Xanthia had always exercised remarkable restraint when it came to using her extraordinary ability.

  Her summoned insect, so minuscule it was no rger than a speck of dust, was astonishingly fast and virtually imperceptible to the naked eye. This granted it a near-invisibility effect. However, Xanthia remained cautious and controlled, ensuring her use of the mind-controlling summon was always discreet. She had no fear of her unique talent being uncovered, but her prudent nature compelled her to keep its usage covert.

  Xanthia was naturally cautious and methodical—someone who approached every situation with careful consideration. She understood that deploying her summon for every minor dispute or conflict was impractical and, more importantly, risky. While an occasional use might go unnoticed, repeated instances could draw the attention of keen observers, even if they cked tangible evidence of her involvement.

  Thus, apart from the initial incident with Jimmy—where her use of the summon had been abrupt and uncontrolled—Xanthia had exercised great restraint in subsequent situations. She preferred subtlety, adapting her actions to suit the circumstances.

  For example, when dealing with the minor embarrassments of Henry and Yannis, she chose to let them pass without significant intervention. In Yannis’s case, after a particurly humiliating incident, all her anger had been directed at Sequanni, her overbearing roommate. Yannis assumed her misfortune was a result of Sequanni’s meddling and had no suspicion that Xanthia might have orchestrated the event.

  As for Hera, dubbed the "Fart King" after producing an unusually loud series of ftulent sounds, her antics were less severe than those who suffered major accidents. With Jimmy's earlier disturbances now fading from memory, Hera's behavior drew little attention from the watchful eyes of others.

  Xanthia fully understood the importance of maintaining a bance. Her incredible ability could not be wielded excessively or in ways that might attract undue attention. It was akin to the role of a mastermind working in the shadows—bold and conspicuous moves could not be made at every turn. Overuse would inevitably expose her, forcing her into the spotlight where everything would unravel.

  She often reflected on this idea, recalling the downfall of the overconfident protagonist in Death Note, who was ultimately exposed and met his demise.

  Even when faced with Kenny’s arrogant and morally coercive behavior, Xanthia resisted the temptation to act impulsively. More fundamentally, she was deliberately maintaining the appearance of vulnerability, portraying herself as a victim to garner sympathy and secure her spot in the 3000-meter race.

  Xanthia’s pn involved allowing Hera to revel in her temporary success, raising her expectations and mood before ter “harvesting” her downfall. It was a calcuted move, akin to fattening a pig before sughter.

  However, Xanthia had not anticipated that her exaggerated dispy—tear-streaked cheeks, red eyes, and a despondent demeanor—would be captured by a clever instigator and shared with Dematero via a small group of gossipers.

  Dematero’s reaction was explosive.

  Generally calm and mild-mannered, Dematero was the type of person who became uncharacteristically votile when his bottom line was crossed. Seeing Xanthia’s distress, especially given the implications for her “life and death” and “longevity,” was enough to ignite his fury.

  Unlike others, Dematero alone understood the seriousness of Xanthia’s condition. Her mental health was a precarious matter, a ticking time bomb. Her happiness was essential to countering the looming threat. The sight of her tear-streaked, pale face—heartbreakingly beautiful yet filled with suffering—was unbearable for him.

  Once angered, Dematero was unstoppable. With the mindset of a "regressor MC," his youthful exterior masked the soul of a seasoned adult. Yet, his biases still lingered, especially where Elena was concerned.

  Dematero was no longer the hesitant, overly considerate individual who might falter in critical moments. His transformation had instilled him with the confidence and arrogance of someone who viewed himself as the protagonist of the world.

  Kenny, despite his status as a high-ranking member of the sports committee, was still just a high school student. To Dematero, there was no reason to hesitate—it was essential to punish him for Xanthia’s sake. After all, a true main character would never shy away from protecting those they cared about.

  Before Kenny could react, Dematero smmed his head against the desk three times in quick succession. Disoriented and clutching his forehead in pain, Kenny cried out, but he retained just enough awareness to consider retaliation.

  Fortunately, Jimmy—who had moved seats and now sat behind Kenny—stepped in before the situation escated further. Realizing how dangerous the encounter could become, he restrained Dematero, preventing a potential tragedy.

