WYSIWYG

A MIRACLE happened. That's what my classmates were saying the next day in our classroom. As usual, I arrived early to earn those precious 10 merit points. I walked past several rows of seats before reaching my spot at the back of the room. Everyone was looking at their phones, checking the SIMS.

"Ano kaya'ng nakain ni Sir? Bakit biglang tumaas ang grade ko sa kanya?"

"Baka kasi mali ang computation niya no'ng una. Halos lahat yata tayo itinaas niya ang grade. 'Yong mga line of seven kahapon, 85 na ngayon."

"Grabe! May 'di siguro siya na-compute na score natin kaya nag-iba ang grades natin."

I was already seated when I checked the SIMS app on my phone. When I checked it first thing this morning, nothing had changed. Cesareo probably hadn't logged into his account yet, so he hadn't been able to adjust the grades right away. My grade went from 83 to 85. Instead of deductions, I had been awarded fifty merit points.

To hide the smirk forming on my face, I raised my phone to cover my expression. Everything went exactly as I had dictated to the toad-faced professor last night. In exchange for not exposing him, I ordered him to make 85 the lowest grade for his students in Logic—not only in our class but in the others as well. He had no choice but to comply.

What I did—blackmailing a college instructor—was strictly illegal. If anyone found out that I was the one who threatened the grumpy toad, I would be expelled from this university. So I had to think up a strategy to ensure the blackmail couldn't be traced back to me. That's when I came up with the idea of a massive grade readjustment.

I wasn't a detective, but I had to think like one if I wanted to outsmart any Sherlock wannabe who might try to track me down. Investigators would first look at who benefited from the blackmail. Since almost all of Cesareo's students with grades below 85 received a boost, it would be hard to pinpoint which one of us was behind it. It's like finding a needle in a haystack.

But I wasn't done with him yet. Far from over! He still owed me, and I'd make sure he would pay. Last night was just an appetizer. The main course would be served at noon. I hoped he would still have an appetite later.

As soon as I put down my phone, someone's shadow was cast over me. I nearly fell off my seat when I saw Irene standing beside me.

"I-Irene!" I exclaimed, my heart almost dropped.

"Sorry, nagulat yata kita," she said.

"H-hindi naman."

"I appreciate your message last night," she added. "It took courage to stand up to Sir, and maybe it paid off? Chinat ako ni Serena kanina 'tapos nabanggit niya na tumaas ang kanyang grade from 83 to 85. Sakto sa minimum grade requirement para ma-maintain ang scholarship niya."

"Maybe you're the one who made this miracle happen..." I pointed at her, squinting. "Baka pagkatapos mong i-confront si Cesareo, na-realize niya na posibleng may mali sa kanyang computation kaya ni-review niya ang grades natin. It might have looked like he didn't appreciate your comments, but your words must have left an impact on him."

But this wasn't a miracle. Obviously, I couldn't take credit for the massive grade adjustment. How I wished I could tell everyone that I did it not only for Irene and Serena but for all the other victims of our sleazy Logic professor. For now, it was best to keep the truth hidden.

"Thank you, Wysiwyg," she said softly before leaving me alone in my seat. The way she said my name sounded like it came from an angel.

Then our conversation shifted to the discussion of our group project. Serena also joined in, looking cheerier than yesterday.

Maybe I owed the toad for the mess he had initially caused. If it hadn't been for him giving Serena that low grade, which had worried Irene, things wouldn't have reached this point. He deserved some credit—at least from me—but he also deserved the humiliation that was about to slap him hard in the face.

AS I mentioned, my business with Sir Julio Cesareo was far from over. The grade adjustment was just a preview. Now it was time for the main event. Every student on campus should grab their popcorn because what was about to happen next would be one hell of a show.

It was almost noon when our Advanced Routing Principles class was dismissed. Since it was lunchtime, the campus square became crowded with students from all courses as it served as an intersection point for the four surrounding school buildings.

I considered myself lucky today because I quickly found a steel bench that some students had just vacated. I occupied it fast before anyone else could. I took my laptop out of my bag and placed it on the steel table. While the operating system booted up, I looked up at the giant LED screen in front of me. No one was paying attention to the announcement about our university's re-accreditation.

What I was about to do could land me in jail if I got caught. That's why I kept glancing behind me, left and right, just in case someone was watching. But with everyone busy in the campus square, the chances of anyone noticing me or what I was about to do were low. This setup gave me the perfect cover.

Last night, I traced the way the campus LED screen was connected to the campus network, running through the outdated control portal that should have been patched years ago. But patches and security weren't high priorities here—especially not for a screen used mostly for announcements and campus ads.

