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William's question was like a fuse igniting gunpowder, instantly silencing the other professors who had been engaged in lively discussion just moments before. The atmosphere in the room became unusually tense, and everyone's gaze turned toward James and William, who stood together. The invisible tension between them spread like a palpable charge, freezing the previously cheerful ambiance.
James had once been the leader of the Department of History, a former Department Chair whose influence was felt everywhere. Under his leadership, the department achieved numerous academic successes, and his name was long associated with its glorious moments. His prestige was deeply rooted; whether in academic insights or departmental management, James had been the undeniable center of this place. However, as time passed, he gradually lost his former brilliance. The leadership and vision he once possessed were now overshadowed by his declining creativity and the mundane tasks that wore him down.
William's arrival was like a breath of fresh air, bringing youthful vigor, boundless creativity, and an ever-present energy. His initiative and boldness quickly made him stand out in the department, gradually replacing James's once-secure position. Professors began to rely more on William's new ideas and plans, while James's influence waned, pushing him further to the margins. Once untouchable, he now seemed forgotten in this power struggle.
William's words deliberately pushed James into a corner; he brought up issues with James's papers and hinted at the instability of his academic position. This maneuver made the other professors acutely aware of the undeniable animosity between the two. The open rivalry had long ceased to be a secret; since William took over as Department Chair, a power play had existed between him and James. James attempted to suppress William using his past influence, but as time went on, it became clear that this strategy was failing.
This struggle gradually pushed James to the edge, forcing him to confront his humiliating predicament. The professors silently observed their standoff, understanding that James's era seemed to be over while William's victory extended beyond mere academic success; he had completely taken control of the department.
After hearing William's remarks, anger raged within James like a wildfire, yet his face maintained that signature smile—a smile that was more skin-deep than sincere, laced with hidden coldness. He took a deep breath and slowly rose from his seat, standing tall as if he were still the leader who once commanded everything in the Department of History.
"Thank you so much, William!" James suddenly raised his voice with an exaggerated tone that drew everyone's attention. His smile grew brighter, filled with enthusiasm, but its insincerity caused several professors present to frown slightly. James stepped toward William with open arms and embraced him warmly.
William appeared somewhat taken aback but quickly regained his composure and forced a smile as he accepted this seemingly friendly hug. However, just as they drew close, James leaned in near William’s ear and spoke in a low voice that only William could hear.
"Greed can lead to one’s downfall," James whispered softly, laced with subtle mockery and warning. "Be careful not to choke on such big ambitions, young man."
The words struck William like a cold blade, silently piercing through him. Though James spoke softly, the chill and disdain in his tone sent an immediate shiver down William’s spine. With a smile still plastered on his face, James patted William’s back as if offering encouragement and support; yet each pat felt like an intentional weight pressing down on William, making him extremely uncomfortable.
They maintained their embrace while James’s smile remained unchanged as if nothing was amiss between them. The surrounding professors observed this scene with expressions of satisfaction and praise, mistakenly believing it to be a genuine exchange between mentor and mentee, completely oblivious to the undercurrents hidden beneath.
James gently released William from the embrace but kept that seemingly gentle smile intact; however, deeper hostility lurked in his eyes. He knew this struggle was far from over; it was merely a new beginning.
James maintained his unchanging smile as he reached for the coffee cup on the table, picking it up leisurely as if the earlier confrontation was of no consequence. He looked up at the surrounding professors, his gaze casual and relaxed. "Ah, I have another class soon, so I should be going," he said in a light and natural tone, seemingly unaffected by the earlier tension.
He then grabbed the documents on the table as well, still smiling as if this were just an ordinary conversation. "If you need any help later, feel free to ask," James continued, his tone polite and confident. However, he quickly shifted gears, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes. "But being that literature advisor might not be suitable after all."
His words were delivered with a casual air, yet the rejection was unmistakable. The other professors paused slightly, unsure of how to respond, while only William managed to maintain a strained smile, sensing the underlying tension in James's words.
James said no more, turning on his heel and striding out of the History Department Office. His steps were steady and decisive, his back exuding confidence as if he bore no burdens. However, when the office door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud, his smile vanished without a trace.
James's footsteps echoed down the long corridor, quick and heavy, as if each step was an effort to suppress the anger boiling within him. His expression darkened; his eyes were hollow yet filled with unresolved resentment. He had once been the pillar of this department, the soul of the Department of History. In his prime, he had looked down upon professors and students alike with unmatched knowledge and authority. He had controlled everything—every academic decision and research direction had to pass through his approval.
But now, reality had cruelly thrust him into this humiliating position. He was forced to teach that damned general education course to a group of foolish, ignorant undergraduates about basic knowledge he had long grown weary of—students who showed no interest in history and were hardly worth his time. The thought made a wave of nausea rise in James's chest, as if their stupidity and ignorance were polluting the very space he occupied, making even the air feel tainted.
"This is utterly ridiculous," he gritted his teeth inwardly, his anger flaring hotter. "I, James Quinn, was once the most important scholar here, leading the entire department's development. Now I’ve sunk to teaching these credit-hungry fools!" Images of those students filled his mind: sitting in class doing nothing but staring blankly at their phones or dozing off at their desks. Their attitudes dripped with disdain for academia; they cared only for that pitiful credit and showed no concern for the value of the knowledge he imparted from the podium.
"These idiots!" His internal curses sharpened as pressure built in his chest almost suffocating him. "Why should I share the same air with this garbage? Every breath feels like inhaling their stupidity and incompetence."
James took a deep breath, trying to suppress this feeling of disgust, but bitterness lingered within him. At that moment, he felt as though his entire life was slipping into an abyss. The glory of yesteryear slipped through his fingers like sand—irretrievable. He felt unwilling and unable to accept such a fate. Damn William—the young upstart who had seized the position of Department Chair with fresh academic ideas and excessive confidence—had trampled over him, once a leader reduced to begging for scraps while accepting this degrading course assignment to teach students who didn’t deserve to hear him speak.
"This is an insult to me—a humiliation for my entire life!" The anger within James surged almost uncontrollably. He had once harbored lofty ambitions and ideals; he believed himself to be at the pinnacle of academia—a figure admired by countless juniors. Now all that had been ruthlessly destroyed by reality; he was merely a marginalized old scholar relegated to teaching worthless general education courses like some cheap laborer just trying to make ends meet.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became; his pace quickened further. He could not endure this status quo or accept being reduced to mediocrity among those he despised. Yet he knew there was no other choice. For survival and that meager paycheck, he could only grit his teeth and force himself to face this demeaning situation.
"These idiots don’t deserve my teaching," he scoffed inwardly. "They have no idea how noble or exalted someone like me truly is. They aren’t even worthy of hearing a single word from my lips."
James quickened his pace, the anger in his heart gradually transforming into a cold determination. He knew that this humiliating life had to come to an end; no matter what, he would not live in such humility forever.
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