บท 1: Prologue
"Draco, it is the third time I am asking for you to pay attention." The teacher knitted his eyebrows, staring at the student in the back of the class. "With such low grades, you have no chance of getting into any good universities."
Draco removed his gaze from the window, where a pack of crows was flying in an orderly manner, performing quite exquisite moves. Putting his hand against his chin, Draco made eye contact with the teacher. "Sure, teacher, I will try to pay attention."
He had learned long ago that arguing with any of the teachers was pointless and exhausting. The teacher nodded, though the frown remained on his face. The teacher continued explaining integration, and Draco's face turned back to the window, staring at his own reflection.
He had dark features, including long, dark hair, that fell onto his forehead. His pupils were bottomless and abysmal. Certainly not bad looks, including a body that hasn't felt any rest since he was seven. Girls always stuck to him, though he had no interest in them at all.
Sighing, Draco lifted his gaze back up, seeing crows landing on top of a building, gawking and screeching. He wondered… how did it feel to fly? Free from the pressure and pointless responsibility. He had felt that freedom for a few seconds, when he had jumped from a fourth-floor building, believing that he would sour into the sky like the dragons in those movies.
Instead, he spent three weeks in a coma.
As Draco's mind was flooded with the thoughts of his past, chalk suddenly hit him in the head, forcing his head to tilt backward. Draco frowned, feeling pain excluding from the spot where it hit him. When he turned around, the entire class was staring at him, their mouths wide open.
It had never gotten so bad that the professor would lose control.
Draco stood up, feeling a bit of anger swelling within him. Whatever the reason, a teacher had no right to do something like this. "With all due respect, sir, I suggest you apologize to me if you don't want to see the consequences of your actions."
"I suggest you sit back before I call your parents." The teacher bit back, his eyes ferocious, like that of a beast. "In this classroom, I am the boss, and you must listen to me. If I ask you to pay attention, you pay attention. If I tell you to leave, you leave. And If I want to throw a chalk at you, then I do that. Understood?"
Draco sighed. "You are being unreasonable, sir. My mother always told me that a teacher should be an example to students." Leaning down, Draco picked up a chalk. "Thus, if that statement holds true, I have full rights to throw this back at you."
"Don't you da-"
Before the teacher even managed to finish his sentence, Draco threw the chalk, hitting him straight on the forehead. It was an immaculate bang and the teacher fell onto his back, the rear of his head colliding with the desk. The entire class fell into silence, shock clear on their faces.
"10 points." Draco beamed a smile, having imagined this moment since the first time he attended his class. Picking up his backpack, Draco left the classroom, before the principal and other teachers were informed. He probably wouldn't get expelled since the teacher was the first one to start this ordeal. His adoptive dad probably won't be happy, but it was whatever.
He would deal with the consequences later.
That was his life motto.
Draco left the school grounds, opening his phone and checking the time. It was just after 12 pm, meaning that the boxing club had just opened. Draco turned off his phone, believing he would get a lot of annoying calls due to this incident. Buying a protein shake in the nearby grocery shop, Draco departed towards the gym.
He arrived in 15 minutes, having finished the drink. Opening the doors, he was greeted by the unpleasant stench of sweat and a bunch of middle-aged men staring at the newcomer. Not feeling intimidated, he made his way toward one particular man, dressed in a blue polo shirt.
Marco's hair was gray and his face was full of wrinkles, though that didn't change the fact that he was a retired professional and the current owner of the gym. Upon seeing Draco, Marco beamed a smile, his frown vanishing from his expression.
"You are early today," Marco said, stretching out his hand for a handshake. "Trouble at school again?"
"Not trouble. The teacher just went mad." Draco grasped Marco's hand, looking around at the gym and seeing everyone practicing. "Any good ones today?"
Marco revealed a row of white teeth, pointing at a dark-skinned man doing pull-ups in the corner. His body was burly, as if his muscles would explode at any moment. "That's Gerald. He is a new star in the light-weight division, going 5-0 right now. Has been asking for a good spar since he entered the gym, and I told him to wait till you arrive."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why would someone like him train at your gym?"
Marco's eyes twitched. "Is there something wrong with my club?" Draco looked away, breaking the eye contact. Marco sighed. "He relocated here with his family a few days ago. They have bought a house in this area."
Draco nodded, putting his backpack on the ground, changing his clothes. "Tell him I will be ready in a few minutes," Draco stated, going to another corner to warm up. Everyone in the gym walked away from him, having experienced the wrath of the infamous youngster.
Fifteen minutes later, Draco was ready, standing head-to-head with Gerald. The man looked even more imposing from up close, towering over Draco, a frown on his face. Gerald turned to Marco. "That's the person you told me about?"
Marco was smiling. He always enjoyed seeing someone's first time. "Don't underestimate him."
Gerald stared at Marco for a few instances, then turned towards Draco. "Are you still in high school?"
"Why does it matter?" Draco asked in response.
Gerald sighed. "I am not going to hold back. Surrender when you think you can't keep going, I will stop attacking then." In response, Draco smiled. Suddenly, his eyes became even more bottomless. Even more black. Gerald felt goosebumps on his skin and Marco's face became even more pleased.
Then, Draco removed the T-shirt from his body and Gerald took a step back, his mouth wide open. Draco's body was so muscular that veins were visible on his chest, and he looked like a battle machine that would kill you with one punch. However, what made Gerald step away were numerous scars running down Draco's body. Some of them looked like they were made with knives. Some were burns. Some appeared to have been made with bullets.
It was a body that an eighteen-year-old shouldn't have.
