Divine Celebrity 102

“They really spared no expense, did they?” I said as I pulled into the parking lot of the most expensive hotel in the city, the college had been left long behind. They had decided to handle the event in a neutral location, to make it fairer, they claimed, but I was sure that it was about keeping me away from the team even more. 

The school offered transportation, but I rejected it. Not only it was less convenient, but I wouldn’t put past them to arrange so that the driver got lost, delaying my arrival even more. 

Lauren nodded, but that was the extent of her reaction as she looked down. That was the attitude she had during the drive, looking at me only when she thought I couldn’t notice, ignoring just how good my peripheral vision was. 

She had a cute expression, mixed with some yearning, showing just how much of an effect my kiss left on her. Girls loved bad boys…

Of course, Lauren had her own little prerequisite that made it a little complicated. She was obsessed with chess, to the point that it colored her assessment of other people. The chess world was hardly filled with bad boys. 

Luckily for her, she had managed to meet with one of the few exceptions. 

I was tempted to tease her, but I was dissuaded by her blush. Any more, and she might actually faint. Instead, I started examining the hotel and the conference room. 

“Wow, I love what you guys made with the place,” I said as I stepped into the conference room. The first thing that popped into my mind was expensive as I looked at the wooden tables sprawled around the room, their color suggesting that they were made of some kind of exotic wood — though I didn’t know the exact name. 

“It’s alright,” Lauren murmured, distracted enough not to pay any attention. Though, considering her family fortune, maybe that was just alright. 

I paid more attention to the layout, several game desks sprawled around, but one, larger one separated from the others, and several cameras were in the process of being set up around to focus on that game. 

And, to complete that, there was a large conference table on the corner, already filled with the management of both schools. I recognized the dean and the sports director, talking to an older man, probably in his fifties. Lauren’s shocked gasp made me guess that it was Professor Argus, which made the smug-looking guy next to him, his protege.

“S-should we go and talk to them,” Lauren suggested, sounding star-struck for once. 

I was about to accept that, when I noticed something that changed my mind. The disdainful gaze Professor Argus had thrown our way, the disgust impossible to miss, though I noted it was targeting Lauren more than me. “Why don’t you go and talk with our other team members, they look nervous?” I said as I pointed toward them. 

I didn’t have a good feeling about this Professor, and I didn’t want to expose Lauren to him before I could get a proper handle. 

“Don’t you want to come as well?” Lauren asked, too distracted to realize it was just a deflection. 

“Really, you want me there to calm them down?” 

Lauren paused, no doubt remembering my last encounter with them. “No,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “Actually, it’s best if you stay away.” 

The smile fell off my face the moment she turned away, and I started walking toward the VIP table, only skipping a step next to one of the cameramen, one that was feeling the most fascination toward me — the Intent that was floating off him was a good indicator. 

“Record everything that’s about to happen, including the sound, and you’ll get a VIP ticket for Sunday,” I whispered, then continued without even skipping a step. 

I was already planning to use my own phone to record, of course, but only as a last resort.  I much preferred a neutral party ‘catching’ what I was about to do. 

The sports director was first to notice my approach, and made a gesture to stop me. I ignored it, which made him stand up and dash to me. “What are you doing, the player’s table is there,” he said, pointing where I had sent Lauren. 

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice, must be the concussion,” I said with a smirk, not even bothering to rely on the enhancing effects of Taunt. “But since I’m here already, let me say hi to our great and amazing dean.” 

“You can’t,” he declared. 

“What are you going to do, kick me out?” I said with a smirk, enjoying the sudden flush of helpless anger as he realized that he didn’t have much to threaten me. “That’s the problem with declaring all-out war to cover for that incompetent spawn of nepotism,” I whispered gleefully. “You don’t have anything else to do. Me, on the other hand…” I said, letting my words trail as I continued talking. 

He grabbed my arm in panic, pulling hard, showing his intention to restrain me physically if necessary. Unfortunately, in his case, that was more of a philosophical point than an actual threat. An out-of-shape man in his late thirties was hardly a threat even before the System. 

With my physical Traits, he didn’t even have a hope of slowing me down. He managed to forget that fact momentarily as he grabbed my arm, but a tug of my arm was enough to make him gasp in pain and collapse. 

“You should be more careful,” I said, speaking just loud enough to be heard by the occupants of the VIP table — and picked by the camera. 

“What are you doing?” the dean gasped as he looked at me. 

“Oh, I’m here to greet you, of course. It’s only kind, after all the trouble that you went to sabotage me just to save the career of your buddy,” I said. 

“What are you talking about, you ungrateful —“ the dean started angrily, only to fall silent as I took a large step forward, getting close enough to make it uncomfortable. 

I didn’t need to rely on the tricks of the System to annoy and intimidate people. “Or what, you punch me like your buddy Spencer did?” I said, not bothering to keep my voice down. “Why don’t you try it, maybe it’ll be more successful,” I said. 

I heard a few snickers coming from the crowd behind, though the gasps from the VIP table were much louder. “I can’t believe how rude your player is,” interrupted the one that was sitting right next to the dean, who I guessed was the dean of the other school from his attitude. “We’re here for a match of friendship, not to deal with —“  

“Oh, fuck off baldy, just because you’re afraid of what your pathetic football team would do this Sunday doesn’t give you the right to speak,” I said, even louder. “We all know what this tournament is about, no need to try to act like a victim.” 

The dean of the opposing college gained a nice purple color to his face, and I was about to continue, when I was distracted by another flood of Intent, even more than my quarterback competition, and enough to rival the more intense parts of the game. 

I didn’t turn back, not wanting to alert them, but I had a feeling that the cameraman I had talked to had decided to take one step forward — and earning himself an even bigger reward in the process. 

“What kind of nonsense you are speaking —“ our dean started. 

I was initially planning to ramp up the aggression slowly, but the initiative of the cameraman changed the stakes considerably. “Oh,  you’re saying that it’s completely coincidental that after that last game, I had suddenly received a dubious concussion report that kept me out of the game, and just as I started to build a new team, you’re here, locking me here for three days while cooperating with this purple flower,” I declared, pointing at the opposing dean, who was displaying a truly impressive shade of purple.  

As I said that, two phones were already ringing on the table, but no one checked them yet. 

“Y-you think I’m afraid of your depleted team. No coach, no quarterback, and the offense was on strike. You’re garbage, and you know it,” the opposing dean shouted angrily.  

I just chuckled at his shout. “Try not to get too angry, old man, you might get a heart attack,” I said. “If you are not trying to do that, why don’t we just finish the tournament tonight and we can go back.” 

The number of phones ringing continued to increase in the process, until someone noticed that it might not be a coincidence and answered. He listened for a moment, only for his eyes to widen as he whispered. 

“Stop, we’re on, and it’s life,” he said, and the whole table gasped. 

“Oops,” I said, a shameless smirk on my face.