Nuoding Academy.
The gates loomed high with ivy creeping along the outer walls, giving it the kind of aesthetic you'd expect from a small noble's estate rather than a school. To Ben, it felt like walking into an overpriced boarding school that served dry bread and called it gourmet.
Grandpa Jack patted him on the shoulder. "I'll take care of your enrollment. Just wait over there, Ben."
Ben nodded, eyes half-lidded, bags under them deeper than some people's entire character arcs. He slumped onto a nearby bench and did what he did best.
Absolutely nothing.
About half an hour later, Ben was handed a student token, a change of simple clothes, and a notice.
Student Classification: Work-Study Student
Dormitory Assignment: Dorm 7
"Work-study…?" he muttered.
As he trudged toward the far side of the academy, Ben passed through clusters of better-dressed children, most of whom gave him a once-over and then promptly dismissed his very existence. Must be nice to be rich and moisturized, he thought.
Eventually, he arrived at the legendary Dormitory 7.
A squat building tucked away like the academy's shameful secret. Its roof tiles were chipped, the paint was peeling, and the wooden door had a stubborn creak that sounded like it was judging you.
He stepped inside.
"Oi! Who's the new kid?"
Ben blinked as a boy slightly older than him marched up. He had short, bristly hair and a square jaw that screamed my dad was in the military. His posture was stiff, like he ironed his spine before arriving.
"I'm Wang Sheng," he said proudly. "Boss of Dorm 7."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Why does a dorm need a boss?"
"Because this is the jungle," Wang Sheng said, crossing his arms. "And the strongest rules."
"Cool," Ben said, already mentally checking out. "Where's the hay pile?"
Wang Sheng's eyes narrowed. "Don't ignore me! New students have to prove themselves. I challenge you to a duel!"
Ben sighed. "Can't I just... lose by default?"
"No!" the dorm boys shouted from the background, rallying like bored gamblers about to place bets.
"Alright, alright," Ben said, dragging himself upright. "Let's get this over with."
The kids formed a circle in the courtyard behind the dorm.
Wang Sheng summoned his Martial Soul first—a Battle Tiger, visible as a faint golden aura around his body. It gave him a sharp physical boost in both strength and speed. Textbook aggressive-type enhancement.
Ben stood across from him, cracking his neck.
The Nexus Core glowed in his chest, casting a soft red radiance. The Armed Nexus bracers formed along his arms, sleek and metallic with faint, glowing lines. He looked like a superhero… who hadn't slept in three days.
The other kids oohed in awe.
Wang Sheng's expression faltered. "What kind of Martial Soul is that…?"
Ben shrugged. "Body-type."
Wang Sheng, realizing his window of intimidation was closing, charged in. "Tiger Pounce!"
Ben instinctively moved, but his timing was off.
His limbs were quick—too quick. His body-enhancing Martial Soul betrayed him. He wasn't used to this kind of boost. His center of gravity tilted wrong, his body overextended, and the world spun.
Wang Sheng's shoulder smashed into Ben's gut and sent him flying across the yard.
Thud.
"Urgh…"
He groaned as he hit the ground. Somewhere inside his skull, his frontal lobe let out a sad little whimper.
Ben raised one hand. "I'm dead. Bury me in the hay pile."
Victor: Wang Sheng.
Despite the loss, there was no ridicule. Dorm 7 boys respected the rules of the jungle—Wang Sheng was still boss, but Ben had earned a modicum of awe for surviving the hit. That, and nobody wanted to mess with the creepy glowing guy who said he enjoyed pain.
Later that night, as the dorm lights dimmed and snoring filled the cramped space, Wang Sheng approached Ben with a nod.
"You've got guts. Even if you lost, you stood up."
Ben, curled up like a shrimp in the hay, mumbled, "Standing was a mistake."
Wang Sheng laughed. "Welcome to Dorm 7."
The next morning, the dorm's supervisor gave the new students a lecture.
Work-study students were orphans or commoners accepted into the academy via recommendation or sponsorship. In exchange for free tuition, they performed chores: sweeping, food prep, stable cleaning, and more. It was an uphill battle, but some of the continent's strongest had started from here.
Ben listened with half an ear while experimenting with balancing a potato on his bracer.
"Work hard," the supervisor finished. "You may not be nobles, but spirit power does not discriminate."
Ben glanced at his glowing core.
"Oh yeah?" he whispered. "Then let's see what you've got."