My Borderline Supervillain-Slash-Hero System

Only Ronaldo remained behind.

He stepped forward and handed his form directly to Asphalt.

Asphalt raised an eyebrow. "What's this supposed to mean, Master Ronaldo?"

"Oh, so you know my name?"

"Well, you do have a nameplate on your chest." Asphalt deadpanned.

Ronaldo leaned in and lowered his voice.

"Listen, boy. I just helped you get everyone to sign those forms. You should be thanking me."

He glanced around before whispering, "Don't worry about their threats back at the Academy. I'll protect you. Your bank. Your interests. All I want… is a small share."

Zane and the team blinked at the balding, middle-aged man with a lean frame and sly smile.

"Don't look so shocked," Ronaldo chuckled. "I know, I know—I'm handsome, irresistible. But I'm a modest man."

Asphalt squinted, snapping his fingers twice in Ronaldo's face. "Earth to Master Ronaldo… Are you high?"

"I'm serious," Ronaldo said, tone sharp now.

Zane finally spoke, cool and direct.

"Sorry. No shares left."

Fatty Har chimed in, blinking. "Wait, didn't you just say the Academy would cover the fees?"

Ronaldo smirked.

"I lied."

Zane froze.

Ronaldo leaned closer, voice laced with mischief.

"We're not here under academy orders. We volunteered for this mission—to boost our own status. The academy doesn't give a hoot what happens here. No reimbursements. No backup."

He chuckled darkly.

"And thanks to me, they all just signed legally binding loan agreements. Which means… I'm already in this. Like it or not."

Great continuation! You're maintaining strong momentum and building both tension and intrigue with this negotiation. This exchange highlights Zane's composure, Asphalt's brash loyalty, and Ronaldo's cleverness. The tone is sharp and witty, with a subtle power play between youth and authority, all wrapped in satirical commentary on corruption, bureaucracy, and ambition.

Zane stared at him for a long moment, then gave the most business-like nod of his life.

"Fine," he said calmly.

"How much do you want?"

Asphalt and the twins instantly voiced their disapproval.

"Zane, no—"

"This guy's a snake—"

But Zane raised a single hand, cutting them off.

"I asked you a question. How much do you want?"

Ronaldo's smirk returned. He folded his arms and responded without shame,

"Fifty percent."

"Ah, get out of here!" Asphalt snapped in disgust.

"I'll handle this," Zane said firmly, then turned back to the teacher.

"No. That's too much. You're being greedy. And frankly, I see no compelling reason to give away a share of our bank."

His voice hardened.

"Now, consider this a warning. Think before you answer again. One more ridiculous number, and this conversation is over."

Ronaldo, surprisingly, didn't get angry.

He understood exactly what was at stake—and he wasn't going to blow his shot.

"Alright," he said, his tone more composed. "Let me tell you why you need me."

He took a breath and counted on his fingers.

"First, you're not even officially enrolled in the Academy yet. You've never seen how many processes are involved in setting up a financial operation like this—especially one targeting students and faculty.

"Second, you've just offended almost half your batchmates."

He glanced toward the entrance gate.

"And let's not forget the angry third-years who now hate your guts. Plus the teachers you publicly extorted? They'll make your lives hell."

He locked eyes with Zane.

"You need someone on the inside. You need me."

The four listened without interrupting.

Zane responded first.

"We already knew the stakes before we loaned them money," he said plainly. "And to be clear—we didn't rob anyone. That's your exaggeration, not ours."

He folded his arms, calm but confident.

"And we already have MOUs signed. That's legally binding. We don't need to establish a full bank in the Academy just yet."

He paused, then added:

"And if things do get complicated, we'll open our bank outside academy grounds. We now have capital. We can hire staff, rent buildings, build infrastructure. We'll scale fast.

"As for your so-called 'troubles'? We really don't care.

"The Academy must have rules. Even the deans and the Director follow them. After all, this is supposed to be the face of the Awakening Era—the place of heroes, not hypocrites.

"If they want to come for us—let them."

His eyes glinted.

"We'll just become the worst debt collectors they've ever seen. Right now, they owe us. That puts us on the upper hand."

Zane's words struck like a hammer.

There was no faltering in his voice. No hesitation in his logic.

Even Ronaldo—who'd tried scaring them into cooperation—began to grasp the reality:

They weren't scared kids.

They were wolves.

Freshers who had managed to extort both students and teachers, and smile while doing it.

This had never happened before.

Ronaldo swallowed the last of his pride and muttered,

"Good. But I still helped you, indirectly. I made sure they signed those forms."

Zane stared at him again.

"Fine. In return, we'll take cash from you."

Asphalt grinned.

"Yeah, that's the better deal."

"I'll even give you a discount," Zane added. "Since you helped. Just five Six-Star Core Stones."

He held up five fingers.

"You've got three minutes to decide. After that, I'm going in—and believe me, once I pass through that gate, it shuts. No further talks."

Ronaldo clicked his tongue, hesitating.

Then he smiled slyly.

"What about this instead? I'll buy a share of your company."

Zane didn't even flinch.

"Now we're talking. How much you got?"

Without a word, Ronaldo reached into his robes and pulled out a silk pouch. He untied it and tilted it slightly—mana core stones of all kinds spilled out, glimmering under the sun like precious jewels.

"Need help counting?" Zane asked.

"Help yourself."

Zane turned to his team. "Alright, everyone—sort by star rating. Go."

They got to work, and after ten minutes of counting and sorting, Zane stood and read the numbers aloud:

"Ninety thousand One-Star stones.

Five hundred Two-Stars.

Seven hundred sixty-four Three-Stars.

Ninety-five Four-Stars.

Twenty Five-Star core stones.

And… twelve Six-Star core stones."

Asphalt whistled. "Whew! Master Ronaldo, you're loaded! What do you do besides teaching?"