Chapter 86: The Reward of Effort

Translator: RaidenTL

Chapter 86: The Reward of Effort

"The Student Council, huh..."

Faced with the choice Celicia had given him, Muen fell into a brief silence.

As St. Maria Academy prided itself on its atmosphere of freedom, the Student Council was granted significant authority. One could see this just from the fact that they were responsible for checking attendance even in the very first class.

Furthermore, the Student Council held immense prestige among the students. If he joined, the "scumbag" aura clinging to him would undoubtedly be diluted. It might even be possible to completely strip away the prejudices others had foisted upon him and become the "good student" he dreamed of being.

That was likely Celicia’s intention.

No matter how he looked at it, it was a good choice.

But...

"Do I currently have the qualifications to join the Student Council?"

Muen looked into Celicia’s eyes and asked seriously, "Or is this a special favor you're giving me, Celicia?"

"...Whether you are 'excellent' right now isn't what matters."

Celicia lowered her gaze, staring at the coffee in her cup. "What matters is whether you have the heart that wants to become excellent. Muen Campbell, do you feel you lack that?"

"Of course I have it, but that’s unrelated to the topic at hand, isn't it?"

The Student Council's special status meant that countless people fought tooth and nail to join every year. Consequently, those who made the cut were invariably the elites of their respective grades.

Take Ariel Bugard, for example. If she joined the Student Council, no one would object—mostly because anyone who had an issue with her had been beaten up by her last semester.

But Muen Campbell was different.

Muen Campbell was the grade's most famous scumbag, failing student, and playboy.

It had taken him an entire year to learn a single spell, and it was the simplest Illumination Spell.

He had scored a mere three points on his Magic Basic Theory exam last semester.

If someone like him suddenly joined the Student Council, everyone would assume it was a backroom deal.

Not to mention, he was engaged to the current Student Council President, Celicia.

This would only further incite a sense of injustice and hostility from others.

"It would become a stain on your reputation, Celicia."

"You think I care?"

Celicia arched a willow-thin eyebrow, a hint of playfulness dancing at the corners of her mouth. "Let outsiders say what they want. Since when have I ever—"

"But I care."

Muen interrupted Celicia, speaking with gravity. "I care."

"..."

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the pale blue curtains, tracing bright lines across Muen’s face. Celicia stared blankly at the man before her, a look of clear astonishment surfacing in her eyes for the first time.

"I’ve already caused you to be touched by filth once. Please, don't make me carry that kind of guilt again, okay?"

Muen gently placed his empty coffee cup on the table and offered a sincere compliment. "The coffee was delicious."

"...Thank you," Celicia replied.

"Then I’ll be going. Goodbye."

"Mm."

Muen walked out of the Student Council Room, gently closing the door behind him.

The light in the room dimmed slightly.

It only served to make the flickering light in Celicia’s eyes more apparent.

"Ha..."

Celicia let out a soft breath, then rested her cheek in her hand, staring into the void.

Suddenly, a faint smile blossomed on her exquisite face.

It was like the melting of spring snow.

"Muen Campbell..."

"You really have changed..."

*

"President! President!"

Celicia pulled back her gaze as she saw Wei'er, with her signature bun-hair, running in frantically from outside.

"The thing you asked me to keep an eye on—I brought it!"

After speaking, Wei'er leaned against the table, panting for breath. Then she noticed the coffee cup on the desk.

"Eh? Did someone just visit?"

"Is it not normal for people to visit the Student Council?" Celicia tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "So, where is it?"

"H-Here!"

Wei'er handed a stack of newspapers to Celicia, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she shouted, "The content this time is too shocking! I was completely stunned. I never expected that behind Muen Campbell's history of two-timing thirteen—no, fourteen girls—there were so many hidden secrets!"

"...Didn't I tell you to read less of that?" Celicia took the newspaper, her tone slightly chiding. "The content in here isn't as factual as you think."

"Hehe, I can't help it if the headlines are so eye-catching! I accidentally took a peek," Wei'er said, scratching her head sheepishly.

"..."

