The middle-aged police officer exhaled quietly, his voice steady yet bearing the weight of restrained authority.

"Alright then. In that case, we'll begin with the chronological reconstruction of this incident—from the school's perspective."

The principal rose from his seat with a tense, practiced smile, proceeding to explain the sequence of events with eloquent, carefully measured diction.

Each word chosen as though weighed on invisible scales, crafted to sound neutral on the surface, yet to those perceptive enough, the ambiguity and manipulation woven into his speech were unmistakable.

What he conveyed was nothing more than a curated outline of the alleged assault and the fabricated documents he had previously shown to Al.

He narrated it with rhetorical polish, framing himself and the elite fathers as the righteous side, subtly steering the narrative so that Al's supposed wrongdoing was neither emphasized nor directly stated, but implied through tone and structure.

Standing silently behind Al, Sebastian observed every syllable that left the man's mouth.

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly each time the principal's choice of words veered toward an insinuation that painted Al in an unfavorable light without ever mentioning his name outright.

From beyond the walls of the room, faint murmurs began to rise.

Footsteps echoed. Whispers intertwined. The restless heartbeat of curiosity pulsed through the corridor.

Students had started to gather outside.

Some pressed their ears against the wall, others leaned close to any narrow gap or reflection they could find, hoping to catch even a fragment of what was happening inside.

To them, this incident was more than just school gossip—it was a spectacle worth witnessing. After all, it involved the student whose name had recently dominated every conversation in the academy since Al's emergence as the top scorer in the mock exams.

Wild speculations spread like ripples in water, and the most widely accepted assumption among them was that Al had cheated.

Yet even in that rumor, an unfilled flaw remained—the inexplicable presence of the police and one of the school's owner, Idham's father, which didn't fit neatly into their narrative.

Teachers and security staff did their best to control the growing commotion in the hallway, though they were clearly overwhelmed.

They could not afford to be too harsh, considering the crowd consisted of students born to the most influential and powerful families in the region.

The chaos outside bled subtly into the atmosphere within.

Noticing the swelling noise and distraction, the female officer straightened her posture in the midst of the principal's ongoing statement.

She exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with the middle-aged officer, then spoke in a low tone. After a few quiet words between them, the three officers nodded in agreement.

Taking command once more, the middle-aged officer addressed the room in a firm, unwavering tone.

"Given that the current situation is no longer conducive for discussion, we'll be transferring all involved parties to the police station for further questioning. The continuation of the investigation will be conducted there," he declared with crisp authority.

Al appeared somewhat reluctant—his expression faintly betraying his disinterest in wasting more time on something he already found tedious.

His mood hadn't been particularly pleasant to begin with, but in the end, he gave a slight nod of assent, deciding not to argue.

The principal and the group of distinguished fathers also looked visibly uneasy at the officer's decision.

Their faces stiffened with tension, clearly unprepared for the prospect of being escorted to the police station—especially under the watchful eyes of so many elite students gathered just beyond the door.

Among them were Darius and Lefon, both prominent figures well-known across the upper echelons of East Indorosia's elite circles, particularly in the city of Makazhar.

Yet, much like Al, they eventually acquiesced, recognizing that resistance would only draw more unwanted attention.

With a collective nod, silent agreement filled the room. No one voiced dissent. They simply followed the officers' lead and began making their way toward the exit in measured steps.

Al moved without a word, maintaining his position at the rear beside Sebastian, guided by the female officer.

He said nothing, his gaze drifting toward the window—where sunlight blazed mercilessly outside, the clear and scorching midday sky awaiting to bear silent witness as they proceeded to resolve this case.

As the door to the meeting room swung open, the sound echoed faintly down the corridor — and the scene outside immediately unfolded into a vivid spectacle of restless curiosity.

The hallway was already packed with students, most of them seniors who, despite their morning agenda having ended nearly an hour ago, had chosen to linger instead of going home, driven purely by the allure of drama.

Some wore confused expressions, some looked intrigued, but the majority had the unmistakable faces of spectators at a live performance — entertained, eager, and unashamedly invested.

Their energy stood in stark contrast to Rina's group, whose anxious faces did not share in the amusement of the crowd.

Fortunately, Al emerged from the room with his usual unreadable expression — utterly blank, as though burdened by nothing at all.

To Rina and Dila, however, that expression wasn't calmness, but the familiar look of Al's deep-seated indifference, that perpetual laziness etched into his very being. Still, it was enough to ease their worry, even if only slightly.

Not far from the entrance, Idham stood stiffly, waiting at the front gate.

His posture was rigid, his gaze fixed upon the group approaching from the building — the police officers, the principal, the fathers of Rudi, the fathers of Jogo, and, of course, Al, walking alongside Mr. Sebastian.

Lefon, however, appeared preoccupied, conversing quietly with the officers as they moved. Without stopping, he stepped into Darius's car — the vehicle designated to transport the group of elite parents and the principal to the police station.

Receiving no greeting, Idham finally called out softly,

"Dad…" His voice trembled, barely audible, almost swallowed by the hum of engines.

