The next class on my schedule was Introductory Monster Ecology.
It used to be led by Ethan, the same professor who almost turned our classroom into a deathtrap.
Now, a substitute had taken over—an older man with tired eyes and an even more tired posture. He introduced himself as Professor Lindel, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. His voice was flat, like he was reading a grocery list.
To say the mood was weird would be an understatement. The entire classroom was filled with unease—awkward glances, hushed whispers, pens tapping on desks out of sync.
Of course, someone had to ask the question we were all thinking.
"Professor," a student in the back raised his hand. "Um... about Professor Ethan... what happened to him?"
Professor Lindel paused mid-sentence, then slowly looked up from the textbook.
"I’m not at liberty to discuss that matter," he said curtly, adjusting his glasses. "Please focus on today’s lesson."
Another hand went up.
"Is it true he was arrested?"
Professor Lindel didn’t answer. He just gave a long, exhausted sigh and turned to the blackboard.
That didn’t stop the questions, though.
"Did you know him personally?"
"Was he always like that?"
"Did they say what he did after being taken in?"
"What about his research? Are we still using it?"
Lindel finally turned around and gave a sharp look that shut most people up.
"I understand you’re all curious," he said, voice steady now. "But this class is about monsters, not gossip. If you want to discuss former faculty, do it outside."
But even if the questions had stopped out loud, they were still buzzing in everyone’s heads. Ethan’s shadow lingered—he had been intense, terrifying, but undeniably skilled. Part of me wondered if some students missed his way of teaching. Not the sadistic bits, of course—but the depth, the challenge.
I stared down at my notebook and sighed.
Not a single word written.
Class was almost over, and I’d spent the entire lecture zoning out—again. I scribbled a few half-hearted lines just for the sake of it before the substitute instructor wrapped things up and left the classroom.
Students filed out one by one, chatting among themselves about the new instructor, the old one, and everything in between. But I stayed in my seat. Not because I was particularly interested in this classroom or anything, but because I’d promised someone I’d wait here.
Someone who didn’t get the chance to talk to me earlier thanks to Ryen’s "you-shall-not-pass" squad.
And right on cue, the door creaked open.
Leo strolled in, same confident posture, two drinks in hand.
"You’re late, you know that?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
...That’s it? No ’Sorry’? No ’I got held up’? Typical Leo.
I rolled my eyes, but decided to let it slide. Why? Because one of those drinks he was holding out to me was ice-cold Cola.
In this heat, that was enough of a peace offering.
Leo, on the other hand, casually took a sip of his.
"What are you drinking?"
...Right. Leo usually went for those bitter espresso or americano types when trying to look cool, but when he was with people he actually trusted, he didn’t bother hiding his sweet tooth.
Noted. Let’s pretend I didn’t notice that.
He sat across from me and, to my surprise, started off without beating around the bush.
"First, I want to apologize for suddenly calling you out . I figured you might’ve had other plans. It’s just... not exactly easy to talk to you with those guys glued to your side all day."
I blinked. He actually apologized.
Well, not for being late, but I’d take what I could get.
"I understand," I said simply.
And I did. It wasn’t that I was avoiding him—he just didn’t want to approach the impenetrable fortress that was Ryen and his clingy crew.
To be honest, if Lilac suddenly suggested we all hang out together, like she did in the original timeline, I was pretty sure Ryen and Leo’s relationship would hit the rocks all over again.
Leo leaned back a little, nursing his drink.
"It’s nothing too serious," he said. "But there are a few things I wanted to ask you. Privately."
I tilted my head, curious.
He looked at me for a second, as if gauging how much to say. Then he finally spoke.
"About Ethan. And about you."
I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the fizz tickle my throat before answering.
"There’s nothing to talk about," I said, staring out the window. "Other than that psychopath, killer bastard."
Leo didn’t flinch at my words—but he didn’t look surprised, either.
"Figured you’d say that," he murmured, swirling his cup slightly. "But I had to ask."
I leaned back in my chair, my eyes still fixed on the cloudless sky beyond the glass.
"You want some deeper insight?" I muttered. "There is none. He was nuts. Charismatic, yeah. Smart? Absolutely. But that’s what made it worse. He knew what he was doing. Every choice, every class, every lesson—it wasn’t just education. It was manipulation."
Leo was quiet for a moment.
"I heard he used to be respected," he said.
I scoffed. "And that’s exactly why nobody saw it coming. He didn’t flip a switch overnight. He just... cracked louder than the rest."
There was a beat of silence between us. The kind that made the buzzing light in the ceiling feel a little too loud.
"There’s nothing noble about what he did," I said, voice firmer than I expected. "No misunderstood genius arc. No tragic backstory that excuses turning students into experiments. The guy belongs where he is—gone."
Leo didn’t press further. He just nodded slowly, like he understood.
Or maybe like he’d heard all he needed to.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Now my next question."
"What is it? Hurry up already."
"Are you going to join Ryen’s team?"
Ahh! Fuck I know that this was his real purpose!