Celicia knew the girl's curiosity was irrepressible, so she didn't press the matter. She lowered her gaze to the newspaper's contents.

— “The Sinking of the Dreadnought-class Battleship! The Virgin-Slayer’s Powerful Counterattack!”

"They even dare to make up stories about the teachers? That guy has some nerve."

After a glance at the headline, Celicia lost all interest in reading further. She stood up and headed for the door.

"Eh? President, are you going out?"

"I have some business."

"But what about all these documents?" Wei'er patted the mountain of paperwork piled on the desk, looking a bit panicked. "These are all very urgent."

Celicia turned back, her gaze calm.

"Secretary?"

"Huh?"

"You are the Student Council Secretary, aren't you?" Celicia said. "Then I’ll leave these to you for now."

"Wha—?"

Wei'er froze in place, her expression looking as if the sky had collapsed.

This many documents...

It would be the death of her!

"Do your best, Secretary," Celicia patted Wei'er on the shoulder, whispering a gentle warning in her ear. "By the way, if I come back and find you've handled these poorly... you'll never see your beloved The Overbearing Evil God Falls in Love with Me novels again."

"...Are you going to throw my novels away?" Wei'er asked piteously.

"No, I will directly ban the publisher from printing such books," Celicia said, cold as iron.

"...So cruel! The President is too cruel!"

*

The News Club.

"Mingotte! Raymond! Senior!"

Ariel slammed a stack of newspapers onto the desk, roaring at the flamboyantly dressed man reclining in a lounge chair.

"Can you explain to me what the hell these things you wrote in the paper are supposed to mean?"

"Oh my, isn't this the famous Ariel Bugard?"

Mingotte, the News Club President with his hair dyed bright green, was focused on filing his nails. He only slightly lifted an eyelid when Ariel roared, maintaining an air of complete indifference.

"What’s the matter? To think you’d have the time to grace my humble News Club with your presence today. It truly brings light to this shabby place."

"Stop playing dumb!"

Ariel grabbed a newspaper and pointed at a report highlighted in red, fuming. "What does 'Dreadnought-class Battleship' mean? What do you mean by 'Muen Campbell's ex-girlfriend'? And abortions? Stealing men? Is this how irresponsibly your News Club writes reports?"

"Oh, that." Mingotte glanced at it and sneered. "Gossip columns. Doesn't every news outlet have them?"

"Even gossip needs to be based on facts, doesn't it?" Ariel pounded the table. "But isn't this all just complete fabrication?"

"Well..." Mingotte finally sat up slightly. He picked up the newspaper, flipped it to the back, and pointed at a line of tiny text at the very bottom, smiling. "Didn't I put a disclaimer here?"

Ariel leaned in, her eyes widening as she realized it said: “The above content is merely the subjective speculation of the News Club for entertainment purposes and does not represent any actual facts.”

"Who could even see that?!" Ariel froze for a second before roaring even louder. "You guys clearly did this on purpose!"

"Oh? So, Junior Ariel has a problem with me." Mingotte sneered. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

"Recall all the papers and issue a public apology telling everyone the truth!" Ariel said through gritted teeth.

"I see, I understand what you mean." Mingotte nodded solemnly, then said, "But that’s impossible."

"Why?"

"Recall the papers? Apologize? That’s basically asking for the News Club's lifeblood. How could I possibly agree?"

"But you're violating my personal rights!"

"Hmm, I suppose that is a bit wrong." Mingotte stroked his chin in thought for a moment, then suddenly said, "How about this? I’ll give you ten percent of the profits from these papers. What do you think?"

"..."

"Well? To tell you the truth, these are selling very well. Even ten percent is a significant amount of income." Mingotte arched his eyebrows exaggeratedly and chuckled. "You only have to sacrifice a bit of useless reputation to get heaps of gold. Isn't that a profitable deal?"

"You bastard—what do you think a person's reputation is?"

Ariel’s fingernails dug deep marks into the desk. She glared at Mingotte, leaning forward like a beast ready to pounce.