Yet it was enough to make Lefon glance back. Through the half-lowered car window, Lefon met his son's gaze and spoke gently, his tone calm yet firm.

"There's no need for you to come along. Everything will be fine," he said, his words carrying an unspoken reassurance.

Then, with a faint smile, he added, "Go home for now. Don't wander around. Your mother must be waiting for you for lunch."

Idham could only nod, his eyes fixed on his father's, though a faint unease flickered within them.

Before rolling up the window completely, Lefon added one last reminder — that he might return home late, and Idham shouldn't bother waiting.

The car soon rolled forward, leaving behind the quiet figure of Idham, who remained rooted in place within the school parking lot, watching as the vehicle disappeared around the corner of the main road.

Across the courtyard, Rina, Karen, and Dila stood silently, their eyes following the movement of the police convoy.

Rina's face tightened with discomfort, her eyes locked onto Al, who was being led toward one of the police vehicles.

"Does this have something to do with Jogo and Rudi?" she muttered under her breath, her voice faint yet filled with apprehension.

Her thoughts drifted back to that night at the café — to Al's calm, almost emotionless voice when he mentioned those two names, words that carried meaning far deeper than she could comprehend at the time.

The unease within her chest grew heavier, tightening slowly like a coiling thread.

Before she could sink deeper into her thoughts, Karen tugged her sleeve urgently.

"Rina… Rina! Check your phone. I think we're about to get into some serious trouble too," she said in a shaky, near-panicked voice, her eyes shimmering with worry.

Rina turned toward her with visible irritation.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her tone edged with tension.

Karen hesitated, her expression awkward as she showed her phone.

"She's been calling me since earlier," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

On the screen, five missed calls glared back at them — all from Yura.

Rina's stomach dropped. Her eyes widened as she fumbled for her own phone from her bag.

Sure enough, her notifications mirrored Karen's — multiple missed calls, accompanied by a string of messages. The texts contained nothing but emojis: a flaming knife, a demon face, and a few ominous dots.

Rina sighed heavily, pressing a palm to her forehead.

"Ah… damn it. I got so caught up worrying about Al, I completely forgot about Yura," she groaned.

"What's wrong, Rina?" Dila asked, having silently observed their growing panic with confusion.

Rina turned toward her with an expression that was both guilty and exasperated.

"Let's just say Al's not the only one in trouble today. I might be next," she muttered grimly.

"Same here… hic," Karen added pitifully, her eyes glistening with despair.

Dila blinked at the two of them, utterly lost.

Meanwhile, Rina hurriedly tapped on Yura's contact and hit the call button, her heart thudding nervously.

Karen braced herself beside her, hands already covering her ears in anticipation — as though preparing for an explosion. She knew Yura's voice had a reputation for being louder and sharper than a stadium speaker whenever she was angry.

The line connected after only a few seconds.

Both Rina and Karen froze, exchanging a panicked glance, their throats tightening as they swallowed hard.

Dila, still clueless, simply watched the pair in amusement, thinking they were overreacting.

But instead of a scream, what came from the other end of the line was something far worse — a voice calm and chilling.

"Relax, both of you. I'll save my fury for another time. Just make sure you're ready when that time comes," Yura said, her tone so cold that it seemed to drain the air around them.

Even though she wasn't yelling, the sheer iciness of her voice was enough to crush their composure. Both girls went completely silent, standing rigid as they listened to what felt like the decree of a goddess of death disguised as a bestfriend.

Yura continued, her tone steady but carrying a suppressed anger beneath the calmness.

"I've already seen part of what happened, and I expect you two to explain it to me. Why was Al taken into the police car?"

The question was phrased simply, yet every word dripped with restrained fury — as though Yura's displeasure wasn't about the situation itself, but about the fact that Al might have gotten into trouble at all.

"So now, come outside. I can see you from here. Devy and I are parked near the main gate — you know which car is mine, don't you? Hurry up and get here," she commanded.

The call ended abruptly — without Rina or Karen managing to utter a single word in response. Not even a meek 'okay' escaped their lips.

Both girls let out a deep, shaky sigh in unison, their faces pale. Lifting their gaze, they immediately spotted Yura's sleek car in the distance.

The tinted window rolled down just slightly, revealing a pair of sharp, predatory eyes glaring straight at them from the front seat.

That single glance sent a chill down their spines — a silent warning far more terrifying than any outburst could be.

Without another word, both Rina and Karen broke into a run.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Dila shouted, startled, before dashing after them. "Don't leave me behind—I'm coming too!"

The three of them hurried through the school gates, their footsteps echoing against the pavement as they made their way toward what could only be described as their first judgment.

Their steps were quick, but Rina's gaze still lifted once to the blindingly bright sky — a sharp contrast to the freezing aura that awaited them in Yura's car.

But no matter how terrifying Yura's wrath could be, ensuring Al's safety came first.

And so, under the blazing sun, the five of them — each bearing their own tension — departed toward the police station.

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