Chapter 149| Equipment Theory

Chapter 149: Chapter 149| Equipment Theory

Zane stepped into the classroom at 8:58 AM and found every seat already taken.

The room hummed with low voices, bags dropping, someone arguing over a charger. Maren sat beside his empty seat, back straight, hands folded on the desk. She was in her hero suit, dark blue with white and blue stripes running down the sleeves, the fabric hugging her shoulders and waist like it had been poured on.

It wasn’t a surprise. Every student at Aldren had three main outfits: hero suit, school uniform, or training suit.You could add casual wear but it was not appropriate to classes.

Which one you wore on any given day said something about what you expected from it. Half the room had picked suits. Zane was in his uniform.

He lifted a hand.

Maren glanced up and threw a short smirk. Small, quick, gone before anyone else could catch it.

"You’re late," Maren said.

"I’m quite early," Zane replied.

"You’re on time," Maren said, "which is still late for you."

He sat. The chair creaked.

Two rows up, Ryan Castellan didn’t turn around. His shoulders were squared, his head angled slightly toward the board, and Zane could feel the attention coming off him anyway, like heat off a stove.

’Not now,’ he thought.

『 System Note: The host is being sensible. 』

’I’m always sensible.’

『 The system will log that as unverified. 』

The door clicked open at nine sharp.

Zane expected Vael. The room had been braced for it since the bell.

It wasn’t Vael.

Mori walked in with a tablet under one arm and a slow, easy stride, her white lab coat swinging open around her hips. The NSA logo sat embroidered high on the left chest, and it rode up with the curve of her large breasts every time she breathed. She stopped at the front of the room and let the silence hold for a second.

"Good morning," Mori said. "I know what you’re all thinking."

Nobody said anything.

"What is the equipment instructor doing at the front of a theory block again?" She smiled, wide and unbothered. "I’m only here for a while. Instructor Vael is tied up, and the administration decided I’d be the least damaging substitute."

Someone near the back groaned. A guy by the window stifled a laugh.

"Yes, yes," Mori said, lifting one hand. "I know you miss her."

The noise went up properly then. A wave of low protest, a few loud ones, someone shouting "Bring her back!" from the second row. Mori let it roll for a few seconds with the patience of a woman who had survived worse.

Maren leaned toward Zane without moving her eyes from the board.

"She’s enjoying this," Maren murmured.

"Obviously," Zane said.

"Do you think Vael knows?"

"Vael knows everything."

Maren’s mouth twitched.

Mori clapped her hands once. The room dropped to a murmur.

"Right. Let’s go straight to business." She tapped the tablet and the board lit up with a slide. "Today’s topic is your hero suit. Specifically, what it costs, what it’s made of, and why you should stop treating it like a second skin you can tear and replace."

The slide showed a cross-section of a suit. Layered fabric, a thin metal mesh, a fibre lattice running between them like veins.

"Base layer," Mori said. "Impact-resistant weave, breathable, heat-regulated. This costs the academy roughly four hundred credits per unit." She flicked to the next slide. "Reinforcement lattice. Sigil-compatible conductive fibre. Four thousand." The slide changed again. "Contact panels at palms, knees, and shoulders. Another eleven hundred each."

A low whistle rolled through the room.

"That’s before the Sigil-specific tuning," Mori went on. "A standard model Code Zero suit, the kind most of you are wearing, sits near twenty thousand credits when you add everything up." She looked out over the class. "So the next time someone tells you a scorch mark on the sleeve is no big deal, I want you to remember that figure."

Zane did the maths in his head and stopped halfway.

’Twenty thousand,’ he thought. ’And I’ve been wearing mine like it’s gym gear.’

『 System Note: The host should check his account balance before the next training session. 』

’I don’t even know how much is in it.’

『 The system is aware. 』

Maren caught the look on his face.

"What?" she whispered.

"Nothing," Zane whispered back. "Just doing arithmetic."

"Don’t hurt yourself." Maren said.

"I’m trying not to, what even gave you that idea." Zane replied.

Mori moved through the lecture at a steady clip. She explained the three grades of suit, the way each one handled output differently, how a B-rank student wearing a C-rank suit would burn through the material in under a month. She talked about repair protocols, seam stress, thermal ceilings. When someone asked a question about custom modifications, she answered it with a flat, practical tone and moved on to the next slide.

She was good at this, Zane realised. Different from Vael, quieter about it, but good.

Around the half-hour mark she stopped near the middle of the room.

"Here’s a practical one." She turned to face the class. "Who here has ever pushed their output past what their suit was rated for?"

A few hands went up. Zane kept his on the desk.

"And how many of you told your equipment instructor?"

Every hand dropped.

"That’s what I thought." Mori sighed, though she looked more amused than annoyed. "If you burn through a suit, I will find out. The seams tell on you. Every single time."

Her eyes drifted across the room and settled on Zane.

Not hard. Not pointed. Just a pause, a half-second longer than it should have been.

Then she moved on.

’She knows,’ he thought.

『 System Note: Mori Calder is aware of the host’s suit output. The system cannot confirm what she has concluded. 』

’That’s not comforting.’

『 It was not meant to be. 』

The rest of the block dragged. Mori covered warranty rules, cleaning procedures, and a short section on storing suits near high-output Sigils. Zane took notes on the parts that mattered. His handwriting got worse the longer he sat there.

At 9:58 she shut the tablet.

"That’s the lecture. Questions go through your instructor or through me." She scanned the room. "And I’m serious about the seams."

Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. Conversations started up before the door was fully open.

Maren stood and slung her bag over one shoulder.

"I’m heading to Arena Two," she said. "Nil’s waiting."

"Contest?"

"Rematch." She said it like it pained her. "Don’t ask."

"I wasn’t going to." Zain replied.

"Good." Maren paused, one hand on the strap. "Lunch?"

"Nah East courtyard." Zane said.

"Okay see you later," Maren replied.

She left.

Zane packed his notebook slowly. Around him the room drained, voices thinning into the corridor.

A shadow fell across his desk.

He looked up.

Ryan stood there with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted at a careful angle.

"Calloway," Ryan said.

"Ryan." Zane replied back.

"Nice class." Ryan’s eyes dropped to the notebook, then rose again. "You took a lot of notes on suit costs for someone who barely knows his place."

Zane’s pen stopped.

Ryan smiled, a small, friendly thing that didn’t reach anywhere near his eyes.

"Lunch," Ryan said. "East courtyard. Isn’t that where you’re headed?" His smile sharpened. "I’ll meet you there."

Zane didn’t answer.

"I’ll see you there," Ryan said again, and walked out.

Zane sat very still.

『 System Note: Ryan Castellan was listening to a private conversation. The system recommends noting this. 』

’I noted it,’ Zane thought.

He closed the notebook and followed the crowd out.