The Conciege
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August Intruder- Chapter 155- No Biting
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 04:26:38 +0000 UTCArk was still laughing.
He was having too much fun, hand on his side with tears in his eyes, his voice was a little loud. He wasn’t trying to be rude, Melmarc knew that, but a stranger would think otherwise.
Melmarc rolled his eyes as he shoved his bag into the room wardrobe and lowered his backpack to the ground. He bent over it, unzipped it and pulled out his laptop.
“Did you see the look on his face?” Ark wheezed.
Melmarc sighed. “Yes, Ark. I saw the look on his face five hours ago.”
Tyrese had since shown them to the Grace Hall and given them their entry cards. The direction to the Grace Hall had been surprising. They had gone deeper into the building while Tyrese had said too little, perhaps in embarrassment for having gotten Melmarc’s class wrong.
Probably because of how loud Ark had been laughing, Melmarc corrected.
If he had gotten something about someone fundamentally wrong, like their race, and someone else had laughed so heartily at it, he would’ve been embarrassed too.
Tyrese, in his relative silence, had taken them to an elevator and hit a button with the letter ‘G’ on it. The elevator had taken them down. When it came to a stop it was in a place that looked like an small underground subway area. Then they’d taken a bullet train. Yes, a bullet train.
In the blink of an eye, all three of them were in a new building’s basement. Tyrese had given them instructions before they’d stepped off the train, but did not step off with them.
“Take the elevator up to the second floor and look for the rooms with your room number on the keycard,” he had said. “Those are you rooms. Orientation starts at eight tomorrow morning.”
The entire thing had been awkward and Melmarc had wondered for a while as they walked the hallway looking for their rooms if Tyrese was supposed to show them to their rooms personally. Maybe he had decided to forego that part of his duty out of embarrassment or a sense of being insulted. Or maybe he wasn’t mandated to show them directly to their room.
“You shouldn’t have laughed so hard,” Melmarc said, placing his laptop on the only reading table in the room.
Ark’s laughter subsided a little. “I know, I know,” he agreed. “But it was just one of those things. I didn’t expect it and couldn’t control myself. That’s why I apologized, it was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
Spitfire was currently dealing with the final scar on his chest, intentionally ignoring the massive stab wound in his side.
“You should’ve apologized profusely,” Melmarc chided, half-serious, as he pulled out the reading chair and sat down. It was one of the most comfortable reading chairs he’d ever sat down on. Maybe it was because it was designed as a gamer’s chair.
“Should I have kowtowed?” Ark chuckled. “It was an honest mistake. I’m sure he knows. Besides, I corrected him. Would’ve you have preferred for me to allow him to think you’re a [Healer]?”
Melmarc didn’t need to think about that.
“No,” he said simply, turning on his laptop. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t laugh so hard, next time.”
“And I’m promising to do my best. Also, did you see how quickly he deflated when he found out that you weren’t a [Healer]? That was funny, too. I think their combat team might be in big trouble this year.”
Melmarc looked back at his brother who was lying down on his queen sized bed. “What makes you think so?”
Ark made a vague gesture with his hand. “If he’s so eager to recruit a [Healer] that you won’t go through the rigorous testing process, then that’s a sign of desperation.”
“They either don’t have a good [Healer] or they don’t have a [Healer] at all,” Melmarc mused, finishing his brother’s thought process.”
“A school like Fallen High has to have [Healer]s coming out of their ass, though,” Ark said, thoughtful in his own words. “It definitely can’t be the second one.”
Melmarc shook his head. “It can, actually.”
“Why’s that?”
“The school can have all the [Healer]s in the world, but applying for the combat team is entirely optional. What if none of the [Healer]s wants to be on the combat team?”
“Why would that happen?”
Melmarc thought back to the last national high school tournament. It had been a really brutal tournament for the [Healer]s in every group competition. Just thinking about it made him grimace.
