Although the global trading and e-commerce department building was architecturally big and marvelous, there wasn't anyone entering or exiting the building at all.
Philip entered the eerily quiet building with his single-strap leather bag slung over his shoulder.
The automatic glass door opened smoothly without producing any creaking or squeaking sound when he stood near the sensor.
After he stepped inside, there was a solid wall directly ahead and a hallway extending sideways, taking a sharp turn at the corner.
Right in front of the entrance, a transparent lectern made of glass was positioned. Its base was elegantly curved upward, and at the top was a digital display screen with a textbox and a search button beside it.
Philip looked around for a moment, taking in the empty space, and decided to enter his student ID number.
After he finished his input and pressed the search button, his name alongside his official photo was instantly displayed on the screen.
Beside it was today's date and an unchecked box, which instantly changed into a checked box with a satisfying chime.
'Woah.' Philip was taken slightly aback, blinking at the screen.
'Well, that was neat. Does this screen have the ability to scan my face and automatically mark my attendance for me?'
Philip was genuinely amused by the sophisticated facility system.
After the screen reverted back to its default display, Philip walked alongside the pristine hallway and turned at the corner.
As he walked past the transparent classrooms with their floor-to-ceiling glass walls, he discovered that there was nobody attending class in any of them.
The classrooms all had four to six ergonomic chairs arranged in curved sets, all of them facing the screen—which was actually the glass wall itself, capable of displaying presentations.
Even after he reached the end of the long hallway and checked every single classroom, there was absolutely no one to be found.
"Hey!"
Just as he was about to make his way up to the second floor via the sleek staircase, a sharp voice called out to him from the other end of the hallway.
"What are you doing here? Are you even from this department?" an old man, about in his sixties, was walking furiously from the other side of the hallway, his face red.
He wore a checkered pullover sweater and a short-sleeve shirt underneath it.
His hair was completely white, and a bald spot that was poorly hidden with a combover could be clearly seen on his head.
"Don't you know you can't just enter everywhere as you please! Tell me your name and department right now," the old man said, clutching his attendance register. He was absolutely furious.
He furrowed his brows immensely and had to look up since Philip was considerably taller than him.
'This is one of the reasons why I don't trust uncivilized students—wandering everywhere as they please.'
'And this kid even dared to enter an elite's building. No shame at all,' the old man was already cursing internally.
Philip, who was confronted so aggressively out of nowhere, was even more confused as to why there were no students in his department building. And to top it off, he was being ranted at out of nowhere by this old man who seemed to have an extremely short fuse.
It couldn't help but make him wonder—was he really in the correct department building?
He did clearly see the building's front entrance sign read out his department name.
Without showing his confusion on his face, he calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out his student ID.
"My name is Philip Whitmore, first year in the global trading and e-commerce department."
"I arrived a few days later than scheduled due to some unforeseen accidents, and today is my first day," Philip said, handing over his ID while lowering his gaze to meet the man's eyes without lowering his chin.
This was a specific gesture he'd studied and practiced before so he would not seem at a loss in moments like this. It also added to his look of confidence and superiority against anyone he would interact with.
The old man, who had been yelling just seconds ago, quickly regained his composure when he heard the word "Whitmore."
His eyes widened dramatically in shock, and he stared blankly into the wall as if searching for answers written on it, while his head position remained frozen in the same spot.
He took the ID card handed to him with trembling fingers, gave it a quick but thorough inspection to confirm his terrible suspicions, and gave it back in one smooth, practiced motion.
He finally took one long, deep sigh and forced out the most pleasing smile he could possibly manage.
"Eheh, if it isn't someone from the prestigious Whitmore family coming to attend Ashford! We couldn't be any more proud and honored with you coming here," he said, spreading his arms wide to exaggerate his words even more dramatically.
"I'm the vice principal, Ronald Fitz. You can come to me directly if you ever find yourself having any doubts or concerns," he said as he clasped his hands back together tightly. His earlier aggressive demeanor was absolutely nowhere to be found.
"I see. I am thankful," Philip replied, still maintaining his stern, neutral expression.
Philip had initially thought the man would simply be a substitute teacher or some ordinary staff member. But when he heard "vice principal," he instantly tensed up internally.
As Ronald was speaking so happily as well, as if desperately trying to curry favor—Philip had always been terrible at these types of interactions with older authority figures. It was that awkward zone that could be considered formal but not truly formal, yet wasn't informal enough where he could crack jokes to ease the tension.
Lucas was usually with him at times like this to handle the conversation. And now that he was alone, he knew he would run out of appropriate words to say sooner or later.
"And I believe I am where I'm supposed to be?" Philip asked with a questioning expression, side-eyeing Ronald as he said it.
He meant to ask if this was indeed the correct global trading and e-commerce department building. But he'd messed up his wording and phrased it awkwardly like that instead.
Ronald, who suddenly saw Philip side-eye him with that intense look, staring straight into him—he felt an actual chill run down his spine.
'Is he confronting me about my aggressive statement earlier? Asking me if I now see him as worthy to enter this department only after learning his identity? Is that what he meant by that?' Ronald's mind was spinning in a complete mess.
He'd heard in the past, various news stories about the sole heir of Whitmore causing scenes and making headlines.
The news had portrayed young Philip as someone who was not afraid of ruining his own reputation and confronting whoever he wanted, no matter their position.
Although no major news had been made in the past four years, Ronald had recently heard fresh rumors about Philip cursing out and blackmailing news reporters when they'd confronted him after Derrick Belmont's death.
The question rose urgently in Ronald's panicked mind: Was Philip about to revert to his old, volatile self now that he'd lost his close friend? And was Ronald about to become a new victim who would later make the evening news?
"Of course you are! You are exactly where you are meant to be! Who else could possibly be called fit for this place if not for you?" Ronald praised enthusiastically, putting on a wide smile while cold sweat ran down his back.
He even almost flinched visibly when Philip moved his hand slightly to adjust his shirt, thinking he was about to get physically hit. But he managed to stop his body from reacting.
"I see," Philip simply answered, folding his arms across his chest and staring at Ronald, who kept nodding enthusiastically at his own words.
'This old man has gotta be bad news. You could've simply confirmed that this is indeed the global trading and e-commerce department.'
'Why does he have to shout and say all that unnecessary stuff?' Philip thought in genuine confusion.
He wanted to ask again where all the students actually were, but he hesitated, fearing he would get the same loud, over-the-top response and wouldn't know how to react appropriately.
Fortunately, Ronald was the first one to speak up again, breaking the awkward silence.
"You might not know this yet, but today there is a combined session for all first-year students, which is being held in the main gymnasium."
"Several students from second and third years will be attending and hosting a recruitment program for different clubs and organizations."
"Some high-class students sometimes attend these events, but no elite students usually attend. They do not find the need to join such trivial extracurricular activities, so they just left campus right after coming in to check their attendance near the entrance," Ronald explained it all in one rushed breath, desperate to leave this uncomfortable situation behind as soon as humanly possible.
"If you would like, I can personally lead you to the gymnasium," Ronald offered. He was about to head there anyway for supervision, and he asked out of pure politeness—fully believing that Philip would certainly reject his offer. After all, he'd never heard of a single elite-class student attending a club recruitment program.
"Sure."
The single word that came out of Philip's mouth truly shocked Ronald to his very core, his eyes widening.
'Being personally led by a teacher again? It hasn't even been that long to call it a déjà vu,' Philip thought to himself with internal amusement.