His pride was already wounded from being humiliated in weapons class, and now this weakling had the audacity to approach him directly?

“What do I want?” Jelo repeated, a cold smile forming on his face. “Not much. Just wanted to have a chat.”

“A chat?” Garin scoffed, taking a step forward. “Listen, rank F. I don’t know what kind of delusion you’re operating under, but you caught me off guard in weapons class. That’s the only reason you got that lucky hit. Don’t think for a second that makes you my equal.”

“I’m not here to talk about equality,” Jelo said calmly, his voice steady despite the fire burning in his chest.

Garin’s eyes narrowed. “Then what are you here for?”

“Just be patient,” Jelo said, his smile widening slightly. “You’re about to get beat up.”

For a moment, there was complete silence. Garin just stared at Jelo like he’d lost his mind.

Then Garin snorted, the sound full of genuine disbelief and amusement. “You?” he said, pointing at Jelo with his good hand. “You’re going to beat me up? You? A rank F super with stats so low you probably couldn’t hurt a practice dummy?”

He shook his head, laughing now. “Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? You got one lucky shot in class because I wasn’t expecting it. But now?” Garin’s expression hardened. “Now I’m ready. Now I know you’re willing to fight dirty.”

He took another step closer, his voice dropping to something more threatening. “Besides being rank F, I’m absolutely sure you have no formal combat training. You move like someone who’s never been in a real fight before. So tell me, rank F—how exactly do you plan to beat me?”

Jelo’s smirk didn’t waver. In fact, it grew.

He started walking closer to Garin, his movements casual, unhurried. Each step was deliberate, confident, the kind of confidence that came from knowing something your opponent didn’t.

Garin’s expression shifted slightly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Something about Jelo’s demeanor was off, wrong. This wasn’t how a rank F student should be acting. This wasn’t the behavior of someone who was outmatched and outclassed.

“What are you—” Garin started to say.

He never finished the sentence.

Without warning, without telegraphing the movement, Jelo launched a punch directly at Garin’s face.

The speed was incredible—far beyond what a rank F student should be capable of. Jelo’s fist shot forward like a striking snake, covering the distance between them in a fraction of a second.

Garin’s eyes went wide with shock.

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