There Is No Hidden Villain in This Novel Chapter 5

As I mentioned before, the Korean Peninsula is imbued with a special energy that randomly doubles the efficiency of energy cultivation or mana circulation.

In short, not only does it facilitate the absorption of pure energy, but depending on an individual’s effort or innate genius, sudden epiphanies in martial arts might strike like lightning, or the likelihood of experiencing a level-up awakening event to the next realm increases significantly.

You might ask, wouldn’t that cause the entire world’s population to flock here, leading to overpopulation? Research shows that the energy’s effects are most potent for young adults who have just reached maturity.

The logic is that once the body has finished growing and the vessel is formed, that’s the perfect time to pour in the energy to maximize its absorption.

This is why elite prospects from all over the world flock to Korea’s academies.

“All familiar faces.”

Standing in the auditorium, I casually scanned the surroundings and saw familiar faces gathered in small groups, chatting away. To be precise, they weren’t faces I knew personally but faces I had memorized.

If Cassis de Millang didn’t know the faces of influential heirs from noble families and clans, it would be a complete character collapse, so I had wrestled with the unruly mana in my dantian while diligently memorizing them to avoid being underestimated.

My survival strategy was to follow the core of Cassis de Millang’s character while avoiding the world-destroying nonsense.

While I was exchanging smiles and greetings with professors who sent me courteous nods, a few cadets suddenly approached me out of nowhere, attempting small talk.

“Greetings, Lord de Millang! You must be quite tired, yes? It’s tough in this cold weather.”

“To think the esteemed heir of de Millang is seated in this auditorium—Haia Academy’s standards are quite clear!”

Normally, I’d entertain polite greetings, but it was riffraff, riffraff, some guy I didn’t know (meaning he was probably deemed worthless if I didn’t know him), and more riffraff, forming a perfect symmetry.

I mean, I’m not exactly immersed in this class system, but come on, know your place. In a society where the class system hasn’t entirely vanished, for riffraff to dare speak to a de Millang?

It’s a given fact that everything they spew is nonsense, no need to elaborate.

“They seat cadets in an auditorium—where else, a hotel for the entrance ceremony?”

Haia Academy’s enrollment capacity is nine hundred. I don’t know about now, but back in my day, a regular school’s entire first, second, and third years combined barely reached a thousand. In other words, by ordinary standards.

To put it simply, gathering nine hundred rare awakened individuals in a single year is a testament to Haia Academy’s grandeur.

Of course, there’s a steady turnover afterward… but I’ll think about that later.

For now, let’s deal with these pathetic nobodies.

They kept muttering incomprehensible nonsense, polluting my ears.

“It’s truly an idiotic policy. To enroll, you need to register on the awakened roster and be monitored by campus CCTV all day. And to top it off, Korean is the campus’s common language? I still don’t understand why I have to speak this language instead of my mother tongue.”

On closer inspection, they seemed dissatisfied with Haia Academy’s policies. Well, if they let unregistered powerhouses like you roam freely, what kind of chaos would that cause? I’d rather not see my country turn into yours. You mafia warlord brats, whose families illegally sell drugs to make money and buy their way into noble status to enroll here.

My response to such riffraff was singular.

As I consciously moved my facial muscles, my contemplative purple eyes narrowed.

“…That’s curious.”

“What do you mean?”

My head tilted slightly.

“You came to Haia of your own volition, didn’t you? For someone who did, you seem awfully full of complaints.”

“No, that’s not…!”

My fingertip lightly tapped my chin.

“If you don’t want to follow Haia’s rules, why are you here? The ancients said if you dislike the temple, leave the monkhood. To think someone who passed into a coveted institution would speak so frivolously—it’s disappointing…”

The smile that formed was as sweet as a peony.

“It smells foul. Too unpleasant to keep nearby.”

Unlike the sharp words spilling from my lips.

For the record, the foul smell comment was sincere. I don’t know what it was, but their breath was rancid. Did they not brush their teeth after breakfast? Please, bring some hygiene to public spaces.

Anyway, after giving them a proper Cassis de Millang-style verbal thrashing, I drew attention, and the surroundings grew noisy. More precisely, everyone was looking this way, quietly mocking the other side.

Why would they talk to de Millang? So clueless. They’re on a different level…

The whispers were loud. Now, these riffraff friends would have no choice but to apologize and slink away with red faces.

Or so I thought…

“How could you humiliate me like this, Lord Cassis…?”

The guy with the worst breath spoke to me, his face flushed.

What to say.

I was torn between admiring his audacity for continuing to talk after such a public shaming or condemning his shamelessness. To top it off, this was the guy I didn’t recognize. In other words, some nobody I didn’t know was persistently pestering and rubbing up against ‘Cassis de Millang.’

On what grounds?

“Is there a reason I should treat you specially?”

“Are you serious? Our connection…!”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

I was genuine, but my refined tone must have sounded sarcastic. The crowd burst into laughter, and his face turned beet red as he trembled and shouted.

“It’s Bontemps! We exchanged letters recently! Georges Bontemps!”

Hmm, Georges Bontemps…

“Wait?”

A member of ‘Cassis de Millang’s’ crew? Naturally, I had meticulously studied and memorized his profile as a key figure…

“…You photoshopped your profile, you bastard!”

