As the bell rang, there was a brief pause. An eerie, collective stillness settled over the room.
Everyone remained seated like statues, not a single chair creaked, not a bag zipped. The professor blinked, mildly puzzled. It was the first ti he’d seen them so... well-behaved.
Normally, the re chi of the bell was like triggering a fire alarm in a zoo—students would leap up, scramble to pack their things, and dash for the door like prisoners breaking free after a twenty-year sentence. It was tradition. Chaos was part of the syllabus.
But today? Nothing. Just serene silence.
Shrugging it off, the professor calmly gathered his notes and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
And then, like a switch had been flipped, every head in the classroom swiveled in perfect sync toward one person.
Rex.
It was unnerving.
Dozens of eyes locked onto him with unnatural precision—like so evil robot army awakening from standby mode in a dystopian sci-fi flick. Even Daisy and Elara, who usually avoided group theatrics, had turned with the rest. Daisy’s expression was openly curious, while Elara... well, she glanced his way but imdiately looked down, pretending to adjust her pen cap with laser focus.
Honestly, this level of unintentional coordination was kind of terrifying.
Seeing the army of eyes drilling into him with frightening unity, Rex slowly raised both hands in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright. Calm down, everyone," he said, flashing his most innocent smile. "Don’t worry—I rember the promise. I’m not running away."
A few people chuckled, others narrowed their eyes suspiciously, as if silently saying you better not.
To really prove his noble intentions, Rex dramatically pushed his chair back and stood up like a man walking toward his public execution—no, lunch.
He patted his pockets as if double-checking his wallet was still there, then gave the class a slight bow, "As promised, the lunch hero shall now deliver salvation."
That broke the tension.
Laughter rippled through the room.
"Make sure it’s not just sandwiches!" soone called out.
"I want biryani!"
"No cheap stuff!"
Rex waved a hand as if swatting away their demands. "You’ll get what you get. Beggars can’t be choosers."
Soone from the back shouted, "We’re not beggars, you volunteered!"
Rex didn’t respond. He simply walked out like a man with a purpose—and a slight pang in his wallet.
Behind him, his classmates quickly gathered their things, a buzz of excitent filling the air as the lunch break officially began.
And with that, he took the lead in exiting the class—with an army of ducks... ahem, students waddling right behind him in a suspiciously tight formation.
It honestly looked like so kind of weird, slow-paced parade. Rex in front, hands in pockets, strolling like a cool boss, and behind him a bunch of students tailing him like he was the pied piper of free lunch.
As they made their way down the corridor, students from other classes paused mid-conversation and stared, brows raised. Others exchanged glances. A few even whispered to each other, clearly confused about the bizarre sight.
"What’s going on with that class?"
"Why are they walking like that?"
"Did sothing happen?"
"Did they form a line for group therapy?"
"Is this a new cult?"
One bold guy, who knew Rex even asked, "Yo, Rex, you starting a club or sothing?"
Rex just smiled and replied, "Yeah. It’s called ’Feeding the Ungrateful Society’. First eting’s today."
Laughter erupted behind him, and the line shuffled forward with renewed energy—like they were marching into battle. Well, a battle for food. Sa difference.
Soone behind him replied, "Well, he is our food savior now."
Rex rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his lips as the loyal formation continued down the hallway—like a scene out of a bizarre but oddly wholeso student drama.
While the lunch parade continued, Adrian quietly stepped up a bit to catch up with Rex, weaving through the line like a fish swimming upstream. Finally falling into stride with him. He leaned in slightly and lowered his voice.
"Dude... are you really serious about this?" he asked, glancing back at the unusually obedient line of classmates still trailing them like hungry pilgrims on a sacred journey.
"If you want, I can make so excuse and scatter them. Don’t take it too seriously—everyone’s just joining in for fun, you don’t actually have to go through with it."" he added, clearly concerned.
Rex gave a soft chuckle, eyes still forward. "It’s fine."
Adrian hadn’t been there when the drama unfolded, but like any good class gossip hotline, the details had reached him within minutes. At first, he thought it was just a joke—typical lunch break nonsense—but watching Rex walk at the front like so benevolent monarch with his hungry followers behind... well, it started to feel a bit too real.
More than that, Adrian knew Rex. Knew that he wasn’t so second-generation rich kid with oil wells for pocket change either, or so silver-spoon second-gen rolling in black cards and daddy’s cash.
And What worried him wasn’t the act—it was the cost. Even if they went for basic, budget-friendly als, feeding a class full of starving university students wasn’t going to be cheap.
"You sure?" Adrian asked again, this ti more seriously. "I an... you’re not secretly sitting on a gold mine or sothing, right?"
As if suddenly thinking about sothing, he spoke, "You sure you’re not gonna be selling your kidney by dinner?"
Rex, sensing his friend’s concern, simply smiled and gave a small shrug. "It’s fine. This much is nothing. I’ve still got these few bucks left in my tragic little bank account." he said, patting his wallet like it was filled with limitless fortune.
"If it really cos to that, I’ll just sell your kidney. You’re healthier." He added with a chuckle.
Adrian opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, then sighed and nodded. "Alright. Just don’t go bankrupt feeding these freeloaders."
Rex laughed under his breath. "If I do, you’re paying for dinner for the rest of the sester."
Adrian muttered, "Tch. Should’ve let them riot instead...
Seeing he wasn’t going to change Rex’s mind, Adrian sighed and didn’t press further. He just hoped Rex wasn’t secretly planning to live off cup noodles for the next two weeks.
And with that, they walked side by side as the Great Migration continued toward the promised land—also known as the campus cafeteria.
(End of Chapter)
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