Hell pushed open the door to the Year Two, Class C classroom.
There was still some time before the official start of lessons, and many students had already arrived. They gathered in groups of three or five, sitting around desks or leaning by the windows, heatedly discussing last night’s Virtual Competitive Event or gossiping about a certain professor. The sounds of youthful laughter and debates filled the entire room.
However, the moment Hell’s figure appeared at the door and his face came clearly into the view of everyone inside, it was as if an invisible hand had suddenly seized everyone by the throat.
The noisy conversations, the giggles, and the discussions all stopped abruptly.
The once-lively classroom instantly fell into a bizarre, pin-drop silence.
Every gaze, whether obvious or subtle, focused on the figure who had just stepped into the room. In those eyes, there was blatant exclusion, deep wariness, pure curiosity, and indifferent apathy. Without exception, every look carried a sense of unspoken alienation.
The air seemed to freeze for several seconds.
Hell had long since grown accustomed to this; he was practically numb to it. No expression changed on his face. His eyes, marked by weariness and dark circles, calmly swept across the suddenly silent classroom as if looking over a pile of insignificant, dead objects. He ignored the stares fixed upon him and the invisible pressure brought by the sudden silence.
He set off, walking straight down the center aisle of the classroom.
Hell’s seat was in the back row, in the corner closest to the window.
It was a classic, symbolic position—the kind where the protagonist usually sat in anime or novels.
But now, it seemed this seat did not always belong to a protagonist; it could also belong to a villain.
Hell reached his seat and casually shrugged the bag off his shoulder, dropping it onto the desk with a light *thud*. Then, he pulled out his chair and sat down, leaning his back against the frame. He turned his head to look out the window at the blue sky and the distant High Tower of the Academy. His eyes glazed over as if he had fallen into deep thought, or perhaps he was simply… spacing out.
The silence in the classroom did not last long.
Shortly after Hell sat down, light and energetic footsteps approached from the direction of the back door. Along with the crisp, sweet voice of a young girl that carried the scent of sunshine, the atmosphere that had frozen due to Hell’s appearance began to melt away like ice dropped into a warm current.
“Good morning, everyone!”
A figure skipped lightly through the back door.
It was a young girl with long, pale pink hair. The color was soft and bright, like cherry blossoms in early bloom, tied neatly into a high ponytail. The ponytail was exceptionally long, its tip nearly reaching her waist, swinging nimbly behind her with every light step and tracing graceful arcs in the air.
The girl carried a simple yet high-quality bag over her shoulder. A brilliant smile radiated from her face, acting like a built-in light source that instantly brightened the somewhat gloomy classroom. As she walked in, she waved cheerfully to every student within her sight. Her pale gold eyes curved into beautiful crescents, and her voice was clear and full of vitality.
Upon seeing the girl, the students’ faces simultaneously broke into relaxed, friendly, and even somewhat admiring or affectionate smiles. The oppressive, deathly atmosphere that had followed Hell’s entrance was swept away instantly, as if it had never existed.
In a flash, the classroom regained its bustling liveliness, becoming even more active than before. Everyone vied to respond to the pink-haired girl’s greeting.
“Good morning, Luna!”
Like a star surrounded by moons, or like sunlight dispersing the haze, the girl’s appearance made the air in the entire classroom feel vibrant and warm.
Luna Florea.
A student of Year Two, Class C, the same as Hell. She was a highly popular beauty in the Academy—excellent grades, a cheerful personality, and a sincere, kind nature. Almost no one disliked her.
At the same time, she held another top-secret identity—
The Goddess Angel, the Adaptor of the Annihilation Angel, Artemis.
In stark contrast to Hell, who sat in the corner—gloomy, reclusive, and seemingly surrounded by an aura of “keep away” and notoriety—Luna Florea was undoubtedly the “treasure” of the entire Year Two, Class C.
She was like a little sun all day long, brimming with energy and vitality. A bright and sincere smile was always plastered on her face, a smile that seemed to possess a magical infectiousness capable of easily dispelling the clouds in one’s heart. Moreover, she was always happy to help others. Whether it was a difficult academic problem or a minor friction between classmates, she was willing to lend a hand and resolve it in her uniquely warm way.
The girl’s personality was bright and generous without being overly flashy. She was sincere and considerate, getting along harmoniously with almost every student in the class. It was said that even the most introverted and gloomy people in class found it difficult to remain indifferent in the face of her proactive, kind words and smiles.
Luna was like a beam of light—dazzling but not piercing. She effortlessly illuminated her surroundings, making her the undisputed center of the class. Her popularity was astonishing, placing her at the opposite extreme of Hell.
The pink-haired girl continued her pleasant small talk with her classmates as she walked briskly through the room toward her seat.
Her seat…
Was right next to Hell’s.
To be precise, they were in the same row, separated only by an aisle that wasn’t particularly wide. Her desk was almost parallel to Hell’s, with only about 1 meter of space between them.