"I don't want a single cent of your filthy money! You must recall every single paper and apologize to everyone who has been troubled by your false rumors!"

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"You—"

"Oh? Does Junior Ariel want to make a move on me?" Mingotte looked at Ariel, who seemed ready to throw a punch at any second. His expression remained utterly calm, even mocking. "Fine, go ahead. After all, a second-year junior challenging a sixth-year senior like me would make for a great headline. I never turn down news. However... you should think carefully, Junior Ariel. Can you... actually beat me?"

"..."

Ariel’s eyes were bloodshot, looking as if she wanted to swallow the man alive.

But in the end, she didn't strike.

Because, for the time being, she truly was no match for this punchable guy.

After all, Mingotte was a sixth-year, and a renowned one at that. Even if Ariel could fight above her level, there were limits. Currently, a four-year gap was her limit.

Unless...

But using that power on a piece of trash like him was clearly not worth it.

"Don't you get cocky..." Ariel trembled with rage. She stared at Mingotte, gritting her teeth. "Thirty years east, thirty years west... don't you dare look down on a young—"

Knock, knock.

The sound of knocking interrupted Ariel’s dramatic declaration.

Without waiting for a response, a silver-haired figure entered the room.

"What’s going on? Didn't I say not to let anyone in without my—"

Mingotte turned his head irritably, intending to scold his subordinate guarding the door, but he froze the moment he saw the silver figure.

"Pre... President?"

"Hello, Senior Mingotte."

Celicia gave Mingotte a cold nod, then looked at Ariel. "Good afternoon, Ariel."

"Celicia? What are you doing here?" Ariel blinked, then immediately realized how unrefined she looked pounding on the desk. She stood up straight, coughed twice, and asked with concern, "School just started; isn't the Student Council work busy?"

"It's fine. Someone is helping me finish those tasks. As for why I'm here..." Celicia looked at Mingotte, her voice turning icy. "Senior Mingotte should know why, shouldn't he?"

"Uh..." Mingotte’s cheek twitched.

Looking at the woman before him, who was as cold as an iceberg, even he found it difficult to remain composed.

He knew exactly why Celicia was here. He knew she would come eventually.

But he hadn't expected her to come so soon!

The start of the term should be the Student Council's busiest time. How did she have the leisure to deal with him?

But stay calm. No need to panic.

He had anticipated this and was prepared. He had memorized the school rules; he definitely hadn't reached the point of breaking them. The News Club's ledgers were falsified; she wouldn't find anything wrong even if she looked. He had even briefed his subordinates; the apologies to the teachers were already on their way.

He just needed to keep his cool. Even if she was the Student Council President and an Imperial Princess, in this academy, she was just a fourth-year brat. As long as he didn't violate the academy's rules, what could she possibly do to him?

Thinking this, Mingotte’s nervous heart finally steadied.

Don't panic. The advantage is mine! Let's see her first move!

"It seems you already know why I'm here, so I'll be direct."

Celicia pulled a chair directly opposite Mingotte and sat down.

She crossed her legs, interlaced her fingers on her lap, and kept her waist perfectly straight. Her posture was like a meticulously programmed machine—precise and elegant.

In the suffocatingly brief silence, Celicia’s cold gaze locked onto Mingotte. She spoke:

"Mingotte Raymond. Do you—want to die?"

"What—"

In that instant, even the sixth-year Mingotte couldn't help but recoil. The pressure Celicia released was too overwhelming, and her words were far too unexpected.

In a single breath, she had completely overturned all the strategies Mingotte had spent so long preparing.

But Mingotte was not weak-willed. He quickly recovered and said angrily, "Is the President saying this as the Student Council President, or as Her Highness the Princess?"

"In what capacity? Is there any point to that question?"

Celicia’s gaze remained cold, her expression calm. It was hard to imagine that the word "die" had just come from her lips.

"What if it's as the Princess? What if it's as the Student Council President? Even if I cast aside both titles and spoke to you simply as Celicia, what of it? Does it matter? It doesn't. Because regardless of the identity, I am qualified to say this to you. I can even say it more than once—until you don't want to hear it anymore."

