CHAPTER 63: CHAPTER 63: 20,000 WORDS

Mr. Nikolai finally realized that Zane and Ryker truly had no intention of answering him. At first, he had been willing to let all four of them go with only a stern warning, but now his patience had worn dangerously thin. He was not just annoyed anymore—he was furious. Carl had lied blatantly right in front of him. Aiden, with that sharp tongue of his, had turned the entire exchange into a verbal trap, leaving no space for Nikolai’s authority to breathe. And Ryker and Zane? They were on another level entirely. They had given him ridiculous, almost insulting reasons for why they had started the fight, and then had the audacity to refuse to explain anything further. It was as though they were daring him to do something about it.

Mr. Nikolai forced himself to swallow the rising wave of anger, pushing it down so hard that his jaw ached from clenching. Then, in a deliberate, measured motion, he smirked and said to the four of them, "Since none of you have anything more to say, I will now pass down my judgment."

Zane’s lip curled into a slow, disdainful sneer. He muttered under his breath, just low enough that most would never have heard him, "Does he think he’s a judge? Look at him Go on about passing judgement. Ridiculous."

The words might have been meant for himself, but Mr. Nikolai was a wolf, and his hearing was sharper than any ordinary man’s. He heard every syllable as clearly as if Zane had shouted them across the room. The sound of Zane voice alone when he is about to pass judgement almost drove him mad, not to mention the word of disdain Zane said. He had never, in all his years of being the leader of the disciplinary committee, encountered students so unafraid of him. Usually, when students were called before the disciplinary committee, they were pale with terror. They bowed, they groveled, they told the truth, desperate for a lighter sentence. But these four? They were different.

Carl was the only one showing proper fear, his shoulders tense and his wide eyes fixed on Mr. Nikolai like a cornered animal, dreading whatever it is that Mr Nikolai wants to say, if it was other students Mr Nikolai would have given them like a month suspension by now, but the other three students_ Aiden, Ryker and zane_ are no normal students that he can just send him like that and that is what is pissing him off right now. Mr Nikolai look at the other three once again, and he realised, that they might as well have been sitting in a café somewhere instead of facing discipline. Aiden, who had at least looked mildly nervous when he first stepped into the room, had lost even that. Now, his expression screamed that he couldn’t care less what Nikolai thought and Mr Nikolai couldn’t figure out where Aiden get his new found confidence from. He stood there like someone daring the world to do its worst.

Mr. Nikolai had to force himself to calm down yet again. He took a long, steadying breath and finally sighed, as though making a great concession, before saying, "All of you are to write a twenty-thousand-word apology letter. You will explain exactly what you did wrong and detail how you will avoid making the same mistake again in the future."

For once, Aiden was left momentarily speechless. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth fell open slightly before he found his voice. He was the first to raise a hand in protest. "Twenty thousand words, really Mr Nikolai, don’t you think that’s ridiculous?" he said incredulously. "Mr. Nikolai, with all due respect, since the creation of mankind I’m pretty sure there has never been a letter that long. That wouldn’t be a letter anymore. That would be an essay, maybe even a book."

A slow, smug smile crept over Mr. Nikolai’s face as he looked at Aiden. "Letter, essay, call it whatever you like," he said with deliberate calm. " All I know is that you all will be writing it. Every last one of you. And yes, it must be that long, otherwise it wouldn’t serve its purpose as punishment, or do I need to explain the meaning of punishment to you, I’m sure I don’t have to, you’re so intelligent anyways. And please, do not interrupt me again. I’m not done speaking ."

He let his gaze sweep across all four of their faces, studying them one by one. Carl looked like the ground had just opened under him. Aiden was scowling deeply, clearly displeased about having to write a 20,000 words letter. But Ryker and Zane still looked unbearably bored, which only made Nikolai’s blood boil hotter.

He gave a short, derisive laugh before continuing. "You will submit these letters three days from now. And they must be handwritten—no typing, no outsourcing the work to anyone else. I will be checking your handwriting against past assignments. If I find even the slightest mismatch, you will face additional punishment. You are to pour your hearts into these letters. I expect you to mention not only how your fight disrupted the peace of the school, but also what further chaos it might have caused had it continued. You will write about how you plan to warn other students not to repeat your mistake. Which means," he added with a sharp look, "you cannot simply copy an apology letter from the internet and rewrite it. You will think and write with sincerity. I expect them on my desk three days from now. Failure to submit by the deadline will result in yet another punishment."

Aiden could not keep the frown from his face. This man might be handsome, even pleasant to look at, but there was clearly nothing soft about him. He was black-hearted enough to demand a task that would nearly break their hands. Could anyone even write twenty thousand words in three days without collapsing from exhaustion?

Mr. Nikolai, meanwhile, was taking quiet satisfaction in the expressions before him. Finally, he thought, he had managed to rattle them. Carl was pale, Aiden looked frustrated, and even Ryker had furrowed his brows. Zane, however, only glared once before letting his face fall back into that infuriatingly bored expression.

That was not good enough for Mr. Nikolai. Something deep inside him—the part that he liked to think of as ancient and wise—wanted to see those two break. He wanted them to look as shaken as Carl. He wanted them to regret making him lose his temper. It was childish, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it. Here he was, a man over a hundred years old, trading petty blows of pride with nineteen-year-old boys.

The other seven members of the disciplinary committee sitting in the room could tell what he was doing. They could see that he was deliberately targeting the students now, pushing harder than was necessary, and the faintly excited glint in his eyes made it obvious. None of them spoke up, but several of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats, embarrassed for him.

Mr. Nikolai ignored them all and continued, his tone carrying a cruel edge of triumph. "Do you think your punishment ends there? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there is one more task."

He paused deliberately, watching as all four students frowned in unison. Exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

"Our Skyline Academy campus is massive," he said, voice smooth and measured. "There are several old buildings that have fallen into disuse, becoming quite dilapidated. As you know, the school has begun the process of repairing them. There are seven major buildings still in need of cleaning and restoration. I will allow you to choose any one of them, but once you choose, you will personally clean it, both inside and out. I expect every room to be spotless—no cobwebs, no dust, no trash, not even a single leaf left on the floor. The building must be shining by the time you are finished."

His smile turned sharper. "And before you get clever ideas, let me be very clear: you are forbidden from using your supernatural abilities. No speeding through it. No fire. You will manually pick up the trash, load it into a wheelbarrow, and haul it outside the school grounds to the canal where we dispose of waste. I trust you understand me clearly."

This time, the anger in the room was palpable. The air felt heavier, thicker. Zane was the first to speak, glaring at Mr. Nikolai as though he wanted to set him on fire with his eyes. "You want me to pick trash?" he asked, voice low with fury.

Ryker, who had been silent until now, spoke right after him, his tone hard as steel. "And you want me to clean rooms?" he demanded.

The bored expressions that had infuriated Mr. Nikolai so much were gone now, replaced by raw, unfiltered anger.