"Wait... she?!"

  Matthew Tan was left utterly stunned upon seeing Xanthia for the first time.

  The reason was simple: for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he thought he was looking at Susan La Papadopoulos- the girl who had haunted his dreams, the embodiment of his ideal, his most elusive and cherished angel.

  His first thought was, How could Thessaloniki First High have another Susan?

  But the illusion soon dissolved. Xanthia wasn’t her.

  First, the hairstyle didn’t match. Susan had long, jet-bck hair, the cssic "bck straight" style, reminiscent of a certain iconic anime character, with hair cascading like a midnight waterfall.

  Secondly, their demeanors were worlds apart. Susan was always reserved, rarely cracking a smile. She had an air about her that warned others to keep their distance, a regal elegance woven into her very essence akin to a bonafide princess.

  The girl before him, however, seemed to love to smile, her whole demeanor warm and inviting, devoid of the untouchable aura of an heiress.

  And then there was her build. Susan’s figure was neither voluptuous nor too slender; she was banced and graceful, the picture of good health.

  In contrast, Xanthia was almost unnervingly thin, as if she'd suffered years of neglect, evoking the frailness of a wildflower that had barely survived. If Susan was like a finely cultivated rose, Xanthia was more akin to a scrappy weed that had fought its way through the cracks.

  One couldn’t really bme her. Susan had an excellent mother, Maria La Papadopoulos, who’d invested her heart and soul into raising her daughter. Xanthia, motherless from an early age, had never had the privilege of such care.

  Even in small details, the differences persisted. Although both sisters shared fair skin, Xanthia’s tone was cold and icy, whereas Susan’s was warmer.

  It’s worth noting that cool-toned skin tends to appear paler, with a slight pinkish or purplish undertone, while warm-toned skin leans towards richer, golden hues. Warm-toned skin brings a soft, inviting warmth; cool-toned skin radiates a frosty, almost aloof chill.

  Ironically, their personalities seemed better suited to an inverse color scheme. If Xanthia had warmer-toned skin, her sunny disposition would seem even more approachable, while cool-toned skin would have complemented Susan’s colder temperament.

  In an alternate world where Xanthia could be shaped into the "perfect version" of herself, she might one day be able to portray the high-and-mighty heiress better than Susan herself.

  The reborn, unassuming Xanthia, the one Matthew knew, might one day blossom into such a beauty that Susan would pale in comparison. The idea was hard to believe now, though- this scrawny high school girl, still growing into herself, hardly seemed a match for the sophisticated Susan.

  Yet, in his heart, which beat with reverence for his unattainable "angel," Matthew couldn’t deny one thing: this "imposter" outdid the real thing in her icy complexion. It irked him to no end.

  Aside from the difference in complexion, there was another minor but notable detail. Susan had a beauty mark beneath the corner of her left eye- a small, alluring tear mole. She also didn’t have dimples. Not that it mattered, since she rarely smiled anyway.

  But Xanthia’s face? It was nothing short of perfection, like polished diamond, fwless and clear. And when she smiled, the dimples blossomed, accentuating her neatly aligned, snow-white teeth, making her look utterly captivating. Her joyful smile was so infectious that it was impossible to resist.

  This transformation, however, was not a result of her own doing. Her once-reclusive self had harbored severe social anxiety, and it took the intrusion of a carefree soul to bring out this side of her.

  When Matthew realized that Xanthia wasn’t Susan, the excitement that had sparked in his chest quickly extinguished.

  And, for reasons he couldn’t quite expin, he suddenly found her presence increasingly irksome. Every time this "knock-off" moved or smiled in a way that contradicted the lofty air of Susan, it felt, to him, like an insult to his precious "original."

  Such a thought was odd, he admitted. But then again, Matthew himself was an eccentric, obsessed with pying the part of a CEO, so this strange reasoning suited him well enough.

  There was no way he’d allow a mere "substitute" to take the pce of his angel. In his eyes, Xanthia wasn’t even remotely worthy of the comparison.

  In truth, Xanthia’s personality and aura were entirely wrong for Matthew’s tastes. He was captivated by the icy, aloof kind of beauty- the untouchable "ice queen."

  When he gnced over at Xanthia’s deskmate, Elena La Loannou, his eyes lit up.

