One of the lecturers, a man with greying hair at his temples, tapped his fingers against the table. "Hold on a second. How did you even get these documents? Weren't all access points restricted? And even if there was forgery involved, who's to say the evidence you're presenting is valid?"

Alaric held his breath for a moment, his eyes gleaming with a trace of irritation. He had expected this question to come.

In a firm tone, he said, "You can check them yourself. These documents are authentic. Their contents are clearly different from the designs I created. In fact, the forged ones copied several sections from my work."

Silence followed. No one spoke. The only sound in the room was the flipping of paper.

A female lecturer, speaking in a gentler voice, tried to ease the tension. "But, Alaric… even so, without an explanation of how you obtained these documents, it's hard for us to—"

Alaric spoke quickly, his tone flat. "I have nothing more to say. The truth is clear. If you or anyone else doubts it, feel free to prove it through your own means. My job was only to show the truth I hold."

He stood up. The chair he had been sitting in scraped slightly across the floor, its sound sharp and loud. His gaze briefly met the campus head before shifting to the two professors, who were still frozen, their eyes glued to the documents on the table.

"I'll be on my way."

The sound of his footsteps echoed as he walked out. No one tried to stop him. No one spoke. Not even a word of farewell. The door clicked shut behind him with a simple push from his hand.

The campus head, the female professor, and the senior lecturer exchanged glances. There was no decision, no comment. Just one thing hanging in their minds: if Alaric was telling the truth, then who was behind all of this? And what was their purpose?

Outside, Alaric took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm the turmoil inside him. His backpack, which had been weighing down his shoulders, felt even heavier now... as if it, too. Was carrying the burden of the tense meeting with the campus head.

He was about to turn toward his classroom when his eyes suddenly froze on someone. A student stood not far away, tall and upright with an ordinary posture. But that face yes, that face, he remembered it.

Alaric paused, his mind racing. "Him again..."

That student... he didn't seem like just an ordinary student. Their glance earlier, though brief, seemed to open the curtain on a world she hadn't yet fully accessed. And maybe he can.

This was no stranger. Alaric recognized him now. This was the third time he'd encountered this student in strange circumstances. The first time had been at the police station when the accusations against him were still fresh. The second had been in the campus library just days ago, when their eyes had met briefly between the shelves. And now, here they were again.

They both stopped, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged, even though no words were spoken. The student looked at Alaric for a while, as if he wanted to say something. But no words came.

Alaric, ever perceptive, knew immediately that something was on this student's mind. For a brief moment, he saw hesitation, a questioning glint in the student's eyes. But before Alaric could read it further, the student turned quickly, as if nothing had happened, as if that moment of connection had been nothing but a brief illusion.

A smile appeared on the student's face. Not mocking, not forced, but something odd. With that smile, he turned and walked away, leaving Alaric standing there alone in the corridor.

Alaric stood still, his eyes following the student's retreating figure, which soon disappeared into the crowd. His heart fluttered, not with anger or offense, but with confusion. "What did that mean?" Alaric muttered quietly to himself.

He knew for sure that it wasn't a mocking smile. The look in the student's eyes. The brief pause, the quick glance away, followed by that strange smile. It all formed a puzzling picture. It was as if this student knew something about him, but chose not to say.

It was more like a delayed message, an unspoken secret. Why was the student looking at him like that? And the smile etched on his face, though it seemed a sly one.

Alaric let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Maybe I'm just overthinking things," he whispered to himself.

With that, he moved on, leaving the corridor behind. The feeling of curiosity lingered in his mind, the student now locked away in the mystery box along with other unsolved puzzles in his head.

Today, Alaric decided to truly let go. All the weight of the past few weeks, the stares, the gossip, the uncertainty from the university administration and the professors. He considered it all over. It was no longer his concern.

"If they want to be slow to act, that's their problem, not mine," he thought nonchalantly, though he was well aware that the consequences would likely hit him first.

With that in mind, he walked into his classroom. The room was just as usual. Alaric dropped his bag on the desk, sat down, and leaned back slightly. He stared at the blackboard with an air of detachment, making a conscious effort not to get caught up in anything.

Were people still judging him? Maybe. He could hear whispers behind him, and a few sidelong glances from his classmates. But to Alaric, it was nothing more than passing shadows. He paid it no mind. The lecture passed without him being fully engaged. Taking notes casually, answering a question from the professor only when necessary, then returning to his quiet silence.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. The low hum of students filled the air as they rushed out, each heading off with their own plans. But Alaric had no plans today; he thought his issues were settled. Everything had been carefully arranged yesterday.

He walked out. The campus was bustling with activity as the late afternoon sun bathed the grounds in a warm golden hue. Students hurried off to their next commitments, some stopping at the cafeteria, others sitting in the park.

Alaric's gaze drifted upward. The sky had started to shift into a rich, golden gradient. He walked slowly down the campus stairs, his mind beginning to relax as the day unfolded without incident. But his calm was short-lived.

In the distance, something caught his eye that made him stop dead in his tracks. A boy, likely in his early teens, was running frantically, almost stumbling. He had entered the campus grounds but quickly darted out again, heading in a direction that Alaric could guess.

The boy's steps were erratic, as though he were being chased. And indeed, behind him, a man with a striking appearance was hot on his trail. His long, messy hair, black leather jacket covered in metal emblems, and a chain hanging loosely at his waist. His walk and the way he pursued the boy made it clear that this wasn't a mere game of tag.

Alaric's gaze sharpened. Instinct kicked in. "What the hell is going on here?" he murmured under his breath. But before his mind could process the situation, his body had already started moving.

Without thinking, he sprinted toward the scene. His eyes were locked on the boy, who was being cornered more and more, his faint cries for help barely audible. A few students had noticed the commotion, but none of them made a move to intervene.

Alaric weaved through the crowd, his empathy and instinct pushing him forward. He didn't know the boy, didn't know the reason for the chase, but one thing was certain: no child should be hunted down like this by someone dressed like a thug.

His body shot forward without a second thought. Like a mechanism running automatically, his feet moved faster, crossing the crowd of students who still didn't seem to understand what was happening.

The atmosphere shifted. The students who had noticed now followed Alaric with their eyes, whispers spreading quickly through the crowd. But Alaric didn't care. His only thought was to get to the boy.

It felt like the whole world depended on how quickly he could get there and stop the man.

He pushed himself harder, his body leaning forward as his fists clenched. His eyes narrowed, no longer the gaze of an ordinary student, but someone prepared for whatever confrontation lay ahead.

The air seemed to thicken, as if even time was holding its breath. The boy glanced back over his shoulder, his wide, fearful eyes meeting Alaric's. For a brief moment, there was a spark of hope there... like the boy believed someone had finally come to his aid.

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