Homeroom started like a sluggish beast finally roused. The teacher took roll call, name by name, until she reached mine.
"Fan Yumei?"
A pause.
The teacher looked up from her roster. "You're new. Introduce yourself to the class."
I stood without hesitation. Lufei shifted slightly in my lap, and Maxius peeked one eye open from where he rested on my shoulder, still playing lazily with a strand of my hair.
"I'm Fan Yumei. Awakening type: soul functions and Elemental Caller. Professions: Beastmaster, Beast Healer, and Rune Master—awakened last week. Six-star license holder."
It was brief. Direct. Military.
As whispers broke out across the classroom, I calmly lifted my hand and tapped the face of my Federation-issued license ring. A soft, metallic pulse of qi rippled outward, projecting a thin blue hologram in the air beside me.
[Fan Yumei | Dual Core | Triple Profession | Six-Star Rank]
Professions: Beastmaster, Beast Healer, Rune Master
Class License: Federation Certified – A+
The teacher's eyes widened slightly. She leaned forward for a better look, brows lifting as the credentials flickered in the light. Then she gave a small, approving nod and returned to her roster.
The silence that followed felt like a wave retreating from the shore—and then crashing back as the classroom buzzed with whispers.
"She said six-star?"
"No way a mortal-born hit six stars in one week."
"Wait—wait, isn't that the girl from the registration center? The one with the whale?"
"Oh crap, yeah. The one who nearly flattened Feiyan with that tail flick?"
Laughter rippled through a small cluster of students in the back, low and biting.
"She didn't even move, bro. Just said the beast's name and whoosh—Feiyan went flying."
"I heard she talks to her beasts like they're people."
"She named that cloud monster Mystic. That's some freak behavior right there."
"I heard her eagle beast is incomplete and it's crippled with one wing. Poor girl. Her beast probably won't live long."
Another scuff of laughter followed, sharp and ugly—like these kids had nothing better to do but dissect what they didn't understand.
Maxius's grip on my braid tightened just slightly. I reached up and patted him gently without breaking rhythm on my rune theory worksheet.
I hadn't asked him yet why people's comments about his wings affected him so deeply. But I would. When we had the time and space, I'd ask him properly. Because I knew—instinctively—that something was there. Something tender beneath that cool-eyed precision of his.
"Don't mind them," I murmured, just for him. "They can't see what matters."
Maxius tilted his head into my palm. One of his wings—his left—was folded neatly against my shoulder, soft feathers fluffed with irritation. The other was… invisible. Phantom. Not missing. Just beyond the naked eye.
But it was there. I'd felt it when he shielded me once during a training exercise. A ripple of pressure. A weight. A wing.
Lufei blinked slowly, tail flicking, and continued napping across my lap like a queen in repose.
I didn't flinch. Not even a twitch. Just calmly pulled out my notebook and flipped to the first assignment page. Rune theory today—not math. I scribbled down a few lines of ward activation script while pretending not to hear the girl whisper to her desk partner:
"She probably trained it to do that. You know. Sickos always start with animals."
I smiled politely without looking up.
Lufei lifted her head slightly, green eyes glowing with a faint shimmer. Maxius paused mid-tug, feathers flaring faintly. They didn't lash out—they didn't need to.
The pressure was enough.
A hush crept back in like fog—uneasy, uncertain.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed the only person who hadn't moved an inch was the boy with the unreadable face. He hadn't laughed. Hadn't whispered.
Just… watched.
And when I met his eyes, I didn't see judgment.
Just curiosity.
So I nodded once.
Then went back to scribing the rune theory equation in front of me like I hadn't just been called a freak.
Because freaks survive longer.
And I had no intention of dying normal.
⸻
Lufei curled up in my lap, breathing soft and steady, while Maxius resumed his hair-braiding routine on my right. I scribbled through the rune theory section when the chair beside me scraped against the floor.
I didn't even glance up. That desk had been empty since roll call—everyone too afraid to sit near the so-called "mortal trash miracle." But the sound was different now—closer.
Someone was sitting next to me.
I flicked my eyes over.
It was him. The boy from earlier. Same calm face, same unreadable eyes.
I didn't say anything. Just continued my work, lips quirking as I reached into my space bracelet for a pack of roasted nut crisps and dried spiritfruit. One for me, one for Maxius, one for Lufei. A small snack pile bloomed between paperwork and scribbled rune script.
