His face was framed by a salt-and-pepper beard.
Freckles dotted the sides of his face. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, but the clean-shaven strip down the centre of his scalp made it clear that he was bald, yet he refused to let the rest go.
This was the supervisor of the Magical Swordsman boy’s dorm.
He wore a white, long-sleeved, collared shirt, with their arms folded up to reveal his thick, hairy forearms. Behind him, a long, metallic board was positioned on the right side of the wall, featuring holographic text and details describing:
The top ten most monitored students. Often, commoners or nobles with volatile tendencies.
Recently penalised dorm violations. Surprisingly, the break-in that occurred in my room wasn’t mentioned.
"Mr Ezekiel. I heard that you were injured and taken to the hospital for treatment. Fortunately, it seems that you’ve recovered."
"Since you came directly to my office. I suspect that the matter you want to discuss is of utmost urgency. What is it?" asked Sinbad. His tone was tinged with his curiosity.
Pity. Amusement. Hatred.
His gaze showed everything I needed to know.
Milas’ accusations weren’t unfounded.
"I was discharged from the hospital yesterday," I replied.
"When I returned to my room. I noticed that it was vandalised. However, the security lock was still in place and secured. I met someone inside, sitting on my bed, who told me that he had collected my dorm room security key from you to enter my room."
As I spoke, my expression turned serious.
I locked my gaze with his.
"Mr Sinbad. I want to know why you gave someone else my dorm room security key without authorisation, and how it was shared online."
His face twitched. But they quickly turned into surprise, then twisted into confusion.
"What do you mean? I don’t understand what you are saying, Mr Ezekiel. I’ven’t given anyone your dorm room security key since you were at the hospital." He shook his head vigorously, with a look of disbelief plastered across his face as he swiftly denied the accusation.
Although my reputation wasn’t of much help against students from prestigious backgrounds, that didn’t mean just anyone could disrespect me.
I was still a direct descendant and an heir of the Zahara Clan.
Despite all the maltreatment I went through in the clan, my servants didn’t dare display such ill will towards me.
Although they experienced a portion of the same abuse I lived through, they didn’t have the same protection as I, as a direct descendant and heir of the Zahara Clan.
But that didn’t stop them from throwing heaps of insults at my back.
But I never confronted them about it because it was the only way they could vent the violent mix of emotions bottled within them.
There were a few exceptions where they had been bribed and protected by other members of the clan.
The clan’s target was still mainly me.
Everyone else was a casualty.
It was precisely the same experience that I had gone through within the academy.
Individuals like Sinbad favoured students with prestigious backgrounds because it was easier to establish a connection with them, hoping that the relationship would blossom into something beneficial.
However, that also meant that they were unlikely to stand against others of significant status.
The last supervisor knew that getting involved with me was a bad idea. So he ignored my existence. As long as I didn’t cause any problems, he wouldn’t bother me.
However, there were limits to his intelligence.
He got ahead of himself after receiving assurance that he was given the protection of a noble backer.
He exercised that power over another student.
Shortly after, he knelt before the student for the release of his family, stating that they had kidnapped them.
Once the academy became aware of the issue, it promptly initiated an investigation.
However, the dorm supervisor resigned shortly after.
There was only so much that they could do, and since the victim didn’t want to push any charges, the academy could only drop the matter.
I didn’t keep track of idle gossip because I found it a waste of time.
But the last time I heard, the former dorm supervisor had lost all of his properties and was now living in a shelter home with his family.
It was pitiful and tragic.
But it was enough to send a message.
Lick like a dog but remain neutral.
As the new supervisor, Sinbad must have already heard about this matter.
Was he threatened to carry out such a task?
Did he do this voluntarily, of his own will, to take advantage of my current situation?
It didn’t matter to me.
Since he had carried out such actions then he should naturally be prepared to face the consequences.
The atmosphere became eerie silent.
I noticed the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.
He wasn’t skilled at this.
I stretched my hand up.
I raised a finger and said, "I’ll give you two options. First, admit that you’re the one responsible for this. Send a plumber and a repairer to fix my kitchen and toilet. Change the security key lock. Lastly, send an apology basket of groceries of footstuffs for a week for wasting my time."
I raised another. "Second, the first option and a beating."
"I have other things to handle, so I’ll appreciate it if you can quickly answer," I advised.
Sinbad’s expression darkened.
He slammed both hands against the table, eliciting a thunderous ’Bam,’ and barked, "Are you trying to threaten me, Mr Ezekiel? Have you forgotten the rules of the academy? Do you think that I wouldn’t dare report you?" He glared at me with rage and indignation in his eyes.
I raised my right hand and stretched my pinky finger into my ear for a light pinch.
I brought it out a second later and aimed it at him.