Not the Hero, Not the Villain — Just the One Who Wins

Two hours of Evelyn's relentless lightning training had left me looking like a man who had lost a fight with a storm and then been dragged through a hedge backward. My hair, usually a sleek curtain of black silk, now stuck up in wild, singed tufts. My uniform was more tattered rags than fabric, and my face—well, it was best not to dwell on the patchwork of minor burns and bruises.

I staggered into the washroom of the training facility, splashed cold water on my face, and glared at my haggard reflection in the mirror. The System, ever helpful, chimed in with its usual brand of snide commentary.

[You look like a lightning rod that got struck one too many times.]

I flipped off the mirror and left.

The Cafeteria Scheme

The academy cafeteria buzzed with the idle chatter of students, the air thick with the rich scent of roasted mana-beast and spiced coffee. My stomach growled, a hollow, aching sound that reminded me I hadn't eaten since dawn. I scanned the glowing menu banner that hung above the counter, my eyes widening at the prices.

Dragonfire Steak – 1,000 Credits

Mana-infused Coffee – 100 Credits

"Let's see how much I've got," I muttered, tapping the face of my academy-issued bracelet. The holographic display flickered to life, showing my account balance.

[Balance: 1,000,000 Credits]

A slow, predatory smirk curled my lips. The reward for winning the Student Council War had been generous indeed.

I strode to the counter, my confident gait a stark contrast to my disheveled appearance. The nervous attendant, a first-year student doing his work-study, flinched at my approach.

"Give me the most expensive thing you've got," I demanded, my voice a low drawl. "And how do I pay with this?" I waved my bracelet.

The attendant swallowed hard. "S-Sir," he stammered, "Rank 1 students don't pay for food. It's… it's free."

I blinked. "Then where the hell do I use these credits?" This copy was generated from content at MV|LEMPYR.

The attendant glanced around nervously before lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Campus transactions, my lord. Books from the restricted archives, rare artifacts from the academy vault, custom-made weapons…" He hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. "You can even hire people. Not—not like that! Just… for dirty work. Discreet tasks."

My smirk widened. An idea, brilliant and utterly unscrupulous, began to form in my mind. "What if I buy dishes from you for free," I murmured, leaning in, "and then sell them to the other students at a discount? We could split the profits."

The attendant's eyes flickered with a brief, intense flare of greed—then were immediately extinguished by a wave of pure terror. "I… I prefer living, my lord. The Headmaster would skin me alive."

"Half a million credits monthly," I murmured, my voice a tempting, venomous whisper. "We'd be kings."

The attendant shuddered, his face pale. "Your order's ready, sir. Please… just leave."

With a scoff, I grabbed my tray—piled high with enough food to feed a small battalion—and claimed a secluded table in the corner, away from the prying eyes of the other students.

The Prince's Offer

I had just taken my first, glorious bite of the Dragonfire Steak when a shadow fell over me.

"Hi. I'm Rayne Thorne. First Prince of the Galat Empire."

I looked up, my chewing slowing. The boy standing before me was unmistakably Cecilia's older brother—the same glacier-blue eyes, the same silver-blond hair tied back in a neat, elegant half-ponytail. But where Cecilia was ice and steel, this kid had the restless, almost manic energy of a hound pup who'd just discovered fire.

I finished chewing slowly, then swallowed. "What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice dripping with the casual arrogance that had become my shield.

Rayne grinned, a flash of white in his handsome face. "Wow, you maintain the rumors well. I'm here to propose a deal."

I arched a brow but didn't stop eating, taking a large bite of a roasted root vegetable.

Rayne leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur. "You know the annual battle for the Student Council throne, right? The faction leader who emerges victorious forms a ten-man army and claims dominion over the academy for a year. This year, I'm making my move. And I want you in my faction."

I took a slow sip of my mana-infused coffee. "And why should I care?"

Rayne's grin sharpened, his eyes gleaming with a competitive fire. "Because last year, your sister, Lucielle, and Liora's sister, Layla, dominated the race. Their factions crushed everyone. We were close, but not close enough. This time, I have the strength to crush them."

I set my fork down, my interest finally piqued. "What's in it for me?"

Rayne chuckled, a confident, easy sound. "Come on. Don't tell me the thought of winning against your sister and your ex-fiancée's sister wouldn't satisfy that cold, vengeful heart of yours. After all, you hate them."

My eyes darkened. "And what makes you think that?"

Rayne waved a dismissive hand. "Fine, fine. Let's talk tangible rewards. If we win, I'll grant you an S-rank artifact of your choice from my kingdom's royal vault. A guaranteed seat on the Student Council—you know the perks that come with that. And…" He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Anything else you desire, within reason."

I leaned back in my chair, considering his offer. It was tempting. Power, influence, and the chance to humiliate both Lucielle and Liora in one fell swoop? It was a dish of revenge best served cold, and I was starving.

"Count me in," I said at last, my voice a low murmur. "But remember your promises after I win."

Rayne's grin turned triumphant. He pulled a magically-sealed contract from his pocket, scribbled a few lines with an enchanted quill, signed it, and slid it across the table. "Here. Proof of our agreement."

I took it, my eyes scanning the glowing runes of the magical contract before tucking it away. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Rayne gave a mock salute and left, his confident stride turning more than a few heads.

I finished my meal, the taste of victory already sweet on my tongue. Now, where was my next class?

[System Alert: New Quest – "Claim the Throne"]

▸ Objective: Win the Student Council succession battle.

▸ Reward: [Strength] Attribute Upgrade (C → B), [Speed] Attribute Upgrade (C → B).

▸ Failure: [Strength] Attribute Downgrade (C → D), [Speed] Attribute Downgrade (C → D).

I smirked.

This was going to be fun.