The atmosphere shifted—quiet, oddly grounded. The teacher gave us a few glances, clearly surprised by how focused I was and how well-behaved my soul beasts were. She nodded in approval before returning to her notes.
Maxius hopped down from my shoulder without prompting, scooped up the snack wrappers, and marched over to the trash bin. He tossed them in like a tiny, proud soldier and then made his way back, climbing to my shoulder like he belonged there—which, well, he did.
I opened another snack pouch, this one filled with golden sugar crisps, when I felt it—that stare.
You know the kind. The one that burns into the side of your face like someone was using laser focus to set your cheek on fire.
I tried to ignore it.
But something about it felt familiar—like the stare of "Little Foodie," a young lieutenant from my old barricade squad who could detect snacks across a battlefield. And if food wasn't involved, he wouldn't lift a finger.
My skin prickled. I turned my head.
Sure enough—it was the boy.
Still expressionless. Still silent. But his eyes… his eyes were starving. And right on cue, his stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl.
It echoed in the quiet hum of the classroom.
He didn't flinch. Just kept chewing air and staring, like his stomach hadn't just outed him as a stealth-class snack addict.
I blinked, then smothered a chuckle.
With a sigh and a shake of my head, I held out an unopened snack bag toward him.
He blinked. Actually flinched. Ears going red. There was a full beat of hesitation—shoulders twitching—before he took it with a stiff nod.
We ate in silence after that. Two weirdos surrounded by an invisible bubble of snack crumbs and academic apathy.
Somehow, it worked.
⸻
The peace lasted until the PE teacher arrived and clapped loudly.
"Alright, everyone—field training, let's go! Move it!" barked the PE teacher, a wiry man who looked like he chewed on dumbbells for breakfast.
Field training, huh?
Let's see who's all talk and who actually knows how to move.
We were divided into two groups—boys and girls—and led toward the shower rooms to change into our standard training armor.
The outfit was sleek, full-body micro-light armor that adapted to environmental changes. An integrated AI tracked our physical stats, qi levels, energy usage, and skill exertion. It wasn't bulky like old combat suits—this one fit like a second skin and responded to qi flow in real time.
I gathered my things, Maxius hopping into my hood while Lufei stretched and trotted along beside me, her hooves making a soft tink sound against the tile.
As we walked, I glanced over my shoulder.
The boy was still walking behind me, munching quietly on the last of the snack I gave him.
I didn't know his name yet.
But I had a feeling this wouldn't be our last field together.
⸻
Later (Third-Person Insert)
Fan Yumei stopped in her tracks.
Just before reaching the training grounds, she turned abruptly, causing Lufei to perk up in surprise. Maxius peered out from behind her shoulder, curious.
The boy—still munching on the snack she gave him—nearly bumped into her.
She eyed him for a beat. "Name?"
He blinked, expression still unreadable. Then—after a heartbeat of hesitation—he raised his right hand and tapped his Federation license ring against his palm.
A soft pulse of qi lit up the embedded data.
[Jin Minhe | Dual Core | Double Profession | Six-Star Rank]
Awakened: Healer and Elemental Caller
Professions: Healer, Refiner
Class License: Federation Certified – A+
Yumei let out a low whistle. "Healer and Caller combo, huh? And a Refiner profession? That's rare."
She offered her fist.
He froze—just a second too long—then lightly bumped it with his own. The contact was brief but solid—an unspoken acknowledgment between two six-stars.
She smiled at him. Friendly. Bright.
Too bright.
Jin Minhe watched her walk away, Lufei trotting by her side, Maxius climbing to sit like a crown on her shoulder. The expression on his face didn't change—but something in his gut shifted.
That smile had felt… off.
Not bad. Just… off.
There was something calculated behind it.
Something quietly dangerous.
What he didn't know was that Fan Yumei had already mentally filed his name under a new category:
"Potential Sparring Partner – Bribable via Snacks."
She had him pegged in three seconds flat—right down to the grumbly stomach and snack-fueled movements. He didn't know it yet, but she was already building a strategy to rope him into regular sparring practice using salted nut crisps and honey-dried spiritfruit as currency.
Fan Yumei had met his type before.
A purebred, grade-A, battle-capable foodie.
And now he was on her radar.