Someone whispered excitedly next to me, eyes shining as they gazed at the center of the commotion. This was the perfect opportunity, a perfect chance to pick a side.
Nearly risk-free!
A chance to show one's face in front of the big shots of the Fighting Club and the Student Union.
Hearing this, Young Master Zhang shifted his gaze away from the figure in black Swordsman's clothes and glanced at his companion, sneering with a trace of derision, "Help the Student Union? If I really went up there, that would be—"
Then he looked at this companion of his, who was so eager to climb up the ladder, and shaped the words with his mouth:
"Idiot."
He tilted his head slightly, signaling the noble students among the dozen Army Reserve special recruits following him, and then—
Turned and left.
After all, Young Master Zhang was someone of stature; how could he possibly stand up for these second-generation kids with rust in their brains.