People had taken the strategy of taking out the [Healer]s a little too seriously. Melmarc didn’t know which school started it but he knew that by the finals, all the schools had adopted it.
The internet had termed the strategy ‘operation mind-break.’ A lot of people had laughed about the name for certain perverted reasons but it did nothing to conceal just how terrible the strategy had been. Instead of just taking out the [Healer]s, they did so in a manner so brutal that it instilled fear in them.
Each tournament had [Healer]s that were always on standby, ready to heal any and all injuries. The arenas also had enchantments and spells that helped prevent things like death. But none of them had anything that helped with the mind. Just thinking about it made Melmarc feel a little bad.
How do you return to a tournament where an opponent school had broken your bones in many different ways just because you were the team [Healer]?
But the worst part of it all was that at some point, the teams had started changing strategies. Rather than fight tooth and nail to protect their [Healer]s, they’d learnt to simply abandon them. Like the violence perpetrated on the [Healer]s, a school had first done it, then it had worked, then the others had adopted it.
It had been a tournament specifically not for [Healer]s.
With a shake of his head and an understanding of the school’s situation, Melmarc said, “The last tournament was bad. I wouldn’t even want to be a [Healer] for any of the schools for this year’s tournament.”
Ark paused, then his expression dropped. “Oh… yeah.”
He had watched the tournament, too. Like him, a lot of people had not been pleased with the outcome.
“Wanna be their healer?” Ark asked.
To that, Melmarc snorted. “They wish.”
“You could be their healer if you wanted to, though.” Ark scratched Spitfire between its horns. “You’ll just have to find a preferred [Healer] and copy their skill before each match.”
“I know.”
If everyone could get past the fact that he was a [Faker] when they ultimately found out and decided to make him a part of the team, then he just might do that if he absolutely had to.
But there was a higher chance that someone, just as Ark had, would come up with the same idea.
Then I’ll definitely not do it.
He was a [Faker]. He would not play the role of anything he did not want to be.
You’re not a [Faker], he thought simply. You’re an [August Intruder].
It seemed Uncle Dorthna was rubbing off on him. He was beginning to take some level of pride in being an [August Intruder].
After pulling up his research into Fallen High’s academic curriculum up on his laptop, he paused and turned his chair to face Ark. It was a swivel chair. He loved swivel chairs.
“Why are you still here?” he asked.
Ark shrugged. “I like your room better.”
Tyrese had handed them two keycards and left them to decide on who gets what room. According to him, they were the only rooms left. The school had left just enough rooms available to occupy the number of new entrants admitted this session.
Melmarc looked around, took in his room once more. He wouldn’t say that his room was better, but his room was definitely nice.
It was basically a penthouse suite. At least a cheaper version, in his opinion. The main living space was wide, very much so. It housed the only bed in the entire room—a queen size. The bed sat on top of a large white carpet. The rest of the room was bare. White walls were a good accompaniment to the ground that was covered in reflective black tiles.
Besides the living area with the single bed a flat screen television against the wall and a reading table against one of the walls, the room also had a secluded section that looked as if it was meant to be a dining area. Instead of a dining table, however, there was a pool table.
A door led to a restroom that was larger than any restroom had the right to be. It had a section for shower. Instead of a shower head, its ceiling was perforated. Segmented as it was, a brief test from Ark showed that the entire ceiling was the showerhead, and it worked according to the sections you chose to you. There was also a bathtub and a levitating toilet seat that may or may not use some kind of teleportation magic in its crafting.
Melmarc wasn’t sure. The toilet seat simply levitated on its own with water inside and was connected to nothing. He was yet to use it.
The kitchen was the only part of the room that was not unnecessarily large.
As for the room’s illumination, small orbs the size of Melmarc’s fist hovered at different parts of the room, all eight of them. They cast the room in white light that bounced off the white walls and made the room seem brighter.
All the lights were controlled through an enchanted switch, designed only for those with mana to use. It meant that the non-Gifted would be unable to operate them.
