I lounged in my room, sprawled across the oversized armchair.


    As I tried to shake off the lingering annoyance ofst night''s fiasco.


    The Saturday sunlight barely crept through my curtains.


    Giving the room a gloomy atmosphere that suited my mood perfectly.


    Yesterday had been an... event, to say the least.


    All that noise, the insults, the fear on their faces.


    All of it was intended, carefully orchestrated.


    But in retrospect, it wasn''t nearly as satisfying as the points I''d gained.


    False Evil Points—FEPs—had flooded in thanks to that scene outside my door.


    The system chime echoed in my mind.


    Each point notification shing before me in twisted reminders of my so-called achievements.


    [+4 FEP] — Cruelly shamed a ssmate''s family lineage.


    [+8 FEP] — used student of harboring lewd intentions, expertly shattering her ego.


    [+10 FEP] — Instilled profound fear in multiple students through physical intimidation and condescension.


    [+6 FEP] — Insulted a female student''s dignity, calling her beauty and vanity into question, thus diminishing her self-worth.


    [+12 FEP] — Issued violent threats to a student, breaking hisposure and confidence.


    The points tallied up nicely, pushing me closer to the skill I so desperately wanted to unlock—Killing Intent Detection.


    It was a necessity, especially when existing as one of the most despised people in the academy.


    You''d think being hated would be an easy task.


    But the truth was that it came with its own set of challenges.


    My reputation required maintenance.


    And the system seemed to revel in my every misstep or miscalction.


    Even the smallestpse in decorum.


    A smudge on my clothing, an unpolished shoe—could trigger penalties that left me writhing in pain.


    ying the viin to perfection wasn''t just about flinging insults and res.


    There were nuances, rules to follow, limits to bnce.


    Firstly, being detested while keeping people on edge required constant vignce.


    One poorly timed smile, a hint of vulnerability, and the entire facade could start to crumble.


    Second, the role demanded an exhaustive level of consistency, the kind that left me drained by day''s end.


    And third, it was... well, lonely.


    The istion grated on me more than I cared to admit.


    Yet, as much as I despised the work it took to maintain my infamy, the benefits were worth it.


    I''d always been pragmatic—no use dwelling on the fallout of past events, as unappealing as they were.


    The points I''d amassed yesterday were proof enough that my effort had paid off


    And if I kept things up, I''d soon have that Killing Intent Detection skill.


    That would mean one less weakness in a school filled with overly ambitious students and hidden threats.


    For today, though, I had another agenda.


    My financial situation needed attention, and the weekend presented the perfect opportunity.


    Despite being born into the most prestigious family in the empire.


    I had been cut off from any mary support.


    A reminder of my so-called transgression.


    My family.


    Even thinking about the situation left a sour taste in my mouth.


    The second semester of my first year had ended in disgrace.


    After a particrly unfortunate incident involving one of the school maids.


    Drunk, arrogant, and entirely unaware of the consequences, I''d ended up in her quarters.


    She hadter testified it was consensual, yet no one had believed her.


    Most assumed she''d been intimidated into lying to protect me.


    The truth hadn''t mattered to the academy, nor to my family, who seemed more than willing to ept the scandal as another nail in my coffin.


    Father had wanted to disown me outright, erase my name from the Ashbourne line.


    But Mother had intervened.


    I''d been spared the ultimate disgrace, but the punishment still stung.


    No money, no resources.


    Nothing, except the personal maid Father had provided.


    The same one who served as a constant, mocking reminder of that mistake.


    "If you''re so desperate for a good time," Father had told me, "take it out on the maid.


    She''s yours to do as you wish.


    But don''t think of seeking a single coin from me."


    That memory still crawled under my skin like a disease.


    I hadn''t asked for any of this.


    Hadn''t asked for the istion, the distrust, or the responsibility of a family name weighed down by centuries of tradition and legacy.


    And yet, here I was, alone in my room.


    Needing money just to survive the rest of my time at this academy.


    I''d have to find a way to make a steady ie, and I knew just the ce to start.


    A dying supply shop nestled in the academy''s town center.


    It sold everything—potions, rare ingredients, and supplies for students venturing into the academy''s Western Woods or taking on personal projects.


    Despite its usefulness, it was barely holding on.


    Ack of support from the academy, low visibility.


    And a stubborn owner who refused to modernize his business practices had left the shop in near-ruin.


    For me, though, it was a perfect opportunity.


    It would take only a bit of leverage, some careful persuasion, and I could position myself as an investor.


    There was no need for money up front if I yed my cards right.


    Just a convincing argument and perhaps a bit of help from the system''s skills to seal the deal.


    Standing from the chair, I strode over to the mirror and began pulling on my attire for the day.


    A fitted ck turtleneck, a designer coat, gloves, and tailored pants.


    Every detail had to be perfect.


    The system''s punishment was quick to remind me of that.


    Each time I let even the slightest w in my appearance go unaddressed, I''d suffer searing pain in my chest.


    An unbearable sensation that dragged on for minutes.


    Once my appearance was pristine, I stepped back and inspected the final result.


    The image was as polished as it needed to be.


    Every inch of me exuded the cold confidence of a noble.


    A figure above the rest.


    Not just another student scuttling through the academy''s halls.


    I was meant to be detested, feared, and despite the frustration it caused, the role was one I wore like a second skin.


    Stepping out of my dorm room, I could already feel the familiar stares.


    My peers edged out of my way.


    Keeping a wary distance, some ring while others avoided eye contact altogether.


    Good.


    Let them believe what they wanted.


    Let the rumors swirl.


    I''d made my name as a viin here, and the FEPs kept flowing.