The morning sun bathed Kuoh Town in a golden glow, the crisp autumn air carrying the faint scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby café. It was the kind of serene, picturesque morning you'd find in a slice-of-life anime.

  But today?

  Today, I wasn't just another background character blending into the scenery.

  I strolled toward Kuoh Academy's towering gates, my footsteps steady, my posture rexed yet undeniably confident. It wasn't intentional, but every movement carried the effortless grace of someone who had leveled up overnight—like a protagonist stepping into their destined role.

  I could feel it.

  The subtle shift in the air. The weight of countless gazes locking onto me. The whispers starting to spread before I had even reached the courtyard.

  I adjusted my tie, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

  "Showtime."

  The Reactions Were Instant.

  ?? Male Students:

  Some froze mid-step, as if an unknown final boss had just entered their peaceful slice-of-life setting. Others narrowed their eyes, scanning me like I had committed some unspoken crime against the ws of puberty.

  "Who the hell is that?"

  "Wait… is that—no way, that's Malrik?!"

  "Yesterday, I was a solid six-out-of-ten… This bastard's gonna ruin the whole curve!"

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from ughing. Damn, these guys were suffering.

  ?? Female Students:

  The effect was… significantly different.

  A wave of whispers, giggles, and wide-eyed double-takes spread across the courtyard. Some girls stole quick gnces before whispering to their friends. Others weren't so subtle.

  "Is he a transfer student?"

  "No, wait—he looks familiar… but way hotter?"

  "Do you think he has a girlfriend?"

  I swear I heard a squeal.

  I kept my expression cool, barely lifting a hand to run through my hair—purely for effect, of course. The morning breeze cooperated beautifully, ruffling my hair just enough to add that anime protagonist fir.

  Was I overpying this moment?

  Absolutely.

  Did I care?

  Not even a little.

  "This school isn't ready for me."

  And honestly?

  I was just getting started.

  The moment I stepped through the cssroom door, reality itself seemed to stutter.

  Conversations died mid-sentence. Pens slipped from fingers. A few students even froze like someone had just g-switched the entire room.

  All eyes locked onto me.

  Some faces scrunched up in confusion, their brains working overtime to process what they were seeing. Others openly gawked, scanning my face like they were running a mental "Before & After" comparison.

  Even the teacher, a middle-aged man with perpetually tired eyes, blinked in pure disbelief.

  The teacher hesitated, adjusting his gsses as if a clearer lens might fix whatever anomaly had just walked into his cssroom.

  "Uh… excuse me, young man, but are you—"

  His gaze flickered between the css roster and my face. Once. Twice.

  Then, like a glitch in the matrix, his entire expression contorted into sheer shock.

  "Wait. Malrik… Van?!"

  I gave a polite nod. "Morning, sensei."

  Silence.

  The poor man rubbed his temples, muttering under his breath, "I swear, kids aren't supposed to have glow-ups this dramatic…"

  And then, like dropping a match into gasoline, the cssroom exploded with whispers.

  ?? Students (collectively losing their minds):

  "Wait, MALRIK?! That Malrik?!"

  "No way! He was… round st time, right?"

  "Dude looks like he walked straight out of an anime now!"

  "What the hell happened overnight?! Did he get isekai'd and then come back?!"

  I kept my expression cool, casually striding toward my desk like I hadn't just rewritten the entire social hierarchy of Kuoh Academy.

  But then my gaze nded on the back of the room—and that's where the real fun began.

  Sitting in their usual spot were none other than Issei Hyoudou and his two degenerate disciples, Matsuda and Motohama.

  To say they looked stunned would be an understatement.

  Issei, future Oppai Dragon himself, had his jaw hanging open like he had just witnessed a divine revetion.

  Matsuda looked like he had seen God descend from the heavens—except instead of awe, his expression screamed sheer existential crisis.

  And Motohama? That nerd was already pushing up his gsses, his inner statistics machine running calcutions at full speed.

  I could see them whispering.

  Issei: "Bro… I think we just witnessed a natural phenomenon."

  Matsuda: "What the hell did he eat?! Can we eat it too?!"

  Motohama (gsses fshing): "The probability of this kind of aesthetic evolution is… astronomically low."

  I had to fight every instinct not to burst out ughing.

  "Even the future Oppai Dragon is shaken. My cheat system might actually break DxD's plot entirely."

  With all eyes still glued to me, I leaned back in my chair, stretching zily as if none of this was remotely surprising.

  Let them wonder. Let them specute.

  This was only the beginning.

  Because if they were losing their minds over my appearance…

  Then what would happen when they saw what I could really do?

  I barely had time to settle into my new role as Kuoh Academy's unexpected main character before the first challenger stepped up.

  "Ah. Here we go."