Celicia spoke each word slowly, as if carving them into the depths of Mingotte’s heart with blood.

"Mingotte Raymond. Do. You. Want. To. Die?"

In that moment, the girl sat bathed in the twilight.

The chill was absolute.

*

"As expected of Celicia!"

In the hallway, Ariel looked at Celicia with pure admiration, offering a sincere compliment. "Those two sentences you said were so cool! Just two sentences and that sixth-year senior was groveling and apologizing. Hmph, totally awesome!"

"It was nothing." Celicia brushed back her silver hair, indifferent. "With people like Mingotte, if you try to reason with them, they'll just talk circles around you. You have to be forceful. Besides, he was already feeling guilty, which is why he was so easily intimidated."

"But it was still so cool!" Ariel felt like she had stars in her eyes.

Oh no, Celicia is becoming even more attractive to me. What if I want to cuddle with her right now?

Speaking of which... Celicia showed up so perfectly on time. Could it be because...

Ariel touched her slightly warm cheeks, lost in a wonderful daydream.

"Ah."

Lost in thought, Ariel suddenly bumped into Celicia, who had stopped.

"What’s wrong?" Ariel rubbed her nose and followed Celicia’s gaze.

Then, she saw the person she least wanted to see.

The blond Muen was sitting under the shade of a tree not far away, holding a book whose title she couldn't make out, reading intently.

Occasionally, he would frown as if encountering a difficult problem, then take out a small notebook to jot things down. Other times, he would seemingly solve a long-standing puzzle and reveal a heart-meltingly handsome smile.

Throughout the process, he appeared incredibly focused, completely undisturbed by his surroundings. Even when people occasionally walked past, he remained deeply immersed in the world of the book.

"That guy actually reads? And so seriously?"

Ariel watched this scene, her expression one of shock—as if she were seeing a pig fly. She then curled her lip in disdain and mocked, "With his personality, it's probably just a three-minute whim."

"Ariel." Celicia pulled back her gaze, her cold eyes glancing at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ariel. "He is working hard. You shouldn't speak of him that way."

"But he's that Muen Campbell. Don't you know what kind of person he was last semester, Celicia? How could he possibly be working hard for real?" Ariel argued.

"It doesn't matter who he is, or what he was like before."

Celicia turned and continued walking. However, her footsteps seemed to have become much lighter.

As if she didn't want to disturb the youth who seemed reborn.

"Effort should never be mocked."

*

"Is it Martial Technique class today?"

Following his routine of a cold shower after a morning run and a simple breakfast at the cafeteria, Muen headed to his class.

This time, he felt much more relaxed.

Compared to a theoretical course like Magic Basic Theory, where he had zero foundation, a practical course like Martial Technique was something he could handle with ease.

After all, while he had wasted the past year, the foundation his "convenient father" had given him was not weak.

Furthermore...

"I haven't slacked off at all during this time."

Muen clenched his fist, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.

"Perfect. I also want to know what level I can reach among my peers relying solely on my qualities as a Martial Artist."

*

The Martial Technique class was not held in a classroom, but at a massive martial arts arena.

These arenas, or stages, were mostly prepared by the academy for student duels. They were always supervised by teachers and reinforced with magic formations, allowing duelists to go all out without restraint.

By the time Muen arrived, quite a few people were already there.

To Muen’s relief, since this was a "cruder" course, there were very few girls. With fewer girls, there was naturally less gossip.

But he soon took that relief back.

Because Ariel was there.

However, this time Ariel only gave him a cold glance and said nothing. Muen scratched his head and gave up on the idea of greeting her; she seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Oh, looks like everyone is here."

Class time arrived. Kade, the Martial Technique teacher who was built like a gorilla, scanned the crowd. "Same old rules. First class of the new semester: a drawing of lots for duels. Let me see if you brats slacked off on your training over the break!"

"Hooray!"

A small cheer went up among the students. These duels were the students' favorite part of the course because they could watch the show for free and slack off while others were on stage, which was far better than the tedious study of martial techniques.