Since the room wasn’t meant to house any of the non-Gifted, Melmarc had no critic to give in their choice of engineering.
As for Ark’s love of his room, Melmarc wasn’t sure of what to say about it. Their room was almost identical if not for the dining section. Where he had a pool table, Ark had a comfortable couch, a projector, and a game console.
Melmarc shook his head, returning his attention to his laptop. “You saw this one and chose that one.”
“Because you liked this one better,” Ark said without missing a beat.
Melmarc paused. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Ark chuckled. “You can tell when someone is lying but I can tell when you want something.”
Shirtless, Ark’s torso was bare for any to see. He had abs and a chest so wide it only belonged on adults. He was getting bigger. Perhaps not taller, but definitely bigger.
Melmarc wondered if he had been hitting the gym. But he didn’t know about any Gifted gyms back home, so he wondered what gym would be able to push a strength-based Gifted enough to develop their muscles.
Ark looked down at his chest and abdomen and laughed.
“Yeah,” he said with a smug smile. “I’m hot.”
Melmarc cocked a brow. “You’re a little dumb, aren’t you?”
Both of them laughed at that. They gave it a moment, enjoyed the laugh, before Ark spoke a little more seriously.
“Yeah,” he said. “Thought about it and changed my mind.”
Melmarc blinked. “Changed your mind?”
“Yep.”
“About what?”
Ark gestured at his torso and abdomen with one hand. “The plane scar thing. I think the stab wound will be enough.”
“I thought the more scars the merrier,” Melmarc pointed out.
“True.” Ark bobbed his head thoughtfully. “But I don’t think I’ll need these ones. There’s already evidence of my prowess and sense of sacrifice.”
Melmarc groaned. “I really wish someone will bring that video down.”
“Why?” Ark chuckled. “It’s so cool. Have you watched it? You were badass.”
Definitely not [Faker]-like, Melmarc hoped.
If you were ever any level of famous on the internet, normal schools took it upon themselves to be aware of it. A Gifted school as big as Fallen High would definitely look it up.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Ark said, drawing his attention.
“What thing?”
Ark opened his mouth, paused, then changed whatever he had wanted to say. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
Melmarc shrugged as he scrolled over to the second page of the school curriculum. “I’m just wondering what they’ll think about when they see the video.”
“That you’re a badass?”
“That I’m a [Faker],” Melmarc corrected.
“Does it matter?” Ark asked. “Fallen High has nothing against those with the [Faker] class.”
“True,” Melmarc agreed. “But the combat team will. As useful as the class is, people aren’t fans of it.”
“But it’s strong.”
“I know.” Melmarc sighed. “But people don’t like what they don’t like. It’s like being a private person and ending up with someone that doesn’t respect personal space or boundaries.”
In a way, he understood why people didn’t like the class.
A moment of silence settled between the both of them and Melmarc wasn’t sure what to do in it, so he focused his attention on the curriculum. Fallen High had the same standard curriculum as any other high school. The only difference were a few additions. There was a subject called interacting with mana.
Reading through the basic understanding of the subject as per the guide sent by the school, it was supposed to be a subject that helped students understand the different types of known mana and how they worked. It also helped you know and understand when you were running low on mana. Apparently, there were signs and, while some people judged by instinct, Fallen High took it upon themselves to teach their students how to take note of these signs and what they meant.
Another subject was called portal agriculture. As the name implied, it was agriculture inside portals. Apparently there were portals where you could farm in while you were inside. Melmarc wondered if the plants in said portals grew quickly.
The third course was portal minerals. The fourth was portal ecosystems.
The last and oddly interesting was titled ‘Gifted History.’
Melmarc found it interesting because while there was a lot of information about the history of the Gifted on the internet, none of the platforms peddling these pieces of information were actually platforms that could be vetted. And most of the stories told about the history of the Gifted were offered through word of mouth.
People knew bits and pieces of the Gifted history but they did not know the Gifted history. Everyone just treated it like an open secret somehow… if that made sense.