  This girl, he thought, is truly the most beautiful one in Css 3. She was no match for Susan in sheer looks, but her demeanor- that hit the mark.

  If he needed a stand-in, Elena would be his ideal choice.

  His pn was clear: he’d conquer his first target, Hera, then move on to "Elite Monster" Elena. And by the time his level was high enough, he would surely be able to cim the ultimate "Boss," Susan!

  As for Xanthia? She was, at best, a "trash mob"- only there to mislead him at first gnce.

  Besides, Matthew knew Xanthia couldn’t possibly be part of the prominent Papadopoulos familia. After all, he’d pledged loyalty to his big brother, Youssef, who had shared with him the names of the Papadopoulos familia’s third-generation elite: Youssef, Eduardo, Samson, Susan, and Dionysius.

  Eduardo was Youssef’s younger brother, and Samson was Susan’s elder sibling. The first two were sons of Andreas El Papadopoulos, while the tter pair were born to Maria La Papadopoulos.

  As for Dionysius, the youngest of the Papadopoulos familia’s third generation of heirs, he had already carved out a name for himself, enough so that even his formidable grandfather, Nikos, took notice.

  Xanthia, on the other hand, was but a shadow- her existence so easily forgotten that Youssef never once mentioned her before Matthew. Naturally, this led Matthew to conclude that this Xanthia was certainly not from the Papadopoulos familia. Her faint resembnce to Susan could only be chalked up to mere coincidence.

  Now, Thessaloniki Foreign Language High School didn’t enforce uniforms as rigorously as other schools. Outside of fg-raising ceremonies, students wore whatever they liked. Matthew fondly remembered how his elder schoolmate, Susan, who was a year ahead, dressed with immacute taste. Nothing like Xanthia, in her unfashionable blue-and-white athletic uniform- a style for mere commoners.

  Moments before, he had felt ridiculous for even entertaining the thought that another Susan could exist in his own school. Reflecting now, he wondered if he had allowed his infatuation with Susan, his angel, to cloud his judgment and fuel that absurd delusion.

  At this point, Matthew overheard Hera spit out Xanthia’s name with a note of disdain. He answered with a cocky grin, "That girl’s name is Xanthia, is it? Don’t worry. I’ll handle her for you. Let’s see who dares to take her side against me!"

  A 'nobody,' as far as Matthew was concerned. If he didn’t fear Dionysius himself, why would he hesitate over some insignificant Xanthia?

  Hera gazed up at him, her eyes brimming with admiration. "Matt, you’re so assertive, so manly! I’m completely mesmerized by you!"

  Of course, her words were far from heartfelt. But if fttery was what it took to turn Matthew into her pawn, Hera would ftter him all day.

  Matthew chuckled, then asked casually, "What’s the name of Xanthia’s seatmate, anyway?"

  A flicker of irritation crossed Hera’s face as she silently cursed Matthew’s quick change of heart. How could he shift his interest so rapidly?

  "Her name is Elena La Loannou," Hera said with forced patience. "Don’t be fooled by her sweet facade. She’s as sly as they come. I’d advice you not to get mixed up with her."

  In truth, Hera knew little about Elena but had heard from a certain sycophant in her dorm, Chica, that Elena wasn’t all she appeared to be. While Chica was discreet enough to attribute the gossip to another girl in their dorm, she passed the hearsay along to please Hera.

  Matthew shrugged dismissively, a cocky grin on his face. "Schemes are worthless against true strength. My domineering approach always wins the day- no girl can resist it!"

  "Matt," Hera said, now visibly annoyed, "weren’t you set on pursuing me? And here you are already changing your mind."

  He ughed off her compint. "Don’t get me wrong! I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just new to the css and need to get a sense of who’s who."

  Yet in truth, Matthew felt contempt for Hera’s audacity. Who did she think she was, ciming to be the most beautiful girl in css? That had misled him! She was, in his eyes, just a "small fry." How could she compare to Elena, who was more like an elite beauty?

  Indeed, Matthew found Elena, with her cool and delicate charm, to be the most beautiful girl in Css 3- worthy, at least, as a temporary substitute for his unreachable angel, Susan.