"Heh, laugh while you can. If I find out you've regressed, just wait and see how I deal with you!" Kade sneered and issued a threat before bringing out the box for the draw, letting the students come forward one by one.

"Number one?"

Looking at the number in his hand, Muen was stunned.

Was his luck really this bad? He had wanted to observe the level of the other students before his own match.

"Well, whatever. It doesn't change anything. I'll just give it my all."

Muen gave a carefree smile and stepped onto the stage as Teacher Kade called his number.

Standing opposite him was a burly student whose massive pectoral muscles threatened to burst through his uniform.

"I remember you're—" Muen tried to recall; the person looked familiar.

"My name is Ryan," the burly student said.

"Ah, Classmate Ryan."

Muen remembered now. In the original host's memory, Ryan was among the top tier of the grade in terms of strength. Specifically, his powerful muscles, built through years of training, possessed strength and explosive power that even Teacher Kade frequently praised.

Not to mention, he had broken through to the Second-Tier early last semester. His current Martial Artist Realm was likely at the mid-Second-Tier.

"Seems like a tough opponent." Muen scratched his head and gave a wry smile. "Well then, please guide me, Classmate Ryan."

"Please guide me, Muen Campbell."

"Go easy on me in a bit."

Ryan paused, then nodded firmly. "I will."

*

"That guy is first?"

Watching Muen Campbell take the stage, Ariel arched an eyebrow. Then, a cold smirk appeared on her face.

"Perfect. Let me see how you get crushed."

Acting all cool reading books in front of Celicia earlier? Effort? I'll see just how 'earth-shattering' the results of your effort are.

"Bets are open, bets are open!"

Among the students behind Ariel, a boy with a monkey-like face rubbed his hands excitedly, calling out to those around him. "Muen Campbell versus Ryan! A match you can't miss! Anyone want to place a bet?"

"Are you serious, sir? You're opening a book on a match with such an obvious outcome?" a nearby student asked with a weird look.

"Exactly. That's Ryan we're talking about. Muen Campbell slacked off for the entire last year. Even if he has some foundation, he couldn't win even if Ryan fought with one hand tied behind his back."

"Be more confident. He couldn't win even if Ryan used only one hand and one leg."

"Even more confident! Two hands and two legs!"

"Two hands and two legs is going too far. Is Ryan supposed to headbutt Muen Campbell to death?"

"I think even if he only used his head, Muen wouldn't be his match, haha..."

"..."

"Relax, relax." Monkey Face looked like he had expected this and chuckled. "I know the gap in their strength is huge, but when did I say the bet was on who wins?"

"Oh? Then you mean?"

"Time! It's about time! How long can Muen Campbell last, or how long until the match ends? Five minutes or ten? Whoever is closest wins; winner takes all. Simple rules. Anyone want to play?"

"I'm in!" someone immediately agreed.

Academy life was boring; why pass up a rare chance for some fun?

"I bet a hundred Emiels on five minutes!"

"Five minutes is too conservative." Someone tossed over a fifty-Emiel note. "Three minutes."

"You say it's conservative but only bet fifty?" A young man who clearly came from a noble background looked on with disdain and waved his hand. "One thousand. I bet on one minute."

"Wow, you bastard, didn't you try to suck up to Muen Campbell before? You're being this ruthless?"

"Hehe, it's not like I succeeded. That bastard Muen only recruits upperclassmen as his lackeys."

...

Should I play too?

Watching the students betting enthusiastically, Ariel felt tempted. She could watch Muen Campbell suffer and earn some pocket money at the same time—why not?

However, since she was currently broke, Ariel was very cautious with her money. She immediately summoned her omnipotent Master in her mind.

"Master, what do you think?"

"Muen Campbell's strength? I don't know much about Martial Artists, but I can see he seems a bit different from last semester."

"Different?"

"He seems to have... advanced?" Her Master's voice sounded slightly puzzled in Ariel’s mind, but it quickly became certain. "Yes, he has advanced."

"I see. He actually advanced. Despicable Muen Campbell, I almost got tricked by you."

