"Damn… Seems like I never fit in any environment related to this class."

Carl yawned, tiredly glancing at the professor who kept babbling nonsense about dungeon techniques and knowledge. Honestly, he'd already studied all of that back when he was still in the Ryan Family. As the heir, the amount of knowledge he had to learn far outweighed all that trash.

After being tormented by the professor's absurd lecture for six straight hours, Carl finally got to leave in peace. He headed straight for the place that felt familiar — the student council office — just as he had planned after returning from that damned mission.

To be honest, he never wanted to see those long, dog-like faces again, not even those so-called "mighty dragons" of the student council.

Tsk! Still, he'd crush those faces sooner or later. Just a matter of time.

Carl spat out some saliva and took a step toward the council office door. He pushed it open, revealing the face he hated most once again.

"Greetings," Carl bared his teeth, forcing himself to keep his hatred under control. Showing his fury in front of those a vile fox like Haley was dangerous — that damned guy would exploit it in a heartbeat. Taking Carl's little sister like a example, had been proof enough of that.

Hanley was still sitting at the officer's desk, signing a few formal papers. He looked rather professional — though Carl figured he was just pretending, probably doodling women's butts and breasts instead.

"There you are. Why'd you come here? Don't tell me your mission's already done?" Hanley asked with a fake smile and a soft, mocking tone.

Carl frowned.

"You piece of trash… I'm sure you already know what happened in that damned brothel town. And now you're trying to mock me? ...however, not this time."

He gave Hanley a cold shrug and slowly walked toward the sofa opposite the one where Marsh and Alger were sitting.

"You're giving this trash too much credit, Hanley," Marsh scoffed, clearly trying to provoke him.

Carl didn't bother replying. He just sighed, picked up a cup of tea, and took a small sip.

"Your hands seem to have healed nicely. I'm sincerely sorry about those dog's leg… both meanings included."

It was obvious Carl meant more than Marsh said.

The "two meanings": one for Marsh's severed hands, like a dog's paws, and the other for his dead subordinates.

Marsh's face tensed with veins bulging, his anger flickering through, but unlike usual, he held his murderous intent in check this time.

Alger's lips twitched for a moment before curling into a seductive smile.

"Your words are still as sharp and full of hostility as ever, Heir of the Ryan Family."

Carl scoffed, not even bothering to look at Alger. Not because he hated her or anything — it was simply that he couldn't talk to her as normally as he did with others. Besides, whenever he glanced at her, by pure chance, his eyes would fall on the rift between her large breasts. It was rather embarrassing, though.

Above all, as always, he just couldn't talk to a girl — especially one as seductive as Alger.

However, Alger didn't take it that way.

She simply thought Carl was mocking her, that her words weren't even worth reaching his ears.

She began to let her hatred show toward Carl, but Hanley quickly sensed the tension and spoke up to put an end to any conflict in the room.

"Carl, you haven't given me a proper answer yet. If you can't explain those idiotic actions now, don't blame me if I use my position to punish you."

"Notice: just one chance to speak."

Hanley smiled coldly as he glanced at Carl, waiting for whatever nonsense the boy might spout — after all, Hanley already knew everything.

He knew about the collapse of the town of Brothel, and that the criminal had been captured by soldiers of the Ortega family. After all, he himself was a member of that family. The delicate trap he'd set for Carl had gone perfectly.

He had thought Carl would be smart enough to recognize his failure and not embarrass himself by coming here — but he was wrong.

"Two stupid pigs from the Ryan family… Now's my chance to kick you out of the academy."

...

Carl just sighed and lifted one corner of his lips. He could read the thoughts written all over Hanley's face.

"I failed the mission. I couldn't take the criminal's head."

Before Hanley could say the next words, Carl added to put an end to Hanley's overthinking.

"However, I've arrived here not about that. I just want a mere requirement like every ordinary student of the academy."

Silence lingered in the room for a few seconds after Carl's words.