  Even after catching a glimpse of Luciel La Labrador, the css belle, in all her radiant beauty, Matthew remained unmoved. Firstly, her complexion didn’t match his ideal; secondly, she cked the icy aura he adored in his ideal woman. In the end, she couldn’t hold a candle to his fwless angel, Susan.

  Luciel, well-loved among her cssmates, possessed a warmth and open-heartedness that made her the perfect css president in the eyes of many. Yet her vibrant, big-sisterly nature was worlds away from Susan’s, and for Matthew, that meant she held no allure.

  In the first few days of transferring to Css 3, Matthew avoided causing trouble. He bided his time, cautiously assessing if any hidden forces lurked in the css. His past failures at the Foreign Language High School had instilled a lingering sense of wariness.

  After a few days, however, Matthew decided he’d overthought things. Css 3 harbored no hidden powerhouses, no one as resplendent as Susan, the school’s ideal. In his eyes, only Marcus- a tall, intimidating fellow with ties to Dionysius- posed any sort of threat.

  While Matthew had no fear of Dionysius, he wasn’t reckless enough to seek conflict with him either. And since Marcus was associated with Dionysius, it made sense to stay on his good side.

  Not only was Marcus intimidating, but he also had a small entourage of fellow problem kids. Though Matthew wasn’t easily scared, he recognized that his side was outmatched in sheer numbers, with only his seatmate Troy serving as a follower thus far.

  To manage this potential threat, Matthew extended a hand to Marcus over the next few days. He invoked the name of Youssef- his supposed "big brother"- and implied a close connection with Dionysius.

  Marcus, who was quite adept at brawling, proved easy to manipute, and Matthew, wielding the power of wealth, knew just how to buy the loyalty of his audience. Though they weren’t poor, Marcus and his friends couldn’t deny the allure of favors from a wealthy third-generation heir like Matthew. They had expected him to challenge them head-on but were instead pleasantly surprised to see a well-mannered, if domineering, approach.

  The underlying reason, of course, was that Matthew saw strategic value in this group. Though he wouldn’t dare steal Dionysius’s followers outright, he wanted them, at the very least, not to interfere.

  Having secured their goodwill, Matthew felt he was finally prepared to act. Confident he’d thoroughly grasped the dynamics of Css 3, he was ready to let loose.

  On Thursday, he decided to start by "conquering" Hera, helping her deal with the "knock-off" Xanthia in the process.

  "After self-study tonight, I’ll wait for Xanthia to step outside the gates, then give her a taste of my power. I’ll scare her into submission- she’ll come crawling to you on her knees, begging for forgiveness!" Matthew decred confidently.

  Hera’s eyes gleamed with conspiratorial excitement. "Excellent, excellent! If you pull this off, I’ll accept your pursuit!"

  Though Matthew had only been in Css 3 for four days, his retionship with Hera had progressed rapidly, their personalities aligning all too well.

  Matthew ughed, satisfied. "It’s not enough to win your favor; you’ll have to agree not to mind if I pursue other girls, too!"

  A third-generation heir like him was hardly expected to limit himself to one girlfriend. A real heir courted multiple women at once, not just one.

  Hera bit her lip but forced a smile. "I’m a generous woman. So long as I’m your rightful partner, I don’t mind if you seek other girls."

  "Now that’s css!" Matthew praised. "You rich girls understand our world’s rules. Those small-time girls never have the sense. That’s why they’ll never capture the attention of a real heir."

  His words struck a chord with Hera, soothing her ego. She knew she was in a different league from ordinary girls. And, of course, being Matthew’s "queen" was merely her pying along. Her true target was Dionysius.

  But for now, it was only dating, not marriage. Since Matthew was so capable and willing to stand up for her, she would use him as her pawn. This was a most useful piece in her game.

  "Very well, then. I’ll be waiting for good news tomorrow. Let’s see how you handle Xanthia."

  A sinister smile spread across her face as she savored the prospect of revenge. Yet neither of them realized that their plotting was all but transparent to Xanthia.

  That very morning, Xanthia had slipped a sack into her schoolbag, along with a "baseball bat" from her system shop.

  She’d also prepared the cssic "Assault Technique" skill, one designed to harvest pain points. With it, she could adjust her strength to maximize the target’s suffering without inflicting serious injury.

