At the edge of the student crowd, the girl leading the room assignments had just shouted: "Ethan Blake...!"

Ethan felt amused. He had not requested a room; it was obvious that Alexandria Sinclair was adding a layer of fun to his first day, forcing the university experience upon him. Still, with his typical calm, he approached the podium and accepted the assignment.

He was lined up with other freshmen and was soon guided to his new room, which he would have to share with two others. As he walked the halls, he couldn't help but reflect. He had yearned for this dorm life, the cliché that Vincent had stolen from him.

Ethan thought with irony: "I didn't ask for this. Alexandria is amusing herself at my expense."

[Hahaha! Didn't you want the 'real' university experience, Champion? Now you can pretend to be poor again, with two roommates and a shared bathroom. It's called method acting, enjoy!] The System mocked happily.

Ethan merely rolled his eyes, but the amusement was short-lived. Upon reaching his floor, the atmosphere was not welcoming.

A small group of sophomore students, all stocky and wearing the insignia of the MIT Karate Club and Boxing Club, approached the newcomers. They were thugs looking to impose an extortion fee.

"Listen up, fresh meat," said the leader, a guy with a notoriously crooked nose. "Things work differently on this floor. If you want peace and don't want your books ending up in the pond, you're gonna have to pay a little fee."

The thug walked directly to the door of Ethan's new room, pushing to enter and sabotage the freshman's belongings.

However, one of Ethan's new roommates quickly intervened, his face pale with fear. "No, don't mess with him. Just... leave him alone."

The thug scoffed, pushing the roommate aside. "And who is this that I should be afraid of, huh? Your babysitter?"

Ethan's second roommate, who had witnessed the beatdown in the auditorium that morning, swallowed hard and warned in a shaky voice: "Seriously. We saw what he did to the wrestling team captain. I swear, don't mess with him."

The thug burst out laughing, ignoring the pleas. "Ah, the pretty boy who knows how to box? Let's see how good his boxing is, fella."

Before he could complete the sentence, Ethan moved.

The pent-up frustration from the boring hours of class was released in a silent torrent of precision. The thug leader lunged with a clumsy swing, but Ethan dodged it with an almost imperceptible lateral slip. Before the leader could regain his balance, Ethan delivered a short, brutal left hook that slammed into the thug's jaw, producing a dry crack that echoed down the hall.

The leader dropped to his knees, unconscious.

The other four, enraged by the speed, attacked simultaneously. Ethan pivoted on his heels, his movements pure, textbook boxing. The first attacker rushed in, only to be met by a blindingly fast double jab that snapped his head back, leaving him momentarily stunned. The second lunged, and Ethan delivered a punishing straight cross to the temple, sending him staggering into the wall.

The remaining two hesitated for a split second. That was all Ethan needed. He stepped into the pocket, throwing a powerful hook to the body of the third man that buckled his knees, followed by a swift, clean uppercut to the chin of the last thug, who dropped like a sack of bricks.

Five subjects lay on the hallway floor, writhing and moaning. Ethan stood motionless, not breathing hard, not a single crease in his suit, not a drop of sweat.

[See, Champion. Pure physics. You didn't even need the System for that. A perfect demonstration of the sweet science.]

He looked at his terrified roommates. "Problem solved," he said calmly, walking into the room and choosing the bed by the window.

The sight of the unconscious sophomores was all the motivation the other freshmen needed. The abusers' stunned friends quickly started dragging the five beaten bodies away, retreating to their own floor. Meanwhile, the residents of that floor began to cheer loudly, celebrating the defeat of the bullies who had tormented them.

Max and Ming, Ethan's new roommates, cautiously entered the room, moving silently to avoid disturbing the man who had just dismantled five attackers without blinking.

"H-hi," said Max, the cheerful, slightly heavier guy with glasses.

"Hello," added Ming, the thin, reserved young man of Asian descent who had lived in the U.S. most of his life.

Ethan turned and greeted them with a relaxed smile. "Hey. Sorry about the mess in the hall. Welcome to the room."

They immediately relaxed, realizing Ethan wasn't a monster, just someone incredibly strong. They quickly started unpacking, the fear replaced by awe.

"Wow, that was... really cool," Max said, setting down a tower of League of Legends collectible figures. "You totally owned those noobs."

"Yes," Ming agreed, carefully placing his laptop on his desk. "Very efficient striking. High damage output."

Their conversation naturally turned to their shared passion: video games.

"So, you guys into gaming?" Ethan asked, sitting on his bed.

"Dude, Max is obsessed with LoL," Ming scoffed with a grin. "He spends more time in Summoner's Rift than in the library."

"Hey! And Ming is stuck on Dota 2," Max retorted. "That game is ancient history, man!"

[Hahaha! Look at you, Champion! Making friends! I'm getting nostalgic. You never had friends before; you just had accomplices and potential victims. Now you're feeling the pure, intoxicating power of respect!] The System teased.

Ethan ignored the System, genuinely enjoying the light banter. "LoL, Dota... all MOBAs," Ethan interjected. "Too much clicking. What about shooters?"

"Now that I like," Max said, immediately brightening. "Nothing beats the original Halo. Master Chief is the GOAT."

"Halo, absolutely," Ethan agreed, nodding.

Ming shook his head with an air of superiority. "Please. Console wars are over. Call of Duty is the true global shooter. It's a bigger franchise, faster pace, more mainstream."

"Mainstream is boring, Ming," Max countered. "Halo has the lore! It's classic!"

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