Classroom Of The Elite 2 の小説・ストーリー

--- That afternoon. Ella sat quietly in an empty classroom reviewing lecture notes. The door suddenly slammed open. Several students entered. Two boys. Three girls. Known campus troublemakers. They walked directly toward her. Ella didn't even look up. A mocking laugh sounded. "So this is the abandoned daughter?" The leader grabbed her notebook. Then threw it onto the floor. Splash! A bottle of water followed. Her notes instantly became soaked. The classroom erupted with laughter. Outside the room. Bella watched from a distance.

I heard Levy screaming as she walked away. Mother of cow. I couldn't help but stare in awe as I saw our classroom. The walls were of cream color with intricate designs carved on each wall. There were large windows with the emblem of Claw, giving a faint ray of sunshine that brightens up the room. Three chandeliers are hanging above and there are six long tables. I immediately frowned upon realizing the fact that I can't cheat easily. "Move aside." A deep voice came from behind. Mother of cow! Don't tell me I'm inside a class with my CEO?!

“So, what class are you in? I have yet to look at the class list.” Nonchalantly, Hestia replied, “Class 2-2.” she then heard a gasp from the torah girl. “No, we got separated.” with a sad face, Excami entered the elevator with a pout. “Why, what class are you anyway?” the rookie undercover spy inquired.

Even the children of elites in NUAT are extremely intelligent. The dinner at the Skyline Club—an exclusive penthouse haunt where the air was thin and the commoners were invisible—had been a masterclass in elite damage control. It was far removed from the sirens and chants echoing at the university gates. The table was set with fine bone china and silver that gleamed under the crystal chandelier.

There were no words. Just an attachment. Frowning, I tapped the image. At first, it looked blurry. Dark shapes behind frosted glass. Then my stomach dropped. Two figures. Standing extremely close together inside a classroom. One taller. One leaning forward slightly. Even distorted through the blurry quality, I recognized us immediately. My breathing stopped. The timestamp at the bottom corner read: BLACKWOOD HIGH — ROOM 214. The classroom. My fingers suddenly felt numb around the phone. No text followed. No threat. No explanation.

The moment he heard it, Klenth choked and spat his coffee all over his laptop. She laughed at his reaction. Of course, anyone would be shocked to know she was married to Gian Saldivar. “What the fuck!” Klenth cursed. “My god, the laptop! This is Kuya’s laptop!” That’s what you get, playboy. Throwing ‘honey-honey’ at me. “Good night, Klenth,” she said, grabbing her milk and walking away. Maybe I should change taste. Engineers aren’t my thing anymore, she thought to herself.

LUTON PREP BOARDING SCHOOL MANHATTAN 11 YEARS AGO, TWO WEEKS BEFORE SPRING BREAK AND THE BENOIT AND DALTON CAR CRASH. “You’re late Elsida,” Professor Muton raises his eyebrow as she steps into the classroom. Students snicker and mumble incoherent words as she stalks to the only empty seat situated in front of the classroom. Her leg skids to a stop when she notices the occupant of the seat next to hers. Julien’s head is bowed, oblivious to the murmurs around him. His gaze rooted to the phone in his hands.

Clara drove in and pulled over in the parking lot, before she could get out of the car the kids already got out and ran towards the entrance. Clara picked up the file she got from Malia’s house and got out of the car too. The kids got in and ran past people, everyone knew who they were already. Kaylee and Kaylen waved at familiar faces as they ran to the elevator. “Madam Tokyo is having a class.” One of the staff rushed to them to stop them but they ignored her. They pressed the button to the seventh floor knowing where the class was being held, the elevator doors closed before the staff could get to them and they laughed at her.

he said, finally meeting my gaze. I smiled and stepped inside, the air feeling different compared to the outside. I inhaled deeply, taking in my dream school. The campus was so vast that it would require a car just to navigate. On the far right were the Elite Mansions, reserved for the crème de la crème—those who could afford the outrageous fees. When I found out how much a single room cost, I nearly fainted. It was even pricier than the tuition. I had heard that’s where Alphas, Betas, and the offspring of wealthy tycoons stayed.

All the hurdles of the day had fallen backward. We didn't need the parking lot to alight. The driver drove straight to the entrance, and we got off and headed inside. The inside was the most eye-catching place I have ever seen. Comparing it to Elite was like comparing a stool and a chair. The walls are made of glass, aligned with what artists called gold plates, which was the opposite of Elite. Everyone was just docking their head to Mr. Philip as we passed, and I could help but wonder why they gave him such respect when he was not the Head of Classy Heels. “Lucas Dowell must be something more,” I thought to myself.