This meant that if either of them turned their head even slightly, they could easily see the other. They could even hear the subtle sound of the other turning a page.
Hell, who had been staring out the window, shifted his gaze slightly. He didn’t turn his head completely, instead using his peripheral vision to quietly observe his neighbor as she sat down and began taking textbooks and stationery out of her bag.
Luna’s looks were, of course, beyond reproach—she was the definition of extreme beauty. Her long, pale pink hair was smooth and glossy, and the high ponytail added to her vibrancy. Her skin was fair and delicate, looking as though it might break at a touch. Her features were as exquisite as an artwork meticulously carved by a master; every line was just right. Combined, they possessed both a youthful sweetness and a faint hint of the striking, bright elegance she would surely possess as she matured.
As an Angel chosen by the Goddess, this girl had clearly been granted the highest level of “special treatment” by the world in terms of her design. She was flawless, enough to make anyone who saw her feel a flutter in their heart.
On the left was Hell—gloomy, reclusive, and burdened with the reputation of a “scumbag.” On the right was Luna—sunny, cheerful, and hailed as an “Angel.”
The narrow aisle between them was like a divide between heaven and hell.
Hell’s gaze lingered on Luna for a moment. He watched her organize her books without any sign of anything being amiss, chatting and laughing in a low voice with the students in the row ahead. Her face still wore that energetic, brilliant smile, as if she didn’t have a single worry in the world.
Yesterday, he had gone through a great deal of trouble—even risking immense danger—to personally take down the Adjudicator T and his subordinates. He had meticulously designed a “hero saves the beauty” scenario to pull Luna out of a dire situation. Afterward, in that Abandoned Warehouse, he had engaged in a seemingly casual but highly manipulative conversation, pointing out her combat flaws and showing a degree of “goodwill” before finally letting her go.
All of this was to lay the groundwork for his future PUA Plan, planting a seed of doubt, curiosity, and perhaps even a “special impression” in her heart.
However, seeing Luna like this now, it was as if yesterday’s soul-stirring, world-shaking experience had no effect on her at all. She was still the sunny, carefree beauty at the center of the class. The way she greeted and laughed with her classmates was no different from any other day.
‘Is it because the effect of my setup was too poor?’
‘Or is this “heroine’s” mental fortitude far greater than I imagined?’
‘Or… is she just pretending?’
Luna settled into her seat and lowered her head to take thick magic theory and combat technique textbooks out of her bag, stacking them neatly at the corner of her desk. She seemed to feel the gaze coming from the side; her movements paused slightly as she looked up. Her pale gold eyes, filled with clarity, naturally looked toward the silent figure across the aisle.
When she discovered that Hell was indeed looking at her, Luna’s trademark energetic smile bloomed instantly, without the slightest hesitation or delay. She took the initiative to greet Hell with the same crisp, pleasant, and kind voice she used for everyone else.
“Morning, Hell!”
The girl’s smile was sincere and frank, as if she completely ignored the cold stares and nasty rumors surrounding him.
Luna’s behavior naturally caused a ripple of silent admiration among the surrounding students.
“Look, Luna is greeting Hell again…”
“As expected of Luna, she’s so kind to everyone.”
“She even greets someone like Hell… Luna really is an angel.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t treat people differently just because of rumors. She’s so sweet.”
Comments like these, though whispered, still drifted clearly through the air.
Faced with the smile and greeting Luna proactively offered, Hell’s expression did not change. He merely tilted his head slightly, his eyes calmly meeting hers, and gave a faint response in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Morning.”
Immediately after, as if completing a social obligation he was forced to perform, Hell quickly looked away.
In this entire class, Luna was indeed the only one who would proactively and naturally greet him.
According to the plot of the original novel, the reason the original “Hell” fell hopelessly in love with Luna was precisely because of this “sweet” attitude she had toward everyone.
When everyone else distanced themselves from him, excluded him, or even loathed him because of his past reputation and reclusive personality, only Luna would still smile at him, greet him, and occasionally even show concern for his pale complexion, treating him like any other ordinary student.
This equal treatment and kindness, which seemed exceptionally precious in the darkness, was like a ray of sunlight shining into a gutter. It gave the twisted and lonely “Hell” of the original work an unprecedented sense of warmth and touch, which eventually evolved into a paranoid and distorted obsession, ultimately leading to tragedy.
The corner of Hell’s mouth twitched imperceptibly, letting out a soft hum that only he could hear.
‘Boring.’
To fall for someone just because of a bit of insignificant “kindness”? The “Hell” of the original work was ruined by so-called emotions.
But he was different. He didn’t have those emotions. He wasn’t the fool who would be misled by so-called “kindness.”
Hell’s goal was clear and precise. He would conquer this world, prove himself, and show that the “villain” written by the Author wasn’t some irredeemable piece of trash.
And then… he would stand before that so-called “Author” and tell them:
‘If you’re trash, practice more. If you can’t take it, don’t play.’