Ariel gritted her teeth, glaring at Muen on the stage. This guy was definitely planning to advance in secret and then shock everyone. Luckily she had her Master; otherwise, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she would have bet on one or two minutes and lost her lunch money!

"I bet on ten minutes!"

Having confirmed Muen was now a Second-Tier Martial Artist, Ariel stepped forward and grandly bet her entire lunch budget for the next week—two hundred Emiels that she had crumpled up.

She had no choice; the black market wasn't open, and she had spent all her money on materials. She was poor.

But, looking at those guys who hadn't realized Muen was hiding his strength and were betting on under two minutes, Ariel couldn't help but smirk.

Now that Muen Campbell had reached the Second-Tier, even if he still couldn't beat Ryan, he could definitely stall for about ten minutes. When that happened, she would be the winner.

"Hehe." Thinking of this, Ariel rubbed her small hands in excitement. "The days of adding a chicken leg to every meal are coming~"

*

"Gentlemen, choose your weapons."

Since it was a duel, they needed to show their true strength. Before the fight began, Kade sent them to the weapon rack to pick what they were comfortable with.

Muen naturally took his familiar Dual Daggers, while Ryan picked up a fearsome-looking, massive Horse-slaying Blade.

"Short blades?" Kade looked at the weapons in Muen’s hands with surprise. "Weren't you using a sword last semester?"

"Haha, swords don't suit me, so I switched." Muen laughed it off. He couldn't exactly say he'd learned new moves from an assassin and forgotten all the sword techniques Kade had taught him.

"Whatever. Your choice of weapon is your business." Kade didn't care much. Last semester, Muen had only been playing around with the sword anyway. If he was just going to play around regardless, why bother?

"Prepare to begin." Kade told them to warm up and stepped back, leaving them space.

"Alright." Muen stretched his body, then looked at Ryan, who was testing the weight of the Horse-slaying Blade.

"Classmate Ryan," Muen suddenly spoke up.

"Hmm?" Ryan looked over, confused.

"Those muscles of yours are really enviable. You must have trained for a very long time."

"...I've been training since I was a kid."

"I see." Muen nodded, then continued, "Actually, I didn't mean anything by it, I'm just a bit curious."

"?"

"I remember someone saying that moderate exercise attracts the opposite sex, but excessive exercise attracts the same sex. I was thinking, with muscles like yours, Ryan, could it be..." Muen leaned forward and asked with a smile, "In all your years of growing up... no girl has ever liked you, right?"

Crack.

The sound of something breaking seemed to echo.

Ryan froze. Then, the veins on his forehead bulged, and his eyes turned red instantly.

Motherfucker! A fight is a fight, why are you poking at my sore spots?

So what if no girl had ever liked him? He had his beloved dumbbells for company! Did Muen even know the joy of pumping iron every day?

Just then.

"Begin!" Teacher Kade gave the command.

Instantly, Muen lunged forward like a hunting leopard.

Shadow Step!

Muen vanished from his spot. When he reappeared, he was already in front of Ryan.

His daggers lashed out like shadows following a body.

Ryan’s eyes widened. The brief mental lag caused by his anger had cost him the initiative from the very start. Faced with Muen’s slashing daggers, he could only hurriedly raise the Horse-slaying Blade to block.

The advantage of the massive blade's size showed here; by simply holding it up, it blocked almost all of Muen’s lines of attack.

But not all of them.

Muen’s eyes flickered. He suddenly changed his move, stepping onto the wide surface of the Horse-slaying Blade.

Using the momentum to leap backward, he simultaneously threw one of his daggers, aiming straight for the face that the blade couldn't cover.

Ryan jerked his head to the side, narrowly dodging the flying dagger. But Muen kicked off the ground and charged again.

A hint of panic appeared on Ryan’s face. He knew that if he let Muen continue this storm-like assault, he would eventually lose. He had to force him back to regroup.

He sank his breath into his dantian. Fighting Spirit began to coalesce.

Martial Technique: Iron Mountain Quake!

