Xanthia chose not to dwell on her encounter with Dionysios, nor did she worry about the small gain of “pain points.”

  In her mind, the value of “happy points” for self-improvement far outweighed that of “pain points.” As a result, her approach to harvesting “pain points” could be summed up in one phrase: going with the flow. If an opportunity arose to collect a little, so be it; there was no need to force the issue.

  She sighed again. Deep down, she truly considered herself a kind person. She could never bring herself to inflict suffering on others merely to harvest their negative emotions unless absolutely necessary.

  Of course, as the saying goes, if anyone dared to provoke her, she would not hesitate to allow them to experience true pain. Those items in the system store were no joke.

  Speaking of which, her initial impression of Dionysios had been favorable. Coupled with the memories of the original host, this young man, who appeared older than his years, had never used his privilege to bully the original host. On the contrary, he seemed to bear a sense of redemption, persistently seeking to untie the knots in the original host’s heart and even trying to reintegrate her into the Papadopoulos familia. This endeavor, of course, had ultimately failed, but he never wavered in his efforts.

  Clearly, Dionysios valued familial bonds and had a strong sense of responsibility. In the Papadopoulos familia, where Demetrios’s type was the norm, he could be considered an anomaly.

  It was no surprise that he earned the chairman’s appreciation. After all, in this world, there were always men of integrity who had the potential to achieve greatness.

  The more grandfather Nikos despised his younger son Demetrios, the more he came to value his grandson Dionysios. In a familia that reviled and marginalized Demetrios, it was solely thanks to Dionysios that he could regain a modicum of respect.

  At that moment, Xanthia returned to her seat by the window in her cssroom. She shook her head, casting aside all the bothersome matters concerning the Papadopoulos familia, and happily resumed reading her manga.

  The parallel world seemed to have a wealth of intriguing works that had never existed in her former world. This was primarily due to the country’s pure capitalist trajectory, which had resulted in creations that btantly catered to the pleasures of the ruling css—tycoons and politicians alike. Those who understood, understood. For those who didn’t, one could think of the Korean and Japanese cultures from her previous life for reference.

  The magazine Xanthia was currently perusing embodied the style of Korean manga while also reflecting the youthful fir of Japanese youth manga. It offered sharp critiques of tycoons and politicians in myriad ways, showcasing a protagonist who was both reckless and domineering within the manga world, reveling in sheer ecstasy. It broadened her horizons, and she couldn’t help but admire the audacity of the author, wondering whether they were not afraid of backsh.

  Indeed, it seemed they were unfazed, for in this world, exposing the darkness of tycoons and the filth of politicians in television dramas and films had become all too commonpce. The unfortunate truth, however, was that it bore little fruit in reality; behind these productions, it was still the tycoons who financed them.

  In a sudden moment of crity, Xanthia realized why Dionysios attracted so much attention at school; he was the “grandson of a tycoon.” Although many voiced disdain when discussing tycoons, the truth remained that many secretly wished to join the so-called “super elite” css.

  At that moment, Dematero re-entered the cssroom from outside. Noticing Xanthia happily engrossed in her manga again, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her, “Xanthia, I’ve noticed that aside from your seriousness in css, you seem terrified of wasting a single minute on studying during your free time. No wonder your grades are a bit disappointing.”

  His words were both a jest and a subtle warning. The academic atmosphere at Thessaloniki First High School was exceedingly strict, and students like Xanthia, who focused solely on enjoyment, were somewhat of an anomaly.

  Without raising her gaze, Xanthia replied nonchantly, “I already know the material from css. It’s only natural not to squander time studying at other times.”

  Wasting time studying... that statement left him utterly speechless!

  “Then why did you perform poorly on the test?” Dematero countered.

  “Because I wasn’t serious in css before. I’ll demonstrate my true capabilities from now on. I’ll prove myself directly in the next monthly exam. Is that a problem for you?” Xanthia retorted lightly.

  Dematero found himself momentarily at a loss for words. She had truly pyed him. It was infuriating!

  Yet the pressing question remained: could she genuinely excel in the monthly exam?

  Dematero certainly didn’t believe it. He had previously borrowed Xanthia’s test paper and found that her foundation was far from solid. How could she hope for a comeback in terms of grades?

  “Why weren’t you serious before?” he asked.

  At st, Xanthia raised her head. Her fair, delicate features framed eyes that shimmered with crity and warmth, reminiscent of autumn water.

  She met Dematero’s gaze and said softly, “Because to be recognized as your friend, I must not only sing well but also achieve good grades—at least better than Elena La Loannou, right? Isn’t that so, Dematero?”

  Dematero felt a tingling sensation as she regarded him, almost wanting to sp himself. Why had he chosen to disturb her while she was enjoying her manga? Moreover, why had she mentioned “Elena La Loannou”? Did he truly exhibit such evident signs of admiration for Elena?

  “Xanthia, I’ve regarded you as my friend for quite some time. You are you, and there’s no need for comparison with anyone else,” Dematero said firmly.

  While saying this, Dematero couldn’t help but doubt whether Xanthia could truly surpass his angel, Elena La Loannou, in terms of grades.

  It wasn’t that he cked faith in her potential. After spending time with Xanthia, he recognized her intelligence. However, her attitude towards studying was clear to all. In an environment where everyone was striving diligently, merely paying attention in css seemed inadequate.

  Xanthia pursed her lips, determination gleaming in her eyes.

  She had accepted the challenge of “achieving first pce in the css in the monthly exam.” As long as she fulfilled this task and obtained the “Study Expert” attribute, subsequently upgrading it to “All-Round Schor” and “Academic Exalted,” she could relish the joys of high school for three splendid years!

  Although she had multiple chances in the upcoming monthly exams, she believed it best to exert herself and seize the opportunity during the first one, when the volume of high school knowledge remained manageable. After all, the sooner she acquired the entry, the sooner she could enjoy its benefits.

  It was like drawing cards—the earlier you drew, the sooner you enjoyed the rewards!

  Speaking of drawing cards, Xanthia suddenly remembered that she had yet to open the blind boxes she had exchanged for “pain points.” After school that day, she returned to her apartment, checked the date, and, indeed, it was an auspicious day!

  After bathing and changing into fresh clothes, her excitement soared as she opened all three blind boxes simultaneously!

  Among the three, one was a dud, containing only the guaranteed “vitality potion.” However, the other two blind boxes...