THE OMEGA RECRUIT

The moment Scott left the training grounds, the place burst into noise.

"Wha—!!?"

"I thought he was trash!"

"They said his punch was that of an amateur!"

"No..! My money."

All these were some of the words said by various cadets.

Amid the chaos stood John Torino.

Clap!

The moment he clapped, steadily, the training grounds became quiet

"Ok, guys, it's time to withdraw your earnings."

ZIMMM!

A blue holographic screen appeared in the air, on which the percentage was written:

99.9 percent of the cadets voted that Scott would lose, and only 0.1 percent selected he would win.

"Damn!"

"We were cheated!"

"John, you knew!, You worked with him."

The cadets groaned in disbelief, and John responded with a slow, sinister smile.

"Well, how was I supposed to know? I don't know him? We're not that close."

"But you were the only one who voted for him, and you put in a huge amount!"

One of the cadets heckled.

"Nobody takes that kind of risk for someone they don't know."

Another added.

"Ok guys.."

John smiled as he raised his hands.

"Let's see who else bet on him."

John tapped on the screen and saw four people bet that Scott would win.

"Hmm.. I didn't think they would be this many, John thought to himself," his expression changed the moment he saw a profile."

"Cherry bomber? I never thought she gambled, or she'll even bet on Scott to win..., and the others..?"

He scrolled down, trying to access the other two profiles, but they were set to be anonymous.

"See!" John said as he showed them the screen.

"N—no!, That doesn't prove anything!"

The cadets continued to protest.

"Maybe you created a fake account..!"

"Yeah...!!"

"Give us our money!!, Give us our money, the crowd chanted, their voice rising in protest."

One of the cadets rushed at John, trying to get hold of him, and in a split second, John grabbed his arm and twisted it, dislocating his shoulder and his elbow.

He then raised his leg and smashed it on the head of the cadet. The cadet passed out, blood rushing out of his head.

The tone of the crowd shifted, and they all fell silent.

John's face turned from a pushover to a killer. He looked at the cadets viciously, radiating killing intent. They all backed up, fearing for their lives.

John smiled, breaking the tension. He dusted his clothes and walked straight to the exit. The crowd of cadets began to disperse as he passed, not to get in his way.

"Damn, I forgot, with that calm demeanor, that he is 005."

One of the cadets mumbled

"Yeah..," another cadet muttered, "they're all monsters."

Scott walked gallantly to his room, as various soldiers, cadets from different units talked about him

"Yeah, that's him."

"The trash 001?"

"That's impressive."

His face was emotionless as he walked uniformly, replicating each step like a robot.

He walked into his dorm and entered his room. He turned on the sound proofer function and shouted.

"YES....!!!, LET'S GO....!!"

"Ha...! I was so cool."

"HURG!, HA! , CHA!!, WA!!, UOTSU!!"

He started making weird noises as he shadow-boxed throughout the room. He laid down on the bed and let out a deep sigh.

"Haa....."

Finally, his mind is at peace, now the cadets will no longer look down on him. But he did not rest; it was not time to be complacent.

He looked around, and in the corner, there was a green bag. He picked it up, and inside, there was a watch. He put the watch on his arm and tapped on it; a floating screen appeared.

"Hmmm, just as planned."

He said to himself, grinning.

Unknown to the cadets, one of the private accounts that bet on Scott, was Scott!.

He had already suspected a bet was going to be held and had already set his computer to put a huge amount of money on him.

His mouth watered as he imagined all the ways he could spend the money.

But then he snapped back to reality, shaking off the thoughts before they pulled him in too deep.

"I should send some to Mum."

Scott said to himself.

He sent his mother one million velrin.

Although cadets were blocked from interacting with the outside world, Scott was able to hack the system to send the money.

Intrigued, Scott opened the betting slip again to see who had bet in his favor.

He scrolled through and saw an Anonymous profile, Cherry Bomber and John Torino.

"Wow.. a million velrin..., I wouldn't even put that on myself," he muttered.

"And cherry....? No one ever really knew what was going on in her head."

Rubbing his chin as he stared at the numbers, he took a glance at the clock and saw it was almost time for his evening run.

"Gotta go to bed..," he thought.

As he snuggled himself into the warm embrace of his bed with a wide smile on his face, sleeping on his bed not as a failure, but as a champion.

On the rooftop of a building across from Scott's dorm, a figure crouched low, a pair of sleek binoculars pressed to his eyes.

He watched the glowing window with unsettling calm.

"Scott, huh..." he muttered. "I think he runs at 7 o'clock."

The digital watch on his wrist blinked: 04:00 AM.

"I'll wait."

He lowered the binoculars, revealing a familiar face — cold, unreadable.

John Torino.

With a ghost of a smile, he leaned back into the shadows, his cloak fluttering slightly in the wind.

"Let's see."

Meanwhile, far from the training grounds, in a room bathed in soft pink neon.

Cherry sat alone, legs crossed, gaze fixed on a floating screen showing the betting stats.

She said.... nothing.