  In truth, Xanthia’s main objective with Matthew was to test her "Blinding Pendant." Having possessed it for so long without using it, she had been waiting for the perfect test subject.

  Fortunately, a tool-man like Matthew finally stepped forward with enough bravado, while Hera, as ever, offered timely support with yet another assist at a crucial moment…

  Naturally, Matthew hadn’t pnned to intimidate Xanthia while still on school grounds. True, she was just a nondescript weed, but the problem y with her good friend, Luciel.

  Though Matthew wasn’t particurly worried about offending Luciel, her popurity was undeniable- especially among the girls. And Matthew was nothing if not keen on his reputation with the female popution. He had no intention of tarnishing his upcoming conquest strategy over a mere triviality.

  Yes, indeed! In Matthew’s eyes, Xanthia was a mere small fry, an obstacle barely worth his attention. His real target was Elena. Now she had the qualifications to act as a stand-in for his angel, Susan!

  And Matthew had already devised the perfect pn to win Elena over, knowing that her most despised figure was none other than the "campus urban legend" himself- Dematero, public enemy of the girls’ collective.

  The target was fwless. Matthew could already picture the admiring gazes he’d earn after he stood up for Elena and the other girls by giving Dematero a proper thrashing…

  At this moment, during Thursday’s night self-study session, Matthew wore a smug smile, feeling that his reign over Css Three was almost at hand!

  As the bell rang to end the second session of the night, Xanthia, who usually left with nothing in hand, had her schoolbag with her tonight. Yet no one seemed to notice this deviation from her routine.

  Without so much as a backward gnce, Xanthia began her walk off campus into the dim evening. The sky was now dark, with shadows pooling in the corners of the path.

  Not long after she left the cssroom, Matthew quietly followed. What he was about to do had already pyed out countless times in his mind.

  All he needed was for Xanthia to exit the school gates and put some distance between herself and the gatehouse. Then he’d strike, creeping up behind her, wrapping his arm around her neck, and muffling her scream before dragging her into a nearby alley…

  The pn, of course, was to deliver a menacing threat. He imagined a timid girl like Xanthia would be terrified out of her wits, crumbling in fear and making her easy to control!

  Eyes gleaming with malice, Matthew fixated on Xanthia’s silhouette. Her choice of clothing irked him endlessly: cheap, shabby outfits that hurt his eyes. Was she really so poor she had to walk around in knock-offs? It was disgraceful!

  It sickened him that someone with her "bargain-bin" sense of style should even dare walk the same ground as his angel, the pure and elegant Susan. Whether intentional or not, her existence was a bsphemy against his vision of perfection.

  And now, using her to ingratiate himself with Hera was merely a bonus. Xanthia, the small fry- today is the day of your reckoning. Not even Jesus could save you now.

  Closer, closer… finally, they were beyond the school gates. Matthew’s heart pounded with anticipation of the imminent rush. Only someone of his calibre, a scion of wealth and power, could pull off something like this without fearing consequences. After all, what was there to fear when money could smooth everything over? Most of the time, families like Xanthia’s wouldn’t even bother to raise a fuss, knowing they couldn’t stand up to a chaebol.

  Matthew resolved that, once he’d secured his grip over her, he’d start with a scathing critique of her attire. The poor fashion sense had assaulted his eyes long enough! Then, he’d intimidate her thoroughly, enough to bring her to her knees before Hera. Ah, a perfect pn!

  But fate had other ideas.

  Just as he confirmed no one was around and prepared to act, his vision abruptly went dark- entirely, terrifyingly bck!

  Before he could make sense of it, something was shoved into his mouth- a cloth- and his head was forced into a sack!

  Xanthia, who had been wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, performed this series of moves fwlessly. Every step had been carefully rehearsed, and she’d ensured that there were no surveilnce cameras in the vicinity.

  The sheer exhiration of predicting an opponent’s moves and turning the tables on them- how could the average person comprehend such a thrill?

  Surprised, Matthew’s only thought was, "I’ve been outpyed."

  Xanthia pulled out her baseball bat, activated her "Assault Technique" skill, and delivered a solid blow to her target’s body before dragging him into a nearby secluded alley.

