In this class of learning, the moment the teacher stepped out, all the students raised guns, swords, and all sorts of deadly weapons against each other.
Their cold eyes already spelled the fate of their classmates even before the venom of their weapons.
Ohta tried to convince himself that this was some kind of prank. Maybe he had somehow ended up in one of those Reality TV shows.
However, he could smell the very familiar scent of gun powder from the muzzle of the M16 against his head, holding the gun was Timi—the new friend he had just made.
Although Ohta had never held guns in this life, his experiences with them in the previous one were as rich as a mouse in a corn field.
Ohta couldn't help but curse at his father in his mind. He finally convinced his father to send him to school and Utada agreed.
Now that he thought about it, there was no way a man as stubborn as Utada the Terrible would just agree to the threats of a sixteen-year-old boy.
Utada tricked him.
Ohta looked around. Even though weapons were already pointed at their intended targets, no one made a move.
It was that forbidden silent moment amongst foes were everyone knew what was about to happen but nobody made the first move.
Ohta slowly turned to his side. To Timi pointing the gun.
Ohta could not help but feel a bit betrayed at the moment. After all, he had met this guy only minutes from entering the class, and the first person Timi was pointing his weapon to, was him.
However, Ohta was only bothered about that in passing.
His rich experience about life had taught him to always expect the worst from people.
Ohta's attention was more on the index finger of the fat boy.
He could clearly see that Timi was very tempted to pull the trigger. His chubby fingers slowly left the trigger guard and settled on the trigger.
Ohta could also see that the fat boy was sweating profusely from his head. He looked around with the side of his eyes.
There were air conditioners in the room. This meant that Timi could only be sweating because of nervousness.
For Ohta, this was a good thing. Although the fat boy held the gun, Ohta was more in control.
Now that he took a better look around, he could see that a lot of the students had one form of nervousness or the other.
Some had shaky fingers, for others, it was excessive swallowing. Apparently, a good number of them were not so experienced in battles.
The entire place was quiet. If a pin fell to the ground, it would definitely be heard.
Soon enough, it did. But in the form of sweat.
The accumulated drops of sweat from Timi's forehead slowly gathered under his chin, and when it could hold no longer, a drop was let loose.
It kissed the floor in a splatter.
Timi's index finger instinctively moved, pressing the trigger.
However, the moment it did, so did Ohta. He dove to the ground, rushing under the nearest desk.
That drop of sweat to the ground was the whistle that began the match.
Projectiles were made airborne like rockets during the Chinese new year celebration.
*Raatartatta* *whoosh* *Clank* *Slash*
Under the desk, Ohta could hear the exploding release of bullets mixed with the loud clanking of blade against blade, and hard slashings that escorted it all.
On the floor fell empty shells from used rounds, and all around were hypnotic bright flashes of light that helped reveal what was happening above with the shadows of the fighters on the wall.
Ohta stayed as low as he could, not daring to come out. What if he was hit by some stray bullet or something?
He really did not like violence but it seemed like trouble followed this former Mafia boss everywhere like a plague.
Meanwhile, in a different room, men and women sat around a table.
One of them was Miss Carol, the Homeroom teacher for class 1a.
Even while sitting, her tall slim frame was not at all hidden.
She had fitted glasses on her nose bridge and her office outfit let loose some obvious cleavage at the top of her blouse.
Her eyes, just like the others in the room were fixed on a holographic screen showing the violent activities occurring in the class.
All of them watching the event held different appointments in Avalon High School.
Back at the class, Ohta held his head to the ground as low as he could, hoping that all the madness above would suddenly end.
By some stroke of luck, it finally did.
He slowly opened his eyes.
All over the floor were his classmates. "Thank Heavens, it's finally over" he sighed as he encouraged himself to come out of hiding.
However, the moment he did, he noticed that two people were left standing.
One was a young girl with overflowing blonde hair. It was the same girl that had sat close to him before.
She had on each hand pistols. From the looks of it, they were SIG-Sauer P228-custom-made nickel guns.
This Ohta knew because of his rich experiences in the other life with guns.
She looked a lot different from her shy and lovable look from moments ago.
Rather, she wore a crazed expression on her face.
The person opposite her was a blue haired young boy.
He had in his hand a Katana and was in a formal Samurai stance ready for battle. Both of them looked fiercely at each other, breathing heavily.
By some miracle, even though the chaos was fierce and many tables and chairs destroyed, Ohta's pen and notebook he remained on his table.
Ohta raised his head to peep at the two, but accidentally touched the pen and it rolled—falling off the table.
The pen hit the ground, dragging the attention of both fighters to him.
"Shit!" he cursed.
The Samurai boy and the gun-wielding girl turned nearly at the same time in his direction.
The two-man showdown had suddenly become a three-man showdown.
All three pairs of eyes locked on to each other.
The crazy eyes, the Fierce eyes, and the hiding-peeping eyes.