Chapter 1 - Tristin's tragedy

On the night of the full moon, the moon was nowhere to be seen. Thick dark clouds covered the entire sky, and a cold mist obscured the vision of Bongsburg's residents.

The recent events at Bongsburg Dam left the entire Mnisi family on their knees, bowing before Tristin, who stood atop the water, lightning flickering across his body.

Tristin looked at himself, unable to believe the power of the leviathan was this immense. Excited and a bit afraid, he thought, with this power, I can finally get revenge for my parents.

Three days earlier, the first rays of dawn crept through Tristin's window, pulling him from a restless sleep.

"Is it morning already? It feels like I haven't slept at all," Tristin sighed as he woke up, took a shower, and quickly went downstairs for a light breakfast.

"Good morning, Grandma. How was your sleep?" Tristin asked with a smile.

"Good morning, grandson," Grandma replied, her eyes twinkling. "And thank you. You look quite the part in that uniform. The girls will be all over you, I just know it!"

Tristin chuckled but didn't comment. He had a lot on his mind, and girls were the last thing he cared about.

"Oh, by the way, do you want me to go with you to school on your first day?" Grandma inquired.

"No, there's no need, Grandma. I'll be fine. Plus, I'm 17. It wouldn't send a good message if I let my grandma accompany me to class."

Grandma chuckled. "Alright, alright. Independent young man, are we? Bus or car today?"

"I'll take the bus. The Ferrari draws a lot of attention, and I just want to observe and understand the lay of the land before doing anything that might bring unwanted trouble."

"Good thinking. Now finish up and don't be late. Buses are unpredictable, you know!" Grandma said.

"Thanks, Grandma. I know. I'm off then. Have a lovely day, Grandma. I'll see you after school."

Grandma wished Tristin a great first day at school as he headed out.

After an uneventful hour-long bus ride, Tristin arrived at the school gate. While minding his own business, he saw a familiar face in a security guard uniform.

"Mr. Masombuka, what are you doing here?" Tristin asked, surprised.

Mr. Masombuka's calm demeanor didn't change. He spoke two words that shocked Tristin. "Young master."

"Young master? Only my father's subordinates call me that! What's going on here?" Tristin asked again. "Mr. Masombuka, didn't you work at St. Peters High School?"

"Young master, I'm sure you've pieced it together, so I will just confirm it for you. Yes, I was working there as a guard, but I was also stationed there by your father. After you transferred, I also transferred here," Mr. Masombuka explained.

"Oh, I see. I knew Dad's people were guarding me in secret, but I didn't expect you, Mr. Masombuka, to be one of them."

Mr. Masombuka sobbed a bit and said, "Young master, I owe your father a big debt. This is just a small thing I can do to repay his kindness to me and my family. It's a pity that people as kind as your parents passed away so suddenly."

Tristin sighed and looked at the fresh scar on his left hand, a constant reminder of the tragic night that took both his parents. A mere month ago, Tristin was just another teenager navigating the turbulent waters of high school life. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

In an instant, his world was shattered by the deafening roar of metal on metal—the screech of tires, the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass. A drunken truck driver had lost control of his vehicle, careening into the path of Tristin's father's car. Miraculously, he escaped with only minor injuries, but the scars left behind ran far deeper than any physical wound.

Sensing Tristin's turmoil, Mr. Masombuka placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It will get easier with time, young master, and we will do everything to keep you safe."

"Thanks, Mr. Masombuka. I'm pleased to hear you say that. By the way, did you move to Bongsburg with your entire family?" Tristin asked.

"It's only myself, young master. After all, you'll be studying here for eight months, and whether you go to university next year or go back to SunVill to take over your father's company is still unknown," Mr. Masombuka explained.

Tristin didn't want to delve into his uncertain future, especially with the suspicion gnawing at him. The accident felt too convenient, too perfectly timed. After all, throughout human history, the deaths of wealthy people were never as simple as they seemed. So he simply said, "We'll cross that bridge when the time comes."

Mr. Masombuka didn't think much of Tristin's reply. He simply nodded and said, "It's all up to you, young master."

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Masombuka, I need to find Miss Megan. From what Uncle Mike said, she will be responsible for settling me into my class. Can you help me find her?" Tristin asked.

"Absolutely, young master. The teachers' room is this way," Mr. Masombuka led the way.

Soon, they arrived at the door of the teachers' room. Mr. Masombuka said, "Young master, this is it. You can find me anytime if you need my assistance. You can also look for Mr. Mike's daughter, Ella, for minor issues."

"Thanks for your trouble, Mr. Masombuka. I'd appreciate it if you don't call me 'young master' in school. Just treat me like any other student in front of people," Tristin said.

Mr. Masombuka adjusted immediately and said, "As you wish, Tristin." With that, he went back to his duties.