From Bullets To Billions Chapter 668: The Low

The bowling alley's interior, illuminated by neon, transformed from a celebratory hub into a scene of grim obligation. Sono's relentless assault on the defeated Eric could only be halted if every freshman submitted to the seniors' demands. One by one, those who had clutched their small black velvet pouches with hands that shook like leaves finally gave in. Under the stern, unwavering gaze of the upperclassmen, they ingested the blue pills, the acrid chemical taste serving as a stark emblem of their powerlessness.

In mere minutes, the effects surged. A subtle warmth bloomed at the base of their skulls, progressively spreading through their limbs. Their feet suddenly felt incredibly light, as though the room's gravitational pull had lessened. Unbidden smiles curved their lips, and a wave of lighthearted laughter cascaded through the business department students. The bowling alley's colors intensified, the music pulsed with a more captivating rhythm, and the paralyzing fear that had gripped them moments before began to dissipate into a euphoric haze.

However, beneath the manufactured merriment, a chilling realization persisted: they had lost agency. It was akin to being a spectator in their own bodies, observing from a remove as they laughed and moved. The seniors, perceiving this shift, prowled closer like hunters, forcing drinks upon the freshmen to intensify the drug's impact. The night promised to be a prolonged, indistinct experience of enforced revelry.

"It's proceeding well. Everything is unfolding precisely as planned," Yovan commented, settling against a polished card table as his gaze swept across the room. His eyes held a chilling detachment, unaffected by the chemical euphoria he was distributing. "No disruptions, no more defiance. We understand that the most effective method to preempt issues is ensuring unified adherence. Complete submission is key."

He turned towards a contingent of seniors from the rugby and soccer teams, his voice descending into a low, commanding murmur. "You know what's to be done with those who were absent today. We cannot afford any weaknesses in our network."

Eventually, as the early morning hours approached, the festivities began to wane. The freshmen were then herded back towards their dormitory accommodations, akin to livestock. Aside from the harsh subjugation of Eric, no other significant incidents occurred – no rousing speeches, no further physical altercations. The only intervention had been the pills.

Yovan and Talia barely managed to return to their shared room. Their movements were uncoordinated and hesitant as they struggled with the key, eventually unlocking the door before collapsing onto their respective beds, asleep before their heads touched the pillows.

Waking the next morning was heralded by their alarms, which had been sounding for a full ten minutes. The noise felt like a physical impact against their eardrums. Talia groaned, her entire body feeling heavy and sluggish, as if her blood had been replaced with lead. A dull, throbbing ache resonated in her head, making every sliver of sunlight peeking through the blinds feel like a sharp stab.

They felt dreadful, a profound exhaustion that far surpassed a typical hangover. Every part of their beings urged them to remain beneath the covers, shielded from the day.

"Talia... are you alright?" Yovan rasped, managing to make her way to the bathroom. She splashed icy water onto her face, but it did little to dispel the mental fog.

"I'm awake... I just can't summon the strength to move," Talia responded, her voice sounding empty. She gazed at the ceiling, attempting to reconstruct the events of the previous night. "I don't think this is solely from the drinks. I made every effort to avoid the alcohol. I was surreptitiously emptying my cups into the toilets or spilling them discreetly when no one was observing."

If it wasn't the alcohol, there was only one probable cause: the blue pill. Talia reached into her trouser pocket and retrieved the small, black pouch. She peered inside, noticing the two remaining blue pills nestled at the bottom. As she observed their vivid hue, a deceptive thought flickered through her mind. She recalled the invigorating, almost invincible sensation she had experienced the previous night, how vibrant the world had seemed and how fear had been entirely absent. She briefly contemplated, for just a fleeting moment, whether taking another pill would alleviate this oppressive grogginess.

"These are clearly some kind of synthetic stimulant," Yovan stated, staggering back into the room and grabbing her bag. "Come on, we need to head out. We’re already running late, and we don’t want to give the seniors another justification to single us out."

The pair proceeded towards the business department, anticipating finding the lecture hall sparsely populated. To their surprise upon entering, they observed a visibly unwell Steve already seated. He appeared pale and was leaning heavily on his desk, engaged in a low-key conversation with Max.

"Yeah, so that’s what happened at the event," Steve explained, nervously running a hand through his hair. "It was absolutely wild, Max. This guy named Eric… he actually tried to assist us, but he ended up hospitalized. The seniors… their power is on a completely different level."

"What are you even doing, Steve?" Yovan interjected, approaching them with her annoyance amplified by her current physical discomfort. "Is there any point in recounting this to Max? It’s not like he can do anything about it. Honestly, we’re probably all in this predicament because he attempted to be a hero yesterday. They made it explicitly clear: they’re dispatching someone to deal with the ‘no-shows’ and ensure everyone understands the consequences of disobedience."

Max remained still, processing the information. He instantly recognized the manipulative strategy. It was an intricate, tiered system of social pressure, a psychological tactic employed by certain authoritarian entities as a final measure to maintain control over a turbulent populace. Instead of targeting one disruptive individual, the entire group bears the penalty for that person’s actions. This compels the disciples to become the enforcers, causing the majority to turn against the solitary dissenter for their own self-preservation.

This was a scheme that only proved effective when the majority perceived that compliance offered greater rewards than defiance. In this scenario, Donto’s enforcers acted as the ‘teachers.’

"You all… those pills they provided? Cease taking any more," Max instructed, his tone measured yet resolute. "They compelled you to ingest the initial dose but deliberately gave you the subsequent two. Their objective is to create an association between the euphoric effect and the party, and the subsequent crash with the following morning. They anticipate your current state, gambling that you’ll take the second pill simply to feel normal again."

Max leaned forward, his gaze intense. "You might experience a surge of strength for an hour, or believe they'll aid your all-night study sessions, but it's a carefully laid trap. Each administration will diminish in potency. You’ll require an escalating dosage to achieve the same peak, and before you realize it, you'll be entirely ensnared by the seniors’ influence. You’ll comply with any demand just to obtain the next packet."

If this was Donto’s grand master plan, propagating this addiction throughout the university’s vast student body and potentially extending it to other institutions nationwide, Max finally grasped the method behind Donto’s generation of immense, untraceable profits. He wasn't merely a petty tyrant; he was a drug distributor.

"Attention, everyone!" A powerful, resonant voice abruptly disrupted the lecture hall’s tranquility. "I believe a specific individual failed to attend the mandatory festivities yesterday. Max Smith, where exactly are you?"

An unnerving silence descended upon the room. All eyes shifted towards the entrance, where Sono, the senior rugby player from the previous night, now stood. A sharp, expectant grin stretched across his face. He appeared perfectly composed, showing no trace of the profound exhaustion that currently weighed down the freshmen.