The classroom fell silent.
Not because Professor Holloway gave a long-winded introduction.
But because no one wanted to be the first to speak after Sam’s answer.
“The difference between intelligent people and everyone else…
isn’t that they see more.”
“It’s that they notice what everyone else ignores.”
The words still rang in every student’s head.
Professor Holloway set down the chalk on the desk.
“Interesting.”
He folded his arms.
“Then let’s put that theory to the test, shall we?”
A few students straightened in their chairs.
“Oh no…” muttered someone at the back of the room.
“He does this every year,” said another with a laugh.
Professor Holloway picked up a black marker from the desk instead of the chalk.
“I have a challenge for you.”
The projector turned on.
The class turned to the white screen as an image appeared on it.
It was a photo of a railway station.
There were hundreds of people in it.
Businessmen.
Children.
Tourists.
Police officers.
Street musicians.
Coffee shops.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Simple,” said the professor with a smile.
“You have three minutes.”
“I want every detail you can remember.”
Pens started scratching at paper furiously.
The students leaned forward, trying to memorize as much as they could.
Sam…
Didn’t.
He simply rested his chin on his hand, looking bored.
Mehjabeen frowned.
Why isn’t he observing?
Does he think he’s already memorized everything?
Three minutes later, the image on the projector disappeared.
Professor Holloway clapped his hands together.
“Let’s see how you did.”
“The woman near the entrance…
what color was her umbrella?”
“Red!” said one student.
The professor smiled.
“It was orange.”
The class chuckled.
Another student stood up.
“There were three police officers.”
“Wrong,” said Professor Holloway.
“There were four.”
A third student spoke up.
“The clock at the station said 9:20.”
“9:18,” corrected the professor.
More laughter rang out.
One after another, the students gave their answers.
All wrong.
All wrong.
All wrong.
“As expected,” said Professor Holloway.
He turned to the back of the room.
“Mr.
Valecroft.”
Sam looked up.
“You didn’t write anything.”
“No.”
“Would you like to try?”
The class turned to Sam yet again.
He adjusted his glasses.
“The woman’s umbrella wasn’t orange,” he said.
Professor Holloway raised an eyebrow.
“It was faded because of the lights at the station.”
“The real color was red.”
There was a hushed silence.
The professor smiled.
“Continue.”
“There weren’t four police officers,” said Sam.
“There were three.”
“The fourth…
was a security guard.”
Several students blinked in surprise.
Professor Holloway said nothing.
“The clock didn’t say 9:18,” said Sam.
“It said 9:19.”
“The minute hand covered part of the number.”
Another pause.
Sam went on.
“The violinist wasn’t playing music.”
“He was tuning his instrument.”
“The businessman wasn’t reading the newspaper.”
“He was sleeping behind it.”
“The child with the blue balloon was left-handed.”
A girl in the front row couldn’t help but gasp.
“How can you possibly know that?”
Sam glanced at her.
“He held the balloon in his left hand.”
“No…” the girl shook her head.
“How do you know he’s left-handed?”
“Because his right shoe was untied.”
“If he usually tied his shoes with his right hand…”
“…he would’ve noticed.”
There was another hushed silence.
“He didn’t.”
“So he tied them using his left.”
Nobody said anything.
Professor Holloway smiled.
“A reasonable assumption.”
Sam nodded.
“Not a conclusion.”
“A possibility.”
The professor chuckled.
“A very important distinction.”
Mehjabeen narrowed her eyes at Sam.
Not in disapproval.
Not in fear.
But in fascination.
Very…
Very fascinated.
She had spent years learning about observation.
But this…
This was something else.
The lecture began forty minutes later.
The students filed out of the classroom.
Almost immediately…
Voices puffed up.
“Who even notices stuff like that?”
“I swear he’s cheating somehow.”
“Nah.”
“He just has scary eyes.”
Someone laughed.
“I bet he memorizes traffic lights for fun.”
Across the hallway…
Sam quietly bought another cup of coffee from the vending machine.
The machine’s display said:
OUT OF ORDER
He pressed one button.
Then another.
The machine whirred to life.
A new cup of coffee appeared.
A nearby student blinked.
“…How?”
Sam looked at the vending machine.
“It isn’t out of order,” he said.
“It just needs someone to reset the payment sequence.”
“…You guessed?”
“No.”
“I read the maintenance sticker.”
The student turned around, looking at the back of the machine.
There was a small yellow sticker.
Half-hidden.
“…You’re actually terrifying.”
Sam gave a small smile.
“I get that a lot.”
Far across the campus…
Standing under the shadow of an old oak tree…
The man in the black coat watched everything.
His expression didn’t change.
He quietly pulled out an old silver phone from his pocket.
Dialed a number.
“He noticed us,” said the man on the other end.
“Expected.”
“What now?”
There was a pause.
“Proceed to Phase One.”
The man in the black coat looked up at Room 302.
Where Sam had vanished into.
“…Understood.”
He ended the call.
And for the first time that day…
Smiled.
End of Chapter 2
TO BE CONTINUED…….