Los Angeles, CA 90001
United States of America
Earth
Engines roared beyond the university gates. Students poured out in waves—some laughing, others shouting. A few hurried toward cars or bikes, tossing bags into trunks or fixing helmets onto their heads, while others walked with earbuds in enjoying the music and the freedom of the day ending.
The parking lot was filled with expensive cars and sleek motorbikes. Some students revved their engines, racing their friends as they left campus
A voice shouted from a group near the steps of the main building, "Yo, Clint! That three-point shot earlier was crazy, bro!"
Another one added, "You carried the whole game again! Third time this week, MVP!"
"Clint's unstoppable, man! I swear, he's gonna go pro after graduation," someone else said while tossing a basketball in the air and catching it.
In the middle of the group, a tall guy with messy dark hair and confident smile slung his backpack over his shoulder, wearing a black varsity jacket with the university logo, and even though he looked relaxed, his presence pulled attention like gravity.
"Third year and already the star of the whole school," another student whispered as Clint walked past, tapping fists with a few guys and giving a nod to a few girls who waved at him with bright smiles.
Clint gave a small laugh as he caught the basketball one of his teammates tossed toward him, spinning it once in his hand before passing it back and slinging his backpack over his shoulder again.
"Let's play again tomorrow!" Clint said, his voice calm and a little tired but still friendly, like someone used to being around people all day.
"Sure, bro!" one of them shouted, while another grinned and added, "Same time after class?"
"Yeah," Clint nodded, then turned around, heading toward the side of the parking lot where his motorbike was waiting, black and sleek with a blue stripe on the side, standing out even among the expensive cars.
As soon as he was a few steps away, the group behind him suddenly moved, almost at the same time, like they had been holding something in.
Three of them reached into their wallets and groaned as they pulled out cash, handing it to a guy in a red cap who was already smirking and holding out his hand confidently.
"Damn it," one of them muttered, slapping the money into his palm.
"I still can't believe he's not gay. He's too damn cute for a guy."
"Yeah, I was sure he was! I mean he's clean, and—did you see that smile? That's not fair," another one complained while handing over their money too.
The guy in the red cap counted the bills with a wide grin and said, "Told you. He's not gay."
"What the hell, man, how are you so sure?" one of them asked, annoyed.
Red Cap guy laughed and said, "Idiot. My sister is his ex."
Everyone froze for a second. "…What?"
The moment the guy with the red cap stuffed the money into his pocket and gave that smug grin, the others snapped out of their shock and jumped toward him almost at the same time.
"You idiot! That's why you were so confident in betting!" one of them shouted while trying to grab his collar.
"Give the money back! You cheated!" another one yelled as he reached for the cash in his jacket.
"Hey—HEY! A deal is a deal!" the guy laughed loudly, already backing away while raising both hands like he was innocent, then suddenly turned and ran down the sidewalk, waving one hand over his head.
"You bet, you pay, suckers!"
"JUST HOW MANY YOU FOOLED, BRO?!" someone shouted after him, almost tripping as he chased.
The guy glanced back, acting like he was thinking hard, then shrugged and said, "A lot!" before laughing and running even faster, zigzagging between parked bikes and cars.
"GET HIM!"
"HE'S LYING! THERE'S NO WAY!"
All of them ran after him, some slipping on the smooth pavement, some knocking into each other, their voices echoing through the parking lot with a mix of shouting, laughing, and frustration.
As Clint walked out of the university gate, the loud sound of a smooth engine purred just a few feet ahead as a sleek black Lamborghini Urus rolled up and stopped gently by the curb, its glossy body catching the last golden light of the sun, reflecting the sky and buildings like a moving shadow.
The door opened automatically with a soft click, and Clint stepped inside without saying anything, sliding into the back seat where the leather interior wrapped around him like it belonged to someone used to silence and speed.
The driver, dressed in a clean black uniform with white gloves, gave a respectful nod through the mirror as he started the car again, pulling out into the street with a soft hum.
After a few quiet seconds, Clint spoke, his voice relaxed but with that usual tired edge. "Where are they?"
The driver answered smoothly, eyes on the road. "Young Master, Madam Alphine and Sir Rainyer are currently out of the country. Business trip to Europe. They left early this morning and will be gone for at least a week."
Clint nodded slightly, then leaned his head back against the seat. "Alright, Let's go,"
"Yes, Young Master," the driver replied without hesitation.
They passed through tall buildings, evening traffic, and flashing lights until they reached the quiet, private district at the edge of the city where mansions replaced towers and silence replaced honking cars.
They entered the Moon estate through tall gates that opened automatically, passing by fountains and gardens until stopping in front of a large modern mansion.
The moment Clint stepped inside the house, a loud voice greeted him—followed by a slap on the back of his head.
"Lil' bro! Took you so long! Hurry up, let's play already!" said Jethro, his older brother, who had been waiting barefoot in sweatpants, holding two controllers and already jumping in place.
Clint rubbed his head and let out a sigh that turned into a smile. "Chill, Jethro... okay! Let's go."
Clint Alnyr Moon, A 20 years old boy studying third-year college student at Velcrest University and lived a strangely peaceful life for someone whose parents, Alphine and Rainyer Moon, were ranked among the top three billionaires in the country—owning companies that controlled energy, media, and luxury brands around the world.
As they walked toward the massive entertainment room, filled with high-end PCs and a wall-sized screen, Clint waved at one of the maids. "Snacks. Me and Jethro. Thanks."
"Yes, Young Master," she said and left quietly.
Clint's vision suddenly flickered—just for a heartbeat. The room around him seemed darker, like a shadow had passed through the walls.
He blinked. Everything looked normal. Jethro laughed. "You gonna sit there all day, or what?"
Clint picked up the controller. "Yeah… just tired, I guess."