By relying on a sudden burst of Fighting Spirit, he could blow back all surrounding enemies. It was a very useful technique when surrounded or in close-quarters combat.

The only drawback was that the Fighting Spirit needed to be gathered. It had a brief "wind-up" time.

And just a moment before that wind-up was complete, Muen charged in.

However, he didn't swing his blade. Instead, he reached out with his empty hand, his five fingers curving.

Like the sharp claws of a beast.

The next moment, a sound like rolling thunder erupted!

A massive vibration hit, and Ryan felt the blood and qi within his body churn. The Fighting Spirit that was about to finish gathering was instantly shattered and dispersed.

The move didn't cause much physical damage, but it threw Ryan into a brief state of confusion.

"Truly a top-tier interrupt skill," Muen praised softly. He walked up to Ryan as if taking a stroll in a park.

He swung a heavy punch, slamming it into Ryan’s cheek.

The match was over.

The arena fell into a dead silence.

Everyone was stunned.

It wasn't until Muen looked at him with a questioning gaze that Teacher Kade snapped out of it. Looking at the stopwatch he had instinctively stopped, he announced loudly:

"Time: ten seconds. The winner... Muen Campbell!"

The arena remained silent.

Muen didn't mind the lack of enthusiasm from the audience. He performed an elegant bow to the Ryan lying on the ground.

"Thank you for the guidance, Classmate Ryan. What I said earlier was just nonsense, so please don't take it to heart. Even if no girls like you, I believe you are a very charming man."

Muen smiled. "Isn't a life dedicated to training also a very happy one?"

Ryan: "..."

If you don't know how to talk, please just shut up.

That hurts even more, okay?

Muen turned and walked back to his spot.

"Wait."

Just then, Teacher Kade called out to him, his eyes filled with an unprecedented heat, as if he were seeing the blond youth for the first time. "That... don't you have anything to say? Any thoughts on the match?"

"Thoughts?"

Muen thought carefully about how the fight had felt and said seriously:

"I feel... this fight was much easier than I imagined."

"..."

Ryan, who had just been struggling to sit up, heard this, his vision went black, and he collapsed back onto the ground.

*

It wasn't until Muen left the stage that the atmosphere among the audience exploded.

"No way, Muen Campbell actually won?"

"Am I dreaming? Someone punch me—hiss—not a dream!"

"Ten seconds? Even a sixty-year-old geezer lasts longer than that. Is Ryan even trying?"

"One break and Muen Campbell is this strong? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Is he on drugs?"

"Wait, so who actually won the bet?"

Someone asked the question, and suddenly every eye in the crowd was fixed on Monkey Face.

Monkey Face swallowed hard, looking down at the betting records in his hand. "Since the pool was based on the match duration, it doesn't matter who won or lost. Naturally, the winner is whoever bet closest to ten seconds."

As it turned out, the winner who swept the entire pot was a random bystander who, thinking it was better to participate than just watch, had bet a single dollar on the "impossible" time of fifteen seconds.

The terrifying odds of 1:5000 became a legend at St. Maria Academy for a long time to come.

*

After Muen, it was the other students' turn to duel.

Compared to the fierce, precise, and ruthless efficiency of Muen’s fight, the other matches were much more ordinary—and far flashier.

Watching those flowery moves fly across the stage without doing a damn thing, Muen almost felt the urge to run up and shout, "Stop! Stop fighting! You're never going to kill anyone like that!"

The only one who truly surprised Muen was Ariel.

She defeated her opponent even faster, clocking in at only seven seconds.

Moreover, she seemed to be venting some sort of pent-up frustration; every strike was lethal, giving Teacher Kade quite a scare as he watched from the sidelines.

"Without even realizing it... have I become this strong?"

Muen rested his chin on his hand, watching his classmates battle with a look of quiet reflection.

When he had first transmigrated, he was so weak he couldn't do anything. He could only endure the mockery of Fate like a coward, powerless to resist.

But after more than a month of fighting and learning day and night against the records within the Black Book, he finally felt tangible progress.

He was no longer that useless young master.

He had grown stronger.

And he would only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get stronger.