I smirked. They had left the system as wide open as an unlocked door. When I finally breached the last layer of security and accessed the LED screen's control interface, I felt a rush of victory. The control panel was almost laughably basic. A bland log-in screen greeted me with "Admin" and "Password" fields. Using a network cracking tool, I easily cracked the password. Surprisingly, it was set to the default credentials, probably because no one bothered to monitor it.

With a few clicks, I navigated through the options until I found the media upload section. There it was, the button that would let me broadcast my file. If I wanted to, I could stream a pirated movie up there. I could even play a pornographic video. If I were a hacker who loved pulling pranks on people, I might have done exactly that. But there was something far more important than those stunts.

I wanted to make a statement. I wanted to send everyone a message.

Before proceeding with my plan, I checked the lineup.

cu-ebbm-01 2021-02-14 15:33 Regional Schools Press Conference Winners
cu-ebbm-02 2021-02-16 09:09 PAASCU Level 4 Accreditation
cu-ebbm-03 2021-02-19 08:16 College Recognition Day
cu-ebbm-04 2021-02-20 12:12 Filing of Certificate of Candidacy
cu-ebbm-05 2021-01-10 10:10 Clean As You Go Reminder
cu-ebbm-06 2021-01-03 13:10 New Courses Offered

I looked up at the electronic bulletin board and watched the series of announcements. What was being shown on screen matched the items in the lineup. I was in the right network and on the right track.

It's showtime.

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart rate spike as I dragged and dropped a video.

Uploading... 10%

Uploading... 30%

Uploading... 70%

Uploading... 99%

Upload complete!

"Yes . . ." I mumbled, trying not to draw any attention. No network administrator had noticed that I had infiltrated their system and already uploaded the video.

This is too easy! Way too easy!

I couldn't help but smirk when I saw the last item in the lineup. Perfect timing—the new courses offered by Clark University were just about to flash on the LED screen. In about thirty seconds, the students, faculty members, and everyone else on this campus would know the monster that was Cesareo .

Keep your eyes peeled. I was only a few seconds away from exposing the flaws of a wretched system enslaving all the students at this university.

Three... Two... One... Now!

The gigantic screen went black, and a deafening static noise echoed across the campus square. Even I had to cover my ears against the grating, drawn-out beep. It would only last ten seconds, just enough to grab everyone's attention.

A masked man wearing the prescribed male student uniform appeared. He was in a dark room, and his mask bore the Greek letter Σ.

"My name is SIGMA," my avatar spoke.

Students around me became curious about what in the world was going on. I could hear them buzzing like bees around me. They needed to quiet down so everyone could hear my message.

"And I am here to tell you a truth."

Random numbers began popping up in every available space. Some students stood up and walked closer to the giant screen. Even those who were about to climb the stairs or enter rooms came to a halt just to see what was catching everyone's attention in the square.

"All of you are well aware of the M.E.R.I.T. system that was implemented three years ago. Whoever thought that was a brilliant idea is an absolute fool. The university wants the students to be more active and responsible in our academic performance, extra-curricular activities, and attitude by chaining us to a system that can be exploited by those with evil intentions."

This was my way of raising a middle finger to the university administration and the student government. Their noble idea put us in a dilemma. They thought that the merit system would catapult us to the pinnacle of productivity. But it only trapped us in shifting sand. No matter how we moved, this system would swallow us whole.

Didn't I deserve a round of applause for delivering a reality-slapping speech? I spent my entire evening recording those lines. It took me how many takes just to perfect the delivery. I was good with the keyboard, but not with the mic. And it wasn't just any recording! I had to distort my voice so no one could recognize me in case anyone heard the message being broadcast.

If those who would try to track me down were smart, I needed to be smarter than them.

"This system is a double-barrel gun that can be used by those in power to threaten students to do their bidding. For instance, the esteemed Logic instructor, Julio Cesareo."

The screen flashed with a picture of our toad-faced professor. I chose his most unflattering photo. Everyone gasped—either in surprise or disgust—when his bloated face appeared. Some students took out their phones to take photos or videos of what was being shown.

"Shall we play a game first? If you want Julio Cesareo exposed, post the hashtag #ExposeCesareo on UniVerse. If it makes it to the hot topic section, everyone here will know the truth about him."

I uploaded another video and added it to the lineup. Almost everyone around me took out their phones and started tapping on their screens. Those who were and had been students of that toad would surely want him exposed.

To avoid looking suspicious, I also checked my phone and browsed through UniVerse. Some of my classmates had posted #ExposeCesareo. I even saw Serena making a post about it. In about two minutes, I was notified that #ExposeCesareo had become a trending topic.

