The bell rang for Combat Class.
Ethan walked onto the training field with his usual smirk, hands in pockets, posture too relaxed to be legal. His classmates followed behind, some still whispering about the "drawing" from earlier, others still recovering from how he swatted away Brandon's fireball like it was a mosquito.
And speaking of mosquitoes—
Brandon was already there, pacing like a bull before a charge.
Today was different.
The sun was hotter. The tension was thicker. And the crowd… was larger.
Apparently, a good scandal traveled fast in Liberty High.
Class A students leaned over balcony rails, smirking. Class B had pooled credits to reserve the bleachers. Even a few instructors had paused their lectures to "observe talent development in real time."
Translation: They came to watch Ethan get humbled.
Too bad Ethan had other plans.
---
"Combat demonstration today," barked Professor Marcus, his iron staff tapping the floor with sharp authority. "Volunteers?"
Brandon's hand shot up. "I'll go."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Bold. Brave. Terminally dumb."
Marcus nodded. "Mr. Moore, will you accept?"
Ethan yawned. "Sure. I've been meaning to test my anti-narcissist techniques."
Laughter rippled.
Brandon's jaw clenched. "You think this is a joke?"
"I think your combat skills are a joke. I'm just the punchline."
---
[System Alert]
Battle Arena Triggered: One-on-One Challenge Accepted.
Special Modifier: Public Audience x3. Reputation Risk Increased.
Bonus Objective: Break Opponent's Spirit Without Using a Weapon.
Reward: Unlock Trait – "Verbal Executioner"
Ethan cracked his neck.
Brandon charged.
Fast, flashy, furious.
Typical fire-element cultivator—loud on entry, explosive on ego.
The air around his fists shimmered with flame, and he launched a spiraling jab combo aimed straight at Ethan's head.
Ethan dodged the first. Sidestepped the second. Raised a finger—
And flicked Brandon directly between the eyes.
It was barely contact.
But Brandon flew backward like he'd been struck by a cannon, tumbling across the field and landing in a heap of smoke and singed pride.
---
The audience gasped.
Marcus blinked.
Ethan dusted off his sleeve.
"Volunteers are supposed to return in one piece," he said casually. "I thought that was implied."
Brandon groaned from the ground. "What… what did you do?"
Ethan crouched beside him, lowering his voice.
"You've spent your whole life cultivating for praise, Brandon. For applause. For a script that told you you're special."
He leaned closer, eyes sharp.
"But no one warned you what happens when the villain walks in with a pen of his own."
---
[System Update]
Trait Unlocked: "Verbal Executioner" – +30% effectiveness to mental damage when taunting an opponent.
Reputation +120 (from Classmates)
Reputation +60 (from Observing Instructors)
Fear Index: 42%
---
Later that afternoon, a notification appeared in Ethan's system interface:
> Student Recommendation Received: You have been nominated for the "Combat Theory Assistant Instructor" role.
That night, Ethan sat alone on the rooftop of the dorms, legs dangling over the edge, wind brushing his hair like an old ghost whispering secrets.
His system interface hovered before him, data scrolling like a living web.
> New Trait Active: Verbal Executioner
Status: Passive
Description: Your words now cut deeper than most swords.
Bonus Effect: Enemies subjected to taunts may suffer Qi flow disturbance (5% chance).
He whistled low. "So I talk trash and the system gives me a buff for it. That's just... poetic."
Another notification slid into view.
> Unlocked Hidden Metric: Fear Index
Current Level: 42%
Notes: When Fear Index exceeds 50%, enemies may flee without engaging.
Tip: Public humiliation boosts Fear Index rapidly.
"Damn," he muttered, "I'm becoming a high school horror story."
He glanced down at the courtyard, where students walked under lantern-lit pathways, laughing, gossiping, moving in cliques like spiritual ants. They didn't know it yet.
But something had changed.
He had rewritten the script.
And the world was watching.
---
Meanwhile, in the Instructor's Hall…
Professor Becklin scrolled through her communicator with narrowed eyes.
"Moore... Ethan Moore…" she muttered.
"Something wrong?" asked Marcus, sipping spirit coffee.
She turned the screen toward him. "Do you know what the academy system flagged this morning?"
On the screen was a report.
"Warning: Narrative Instability Detected. Probability of Linear Progression Collapse: 71%. Source: Ethan Moore."
Marcus nearly choked. "Seventy-one?! That's higher than the Prophecy Outliers."
Becklin nodded. "This kid doesn't belong in Class V. He doesn't belong anywhere."
Marcus leaned back. "Then where the hell did he come from?"
The two teachers stared at the screen in silence.
Far above them, the stars shimmered.
One of them blinked red.
---
Back in Class V Headquarters…
Carlos paced like a wolf.
"Yo," he grunted, "when's the next fight?"
Zeke juggled three orbs of compressed boba-flavored qi. "Did you see how he flicked Brandon? That's, like, peak cultivation trolling."
Ember tossed a flame in the air, caught it behind her back. "He's insane. I love it."
Lira just sat in the corner, eyes on the window, voice barely audible.
"He's not here to win," she whispered. "He's here to break the game."
---
Ethan walked in.
The room fell silent.
He held up a slip of paper.
"Starting tomorrow," he said, "I'm your Combat Theory Instructor."
The room exploded.
Zeke: "Wait, what?!"
Carlos: "You can't teach, you're barely older than us!"
Ember: "So... when do we start learning how to insult people into coma?"
Ethan just smiled.
"Lesson one," he said. "The best way to defeat a genius—"
He paused.
"—is to make them doubt they ever were one."
As the class buzzed with half-shocked, half-terrified excitement, Ethan turned toward the chalkboard and scrawled three words in firm, slanted strokes:
> "Villainous Combat Doctrine"
He underlined it twice.
Carlos squinted. "That sounds illegal."
Zeke raised a hand. "Is this, like... a club? Or a cult?"
Ember grinned. "If it is, I'm already loyal."
Ethan tossed the chalk aside and faced them.
"This school was built to create heroes. But history was written by those who burned heroes down."
He stepped closer, voice calm but iron.
"If you follow me, you won't get medals. You won't get applause."
A pause.
"You'll get power."
Everyone went silent.
Somewhere in the system interface, a line blinked quietly into existence:
> [Class V Loyalty: 4/5 Established]
Next Trigger: A new monster approaches...