Chapter 57

Chapter 57:

Minutes later, Neal descended the stairs, keys jangling in his hand. “We’re heading over to the esports building now. I’d have brought my computer if it were in my room, but it’s not—so let’s go.”

Fernanda nodded and stepped into the cool evening air. Under the dormitory’s soft glow, the campus lay dim and gentle. They walked in silence until they reached the livelier part, where streetlights threw bright pools onto the pavement.

Neal glanced back at Fernanda just as a beam of light illuminated her features. His eyes widened in surprise. “Wow,” he murmured in awe. “Have you always been this stunning?”

Neal, usually unfocused on appearances, found himself captivated by Fernanda’s visage under the vibrant streetlight. He rubbed his eyes and leaned in closer, as if inspecting a masterpiece.

Fernanda caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow playfully. “What are you gawking at?” she teased. “Do you think I’m wearing a mask or something?”

Neal, realizing she was joking, quickly shook his head, hands fluttering in denial. “No, not at all,” he stammered. Inside, he mused that if the others at their academy saw her now, they’d be utterly smitten.

Suddenly remembering, he lowered his voice with concern. “Your test scores—they weren’t quite up to the mark, were they? Do you really believe you have a chance to get into our academy?”

Fernanda nodded confidently. “Absolutely,” she declared, her certainty infectious enough to make Neal believe without question.

Neal’s curiosity deepened, and he found himself glancing occasionally at Ector, who had remained mostly quiet during their conversation. Ector’s pristine, tidy appearance and attentive posture suggested he was listening closely, even if he spoke little.

Discover fresh tales at g αℓ ησ ν𝒆 𝓁s, com

The contrast between Ector’s crisp appearance and Neal’s casual look made Neal feel out of place. His toes peeked from his flip-flops, shifting nervously as he eyed the long shadows cast by the three of them. Ector’s silhouette was sharp and precise, the lines of his shirt perfectly tailored, while Neal’s own shadow flopped across the pavement, loose T-shirt and shorts giving him a relaxed, almost roguish stance.

Conscious of his posture, Neal cleared his throat and straightened. “Is he your boyfriend?” he ventured quietly. The man beside Fernanda was undeniably handsome and seemed an impeccable match for her.

“He’s my brother,” Fernanda replied succinctly.

“Really?” Neal pressed.

Fernanda shot him a brief glance, arching an eyebrow. “Yes. He’s my blood brother. We share the same last name and live under the same roof.”

Ector, having caught bits of their exchange, turned toward them and offered a subtle smile. Neal’s tension melted into relief—the boys at the esports academy still had hope.

They reached the esports building and Neal pushed open the door to a ground-floor classroom lined with rows of computers for daily practice. Fernanda claimed the seat nearest the entrance and booted up the machine. She navigated to the school’s official website, then drew a USB drive from her pocket and inserted it deftly, ready to execute the program she had prepared.

Neal watched her every move, curiosity and admiration mingling in his gaze.

With his background in computer science, Neal quickly recognized the programming language Fernanda was using—it was immediately clear she was attempting to access the university’s internal system.

“Are you trying to manipulate your grades?” he asked, his tone skeptical. “That won’t go unnoticed. They’ll detect it fast.”

“No,” Fernanda replied, her eyes locked on the screen as she waited for the program to run. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I’m trying to uncover who tampered with my grades.”

Ector tensed beside her, concern flickering in his expression.

“What? Your grades were altered?”

“Yes,” she said with a firm nod, frustration sharpening her voice. “I’m certain of how I performed on the exam. There’s no way my scores should be that low.”

“That seems a bit far-fetched,” Neal muttered, scratching his head. “The staff handles the grading. Maybe you just overestimated how well you did? It happens. People think they aced something and get shocked when the real scores show otherwise.”

He’d seen it happen countless times—people riding a wave of misplaced confidence, only to crash when reality hit. Maybe Fernanda was one of them.

But Fernanda didn’t answer. She remained focused, her fingers flying steadily across the keyboard.

Arguing would be pointless. The evidence would speak louder than any explanation once she found the tampering records.

The computer screen was a deep black, layered with lines of glowing green text, cascading like a digital waterfall. Fernanda’s hands moved with sharp precision, keystrokes swift and fluid.

At first, Neal could track the commands, but soon they morphed into complex sequences that slipped beyond his grasp. The code became increasingly sophisticated, far more advanced than anything he’d encountered in his studies.

The entire room fell into a focused silence—only their soft breathing, the low hum of the computer, and the rhythmic clack of keys filled the space.

As time passed, the green text on the screen began scrolling faster, accelerating toward something significant.

Neal, feeling the strain of standing too long, grabbed a nearby chair and sat down with a sigh.

Glancing at Ector, who remained calmly leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Neal murmured,

“Hey, you might want to grab a seat too. Looks like this isn’t ending anytime soon.”

Ector gave a quiet nod and replied softly,

“Thanks,”

though he made no move, staying exactly where he was.

Suddenly, the computer screen flickered. The eerie green glow that had filled the room disappeared, and the browser reverted back to the academic affairs office’s grade page—the same one Fernanda had been analyzing. But now, something was different.

An additional line had appeared. Next to her current scores was a new label: “Deleted.”

“What the hell?” Neal’s eyes widened in shock.

“Did someone actually tamper with your grades?”

Ector pushed off the wall and stepped forward to examine the screen. His eyes scanned the details and quickly caught on: Fernanda’s original grades were all more than ten points higher than the current ones.

Neal stared in disbelief, then gave Fernanda a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Unbelievable—your scores are higher than the top student right now. Were you always this brilliant?”

Fernanda offered a faint smile, saying nothing more as she calmly saved a copy of the screen onto her USB drive.

“So, what’s your next move?” Neal asked, still stunned.

“It’s too late to do anything tonight,” Fernanda said, her voice steady with determination.

“Tomorrow, I’ll go straight to the dean and demand an explanation.”

.

.

.