I made a promise, so I must now deliver.

"Game over," I muttered, tapping the enter key to play the next video.

"The people have spoken," my avatar said after minutes of silence. "You want Julio Cesareo exposed—he who has thought of himself as a god who believes he can control any student through the M.E.R.I.T. system. Now, he is taking advantage of the system's flaws to get what he wants and threaten those who will say no to him. To date, he has victimized a total of thirty-three female students across different courses."

A collage of photos of the women he had chatted with quickly flashed on the screen. With the utmost respect for their privacy, I blurred their faces. They had already suffered humiliation just by chatting with a monster. I didn't want to embarrass them any further in front of the student body.

I wondered if Cesareo was watching this exposé. It would be such a shame if he wasn't. He's the star of the show. This was his five minutes of fame. He shouldn't miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The students watching found themselves even more stunned when screenshots of his conversation threads were flashed on the screen. Even I almost threw up when I first saw their exchanges. I pitied the poor girls who had to endure the lewd language of a perverted instructor.

"Because Cesareo has unregulated power over how he grades his students and how many merit points he can award or take away, he thought he was invincible. Unfortunately for him, his day of reckoning has come."

Thanks to Irene, something inside me snapped and compelled me to take action. My eyes were opened to the downside of the M.E.R.I.T. system and the abuse by people like Cesareo. A system would remain rotten as long as there were rotten people running and ruining it.

"By tolerating the merit system, we're giving people like Julio Cesareo a gun that they can abuse to coerce students who want to maintain good grades and earn merit points. How many Cesareos must we expose before you realize that the system is riddled with flaws?"

Almost everyone around me nodded, some even squinted their eyes in contemplation. Sometimes, one had to knock some sense into people's heads to wake them up from the nightmare they had indulged in.

"If you agree with me, post the hashtag #AbolishMERITsystem and let your voices be heard. Do not fear for I am on your side."

The screen faded to black, leaving the words "ABOLISH MERIT SYSTEM NOW." I logged out of the network, ensuring I left no traces of me being inside it.

The huge LED screen returned to its regular programming, showing the faces of regional and international competition winners for the nth time. The entire campus square fell silent. Everyone stopped walking. It was as if the world itself paused for a few seconds.

"Tama! Dapat alisin na ang merit-merit na 'yan!" shouted a man in the front.

"Oo, ginagawa lang tayong mga alipin niyan!" shouted another man from the opposite side.

"Ilang prof pa kaya ang umaabuso ro'n?" asked a woman from a distance.

"ABOLISH! ABOLISH! ABOLISH!"

Students behind me chanted in unison, raising their fists into the air. The usual noontime atmosphere in the square turned into a loud protest.

The world resumed spinning as papers flew through the air. Books were even being thrown, which I had to avoid. The situation almost turned into a riot. Almost everyone was shouting. Almost everyone was throwing stuff everywhere.

I stuffed my laptop into my bag and left my steel bench as quickly as I could. I had to protect all my assets as they were my only weapon in the war that was about to come.

"I-ABOLISH NA 'YAN!" shouted a burly man who climbed onto a steel table to voice his opinion. Everyone looked up to him as if he was the leader of the protest.

"Abolish! Abolish! Abolish!"

As the crowd grew more out of control, some security personnel tried to contain them. They asked the students standing on the steel benches to come down, but they were ignored.

In the blink of an eye, the situation escalated into chaos. Punches were thrown, kicks were flying everywhere. The campus square, once a place of peace, became a mess. I didn't expect the students to be this passionate about a system that enslaved us. For so long, they must have suppressed their feelings, fearing punishment for speaking out.

"Everyone, please calm down!"

"Tanggalin n'yo muna ang merit system na 'yan!"

To avoid getting involved in the riot, I walked away from the campus square and observed the commotion from a distance. Even the ROTC cadets and passing student council members tried to intervene. Good luck trying to appease an angry mob.

All I wanted this noon was to expose a morally corrupt professor. This riot was not what I had expected, but in a way, it was even better than what I had imagined!

I covered my mouth, trying to hide the smile that I had been holding back since the video aired.

This is it. This was my chance to do something truly meaningful in my college life. For two years, my only goal had been to survive until graduation while enjoying my time here. But no, that was no longer the case. Things were about to change.

The students rioting in the campus square might not represent the entire student body, but they showed that a portion of us hated the system. That's exactly what I wanted and needed to exploit: their emotions, their hatred. If I played my cards right, I could lead a revolution at this university.

For there to be order, there must first be chaos.

-30-

NEXT CHAPTER: Wysiwyg's campaign sparks debate among students.