A Quiet Life Denied

Serena Caldwell stood with perfect posture, shoulders straight and chin tilted at just the right angle, as if the world itself were her audience. Her long chestnut-brown hair fell in sleek waves over a fitted sports jacket, not a strand out of place despite the chaos of the arena around them. Her expression was serene but sharp, lips curled in the faintest trace of a smile that felt more like judgment than joy. Every movement of hers carried deliberation, like she'd practiced in a mirror until perfection became second nature.

She stood at the center of the five girls like a self-proclaimed monarch, one hand on her hip, the other waving theatrically as she explained her "strategy." The faint smirk tugging her lips was the kind only someone used to being the loudest in the room could wear.

Franz leaned back slightly, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, eyes drifting toward the so-called "leader" of their little group.

They were playing a game.

"Mini… Myneee… Moe," Serena sang softly, her finger landing on the last member of the group—a nervous-looking girl who immediately shook her head in panic.

"Uh-uh. Nope. I can't run, I have asthma—!"

"You lost. Flag duty is yours," Serena said with a flat smile, brushing invisible lint off her pristine shoulder like she was assigning a maid a chore. "Rules are rules."

Franz dragged a hand down his face, sighing."What did I do to get stuck with her…"

She was exactly like this in the novel. Loud, arrogant, magnetic enough to make people follow her, even when she was dragging them straight off a cliff. Always needed to be the center of attention. If Zane was "protagonist luck incarnate," then Serena was "spotlight addiction" personified.

The four other girls standing with them—her loyal sidekicks—looked like wilted flowers. Nervous, fidgety, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them was actually wheezing faintly. Franz squinted. …Oh. Asthma. Great.

Serena clapped her hands together, smirking."Alright, this is easy. We'll make Jessica the flag bearer."

Jessica—the asthmatic—went pale. "M-me? But—"

Serena waved her off. "Don't worry! We'll protect you. You just stay in the back and breathe."

One of the quieter girls turned to Franz hesitantly. "Um… what about you? What are you going to do?"

Franz blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, you," she said quickly. "She's about to make a girl with asthma the flag bearer. You know if the flag bearer's caught, the whole team fails, right?"

Franz shrugged. "I don't give a fuck about the exam. It's stupid anyway. I'm a business major—why the hell am I supposed to take a test to be James Bond?"

The girl stared at him like he'd just dropped a grenade. "Don't you know? Based on the results of these tests they're forming a special class. Scholarships, internships, networking opportunities—stuff normal students can't even dream of. You do know that, right?"

Franz froze for a beat. "…Oh. Right. There was something like that."

Her face said you've gotta be kidding me before she shuffled back toward Serena, giving up on him.

Franz gritted his teeth and looked inward."You two have one job—feed me the important information. And somehow you still fuck it up."

[Quiet Life System: You didn't ask.]

<Arcadia: Valid. And shouldn't you be questioning why you're even doing these things?>

Franz muttered under his breath. "You useless pieces of shit are really putting this on me? I was going with the flow, and you were supposed to help—not just sit there and fuck with me."

[Quiet Life System: Stop wasting time. Clock is ticking. And you didn't look too confident on the written test either.]

<Arcadia: If you score low here too, you'll be separated from the main cast. Protecting them later will be… troublesome.>

Franz's jaw clenched. "I swear, if you two were human, I'd fill you both with bullets—mouth to asshole."

[Quiet Life System: Quit yapping and move before they make Asthma Girl the flag bearer.]

<Arcadia: The clock is ticking.>

He exhaled sharply. "Fine. I'll deal with it myself. Because unlike you two wastes of space, I still have a brain."

Franz stepped forward lazily, scratching the back of his head. "Fine. I'll do it. Flag bearer."

That caught all of them off guard. Serena actually blinked. "You?"

"Yeah," Franz said evenly. "Flag bearer's the most important role. The king. And if I'm king…" His eyes flicked over them one by one. "…that makes the rest of you my loyal servants."

Two of the sidekicks stifled laughter. Even Jessica managed a weak smile.

But Serena? Her jaw clenched. "Excuse me? Servants? Did you just—"

Franz nodded solemnly, completely unbothered. "Servants. Attendants. Background extras. Same thing."

Her face flushed red. "There's no way you're the king. If anyone's flag bearer, it's me!"

Franz tilted his head, feigning thought. "Oh? You want it? Hm. Guess I could let you borrow the crown. Just don't drop it."

That was it. Her pride snapped like a brittle stick."Fine! I'll do it. I'll be the flag bearer!" she declared, pointing dramatically at her own chest.

"Perfect," Franz said, already turning away. "Glad we settled that. Long live the queen."

The four other girls visibly relaxed, a wave of relief spreading across their faces. Jessica mouthed thank you when Serena wasn't looking.

[Quiet Life System: Host avoided disaster with minimal effort. Efficiency acknowledged.]

<Arcadia: And he bruised her ego so perfectly. Almost poetic.>

Franz rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Shut the fuck up, retards. Let's win this thing. You're always saying I didn't ask—fine. This time, let's see how the hell you can actually help me win."

A few moments later.

...

...

The whistle blew, echoing through the cavernous gym. Dust rose as sneakers slammed into concrete.

Franz stood still for a beat, his breathing measured. Inhale. Exhale. The hood of his sweatshirt shadowed his face, but steam curled from his lips in the cold air. His chest rose and fell in calm, deliberate rhythm—controlled, steady, like a warhorse before the charge.

For a heartbeat, the girls around him froze. Even Serena, so quick to fill the air with her voice, went silent. Her eyes lingered on him—not with irritation this time, but with something sharper. A spark.

The scoreboard flared to life above the arena, bathing everything in cold neon light

"Blue Team—Victory!"

Franz dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard.

"…What the fuck just happened?" he muttered under his breath.