Marcus walked toward the Student Council office at a measured pace, his thoughts racing ahead of him. What would she ask? What would she expect from him? Every possible question replayed in his mind as he checked the time on his phone.
7:58 PM.
He stopped at the entrance, straightened his posture, and waited.
The seconds crawled.
8:00 PM.
Marcus raised his hand and knocked.
After a brief pause, the door opened.
Isabella Quinn stood there.
Surprise flickered across her face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Every time she saw Marcus lately, something felt different. His posture was steadier. His presence sharper. Even the exhaustion that should have clung to him after everything he had endured seemed muted.
He looks better again, she thought.
Isabella brushed the thought aside.
"Marcus," she said, stepping aside. "Come in."
He greeted her politely and entered the office. The space was neat and controlled, just like her. Files were stacked with precision, the lighting warm but focused.
She locked the door behind him and gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.
They sat.
Isabella did not waste time.
"I've been thinking about the dean's response," she said, folding her arms. "Or the lack of one."
Marcus remained silent.
"When the administration refuses to act," she continued evenly, "it doesn't mean the problem disappears. It just means power has to be applied somewhere else."
She met his eyes directly.
"Brody Kingston and his friends think they're untouchable," Isabella said. "I won't let this happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone."
Something tightened in Marcus's chest.
"So," she exhaled slowly, "I'm going to humble them."
She paused, thinking.
"First idea. We push for a public mediation session. Force Brody to apologize on record."
She shook her head almost immediately.
"No. That won't work. He'll turn it into a PR win. His father will spin it as taking responsibility."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
"Second. I use my council authority to launch an official review of past complaints against them."
Another shake of her head.
"Too slow. The dean will bury it before it even starts."
She sighed.
"Third. Anonymous tips to the campus paper using details from your report."
"No. They'll trace it back to me or to you. Retaliation would be worse."
She leaned back, rubbing her temple.
"Fourth. I confront Brody privately. Threaten to go to the board with everything I know."
A humorless breath escaped her.
"That's useless. He'll laugh. He knows no one on the board will touch the Kingston name."
Her gaze hardened.
"Fifth. We wait for him to slip up again and catch it on video."
She fell silent, frustration written clearly on her face.
"No," Isabella muttered. "None of these work. I'm not thinking straight tonight."
She looked at Marcus, tired but burning with resolve.
"I'm fed up," she said quietly. "Brody and his friends have been doing this for years. Hurting people. Getting away with it. They need to face real consequences."
She straightened suddenly.
"Brody's throwing a party this weekend. Saturday night. A private penthouse downtown that his family owns."
Marcus listened closely.
"Invitation-only," she continued. "Inner circle. Their girlfriends. A few trusted rich kids. No outsiders."
She met his gaze.
"I always get invited. It keeps the friendly relations between our families."
A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.
"If you're interested, you can come with me. As my plus-one. They'll let you in just to mock you, but once you're there, look for any opening. Anything. I don't care how. I just want them to feel it."
The rage Marcus had carried since the hospital flared hot and sharp.
He did not hesitate.
"I'm in."
Isabella nodded, approval sparking in her eyes.
"Good. Saturday night. I'll send you the location and time. Meet me an hour early. We'll go together."
She stood, signaling the meeting was over, though her voice softened slightly.
"Be careful," she said. "But don't hold back."
Marcus rose as well.
"I won't."
He turned and left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Then the system interface appeared.
[Task Completed: Secure Private Counsel]
[Requirements Met: 60+ Minutes Alone | Shared Objective Established]
[Rewards Granted: +200 System Points | $2000]
[Current SP: 201]
Before Marcus could process it, the interface flashed again.
[System Recommendation Detected]
Host dominance potential elevated.
Recommended Upgrades for High-Density Social Encounter:
• Look and Presence +3
• Seduction Control +5
• Body and Endurance +2
• Power and Protection +2
Cost: 200 SP
Purpose: Maximize influence and survival probability at limited-access event.
Marcus accepted.
======================
UPGRADE PATHS
======================
Look and Presence: 5 / 5
Body and Endurance: 3 / 5
Seduction Control: 5 / 5
Power and Protection: 2 / 5
======================
The changes hit immediately.
Marcus walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing softly as the door to the Student Council office faded behind him.
As he moved, his mind replayed the conversation. Isabella's resolve. The risk she was taking. The fire in her eyes when she spoke about Brody.
Then he remembered his friends.
Watch your back.
Text us when you're done.
Don't go quiet.
He pulled out his phone and opened the group chat.
Marcus: Meeting went well. I'm fine. Heading home now.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Leo: Thank God.
Calvin: Good. Stay alert.
Tyson: Call if anything feels off.
Marcus typed a simple reply.
Marcus: I will.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued toward his apartment.
The night air was cool, the streetlights casting long reflections across the pavement. As he walked, Marcus became aware of something strange.
Eyes.
Not the hostile stares from campus. Not whispers fueled by gossip.
These were different.
A pair of girls walking past slowed slightly, one of them glancing back twice before whispering something that made the other laugh. A woman near a parked car looked him up and down without any attempt to hide it.
Marcus frowned.
This was not campus. These people did not know him. They had not seen the video Chase posted.
So why?
He shifted uncomfortably.
The system's voice surfaced calmly in his mind.
[System Prompt: Visual Self-Assessment Recommended.]
Marcus stopped.
Beside him, a storefront window reflected the streetlights like dark glass. He turned toward it.
And froze.
The man staring back at him barely resembled the version of himself from days ago.
His shoulders were broader now, filling out his jacket naturally. His posture was straight without effort, confidence settling into his frame like it belonged there. His chest was defined, his waist lean, his movements controlled.
His face had changed too.
His jawline was sharper, more defined, giving him a mature edge. His cheekbones stood out subtly, his eyes clearer and more focused. The tired, hollow look was gone. Even his hair had changed, thicker and slightly tousled in a way that looked intentional rather than careless.
He did not look like a bullied student anymore.
He looked like someone people noticed.
Marcus swallowed.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath.
The realization hit him slowly.
The system had not just been helping him survive.
It had already started transforming him.
Still unsettled, Marcus turned away and headed toward a nearby convenience store. His mind needed grounding, something normal.
The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside.
The store was quiet. Empty.
Except for the cashier.
She looked up from her phone, mid-scroll, and froze for half a second before straightening.
"Oh, hi," she said, smiling automatically.
Marcus grabbed a basket and moved through the aisles, picking up snacks, bottled drinks, and a few essentials he had been putting off buying. When he reached the counter, the cashier was already watching him.
She scanned the items, then glanced up.
"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked casually.
"Not really," Marcus replied.
She tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You have that campus vibe. But different."
Marcus chuckled softly. "Different how?"
She smiled, clearly more relaxed now. "Like someone who just changed something big in his life."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is it that obvious?"
She laughed. "A little."
She finished scanning and told him the total. Marcus paid without thinking, the system's earlier reward flashing briefly through his mind.
As she handed him the bag, she hesitated.
"Hey," she said. "This might be random, but you seem interesting."
Marcus met her eyes. Calm. Grounded.
"Thanks," he said simply.
She bit her lip, then pushed a small receipt toward him, scribbling something quickly.
"If you're ever bored," she said, "text me."
He glanced at the number, then nodded.
"Sure."
They exchanged a brief smile, and Marcus headed for the door.
Outside, the night felt different.
Lighter. Controlled.
As he walked home, snacks in hand, one thought settled clearly in his mind.
Saturday was not just about revenge.
It was about stepping into a version of himself that no one could ignore anymore.
And this time, he was ready.