Becoming A Tech Tycoon Begins With Regression novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Newton Academy

Ethan threw on a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans before grabbing his backpack. His hands moved on autopilot, muscle memory guiding him through the process.

His thoughts were filled with only two things, he had really regressed to the past, and the OmniTech System was real.

The ten thousand dollars in his account was proof of that.

But right now, he had a more immediate problem, he was late for work.

He stuffed his cracked Samsung J5 into his pocket, slung his bag over his shoulder, and dashed out of the apartment.

Newton Academy was only four blocks from his apartment, but with the morning traffic at its peak, running was his only option.

"Damn you, young me. You really let yourself slack off," Ethan muttered, already feeling slightly winded. "Even 35-year-old me wasn’t this lazy."

He immediately made a mental note to start working out since the body didn’t feel like his anymore.

_______

Five minutes later, Ethan arrived at the school gates. The place was exactly as he remembered, blue worn out paint and a modest three-story structure that had clearly seen better days.

The Newton Academy sign above the entrance was slightly faded, and the security guard at the gate—Mr. Willis, an old man who always smelled like strong coffee—gave him a tired look.

"You’re late today Mr Carter" Mr Willis said in a tired tone.

Ethan forced a breathless smile, still catching his breath from the sprint. "Yeah, rough morning. You know how it is."

Mr. Willis shook his head but didn’t push further, lazily gesturing for him to go in. "Get moving before Miss Harper gets angry."

"Angrier than she already is?" Ethan chuckled as he walked past the gate.

"Just hurry, kid," the old man said as he closed the gates again.

Inside, the familiar morning chaos of Newton Academy greeted him—students laughing and shouting, teachers herding kids to their classrooms, and the occasional late straggler slipping past faculty eyes.

It was exactly how he remembered it.

He barely made it to the faculty office before Miss Harper, the academy’s administrator, stormed up to him.

She was a woman in her late thirties, always dressed in crisp office attire, her dark hair tied in a severe bun. Her sharp eyes locked onto him like a missile guidance system.

"You’re late."

"I know," Ethan said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Traffic was brutal."

"Traffic?" Miss Harper crossed her arms. "You live four blocks away."

"...Construction."

She narrowed her eyes but sighed. "Just get to your class. The students have been waiting."

Ethan nodded and made his way toward Room 302, his assigned classroom.

The moment he stepped in, a wave of nostalgia hit him.

Rows of desks, outdated computers that barely ran modern software, and a whiteboard covered in half-erased notes from the previous lesson.

And then there were the students.

A group of teenagers, mostly uninterested, some tapping away at their phones, others chatting quietly.

A few, however, actually looked up when he entered.

’Right... what was this class about today?’ Ethan glanced at the schedule taped to his desk.

"Introduction to AI and Programming."

_________

The class lasted a couple of hours before he dismissed the students and headed towards the administrator’s, Miss Harper’s, office.

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