After the nasty surprise that had sprung up on them (the mysterious masked three man team), the students and their lead teachers had spent the last three days preparing for this next round. The game was afoot, and none was looking at losing. They all wanted to win- and they were determined to.
The atmosphere was electric. Because of the number of teams participating this time,the tournament had to be held for eight days. Everyone was prepared, everyone but Zavier. Well, it wasn't like he was completely helpless or anything. This issue at hand was his clones. They were yet to make significant progress. So far, they were yet to meet up with his expectations.
But fortunately for him, he was still in the last order of play. So, theoretically speaking, if all things were to go on as planned, then it was highly unlikely that he might end up playing on the first day. And honestly, that was fine with him. He wasn't too much in a hurry these days. He needed his clones to catch up real quick.
The games were held in a very huge open-air training facility. It was truly an impressive structure. In appearance, it had the semblance of a soccer stadium. Zavier took a good look at the looming edifice and saw that it could definitely hold at least fifty thousand people. From the spectator stand, Zavier watched as the competing teams entered the field below. He was surprised when he saw that some of the teams who had been eliminated in the first round were still somehow in play.
It seemed that he wasn't the only one who was wondering about that. One of the lead teachers seated behind him, explained to her inquiring students that a first round elimination wasn't necessarily an automatic rejection by the University. In fact, those who had passed the first round of the competition weren't guaranteed automatic acceptance either. The whole event was presided by a select team who went over every single aspect of each individual's performance.
At the end of the day, the final results would be reviewed by the specialists in all areas, and then, based on their reviews, scores would be allotted accordingly. This way, the chances of corruption and manipulation were reduced drastically. Some student made an offhand comment about how some had still managed to get in using the back door of their family's privilege. Of course the student was speaking about Zavier, but he didn't realize it at the time.
Someone else made an intelligent observation and asked a very interesting question;
"Excuse me miss, but why weren't we informed about the issue of elimination not being the end?"
Others chorused their approval.
The head teacher smiled as if she had been anticipating this question;
"Well, the reason the prospective freshmen weren't informed about this is simple really; if you had been told, you all would have probably misinterpreted the message, and thereby lapse into a relaxed state with the knowledge that elimination isn't the end."
There went up multiple complaints all around that area.
"You see what I mean. Knowing ahead of time would have taken the edge out of the whole competition, and thereby defeat the very purpose of the tryouts. So, this is why this information was kept and reserved until the last moment. At least this way, every team would want to do their best with the threat of elimination hanging over them like a noose."
Zavier couldn't argue with the logic. It was faultless. The university had several experience with dealing with freshmen, so they knew all the tricks involved. Zavier watched as the procession of the most important folks at the university made their way into the field to their places. There were faculty members, distinguished colleagues of the university's board, and of course, honorary students of the University itself.
Upon entering the venue, Zavier had been taken aback by the sheer number of spectators around him. It was truly a remarkable sight. The venue was filled with rows and rows of spectators of different backgrounds and schools. They cheered and cheered as the dignitaries made their way across the field, waving at them and cheering them on. There were so many people that numbering them was impossible. So many held up their banners, and school coat of arms, and they cheered and cheered.
It was truly an electrifying atmosphere. Even Zavier was caught up in the moment. It was hard not to. The excitement got a hold of him and he couldn't restrain himself from the infectious spirit of comradery that was in the air. He turned to the group of high school students from other high schools who were sitting next to him, and waved a friendly greeting to them. Zavier couldn't help but note the reaction of one of them.
It was almost as if the student had frozen. Zavier couldn't understand why for the life of him. It was the most awkward thing.
Was it because he was from a different school? Why the vitriol? As if in answer to Zavier's worry, the student asked him a very peculiar question;
"Are you Zavier?"
The shock that registered on Zavier's face was so pronounced that even the student who had asked him the question wondered if he had made a mistake. He moved to assuage Zavier's feelings;
"Forgive my assumption buddy, it's just I thought you were someone else, never mind."
Zavier wasn't sure what exactly was going on. Not many people knew him here, at least not to the extent that some random stranger would randomly ask him to his face if he was truly Zavier. Had he gotten famous overnight? It was very tempting to think that. Maybe his name was starting to become something of a household name, a local legend of some sort.
He still wasn't sure what had spurred this new fame, but he was willing to gamble on it being on a positive light. So, with a proud smile on his face, Zavier took the first step towards his newly found stardom, and decided to reply the student staring at him with curious eyes. Totally relishing every word, and without even trying to be humble, he declared his identity in a magnanimous tone;
"Indeed I am he. Fret not, I am but an ordinary student like you, so do not worr-"
"Shut your trap you privileged bum!"
The student growled aggressively like a dog, cutting off Zavier in the middle of his sentence. "Avoid me at all costs, you hear me?! Make sure you avoid me! Because if I run into you in this game, I will beat the living daylight out of you!! Brat!! Now face your front and mind your business!"
The boy's words cut through Zavier like hot knife through butter. It had all the contempt and spite of a hateful speech. The aggression and hate was undeniable. He hadn't even tried to make use of humor or sarcasm to deliver his message and soften the impact. He had dropped it hard and crude, leaving Zavier spinning from the harshness of the backlash. It was an embarrassing sight. Truly, and the unfortunate recipient of that acidic discharge had been left rolling in the dust.
Indeed, it had been a horrendous sight to witness, and it was even more mortifying having to watch Zavier try to recover. The young lad was completely dazed, in sight and in spirit. While a few witnesses felt bad for Zavier for having to endure such a cruelly embarrassing verbal assault, in actuality, Zavier was ninety five percent shocked and only five percent accounted for the totality of the embarrassment he was feeling. What had just happened?! What the hell had just happened?!
Within the blink of an eye, faster that Zavier could follow, the initial novelty of the encounter had quickly dissipated like a cloud of smoke, leaving him with the smoldering remains of his own ignorance and shame. Try as he may, he just couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong, and he was all the worse for it. One moment, he had been expecting to be asked for an autograph or something, and the next, he had been served with a hot steamy dish of vitriol.
"What the hell are you still staring at you bastard?! I said face your front and mind your business! You better ask around about me, I don't play around! I will mess you up real good!"
Zavier hadn't even realized that he was still staring at the boy in shock. This time, his second sentence that consisted of a string of menacing threats brought Zavier back to life. Very slowly, like a ventriloquist doll, Zavier slowly turned away from the boy and stared into space up ahead.
Zavier remembered the incident in the forest and a fresh cold breeze blew all over him. He wondered if perhaps the incident had leaked out. But that was impossible. His face had been barely visible that night. It would have been very difficult, if not impossible to link his name. Besides, what would the couple gain by spreading the tale of that incident? They had as much to lose as Zavier by talking about that night. No, something was truly off. He could feel it, but he just couldn't lay his hand on it.
It was very infuriating. Had he somehow offended this chump without knowing it? He ran over his encounters from the previous days here, hoping to see if he could recall the face. But nothing came up, not even the slightest clue. Zavier had a feeling that this wasn't a random thing. It felt oddly specific, like he was being targeted. But why?
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