The old school building, just across the field of the basketball court, was a monument to a strange, eerie era. When John A. Macdonald High School was called Prester John High School, 19 years ago.
Prester John High suffered from a string of disasters the moment the red ribbon was cut. A student fell to his death when a railing gave way. A teacher hung himself in front of his class. A mere year after its opening, Prester John closed. It took another 4 years before John A. Macdonald High was built next to it. Most of the old school buildings were demolished, except one.
Ranmaru had no idea why this one remained standing. But one of the rooms near the upper levels of this old school building had a comfortable connection to the school Wi-Fi, and so he came here often. The idea of a school heart-throb being this proficient was computers seemed like a downer on his prospects.
At least the old classroms had the courtesy to keep the chairs and tables. All high quality wood, so no rust to deal with. Even the termites didn't come here, and Ranmaru kept the place clean enough to stay in. When there wasn't any school left for the day, and home was dealing a lousy internet connection that his sister spent all her time watching yaoi hentai on, this was the place to be.
Ranmaru leaned back onto his chair and smiled. Another bitcoin mined. Purchasing computing power from other sources to mine bitcoins was certainly raking in cash. If he turned all of it in now, he'd be rich enough to fund his own university scholarship.
He smiled, and closed his eyes. His mind wandered to dreams and imaginations of money, and girls that came with the money. Some of them would be gold diggers, and a lot of them would just treat him as a pretty boy. He kind of preferred the latter.
A loud thud, of a box dropped onto the floor, shattered his idle dreams.
"Someone's here?" he whispered to himself. Seiichi was the only other guy who came here on a regular basis, though he never made much noise. That boy never put his good looks to use, thought Ranmaru.
His train of thought derailed again, when he stepped out of the abandoned classroom. There were people downstairs. 2 adult men standing around a 2 giant black crates. The moment Ranmaru saw one of them carry a gun, he ducked out of sight. Silenced pistols. These men were making a trade of something here.
"You got the goods?!" yelled out one of them.
Drugs? Firearms? Rare artifacts? Secret documents? Whatever was being traded was worth a lot, surmised Ranmaru. Just let them trade, and leave. If this was going to be a common occurrence over here, Ranmaru would prefer to head straight home.
Prester John High suffered from a string of disasters the moment the red ribbon was cut. A student fell to his death when a railing gave way. A teacher hung himself in front of his class. A mere year after its opening, Prester John closed. It took another 4 years before John A. Macdonald High was built next to it. Most of the old school buildings were demolished, except one.
Ranmaru had no idea why this one remained standing. But one of the rooms near the upper levels of this old school building had a comfortable connection to the school Wi-Fi, and so he came here often. The idea of a school heart-throb being this proficient was computers seemed like a downer on his prospects.
At least the old classroms had the courtesy to keep the chairs and tables. All high quality wood, so no rust to deal with. Even the termites didn't come here, and Ranmaru kept the place clean enough to stay in. When there wasn't any school left for the day, and home was dealing a lousy internet connection that his sister spent all her time watching yaoi hentai on, this was the place to be.
Ranmaru leaned back onto his chair and smiled. Another bitcoin mined. Purchasing computing power from other sources to mine bitcoins was certainly raking in cash. If he turned all of it in now, he'd be rich enough to fund his own university scholarship.
He smiled, and closed his eyes. His mind wandered to dreams and imaginations of money, and girls that came with the money. Some of them would be gold diggers, and a lot of them would just treat him as a pretty boy. He kind of preferred the latter.
A loud thud, of a box dropped onto the floor, shattered his idle dreams.
"Someone's here?" he whispered to himself. Seiichi was the only other guy who came here on a regular basis, though he never made much noise. That boy never put his good looks to use, thought Ranmaru.
His train of thought derailed again, when he stepped out of the abandoned classroom. There were people downstairs. 2 adult men standing around a 2 giant black crates. The moment Ranmaru saw one of them carry a gun, he ducked out of sight. Silenced pistols. These men were making a trade of something here.
"You got the goods?!" yelled out one of them.
Drugs? Firearms? Rare artifacts? Secret documents? Whatever was being traded was worth a lot, surmised Ranmaru. Just let them trade, and leave. If this was going to be a common occurrence over here, Ranmaru would prefer to head straight home.