  How blind and foolish he was, never realizing that Xanthia had been intentionally leading him toward a deserted area from the moment she stepped off campus. He had thought, "The heavens favor me!"

  Little did he know, the "small fry" he so easily dismissed was far from weak and docile.

  Throughout the entire ordeal, Xanthia remained calm, as if immersed in a live-action game of GTA5. It was simply a matter of avoiding detection, and the authorities would never get involved.

  For his part, Matthew had no idea it was Xanthia executing this brutal turnabout. She’d deployed her "Blinding Pendant," which blinded him the moment he attempted to make a move. All he had seen was Xanthia’s back as she continued walking, apparently oblivious to any tail.

  His first thought was that he’d fallen victim to Susan’s admirers, scheming to drive him out of Thessaloniki Foreign Language High School!

  Then he considered another possibility- that it might be robbers. If the figure wanted money, he could determine if this was some opposing faction’s plot.

  The only idea he dismissed out of hand was that he could have fallen prey to Xanthia.

  Ridiculous! This meek, shy, impoverished girl wouldn’t possibly have such boldness.

  Besides, hadn’t he and Hera discussed this pn with utmost secrecy? They were both day students, and no one overheard their conversation.

  Simple, discreet, and effective- Matthew thought this scheme was fwless. More eborate conspiracies were often doomed to fail over the smallest misstep.

  Under the moonlit sky, Xanthia’s pale, delicate face glowed with a frenzied grin as she swung her baseball bat. It made repeated, forceful contact with Matthew’s most resilient region, his backside. Muffled by the cloth in his mouth, he couldn’t even scream.

  This proactive unraveling of her opponent’s schemes and the successful execution of her own earned Xanthia a bounty of "happy points," while her defeated adversary, Matthew, dropped coins of "pain points."

  In fact, physical pain like this yielded even more points than mental distress- what a windfall!

  For Matthew, who’d lived a life of luxury and privilege, this level of torture was unimaginable. The skillful execution of Xanthia’s blows left him trembling, despairing…

  His eyes filled with tears, and he longed to beg for mercy but couldn’t utter a sound. Worse yet, he found himself humiliated, beaten to the point of losing control over his bodily functions. He couldn’t believe the brutality!

  Bound within the sack, he sensed that his assaint had the precision of an ancient executioner, delivering pain without risking fatality.

  Xanthia, as it happened, was highly strategic. Pain-producing tools, to her, were renewable resources to be harvested continuously; wasting a resource with a single blow would be a pity.

  This trial run proved successful. Xanthia found the "Notebook" worked splendidly with the "Blinding Pendant" to create a deadly combo.

  The "Blinding Pendant" didn’t require her to face the opponent directly; it emitted a "blinding wave" over an area. Once they were blinded, she could exploit their disorientation for pain points.

  And if she had an invisibility cloak? That would complete the transformation into an invisible hand of vengeance...

  After reaping her fill of pain points, Xanthia used her "Nightmare Phone" to call the police before slipping away.

  The "Nightmare Phone" could perfectly simute a payphone and alter her voice, embodying the ultimate "behind-the-scenes vilin."

  It wasn’t long before the police arrived and freed Matthew. When they removed the sack, the rescuers recoiled with revulsion. Beaten to the point of filth, he reeked beyond description.

  Tears streaked down Matthew’s face. He was certain now that this was the work of Susan’s ardent followers. Their cruelty knew no bounds!

  But did they think this would break him?

  No, it would not. His love for Susan would see him through. He would not falter- he was a warrior for love, not a coward.

  Ironically, he didn’t even need medical attention. His assaint had delivered each blow with such expertise that hospitalization was unnecessary…

  "Ha! You thought you could simply hire some professional thugs, did you? Very well! This grudge, I, Matthew, shall remember it. Once my big brother Youssef returns from abroad, mark my words, I will have my revenge, all in good time!"

  At this moment, Matthew could only clench his teeth in silent fury. The problem y primarily with those admirers of Susan, some of whom held higher status than he did. The thought of exacting vengeance seemed an insurmountable challenge; thus, he could only pin his hopes on leveraging Youssef’s influence to turn the tide.

