Freshers Party [II]

Since I had so kindly asked Juliana to organize the freshers party in my stead, I was left to handle the task of moving to my new dorm by myself.

Fortunately, I hadn't unpacked much in my old dorm room, knowing this day would soon come.

So, packing my belongings was quick and simple.

The dorm halls were eerily quiet.

Even the streets outside were mostly deserted, since almost everyone was still occupied at the banquet.

Most of the second and third-year Cadets were still away on vacation, enjoying their term-end break.

Only a handful remained on campus, including the Cadet Council and a few senior Cadets who were tasked with welcoming the incoming batch of us first-years.

So, aside from them, the only people visible on the city streets right now were the ones who had just started arriving — the high-nobles and their servants.

Once again, I felt a pang of envy seeing those bastards. Because unlike me, they didn't have to go through the grueling Evaluation Exam to get into the Academy.

But then again, I was also quite enjoying my title as the Ace.

Lugging my belongings, I made my way to Alaron Street, where I found myself a nice dorm.

After a brief check-in and some financial transactions, I acquired a room on the topmost floor of the building with an exceptional view.

And when I entered the so-called 'room,' my jaw nearly fell to the floor.

"Woah!"  

It was one of the most expensive rooms money could buy in this city! No, it wasn't even a dorm room — it was a penthouse!

Enormous, luxurious, and fully furnished — the space was breathtaking.

There was a grand fireplace in one corner with a spacious sitting area at the center, complete with a round pillar supporting a massive mounted TV. 

To the left of the room was a balcony with a private plunge pool that was also a jacuzzi, and to the right was an open kitchen paired with a bar area.

At the far end of the living space was a flight of stairs that led to an expansive bedroom upstairs. Yes, it was a duplex!

And the best part? The entire opposite wall was a single, seamless pane of glass, offering a stunning panoramic view of the cityscape.

I stood there, momentarily speechless and grinning like a fool.

The difference between this dorm room — if it could even be called that — and my previous one was like night and day! It couldn't be compared!

In fact, it was even better than the apartment I had lived in during my past life.

…Ah, my past life.

I dropped my luggage down in the living area and wandered upstairs, eventually sitting on the edge of my new king-sized bed.

A wistful sigh escaped my lips.

Even though I retained the memories from my past life, they felt distant and detached — like it was just a vivid dream that I had somehow managed to remember after waking up.

But the emotions? The emotions I experienced in that life were still painfully real.

The joy I felt when I bought my first bike. The crushing sadness when my mother left us. The hollow ache in my chest when my father died.  

All of it was still there buried somewhere deep within me, hauntingly real.

And amongst them, one single emotion loomed larger than the rest.  

Regret.  

The regret of living a wasted life.  

The regret of realizing, in my final moments, that I would die having achieved nothing.  

I would die forgotten.  

I would die a nobody.  

I wasn't afraid of death — I was afraid of dying an irrelevant death.

Every wrong choice I took in life, every time I failed, every mistake I made — they all piled up, suffocating me under their weight just as my life came to an end.

So, yes, I had way too many regrets when I died. 

But the one that haunted me most was getting expelled from my college.

I had worked so hard to get in, only to throw it all away because of my misguided sense of justice.  

That single mistake derailed everything.  

I was unable to secure a job and struggled to make ends meet.

I got caught up in some pyramid schemes, lost all my savings, and even found myself locked up for scamming people.  

It was a pathetic existence.  

Some days, I went hungry. Some nights, I shivered in the cold.  

In those bleak times, I dreamed of everything I now possessed.

Lots of money. A nice place to live. And a bright future.

A solemn smile crept onto my lips as I thought of those days.  

"I guess I made it," I whispered to the empty room.  

I had everything I'd ever wanted.  

But as I sat there, that smile slowly faltered.

"I can't afford to lose all this… not again."  

The weight of that truth settled over me and my shoulders suddenly felt heavy.

I had to change my future.  

I had to make sure that this life shouldn't end in regret.  

It couldn't.  

It wouldn't.

•••

After setting up my things in my new dorm room, I decided it was time to get ready for the party.

Yes, I know I called it boring, and I still believed it was. But unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of skipping it.

As the Ace, I was expected to personally welcome the late-entry Cadets — meaning, the high-nobles and legacies.

Legacies is the term for the children of alumni — Cadets whose parents once attended this very Academy.

They often hail from noble families as well, which explains their status.

On the other hand, high-nobles are the rulers of the upper echelons of society – the Ducal and Monarchical clans.

Below them are the low-nobles, which include Counts and Knight families.

And beneath even them are the gentry — government officials and other elites. While not technically nobles, they were still considered far above the general populace.

Now, low-nobles and gentry didn't have the privilege to write direct recommendation letters for their children. Instead, they often rely on their high-noble patrons to pull strings for them.

For instance, Jake's father, who was a Count, could have requested my father — a Duke and his acquaintance — to write a recommendation for Jake.

Of course, that didn't happen. Why? Because his father didn't think Jake was worth such a big favor.

Anyway, the point is, late-entry Cadets are from influential families, and it was my job to greet them.

So here I was, forced to make an appearance.

With a resigned sigh, I got dressed.

I put on a crisp white shirt, a black vest paired with a matching tie, tailored black trousers, and polished boots. To finish the look, I threw on a striking red blazer and some gold jewelry.

Not to sound narcissistic, but gods, I looked amazing.

After admiring my reflection in the mirror for a few long minutes and clicking some selfies to later post them online, I smirked and left my room to head for the Apex Tower.

It took me around half an hour to get there, but instead of heading directly to Dining Hall 12B where the party was being held, I made a little detour.

I entered the Apex Tower and took a lift to get to the underground floors — the Academy Vault.

The Vault was an expansive underground chamber, spanning two entire floors beneath the Apex Tower.

Here, the Academy stored some of its most prized possessions — powerful Cards and Artifacts that were either forged by the Academy's artificers or confiscated by the Cadets during their missions.

It was, essentially, a treasure trove.

And as the Ace, one of the many privileges that were given to me was selecting nine Cards from this vault.

Yes, nine.

The rest of the top ten Cadets were only rewarded two Cards. But I could personally choose any nine.

And if I ever lost a Card or it broke during a fight, I could even come back to get more!

Honestly, being the Ace really had its benefits.

I might still be a little jealous of those who didn't have to pass the entrance exam to get in, but at this moment? I was almost over it.

Almost.