For instance, everyone knew the name of the first Gifted. Egwonor. It was a weird name, African, if Melmarc remembered correctly.
Weird’s not the word, he reminded himself. Just because a name sounded different to him, it did not make it weird.
He found himself looking forward to Gifted History. Maybe he would cross reference whatever they teach him with what Uncle Dorthna knew by asking questions.
Just how much of their history would Uncle Dorthna have a different opinion on?
Placed comfortably on his table beside him, Melmarc’s phone vibrated. He paused for a moment, contemplating the importance of whoever was messaging him. He didn’t hate chatting, but he wasn’t one to rush for his phone when he was actually doing something. Not unless he was expecting a message.
They’d already spoken to Ninra since getting back, and while their mother had picked their call, she’d answered them quickly, not prolonging the call. He and Ark had come to the conclusion that she was simply busy with something important.
Melmarc made his decision and picked up his phone.
“Do you know that I don’t know your ring tone?” Ark asked, stroking Spitfire’s head while the demon stared at the wall as if it would rather be doing something else or be some place else.
Melmarc unlocked his phone and scrolled to his messaging app. Ark did not know his ring tone because Melmarc rarely ever took his phone of the silent setting.
“It’s the default ring tone,” he said. He hadn’t changed it since getting it.
He had a message from a phone number. He recognized the phone number as he opened it.
School starts tomorrow, it read.
I know, he typed back before putting it down and returning his attention to his laptop.
His phone vibrated again.
I’m bored.
Melmarc stared down at it, very unsure of what was happening.
Ok.
Wow, came the response before he could put his phone down. Are you always this mean?
He paused, looked at Ark.
Ark raised a brow to let him know that he was listening.
“When a girl tells you that she’s bored, what’s the proper response?” he asked Ark.
“Anything that will help her stop being bored,” Ark answered.
Melmarc pursed his lips in thought. “What if you can’t help her stop being bored?”
“Consolations usually work.”
Melmarc nodded before returning to his phone. His fingers moved swiftly as he typed a response.
I’m sorry.
What are you sorry for? The person replied immediately.
Melmarc hesitated. Didn’t she have anyone that she was chatting with? Why was she replying instantly. Maybe she thought she had his complete attention and didn’t want to be rude. Maybe if he replied a little slower she’ll give her attention to other people.
“No,” Ark said out of nowhere.
Melmarc looked at him. “What?”
“You reply her the moment she replies you,” Ark chided. “You don’t get to put the phone down before replying her.”
“Who said I haven’t answered her?”
Ark shot him a look that said he was in no mood for games.
With a sigh, Melmarc replied. I’m sorry you’re bored.
If you’re sorry then do something about it.
Like what?
There was no instantaneous reply. Maybe she was thinking. Melmarc allowed her to think, returning his phone to the table.
“Men will envy you,” Ark sighed.
Melmarc shook his head as he focused on his laptop. “I don’t see why they should.”
“Do you have no idea how rare it is for a girl to give you her undivided attention on a chat without delayed replies?” Ark asked, incredulous. “Men kill for things like that.”
Those words were enough to make Melmarc look at him.
“Alright, maybe not kill,” Ark said. “But you get the point I’m trying to drive home.”
Melmarc did. He knew his brother had clearly been exaggerating. What he just found interest was in the fact that he didn’t pick up any dissonance from the exaggeration.
I guess they don’t count.
“What did she say?”
Ark’s words forced Melmarc to look at him. “Sorry?” Melmarc said. “What’s that?”
Ark nodded to Melmarc’s phone and Spitfire tried to dash out of his hands. He grabbed the demon and pulled it back as if it was some random pet trying to get away from its owner.
Melmarc saw Spitfire make a face. If it was human, he would’ve sworn it was accompanied by a sigh.
Picking up his phone, Melmarc read the new message. It bore two simple words.
Video Call.