  As Kenny regained his composure and recognized his assaint, his anger surged. That someone as low on the social hierarchy as Dematero—commonly regarded as the css clown and weakling—had dared to attack him was an unforgivable insult.

  Kenny, clutching his forehead with one hand, raised the other into a fist, determined to strike back and restore his dignity.

  “A real man doesn’t back down from a fight!” he thought.

  But as Kenny’s fist swung forward, Dematero intercepted it effortlessly. Capitalizing on Kenny’s preoccupation with his injured forehead, Dematero swiftly seized him by the neck. His voice was icy and menacing as he growled, “Who told you to pick on Xanthia? Why make her cry? Do you want to die that badly?”

  Dematero’s deep, chilling voice carried a terrifying weight, making him appear more like a beast than a mere student. The sheer menace of his aura left everyone frozen in pce.

  From behind the scenes, Xanthia quietly executed her pns. Her summoned creatures worked in perfect harmony, their actions seamless and undetectable.

  Under Dematero’s grasp, Kenny suddenly broke into uncontrolble sobs. Overwhelmed by fear, he lost control of his bdder, soaking his pants and filling the air with a foul stench. The cssroom was gripped by stunned silence as the smell spread.

  Jimmy, who had initially intervened to prevent further violence, found himself recalling a simir incident from his own past. He couldn’t help but wonder, “What’s going on? Is Dematero some kind of anomaly? Does everyone who crosses him end up like this?”

  The thought unsettled him. Could Dematero possess some supernatural power that terrified people into breaking down both mentally and physically?

  The atmosphere in the room grew heavier. Kenny, trembling and humiliated, had become the focal point, but no one dared ugh. Instead, an unshakable dread hung over the css.

  “Dematero scared Kenny so badly he wet himself!” someone whispered.

  “I can’t believe it. He has an aura like an Overlord. Who knew Dematero had such a terrifying side?”

  “I always thought the whole ‘wetting oneself from fear’ thing was just a joke online. But this... this is unreal.”

  …

  Crissante watched in amazement, her thoughts drifting to a simir incident when Jimmy had argued with Dematero, resulting in a comparable outcome. She also recalled the time Henry had experienced an embarrassing mishap after scolding Dematero.

  Piecing it all together, she gasped sharply, her astonishment metaphorically contributing to global warming. Her gaze toward Dematero was filled with awe. She even began to wonder if Dematero possessed superpowers.

  This supposed superpower seemed to manifest as an uncanny ability to cause immediate accidents—whether wetting oneself or worse—in anyone who crossed him. It was truly terrifying. Dematero was someone not to be trifled with!

  What Crissante failed to realize, however, was an even more crucial rule: one must avoid offending Xanthia at all costs.

  At that moment, Dematero noticed Kenny’s exaggerated reaction and frowned with clear disgust. From behind him, a female voice called out—it was Hera.

  “Dematero, don’t overdo it!”

  Hera, instinctively defending her subordinate Kenny, still viewed Dematero as the css’s lowest rung and assumed she could command him at will.

  Dematero, still recovering from the overpowering stench of Kenny’s accident, released his grip on Kenny’s neck. As Hera spoke, he turned to gre at her with furious intensity.

  Hera’s anger fred. She was just about to scold him when, unexpectedly, she burst into ughter. The ughter triggered a series of loud, foul-smelling farts that completely overpowered the lingering odor of urine.

  Dematero, overwhelmed by the stench, covered his nose and muttered, “What a nightmare, dealing with these two lunatics,” before quickly retreating from the odor-infested “battlefield.”

  The “battlefield” was far from Xanthia’s position at the northeastern corner near the water dispenser, so she remained unaffected. This only added to the amusement.

  Meanwhile, the students near the chaos frantically fled, shouting:

  “What is this biological assault? This stench is unbearable!”“I can’t take it! I’ll throw up if I stay any longer!”“Open the windows! We need air before we choke!”“So Hera’s nickname ‘Queen of Farting’ isn’t just about the noise—she can make them smell like this too?”“Did her ughter set these off? How can anyone keep a straight face?”“Could this be her way of covering for Kenny? I’m at my limit here…”

  The back row of the cssroom had devolved into complete disorder, with Kenny and Hera being the root of this “biological crisis.” Both were still dazed, struggling to process the unexpected events that had unfolded.

