The Trampled Son's Awakening

PROLOGUE

The magnificent gates of Opulent University loomed before Liam, promising a world different from his ordinary life. As he entered, a deep voice called from the hallway,

"Hey, there goes another man, call him for me." Liam turned to see six hefty guys on the pavement. "Come down here, man," the voice ordered, and a huge, fair guy with broad shoulders called out to him.

"Are you referring to me?" Liam asked playfully, his slim stature a reminder of the turmoil he had faced since his mother's demise.

"No one questions me that way, boy," the huge guy replied, his tone deep and threatening, causing Liam to step back.

"Macho, why not give him some welcome punches?" Another guy with scattered hair and a skinny look suggested.

Liam, looking fragile and thin, smiled, trying to appear friendly despite the approaching danger.

"Hi, I'm Liam," he said, extending his hand for a polite handshake.

"I'm n..." Macho didn't let him finish as a hard slap landed on his cheek.

"No one talks to Macho that way. Everyone in this institution knows who I am. Let that sink into your head," Macho scowled, raising his brows.

Macho, in his late 20s, was the son of Baron Casilla, a rude and brutal millionaire in Chicago. Macho, taking after his father, behaved rudely and arrogantly toward every other student. Liam, who had just gained admission through a special scholarship, happened to fall into his trap.

"Look me in the eye, young brat. No one dares to challenge me here. Can I see the contents of the bag you're carrying?" Macho ordered Liam.

"I'm sorry, man. I never knew..." Liam replied shyly, his hands pressing on his burning cheek to ease the pain. His eyes blurred with tears, but he refused to let them fall.

"Who the hell are you? Can I have that bag?" Macho demanded, his group of friends laughing in the background.

"I'm sorry, man. I've got nothing in it, please. It's just my ID and some books," Liam replied faintly, his voice low and calm, despite his racing heart.

"What do you take me for, boy? Can I have that bag?" Macho roared, dragging Liam closer to him.

"How dare you make me say more, boy? I asked for your bag, and you made me say more? Do I look like I'm joking with you?" Macho asked rudely, shaking Liam's shirt.

"Can you give him one more slap for calling you 'man' and not 'sir'?" A female voice added. It was Shakira, the rude mistress of Opulent University, the daughter of the Reptile King, the Lord of the streets in Chicago. She had been rusticated several times, but her father's connections always brought her back.

"No damn cockroaches talk to us anyhow, boy. Know that and know peace," Macho added, snatching Liam's bag from him and emptying it on the floor.

Liam hurried to pick up some of his belongings, but Macho pushed him back, pressing his fingers into the ground with his huge boot, laughing and humiliating Liam as other students walked past, laughing at his misfortune.

"What's that on the floor?" Macho asked.

"It's nothing but my ID card," Liam replied shyly, his heart beating profusely.

"Can I get it?" Macho ordered, the scorn and contempt in his voice evident. He saw Liam as a puppet, a new punching bag in school.

"Here, man," Liam said, handing him the card.

Macho quickly grabbed it, turned to his friends, and grinned. "He's in my department! He's gonna handle all my assignments and work or face the music!" The contempt in his voice showed his authority.

"Man, that's my..." Liam didn't finish his statement before another slap landed on his face. The bitterness in Macho's eyes was clear; he wasn't joking—he was truly a tyrant. The sound of the slap resonated in the Opulent hallway, causing his friends to laugh again.

"Teach that rat a good lesson, Macho. I trust you," Shakira added.

Macho pushed Liam to the floor, causing his hands to scratch on the hard cemented floor.

"Run away from here, man, and never look back. I'll come for you later," Macho ordered as he kicked Liam again and again.

Liam ran, only turning back at a distance to see Macho getting into a C-class Mercedes-Benz car with his friends and zooming off.

****

Liam moved through the crowds like a ghost, trying to go unnoticed, but there was another person who seemed to find him—Pato.

Pato was the epitome of arrogance and cruelty, another wealthy student who took pleasure in tormenting those he deemed beneath him. And to Pato, Liam was the perfect target. Liam was quiet, reserved, and seemed to shrink into himself whenever Pato was near.

As Liam walked to his next class, he felt a hand grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face Pato's sneering face. The wounds in his elbow had bleeded into his shirt, causing it to be stained.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Liam the loser," Pato said, his voice dripping with malice. "What sad excuse for a life are you living today?"

Liam tried to pull away, but Pato's grip was like iron. The other students around them pretended not to notice, averting their eyes and hurrying past.

"Leave me alone, Pato," Liam muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Pato laughed, a cruel sound that sent a shiver down Liam's spine. "Why would I do that? It's so much fun to watch you squirm."

Pato had known Liam to be a poor young boy who sold as a salesman in a cafe owned by his uncle, Bronze, who was also an epitome of cruelty from the looks in his eyes.

He had watched Pato empty a full cup of coffee on Liam with the excuse that it wasn't hot enough for him. The wounds were still fresh on Liam's mind as he hurried into an almost empty classroom.

********

"Hello," a female voice greeted, her eyes looking charming and captivating. "How are you doing?" she continued, but Liam seemed not to be concerned; he was nursing the wounds on his elbow, trying to dry out the blood with a piece of paper. "I'm Lindy," she introduced herself, showing her hands towards Liam with a feigned smile that revealed her diastema.

"I'm Liam," he said, struggling to keep a friendly gesture, a means to cover up the excruciating pains he was going through at that moment. "I'm in the economics department, are you a new intake?" Lindy asked curiously.

"Liam, Laws and history, new intake," he replied hastily as he stretched his hands to shake hers. He could feel the softness of her hands placed on his, a feeling of calmness surging through him. He tried to control himself from the pain he was still feeling.

"It's a pleasure, Liam," Lindy replied, pulling off her hands gently. Liam wasn't sure what Lindy had in mind and wasn't ready to be friendly to anyone, but Lindy never seemed to harm, so he wasn't hostile to her as well.

"What's wrong with your arms?" Lindy asked curiously, stretching her hands towards him to offer help.

"I fell off the stairs, Lindy," Liam replied faintly, trying to cover up for what he had faced earlier.

A feeling of belonging and calm entered into Liam as Lindy hurriedly checked her bag and brought out an ointment with a bandage, tying it on Liam's elbow. "I carry that around as a means of first-aid. I'm being too careful."

"Thanks, Lindy," Liam looked at her and smiled, feeling like he had met an angel in the bustling environs of the Opulent University.

But before he could finish his word, a hand tapped him on his shoulders from behind.