Some of the guys at the back seats started to grunt, arms crossed, faces bored on purpose.
One of them is tall, built like a gym rat, he leaned back in his chair and said out loud, "Can we just get this over with? Teach your boring history crap so we can leave."
It wasn’t about the class, not really.
Ian wasn’t boring. If anything, he’s a great teacher.
But the guys in the room would never admit that. And that’s because the girls obviously like Ian...and they were crushing madly on him. The boys couldn’t get the chicks because the chicks had their eyes on someone else.
Ian grabbed his fries without saying a word, stood up, and walked toward the classroom door like he had all the time in the world. He opened it with a quiet click, held it there, and turned back to the kid.
"You’re free to leave," he said, calm as anything. "Door’s right here."
The room fell silent. Even the snack wrappers stopped crinkling.
The guy stood up slow, making a show of it. His chair dragged back. He didn’t take his bag. Didn’t break eye contact. Just walked straight down like he owned the classroom.
When he got to Ian, he stopped way too close. "What, you think you’re tough?" he said, squinting just a little. "Just ’cause a few girls laugh at your dumb jokes?"
Ian looked at him, still chewing, unfazed. The rıghtful source is NoveI~Fire.net
Then, with zero heat in his voice, he muttered around the fry, "Just fuck off, man."
The guy blinked, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.
Ian sighed, reached into the bag, grabbed another fry. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t lean in. Just said it a little louder this time.
"I said go fuck your mother."
The words hit the room like a brick through glass.
The students in the room gasped. A girl in the second row covered her mouth. Even the kid’s own friends didn’t say anything. The whole class froze.
The guy’s face went red. Like blood-boiling red. "You son of a....!" he snapped, stepping forward, arm twitching like he was about to swing.
Ian didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just took another bite of his fry like they were talking about the weather.
And then the kid stopped himself.
The thought must’ve caught up to him, if he hit a lecturer, especially in front of a full class? That’d be it. He’d be out. Expelled, he would even be charged on physical assault.
So he just stood there, breathing hard. Fists clenched. Frozen.
Ian stared at him, bored now.
The boy stood there for a few more seconds, his chest rising and falling like he was still thinking about it. Like maybe he’d change his mind, maybe he’d throw the punch anyway and just let the consequences come. But he didn’t.
Instead, with his jaw tight and pride already shattered, he turned on his heel and stormed out. The door slammed behind him harder than it needed to. Still, no one said a word. Not even his friends.
Ian didn’t look up from the fries.
He took another, popped it into his mouth, chewed slowly. He casually brushed his hands together, then looked around at the rest of the room.
"So..." he said, his voice even, almost tired. "Anyone else wanna leave?"
Silence! The whole lecture room was silent, they didn’t dare to make a sound. Ian might be young, but he’s a lecturer and he’s strict.
Even the guys who’d been snickering earlier stared straight ahead now. Some looked at their desks. A few girls were still wide-eyed. Nobody dare to move.
"Cool," Ian said after a beat, grabbing a napkin and wiping his fingers. He crumpled it up, tossed it into the bin next to the desk, and leaned back in his chair for a second.
He exhaled through his nose, then stood up and crossed to the side table, where the projector remote was. One click, and the screen behind him blinked to life. The slide loaded up in capital letters:
The Rise and Fall of Napoleon Bonaparte
He turned to face the class, arms crossed loosely as he leaned against the table.
"Alright," he said, voice still low but clearer now, back in his rhythm. "Let’s talk about Napoleon. You’ve heard the name. You’ve seen the memes. Short guy, right? Had an ego bigger than France."
A few students chuckled. A few smiled, unsure if it was safe to laugh yet.
Ian let the silence settle before he went on.
"But forget all that for a second. Forget what you think you know. The guy wasn’t a joke. He was one of the smartest military minds in recorded history. Came from almost nothing. Corsican nobody. Rose through a revolution, outplayed everyone, crowned himself emperor, and nearly took over all of Europe before it all collapsed around him."
He started to pace, hands moving just a little, the way they always did when he taught.
"He rewrote how wars were fought. He scared monarchs. He broke centuries old systems and built his own from scratch. And yeah, he also made some dumb decisions near the end. But he changed the world in a way most of us don’t really understand."
The projector flipped to a map....Europe during Napoleon’s reign.
Ian nodded toward it.
"This wasn’t just about battles. It was about ideas. About ambition. Power. Failure. It was about how far one man can go before the world decides he’s gone too far."
Now they were listening.
Even the ones who pretend to hate being there were listening attentively.