Cover it up, then. William Thompson smiled again. “Maybe I know about it too.”

“Even if you do, you’re not allowed to say!” Jing Brooks glared at him fiercely, then looked around and lowered his voice. “There are a lot of supervisors in this academy. Things that shouldn’t be discussed, just don’t discuss them, understand?”

Alright then. William Thompson raised his eyebrows helplessly. “Actually, if the academy could waive my tuition, of course I’d have no interest in talking.”

“I don’t have that authority. Even if I wanted to help you, all I can do is help you apply,” Jing Brooks’s face grew even darker. “How could I possibly decide something so major!”

William Thompson frowned. “That’s how it is… really not possible?”

Jason Brooks didn’t answer his question, but instead asked with interest, “Aren’t you afraid that if your tuition is waived, you’ll get so much criticism that you’ll lose your composure?”

“What’s there to be afraid of? It’s all about personal mentality. Even if those people don’t get their tuition waived, their fate might not be any better,” William Thompson snorted disdainfully. “At worst, the poorest just beg for food. As long as you’re alive, you’ll bounce back eventually… If you have to vent your anger by killing classmates, how weak must you be?”

Jason Brooks was stunned for a moment before he fully digested these words, then nodded. “That’s right, at worst, the poorest just beg for food. As long as you’re alive, you’ll bounce back eventually… Your mentality is pretty good. I’ll help you fight for a volunteer subsidy then.”

That’s what he said, but he didn’t really believe this kid’s mentality was flawless.

As a lecturer at this academy, he’d seen plenty of geniuses with sky-high ambitions. Once they couldn’t handle failure, their psychological resilience wasn’t necessarily better than others—most of those who jumped from the Star-Gazing Tower were once geniuses.

Chapter 3: The Strongest Volunteer

A volunteer subsidy? William Thompson actually knew what that was about. There were plenty of chores in the academy that needed doing, and often students were needed to help out. Although it was considered volunteer work, if they called in some poor students, they could give out some subsidies.

To put it bluntly, it’s just four words: work-study program.

William Thompson was quite grateful for this help. In fact, his next step was to apply to be a subsidized volunteer, but the lecturer brought it up first. “Thank you, Lecturer. May I ask what volunteer jobs are available in the academy?”

“What kind of volunteer jobs could there be?” Jason Brooks rolled his eyes at him. “It’s nothing more than kitchen help or cleaning duties.”

“Cleaning,” William Thompson grimaced in distress. That really wasn’t a good job. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, but cleaning didn’t just mean tidying up rooms and courtyards—if you got assigned to clean the latrines, that was cleaning too.

He actually wasn’t afraid of filth, but… damn, he was at least a dignified Wind Observer, and now he had to come down to the mortal world to clean toilets?

“Then think it over,” Jing Brooks waved his hand and quickened his pace, muttering to himself as he walked away.

And you say your mentality is fine—look, you don’t even want to do cleaning. As if you’d get to help in the kitchen anyway.

Students these days really are getting more and more ambitious but less and less capable, yet they’re all so sharp-tongued.

“Actually…” Watching the lecturer’s figure recede, William Thompson sighed softly. “Actually, if you could guarantee I wouldn’t have to clean toilets, then it’d be fine. I’d even like to try what it’s like to be a ‘Sweeping Monk’…”

He returned to the dorm and found the other three already there. Gavin Howard was talking excitedly about something, but when he suddenly walked in, all three froze, and the lively atmosphere instantly vanished.

Brian Faulkner was the first to react. He spoke with a half-smile, “Boss is now in charge of discipline, so you should treat us… and just in time, the fourth is back too.”

Dorm 303 of the Gengzi building was like any other: they ranked themselves by age. Gavin Howard was the eldest, Ethan Shaw the second, Brian Faulkner was less than ten days younger than Ethan Shaw and so became the third, and William Thompson was the fourth—though he’d started at the academy later, he’d skipped two grades.

William Thompson didn’t care much for this ranking, especially since he didn’t think much of the third, Brian Faulkner.

But the strange thing was, Brian Faulkner wasn’t polite to him, but was decent enough to the first and second—probably because only William Thompson had stood up to call out someone’s lack of public decency back then.

In the end, Fan the Third’s wardrobe had to be moved, because one day the dorm supervisor came to inspect, found the wardrobe blocking the light, and said bluntly: “Are you going to move this wardrobe yourselves, or should we do it for you?”

Fan the Third had no choice but to move it himself. He probably thought someone had reported him—otherwise, why would the supervisor bother to check the room?

So he resented William Thompson even more.

William Thompson ignored him. There was no need to take trash like that seriously.

Gavin Howard gave an awkward laugh at these words. “Fourth, give us some face, let’s have dinner together tonight?”

“No need,” William Thompson shook his head. “I have other plans.”

“Fourth, you should save a meal when you can,” Brian Faulkner said sarcastically. “You’re so poor you need a tuition waiver, and the boss is treating, yet you won’t eat your fill?”

Now I finally understand how Ma Jiajue was made, William Thompson glanced at him coolly. “Third, if you have time, you should care more about your dad.”

“You dare take advantage of me?” Brian Faulkner shot to his feet, reaching for the chair in front of him.