Chapter 9: A Boxer?
Ryan West stood outside his new classroom, his heart thudding like a war drum.
He adjusted his new school uniform, still stiff from the packaging. His hand hovered over the door handle.
'What if it's the same again? What if they hate me too? What if they find out I got transferred because I beat the crap out of two rich kids?'
He gulped.
[DING!]
[Reminder: Active Quest – Communicate and make friends in your class.]
[Reward: +3 Endurance, +3 Stamina]
'Right. I'm not here to survive anymore. I'm here to grow.'
He pushed the door open.
Chatter quieted.
Eyes turned.
Dozens of students—boys with well-groomed hair and sharp jawlines, girls with shiny accessories and lip gloss smiles—glanced over at the newcomer like he was some rare species that wandered in by mistake.
He resisted the urge to curl in on himself and looked straight ahead. 'Act cool. Don't look scared. Don't stutter.'
The teacher, a strict-looking man with a thin mustache and a presence that screamed "no bullshit," turned from the whiteboard.
"You must be the transfer student," he said flatly. "Name?"
Ryan bowed slightly. "R-Ryan West, sir."
"Introduce yourself to the class."
Ryan turned to face the sea of curious, judging faces. He cleared his throat, sweat already gathering behind his ears.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm Ryan West. I transferred from Redstone High. I… I hope we can get along well."
Some students gave polite nods. Others smiled faintly. But a few—especially the less well-groomed types—snickered quietly, whispering behind their palms.
Ryan caught one pudgy guy mutter to his friend, "Another loser from some bottom-tier school."
The friend replied, "Bro looks like he eats textbooks for breakfast."
Ryan wanted to crawl into a hole, but he reminded himself—'They don't know me. Not yet. Let them laugh.'
"Take the empty seat in the back," the teacher instructed. "Next to Arthur."
Ryan bowed again. "Yes, sir."
He walked down the aisle, trying not to trip over his own feet. He could feel the stares trailing him, like invisible needles on his skin.
The desk next to the window had a guy slouched over it—arms folded, head resting on top, dead to the world.
Ryan slid into the seat beside him and glanced sideways.
The guy—Arthur—was tall, muscular, and had a short buzzcut. His fists were taped. Not school bandage-type taped. Boxing wrapped. Ryan noticed faint bruises on his knuckles and a scar under his left eye.
The guy stirred, blinking one eye open.
He looked Ryan over lazily, like someone judging an opponent's weight class. His gaze wasn't hostile, just... assessing.
"Yo," Ryan whispered. "I'm Ryan. Just transferred."
Arthur grunted, his voice low and tired. "Cool."
Then he closed his eyes again.
Ryan blinked. 'Wow. Okay. That's it? Just... cool?'
Still, he wasn't being mocked. That alone was already an upgrade.
He glanced at Arthur again and noticed a worn-out notebook on his desk. The front was scribbled over with boxing combos, training schedules, and a massive, stylized name across the top: "Arthur 'KO King' Kane."
'This guy's seriously into boxing. Not the gym rat kind. The real deal.'
Arthur suddenly spoke without opening his eyes. "You box?"
Ryan nearly jumped. "H-Huh? Me? I mean… kinda. I just got a jab skill—"
Arthur cracked one eye open again. This time there was actual interest there.
"A jab? You training under someone?"
"Uhh... no coach. I'm... self-taught. Kind of."
Arthur sat up slowly and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. His gaze was a little sharper now, not sleepy at all.
"That jab better be real. I don't like posers."
Ryan swallowed hard. 'Why does this feel like an interview with a final boss?'
He nodded. "Yeah. It's... legit. I even dropped someone with it."
Arthur's lips curled into a half-smile, and for a moment, Ryan could see the glint of respect—or at least curiosity.
"Name's Arthur," he said, offering his fist for a bump.
Ryan bumped it without hesitation. 'Shit. That's the most manly moment I've had in years.'
The teacher cleared his throat, and the rest of the class resumed their lectures. Ryan finally exhaled the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
As he sat back, he saw the quest notification flicker in his vision.
[DING!]
[Quest Progress: Social Interaction Initiated – Arthur Kane]
[+25% Quest Completion]
'Alright. One down. Let's see what else this school throws at me.'
But as he leaned into his chair, he caught a group of guys across the room whispering and pointing at him.
Some had amused looks. Others were sizing him up like fresh meat.
'Great. The fun never ends.'
Still, he smirked to himself. He wasn't alone this time.
He had his system.
And maybe, just maybe, a boxing freak ally who didn't talk much but could probably punch through a locker.
The teacher started explaining something about political structures, but Ryan wasn't listening.
His eyes drifted to the boxing notebook on Arthur's desk, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something warm stir in his chest.
Excitement.
And maybe, just maybe…
Hope.