School was exactly as I expected, and yet entirely different. The usual whispers and snickers that followed me down the hall were still there, but they felt… distant. Inconsequential.
I was observing them from behind a one-way mirror.
The real show started in first-period Heroic History. I saw Mark and his cronies huddled by their lockers. They looked terrible.
Their faces were pale, their eyes were bloodshot, and they flinched at every loud noise. When Mark saw me walking down the hall, he didn't sneer.
He physically recoiled, pulling his friends back as if I were radioactive. He couldn't meet my eyes.
A small, vicious smile played on my lips. My Status screen had said my Charm was 'Negligible.' Maybe so.
But Fear? Fear was a currency all its own.
I took my usual seat at the back of the class. Our teacher, Mr. Albright, was a portly man whose passion for the official, sanitised history of heroes was matched only by his love for the sound of his own voice.
"And so," he droned on, a hologram of the hero 'Aegis' posing majestically behind him, "we see that the modern Hero Guild, through its tireless efforts, has ushered in an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity!"
I almost snorted. Peace and prosperity for the rich, maybe.
As if sensing my dissent, the system chose that moment to make an appearance.
[New Mission Generated.]
The red box popped up in my vision, making me jump slightly.
[Mission: The Seed of Doubt]
[Description: The truth has been buried under a mountain of convenient lies. A villainess knows that the most powerful weapon is not a fist, but a question. Expose a flaw in the official narrative.]
[Objective: Publicly ask a question that challenges the teacher's lesson.]
[Reward: 10 EXP, 20 VP.]
[Failure Penalty: None.]
No penalty. This was a tutorial mission. A chance to dip my toes into the waters of villainy without the risk of drowning. The reward was small, but it was something. It was a start.
My hand started to tremble. To speak up in class? Me? The silent girl? Everyone would stare. It went against every instinct for survival I had honed over the last sixteen years.
But the mission objective was to "publicly ask a question," not necessarily to speak it myself. A wicked, brilliant idea began to form.
I pulled out my datapad, my fingers flying across the screen as I typed. Then, taking a deep breath, I stood up.
The scraping of my chair was loud in the classroom. Every eye turned to me, including Mr. Albright's, who paused with a look of annoyance.
I ignored them all. My focus was on one person.
I walked down the aisle, my steps silent but heavy with purpose. I stopped right beside Mark's desk. He flinched as if I'd struck him, shrinking back in his seat and refusing to look up.
I placed my datapad on his desk, the screen facing him. Then, I tapped the top of the device once, a sharp, commanding sound.
My gaze was fixed on him, cold and unblinking. It was not a request. It was an order.
The entire class held its breath, watching this bizarre, silent exchange. Mark stared at the datapad, his face paling even further.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He knew he had no choice.
Trembling, he picked up the datapad and stood. His voice was a shaky, terrified whisper at first, but he forced it out.
"Mr. Albright," Mark read, his voice cracking.
"You mentioned the 'unprecedented era of peace' brought on by the Hero Guild. But the pre-Guild history files mention that the villain 'Nyx' was instrumental in defeating the world-ending threat of the Chronos Parasite, something the heroes of the time failed to do.
The official narrative credits the hero Sol Invictus for the victory, but Nyx's involvement is a documented fact… even if it's buried in the archives."
He paused, taking a ragged breath before reading the final, devastating part.
"So my question is: if a villain was necessary to save the world, can we truly say the heroes alone are responsible for our current peace? Or is the Guild's narrative simply better for marketing?"
Mark finished and stood there, swaying slightly, holding my datapad like it was a venomous snake. The silence that followed was absolute, a thick, heavy blanket of pure shock.
The class wasn't just stunned by the question; they were stunned that Mark, my chief tormentor, had been the one to ask it, like my personal mouthpiece.
I had not only challenged the teacher, but I had also demonstrated a terrifying new power dynamic without saying a single word.
Mr. Albright's face went from smug to confused to pale, and was now rapidly turning a blotchy, furious red. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
He was, for the first time all year, utterly speechless.
And in the corner of my vision, a small, beautiful notification glowed.
[Mission Complete!]
[Reward: 10 EXP, 20 VP awarded.]
The silence in the classroom was a living thing. It was thick with shock, confusion, and a delicious undercurrent of fear. Mark stood trembling, my datapad still clutched in his white-knuckled hand.
Every eye was locked on the scene, a tableau of shattered expectations: the bully turned puppet, the silent girl turned puppet-master.
I let the moment hang in the air, savouring it like a fine wine. While most students were simply gawking, I noticed a flicker of movement a few desks away.
It was Maya, a girl who usually kept to herself, her face half-hidden by a curtain of dark hair as she sketched endlessly in a notebook.
She wasn't looking at the sputtering teacher or the terrified Mark. Her sharp, intelligent eyes were fixed on me.
There was no shock on her face, only intense, analytical curiosity.
She saw the power play for what it was, and a flicker of something—respect? intrigue?—passed through her gaze before she looked down, her pencil suddenly flying across the page.
With deliberate slowness, I walked back to Mark's desk, plucked the datapad from his nerveless fingers, and returned to my seat without a single glance at our apoplectic teacher.
The message was clear: my part in this was done.