  Though a visit to the hospital was unnecessary, Matthew did not attend school the following day. The humiliation of being bundled into a sack and beaten- his dignity trampled- had left him with a significant psychological scar.

  Meanwhile, Hera was in quite the buoyant mood. She deliberately made several trips to the water cooler in the northeast corner, all the while keenly observing Xanthia’s reactions.

  In her mind, the scheme she had concocted with Matthew was surely a success!

  It made sense, after all; their plot had unfolded off-campus. This ensured that Xanthia would be without her ever-watchful guardian, Luciel, as well as the protector, Dematero, who might have intervened at a critical moment.

  To add to the cssic drama of it all, Matthew had made his move after evening csses- a night fitting for a stealthy operation, where heroes do not swoop in to save the day.

  Hera firmly believed that success was all but guaranteed. If Xanthia could thwart her scheme under these circumstances, it would shatter her confidence, far more than the st incident concerning the moral bind of long-distance running.

  What she did not realize was that Xanthia possessed a far darker cunning than she could fathom. If Xanthia so wished, she could easily dispose of the troublesome instigator, leaving Hera floundering in her wake. But Xanthia chose to toy with her instead.

  Indeed, Matthew had been unwittingly hooked through Hera’s assistance, effectively becoming Xanthia’s test tool to execute a fwless counterattack, thanks to Hera’s unwitting support.

  Hera’s repeated trips to the water cooler soon caught Luciel’s attention.

  As for her former deskmate, Luciel harbored a notably poor impression of Hera.

  Luciel had always worried that Hera might cause trouble for Xanthia, but the absence of any overt action over time had led her to lower her guard.

  Ultimately, she had not connected the dots back to Hera regarding the earlier incident orchestrated by Kenny.

  Unable to contain her curiosity, Luciel confronted Hera, "What on earth are you up to? You keep flitting back and forth to the water cooler, eyeing Xanthia suspiciously. Are you plotting something?"

  Caught off guard by Luciel’s direct inquiry, Hera felt a twinge of panic; she found herself somewhat intimidated by Luciel’s commanding presence.

  Nevertheless, she managed to retort, "What’s wrong with me getting water? And why shouldn’t I admire Xanthia? She’s quite adorable; I can’t help but look. Are you jealous or something?"

  With an arched eyebrow and a cool smile, Luciel shot back, "You’ve been getting awfully chummy with the new transfer student tely. Shouldn’t you be back at your desk flirting with him instead of hanging around here spouting nonsense?"

  A smirk spread across Hera’s face as she replied, "What’s the matter? Are you envious of Matthew’s status? He’s a bona fide third-generation tycoon- far above your league. Only I can get close to him, and that highlights the real gap between us!"

  Luciel sighed dramatically, "His background is of no concern to me. But your sneaky behavior is quite revolting- now be a good girl and return to your seat!"

  Within the cssroom, Luciel’s harshness was reserved solely for Hera, a girl she had never quite warmed to.

  Meanwhile, Xanthia had been observing the interpy between Luciel and Hera with an amused expression, fully aware of the underlying currents.

  Turning to Hera, she fshed a pyful smile, "Thank you for saying I’m adorable, Hera… Since I’m so cute, wouldn’t you like to say a few more kind words? Kneeling while you do so would be splendid!"

  Her tone was filled with pyful mockery, leaving others to view her as merely a jester seeking amusement, uttering ludicrous requests like begging for compliments.

  Hera had been holding her own against Luciel with newfound bravado, buoyed by the perceived backing of Matthew. Yet, upon witnessing Xanthia’s knowing smile and her seemingly jesting words, a chill ran down her spine. Did Xanthia somehow uncover her scheme?

  No, that was impossible! She had kept her intentions hidden well, with only the initial hints revealed to Luciel.

  Hera had been patient, biding her time until even Luciel believed she had abandoned her vendetta against Xanthia.

  Thus, she resolved that Xanthia’s recent remarks were mere coincidence!

  Yet, an unshakable sense of unease settled in her gut. Something told her that Xanthia was cloaked in an aura of genuine menace.

  Not daring to respond, Hera beat a hasty retreat, her spirit defted and sighed as she returned to her seat- acknowledging Matthew's failure knowing his foolishness.