Chapter 4
It took a few minutes for everyone to settle down, but soon everyone is quiet, except for the sounds of heavy breathing and a few whispers. The terrorists are standing at the front, looking around the room, taking in everyone's faces and bodies. One of them looks annoyed as he speaks into his ear piece and taps his foot incessantly. The other seems to be more impatient, kicking over desks and chairs with his boots.
30 minutes pass. The air grows heavier with fear and tension, sweat mixing with the scent of dust and old paper.
Yassu sits still—first row, near the front—eyes half-lidded but *seeing everything*. His **Omega Eyes**—a power only Absolute-Tier Villains possess—pierce through layers of illusion, emotion, and hidden stats. He scans his classmates like a predator reading prey.
Most are Side Characters—he sees their faint blue auras flicker low and dull. Two Heroes pulse red in the back—but weak ones. No Heroine nearby… not yet.
Then he spots him—
**Arthur**.
A lone man from his past world—he only come in this class
*Maybe useful later,* Yassu thinks, storing that fact away like stolen treasure.
His attention snaps forward as movement breaks silence.
One terrorist—a tall brute with scarred knuckles—grows bored. He mutters into his comms: "Nothing's happening out there… let's have fun."
The other hesitates: "Command said no contact."
"Since when do we follow rules?" he sneers—and strides toward Ms. Lira at the podium.*
She tries to stand—but he grabs her wrist hard enough to bruise bone.*
"Please," she says, voice shaking just once—"Don't do this."
He laughs—a dry rasp—and raises his hand glowing faintly purple (low-grade telekinesis). With a flick—
***Riiip***
Her blouse tears open clean down the middle.
Gasps fill the room like smoke under flame. Girls cry out; boys look away fast or stare frozen in shock mixed with shameless lust hidden behind eyes they think no one sees…
But Yassu?
He doesn't flinch—not when her bra vanishes next
—not when her body is exposed cold under dirty light
—and certainly not when that animal shoves her down on all fours
and yanks off pants
and forces himself inside her without mercy
while she chokes on sobs beneath him.*
Moans mix with pain as hips slam forward rhythmically — each thrust echoing off cracked walls like war drums beating surrender time after time…
Blood trickles slightly from inner thigh — too tight too rough no care
And still—
***Yassu watches***
not for pleasure
not for excitement
but because *evil must understand suffering* to twist it better later
He observes how helplessness spreads:
First student drops head — then second — then all begin looking down except Arthur who fights nausea gripping desk so hard wood splinters
System message flashes again silently inside mind:
🔥 ***EVENT DETECTED: PUBLIC DEGRADATION +35 POINTS***
🔥 ***PASSIVE OBSERVANCE OF ATROCITY +15 (x1) = +15***
Total earned so far: **+50**
Still quiet... still calm...
No action taken…
But deep within shadowed soul?
Something smiles wider than ever before—
Because real monsters aren't made in fire...
They're born watching others burn,
And choosing not to look away.*