The profile picture was so different from the real thing I couldn’t recognize him! Damn you, Georges Bontemps! How much editing did you do?

But fortunately, Georges Bontemps was a flawed figure in many ways, someone I’d decided to exclude when reforming Cassis de Millang’s crew.

So, I let loose and went all out with the attitude.

“My apologies. I don’t tend to remember worthless people.”

“What does that…?”

With a radiant smile, I waved my hand, and Georges’s face turned even redder. But well, the Bontemps family is a ticking time bomb about to explode, so it’s best to cut ties now. They act like loyal dogs to de Millang in public, wagging their tails, but secretly siphon off de Millang’s share.

There’s another big issue, but we’ll get to that later.

“You don’t seem to understand, so shall I be blunt? You’re far too low-class to stay by my side. So, stop stinking up the place and disappear.”

Crossing my legs and declaring arrogantly, Georges trembled in place, muttered, “…You’ll regret this!”—a totally non-threatening extra line—and turned away. I didn’t even snort, instead clapping my hands twice.

Like a wave, the whispers around me began to subside in a circular ripple, and after a brief wait, I grasped the silence I desired. In the bustling auditorium preparing for the entrance ceremony, a situation arose where only Cassis’s voice echoed.

“Logan Esteban.”

“Yes, Lord Cassis. You called?”

At my call, a man with long jade-green hair, a candidate for the Esteban family’s heir, parted the crowd, placed a hand on his chest, and bowed respectfully.

“Dietrich Winkel.”

“Yes, our de Millang.”

At my call, the sole son of the Winkel family, a languid man with red hair, lounging in a chair, raised one hand in response.

“Capone Yones.”

“Your orders, sir.”

At my call, a woman with short blue hair, embroiled in a succession struggle within the Yones family, appeared behind me like a shadow, responding in a cool tone.

I was suddenly struck by the realization that this was all a novel’s story. The characters’ entrances, behaviors, speech, and even intonations matched the novel’s descriptions. Of course, I wouldn’t let everything follow the novel’s plot.

The original Cassis led a dozen or so followers, causing all sorts of chaos, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy for that. So, I picked these elite members.

Individuals worthy of accompanying ‘Cassis de Millang,’ each capable of leading their own faction if not for the de Millang heir.

Yet, heirs of noble families who had no choice but to follow ‘de Millang.’

“Come here.”

Wearing Cassis’s facade, I smiled brightly.

“I’ll treat you well.”

At those words, Logan, Dietrich, and Capone gathered by my side without a moment’s hesitation, as if they were disciplined soldiers lining up.

The name de Millang held the power to command such esteemed individuals with a mere gesture.

As they stood in formation, waiting for my next order while I lazily propped my chin and gazed, they began bickering over who would sit next to me. Since I was seated at the far left, only one person could take the seat beside me. With one seat and three people vying for it.

In short, it was time to establish the pecking order.

“You all know, don’t you? No one is as suited to serve Lord Cassis as I am.”

“Hey, you’re just heir candidates. I’m the only son. The sole heir. Who’s the highest-ranking among us? Who?”

“You can’t entrust Lord Cassis’s side to a sleazy guy like you. And Logan, you’re no better. Lord Cassis doesn’t need someone to serve him. I’m the most suitable to be his right hand.”

“How can someone with a brain that equates serving with being used dare aim for Lord Cassis’s side?”

“Enough, you’re all too low-class.”

While ordinary awakened individuals around them paled, unable to join their world, I watched the spectacle with amusement until a sharp, burning sensation alerted me to a cold blue flame.

I turned around. And saw.

A large hand, veins bulging and knuckles thick, gripped the backrest of the chair and pulled it back.

My seat. The one the three noble heirs were arguing over. A man nonchalantly sat there, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead.

It was a bizarre situation that even the prim Logan would frown and protest about, unfolding before our eyes.

“…What are you doing, Ryuseong of the Hanla Sect?”

Ryuseong was silently occupying the seat next to me.

＊＊＊

Let’s address one thing.

Haia Academy is located in Seoul, the capital of South Korea.

It’s quite peculiar, feng shui-wise, that an institution aiming to harness pure energy is in the heart of the city rather than the mountains, but situated between the Han River and Namsan Mountain in a geomantically ideal spot, the energy is supposedly phenomenal.

Though Haia Academy competes with Mirinae Academy, which is considered a step below, Mirinae is said to lag behind due to its location away from the Baekdu Mountain and Yanggang rivalry. Meanwhile, the only academy focused on education, Giljabibyeol Academy, draws its energy from Hallasan Mountain. Giljabibyeol is practically the origin of the Hanla Sect, to which the protagonist Ryuseong belongs, because the sect’s leader traditionally serves as the academy’s principal.

But the leader sent Ryuseong, who naturally expected to attend Giljabibyeol, to Haia to see the wider world.

It was a fitting choice for the story’s progression but a mistake for the Hanla Sect’s future.

“By the latter half, while Ryuseong is sweating to prevent the Seoul catastrophe, the Hanla Sect in Jeju gets massacred, and all hell breaks loose.”

I probably shouldn’t say this, but the plot, designed to shatter the protagonist’s mental state, made my heart race too.

In short, the protagonist’s mental breakdown strategy was the novel’s main charm.

“But it feels like the protagonist is breaking my mental state right now…!”

Something’s off with the original protagonist’s condition.