His fingers answered immediately as he watched Ark fight against Spitfire’s decision to leave his hands. A little preoccupied at the moment.
I thought you wanted to help, she replied.
It more about me trying to know what I can do to help.
So, you’re not helping?
Still preoccupied, he answered. Ark and Spitfire were practically wrestling on his bed now. A thought came to mind and he typed in a new reply. Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in school?
I am, she answered as Melmarc tried his best to ignore the groans and grunts coming from Ark now. Let’s see if you remember what school I’m supposed to be in right now.
Ark cried out suddenly, his voice growing a little distant. It was followed by the thumping sound of someone falling. Melmarc swiveled on his chair, turning in his direction quickly. He found Ark on the ground at least six feet away from the bed.
Confused, he looked from Spitfire to Ark, then back. Spitfire looked like a tired younger brother who’d just spent the last hour putting up with their older brother’s shenanigans.
Melmarc only had one thought in mind. Did it throw him?
Ark, for his own part, got up from the floor and put his fists up. “Alright, you little shit,” he grinned. “The gloves are off.”
Melmarc could’ve sworn that Spitfire rolled its eyes at his brother. Ark only closed two steps before Spitfire leapt at him like a lunatic.
The both of them went down once more.
Melmarc sighed and returned his attention to his phone. They were not close to anything breakable.
“Don’t get blood on the carpet,” he called to them as he typed in a quick response on his phone.
You’re going to Fallen High, he typed as Ark roared in a low voice behind him, his voice followed by another thump. That’s what you told me and my brother when we saw.
Good to see you remember, she replied. They have me in their new student hall. They call it the Grace Hall. I’ve been taking a stroll all day, just checking in on who’s around and who’s who.
Melmarc nodded, looked like she was trying to have fun. How’s it been so far?
Three guys took one look at my highlights and offered me a smoke, she replied.
Melmarc wasn’t sure how he was supposed to reply to her. Maybe they were being kind in their own way?
Lol. We are highschoolers placed in the same hall with our own individual rooms which, by the way, is very irresponsible of the adults. I assure you they were not being kind in their own way.
I’m confused, Melmarc typed.
“You little fucker!” Ark hissed. It was followed by another thump and a low whine from Spitfire.
Ask your brother what it means to offer a girl some weed in this setting.
“Ark?” Melmarc called.
“Uhuh,” Ark groaned, barely letting out the muffled word as he struggled through whatever he was doing.
“What does it mean if a boy our age with his own place nearby offers a girl with her own place nearby some weed in the middle of the night?”
“I’mma whoop your ass.”
Melmarc was sure that was not for him, considering the little yelp that Ark let out.
“Does the boy live alone?” Ark asked.
“Yes,” Melmarc answered.
“What of the girl?”
“Same.”
“He could be trying to be kind—I’ve got you in a headlock,” Ark laughed maniacally. “You can’t get—Ow! No biting. Ow! I said no biting!”
“Or?” Melmarc pressed, not turning around.
“Or he’s trying to smash,” Ark added, just before Spitfire let out a high-pitched whine. “Ha!” Ark declared. “I’ve got teeth, too!”
“I don’t get it.”
“Weed can make some people want to get laid,” Ark explained. “If he’s not being kind, he’s trying to get some. Tell your friend not to accept his offer. Better safe than sorry. Who are you even chatting with, anyway?”
“Patience,” Melmarc answered absently as he typed a response.
You think they’re trying to get you into a four-way?
Get your mind out of the gutter, Patience replied immediately. Not at the same time. It’s three different guys at three different times. Two girls have offered too, though.
My brother says not to accept the guys’ offer.
Your brother is either a knight in shining armor or a devil that knows what’s happening but is helping his brother protect his friend. Which one is he?
A knight in shining armor.
“Wait!” Ark said suddenly. “I know that name.”
“Yes,” Melmarc answered without expatiating on the reply.