Just what kind of life Draco had lived?
"I don't want you to feel pity for me. Just fight me, like you would anyone else." Draco stated, his face indifferent. With that statement, Draco jumped into the ring. Gerald gulped, then after a moment's hesitation, climbed into the ring as well.
Draco, seeing an opponent before him, changed. His body began twitching, his eyes stretched. His knees bent, his body forward, ready to burst into action at a moment's notice. Gerald calmed down his nerves, staring at Draco, seeing numerous weak points in his stance.
'I shouldn't be nervous. An 18-year-old is just an 18-year old after all.' Gerald thought, putting his hands up, waiting for the beginning of the match. Marco raised his hand, Gerald's blood boiling. Marco abruptly put his hand down, and suddenly Gerald felt his body flying to the corner of the ring. He felt his head beaming with pain, as a rain of attacks landed all around his body.
Gerald tried to defend himself, coming back to his senses, seeing Draco's gloved fists moving with speed beyond comprehension. Gerald frowned, receiving another punch in the gut, a tremor shaking his body. He fell to his knees, Marco stepping in, as the pressure from Draco subsided.
Gerald's eyes were full of sweat, his vision blurry, as he stood back up to his feet.
"Are you good?" Marco asked with genuine worry on his face. "Can you continue?"
Gerald nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow, staring at Draco, whose face remained indifferent. Gerald felt the overwhelming pressure coming from Draco, as his legs trembled a bit. Biting his lip, Gerald steeled his nerves. He was a champion - he couldn't lose against some youngster in a no-name gym.
"Continue," Marco mumbled. This time, Draco didn't rush, letting Gerald attack him with his full vigor. Draco ducked, dodging an incoming punch. However, Gerald predicted that, sending a left hook straight toward Draco's face. Yet, before his fist felt any resistance, Gerald's vision was overwhelmed by darkness, and he fell on his back.
"Should we wake him up?" Draco asked, puffing out the air from his lungs.
"Nah, let him sleep a bit." Marco put his hand around Draco's neck. "So, are you sure you don't want to go pro? You would destroy everyone in Europe."
Draco shrugged. "No, thanks."
A few hours later, Gerald finally woke up, not feeling half of his face. He grunted, rising to his feet. Gerald looked around, seeing that the gym was practically empty. It was evening already. Marco walked up to him. "Good morning, princess."
"What happened?" Gerald rasped.
"You were knocked out by Draco," Marco mumbled, looking through the window. "Don't feel discouraged though. He is a prodigy I haven't ever seen before. Even I don't understand how he knocks everyone out with such a violent way of fighting."
"He…" Gerald's eyes twitched, a resemblance of fear within it. "What is he?
"A monster." Marco smiled.
-
Draco was walking through the empty streets, checking his phone. Three missed calls from his adoptive dad, and twelve from his 'friends'. Sighing, Draco put the phone away, looking up at the stars. He stretched his hand out as if trying to touch them. Yet, he couldn't, for he was just a mortal. He had achieved his limits and tried hundreds of ways to obtain something greater, yet it was all futile.
It all started when he was seven and he saw his first fantasy movie.
He got so fascinated by the powers and magic that he watched basically every anime and fantasy movie, even getting into books. Then, Draco began to learn martial arts, whilst searching for ways to achieve something magical, sincerely believing that there must be something supernatural in this world. Yet, in these eleven years, during which he had learned basically every martial art and worked out till he puked every day, he had achieved nothing.
Yes, he could beat people. Yet, if he was attacked by a group, he would simply be overwhelmed with their numbers. That's not including guns and all that technology. If this country got nuked, he would be evaporated into nothingness like everyone else.
Still, Draco didn't let himself give up.
He tried meditating, living his life like a monk.
He tried stabbing himself, hoping that he would perhaps unlock some unexpected regeneration power when he was on the brink of death.
Hell, he even stole a gun from his stepdad and shot himself in the gut, believing that the time around him would slow down like in those movies, and he would suddenly be able to dodge. Of course, that didn't happen, even after three tries.
Summoning spirits, devils or even cursing gods.
He had tried everything…and nothing. No result, except for some permanent scars and injuries. Additionally, he had to spend a few months in a hospital for the mentally ill.
However, today, on the 12th of September, Draco had a plan that was deemed to bring a change.
Turning his phone off, Draco moved east, away from the town and into the forest. It was dark, yet Draco didn't fear the darkness. He walked within the forest like it was his own. Eventually, Draco reached his destination.
A cliff.
Draco sat down on the edge of it, overlooking the ever-stretching forest. On the left, a part of the town was visible, though Draco had no interest in it. It was not special, not at all. On the other hand, the forest on the right brought at least some resemblance of magic, and it felt like it was slowly breathing.
Then, Draco looked down.
Today, he was going to jump from here.
It was an inescapable death. Perhaps he would finally unlock some powers. Otherwise, he would simply die, though even that would be more interesting than continuing to live in this world. There was simply no point, no excitement, no reason to wake up the next day.
Draco simply didn't want to continue living in this damned world, didn't want to study useless stuff, didn't want to work in an office. He just didn't want to be ordinary, like everyone else. Draco desired adventure, magic, and battling overwhelming creatures. Spreading his hands in opposite directions, Draco looked up at the sky, a scowl on his face. "Fuck you! Whoever created this world!"
With that, Draco was fluttering downwards, wind pushing his hair and revealing his forehead. In just a few mere seconds, Draco was a few feet away from the ground. Yet, despite that, Draco's face had a little smile on it. Perhaps death would bring something extraordinary.
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