  Kenny, noticing Hera’s ughter, initially felt defeated, thinking his efforts had been in vain. However, when the smell of Hera’s farts overpowered the scent of his own accident, a strange sense of gratitude filled him.

  Dematero’s voice, deep and menacing, rumbled from his throat as he exuded a dark, beast-like aura that struck terror into those around him. His overwhelming presence was undeniable.

  When he returned to his seat, Dematero was met with looks of awe from his cssmates. Many had noticed the same detail: Hera had tried to intervene on Kenny’s behalf, only to burst into uncontrolble ughter and release her infamous, foul-smelling farts. It was as if Dematero’s gre alone had caused this extraordinary turn of events.

  Lilim, seated in front of Dematero, initially considered reporting the incident to the teacher. However, she quickly dismissed the idea. If the situation escated and Dematero took offense, she feared ending up like Kenny.

  “No, no, no,” she thought. “There’s no way I’m risking my reputation over this!”

  Ultimately, Lilim backed down. She had a decent retionship with Dematero, and since his grades had significantly dropped during the st monthly exams, he had been making a noticeable effort to improve. His frequent interactions with css monitor Ryan and vice-monitor Lilim had naturally brought them closer.

  As long as the teachers remained unaware, Dematero’s actions would go unchecked. Even Kenny seemed too intimidated to report the incident. Dematero was, without question, a force to be reckoned with.

  Kenny was also hesitant to report, fearing that Emmanuel might intervene and ruin Hera’s carefully id pns. His sacrifice had been too great to risk a failed conspiracy. For now, he chose to swallow his anger for Hera’s sake.

  Hera, meanwhile, imagined Dematero as an unknown supervilin with extraordinary powers. She recalled their encounter beneath the national fg and wondered if he had discovered her secret targeting of Xanthia, retaliating in this way as a warning.

  “How is it,” she thought bitterly, “that Xanthia, the weak and easily bullied girl, has someone like Dematero protecting her? It’s so unfair!”

  Hera’s resentment toward Xanthia deepened. Determined to keep her enmity hidden, she resolved to search for more powerful allies. For now, only Kenny had been exposed as a pawn. While Xanthia’s “guardian” might be terrifying, Hera remained confident she could continue plotting as long as he was unaware of her intentions.

  [Ding! Pain points extracted from Kenny. Pain points extracted from Hera.]

  Both had metaphorically “exploded” into a flood of coins, while Dematero had captured the attention of nearly the entire css. Meanwhile, Xanthia, hidden modestly behind the scenes, thought to herself:

  “Did I take this too far?”

  The cssroom atmosphere, once tense as if a cosmic collision were about to occur, had transformed into a chaotic “biological crisis.” It was absurdly entertaining.

  Those far from the back row watched in amusement. While they refrained from openly ughing at Kenny’s embarrassment, Hera’s maniacal ughter, combined with the unbearable stench of her farts, drove the back-row students into a panicked retreat.

  The scene was so ridiculous that it was impossible for anyone to keep a straight face. Who could have predicted such an absurd turn of events?

  The conclusion was clear: Dematero was dangerous. Whether it was his actual power or something more, one lesson was indisputable—do not provoke him. And even more importantly, never offend the girl he cared about. His role as her protector was unshakable.

  Jimmy and Henry understood this all too well. They vowed never to cross Dematero again, fearing another encounter with his terrifying aura.

  Marcus, having pyed basketball until the break was almost over, returned to the cssroom. His seat was in the st row of the first group, closest to the small back room.

  By then, the “biological crisis” had passed. Kenny had slunk back to the dormitory to change his pants, too afraid to seek revenge. It wasn’t due to a ck of courage; Dematero was simply too formidable.

  Marcus gnced toward Xanthia, who stood cheerfully among her friends near the water dispenser in the northeastern corner. He couldn’t help but think:

  “Just another day of world peace.”

  A few days ter, the XXth Annual Autumn Sports Meet of Thessaloniki First High School finally arrived!