Hanley frowned in unease as he looked at Carl's despicable face. It seemed he had already guessed what Carl would say next even before hearing it.

And, as Hanley had thought.

"I want a duel with one of the council students' mighty dragons. It's you, Marsh." Carl pointed at Marsh with clear intention.

Again, silence covered the place before Marsh could speak; then, after a moment, he turned his attention to Hanley, and said.

"Hanley, let's declare that before the academy. I want a duel that's spectacular for everyone to witness — I'll crush this weakling."

Hanley grimaced, pressed his temple, and said, "I accept your challenge, Carl… but you know this is not a joke; you cannot withdraw your challenge."

Carl scoffed. "I knew that. Hanley… let's make the duel in five days."

Hanley paused for a moment; after taking in all of Carl's words he sighed and finally smiled.

"As you wish, fighter...I hope you don't rerget.''

***

In the training yard, which was completely bare except for two guys.

"Quicker!"

…

"Harder!"

"Harder still!"

Carl sighed, then delivered a kick to Earth's abdomen, making him collapse and clutch his stomach in pain.

Carl looked at Earth and triggered his skill.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[Age]: 16

[Class]: Mysterious

[Rank]: F

[Soul Rank]: ★★★★

Skill: Aura of Suppression: Rank C / Concealment Rank: F / Swordsmanship: Rank F

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"It's a big problem, Earth. You have the potential, but there's something wrong with you. It's hard to say since I'm not a teacher or anything."

Carl rubbed his chin while assessing.

"As if you weren't born to be a swordsman… I mean, you might suit something else. Maybe an assassin?"

Earth managed to stand and said, "No! I don't want to be an assassin."

Carl scratched his head in confusion. "Why?"

Earth answered without thinking, "Because swordsmen are very cool…I don't want to hide in the shadows or sneak attack like a coward…I want to taste the enemy's blood in a face-to-face fight."

Carl's expression twitched at Earth's answer. "I'm the opposite."

Indeed, attacking enemies sneakily was a hobby for Carl—especially stabbing them in the back. If he had an ability like that, he could clear every dungeon in the world without effort.

No, honestly, Carl was a lazy guy. And whenever he could, he always chose the quickest way to kill an enemy. He didn't want to waste the time and effort to enjoy a match like an actual fighter.

Time wasn't on his side. He was already eighteen, yet only at Rank E, while most of his peers were probably Rank C or D. Because of that, he needed to rank up as fast as possible.

Still, a hobby was just a hobby. He had no right to change Earth's mind.

"It's up to you. My job is to train you as best as I can."

Earth lunged forward and swung his sword at Carl. His movements were clumsy and slow.

"But… you truly don't have the talent for swordsmanship." Carl uttered. '' Maybe, I should give some advice…sometime, your hobby couldn't save your life.''

Carl sighed, then casually used his dragon-scaled fingers to deflect Earth's strike and flicked the tilt of his sword against Earth's mouth.

"Oh, sorry—just a habit."

Carl scratched his head, showing a bit of regret.

"I'm okay. Let's continue," Earth said, holding his mouth for a few seconds before standing again. But then, he suddenly asked,

"So… you really intend to duel with Marsh?"

Carl sighed and nodded.

"Can you win?" Earth asked.

Carl shook his head and sat down to rest.

"Zero chance… at least if it is now or tomorrow."

To his surprise, Earth looked at Carl with shining eyes and said,

"So that's why you delayed the duel by five days! You're going to train like crazy to beat him!"

Carl clicked his tongue and smiled.

"Half right… More precisely, there's a Rank-E dungeon tomorrow."

"I'll enter that dungeon—and once I clear it, the victory will be mine."

All went according to Carl's plan. He needed to strengthen his dragon soul before the duel began — it was the bare minimum if he wanted to have any chance of defeating Marsh.

Just like that, a day passed, and the time for the Rank E students to enter the dungeon arrived. It was one of the academy's regular operations, where all students had to participate—not only to boost their strength, but also to clear dungeons that could one day break and threaten the world.

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