“Patience!” Ark said in realization. “Dragon Knight’s kid. Isn’t she supposed to be here, too? Wait, each guy has his place? Is she in Grace Hall?”
“We are not going to disturb the girl,” Melmarc refused, knowing what direction Ark was heading. “She’s on a stroll right now, anyway. We won’t be able to just go to her. And don’t you have a fight to win?”
Ark was suddenly beside him. His hair was a mess and there were blood stains on his neck.
“Nope,” he answered, breathing heavily. “I already lost. I’ll get the little fucker next time.”
Melmarc looked from his brother’s neck to his brother’s eyes. His brother looked exhausted but fine. His hair was also an absolute mess. Like Melmarc who still hadn’t cut his hair, Ark was keeping his hair long.
“Why are you breathing heavily?” he asked.
“Spitfire’s a maniac that’s why.” Ark pointed at his phone. “Ask her what part of Grace Hall she’s in.”
Melmarc returned his attention to his phone and read her latest message.
I heard some dinguses decided to come late and got the last two rooms in Grace Hall. Why anyone would choose to come late to Fallen High is just insane. I think I’ll say hi.
Melmarc panicked. Just like that?
Didn’t I tell you? she replied. I’ve not been running into people, I’ve been going to their rooms to say hi. I’m not the only one, though. I’m just, you know, making friends. I’ll know them for the next two years. I might as well know them in their comfort zones.
Melmarc did not remember telling Patience that he was also going to Fallen High. Had he told her? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he’d told her he wanted to attend Fallen High. He still had no idea.
From the limited number of times he’d chatted with her, he knew one thing. She would not be happy to learn that he was attending her school and did not tell her.
It’s kind of rude to be on my phone while talking to someone, so I’ll catch you later. Don’t sleep early. I’ve still got gist for you.
Melmarc didn’t know how to feel about what was happening. With a sigh, he got up from his chair and headed for the door. He hoped her displeasure would not last long. She didn’t seem like the type to hold onto it for long.
“Where are you going?” Ark asked as he walked across the room.
“We have a guest,” he answered just before a knock on the door.
Ark grinned. “Patience? You told her we’re here?”
“No.”
Melmarc walked up to the door and opened it.
“Hi,” the girl in front of him said waving her hand with a smile.
Melmarc paused, confused.
“How are…” No. he canceled that line of thought. “Why are…” He paused, canceling that one, too. It came out rude. “I’m just…”
The girl grinned as if she was pleased with herself. “May I come in, Mr. I-can’t-find-the-words-to-express-my-surprise?”
Melmarc stepped to the side to let her in, fighting the urge to defend himself, and she stepped in.
“You’re taller,” she said as she walked in.
Melmarc liked the compliment.
Ark took one look at her and recognized her from her profile picture.
He raised his hand in a wave.
“Hi, Pelumi,” he greeted, smiling. “Did I get it right?”
Pelumi nodded. “You must be Ark.” She paused, gave him an odd look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Ark answered, befuddled, as Melmarc closed the door. “Why do you…” he paused and touched a hand to his neck. “Oh. Don’t worry about that. It’s just ketchup.”
Dissonant.
“Okay,” Pelumi replied, drawing out the word suspiciously. She clearly didn’t believe him. She turned back to Melmarc.
He was standing right behind her now.
“What?” she asked, arms held out towards him. “No hug for me?”
Melmarc wasn’t very sure. They hadn’t been that close during their mentorship program but he would be lying if he said that they had not grown close from chatting in recent times.
He stepped into her, and she completed it, wrapping her arms around him.
“There you go, big guy,” she chuckled. “Hugs don’t hurt.”
He wondered if she went around hugging people and dismissed the thought almost immediately.
When she released him, however, he finally said what was on his mind. He looked her dead in the eye as he spoke.
“How did you find me?”
Behind Pelumi, Ark executed a very disappointed facepalm.
Comments
Jesse
Things are gonna get complicated very quickly. Well done, Pelumi. Youre making Melmarc into a true MC.
