The moment that chill ran down Damien’s spine, he stepped forward with a smooth, polished smile.

  “Good morning, Principal,” he greeted, his voice respectful and composed.

  The old man turned and returned the smile warmly.

  Damien Westbrook was well-known—elite grades, impeccable conduct, and from one of the most prestigious families in the city. Of course the principal knew who he was.

  “Mr. Westbrook. Always a pleasure,” the principal said. “Just out for a little stroll.”

  Damien kept his smile in pce. “If there’s anything I can assist you with, sir, just say the word.”

  “Oh, nothing urgent. Just stretching my legs,” the principal said, waving it off as he continued toward the office.

  Let’s hope that’s all it is, Damien thought.

  But before he could even finish the thought, a voice came from inside the office:

  “Oh, hey old man! You here too?”

  It was Ethan Bke.

  And just before that—

  The principal’s familiar voice:

  “Young man! What a surprise to see you here!”

  Damien facepalmed on instinct.

  No… no way. You’ve gotta be kidding me.

  The principal—who almost never leaves his office—just so happened to take a “walk” and stroll directly into this mess?

  And he knows Ethan? Personally?!

  The timing was absurd. Scripted.

  Protagonist plot armor strikes again.

  He leaned against the wall and kept listening, his jaw tight with restrained rage.

  As he eavesdropped, the pieces fell into pce quickly.

  A few weeks ago, the principal had been pickpocketed near a downtown park.

  Ethan had just “happened” to be there.

  He chased down the thief and returned the wallet.

  Of course. Of course. A textbook “hero saves the old man” side event.

  Let me guess…

  Now the principal’s going to py mediator. He’ll act like he’s neutral—soft-spoken, wise—but every word will bend things in Ethan’s favor.

  And sure enough, that’s exactly what happened.

  Inside the office, Damien could hear his three bruised henchmen wavering under the principal’s “grandfatherly charm.”

  They were getting pulled in like toddlers being read a bedtime story.

  No way I’m letting this guy walk away clean.

  Damien pulled out his phone and fired off a text to Colt.

  ?Forget the cops. New pn: demand medical compensation. Keep it private. Aim for damage control, not escation.?

  If the principal was dead set on protecting Ethan, then going full nuclear wasn’t going to work.

  But this way?

  They could still bleed him.

  A few minutes ter, the conversation inside shifted. His three guys had changed tactics—no more talk of police reports.

  Now it was a civil negotiation.

  The principal, clearly relieved, agreed to the new terms.

  The final verdict was this:

  Ethan Bke would pay 3,000 each to Colt, Mick, and Reed—a total of 9,000 in compensation.

  All four students would receive official warnings and be listed on the school bulletin board.

  Each would write and submit a written reflection.

  Any repeat incidents? Immediate expulsion.

  One by one, the four walked out of the office and headed back to css.

  Damien was waiting for them at the stairs.

  The moment Colt and the others spotted him, they rushed over, still sore but smiling.

  “Boss! How’d we do?”

  “Did we handle it right?”

  “That work for you?”

  Damien gave them a rare nod of approval.

  They might not be geniuses—but they followed orders, and this time they didn’t screw it up.

  That alone deserved recognition.

  He opened his phone, tapped a few buttons—and sent 5,000 to each of them.

  The moment the transfers hit, the three froze.

  Mouths open. Eyes wide.

  “B-Boss…”

  They were just high schoolers from modest families. A monthly allowance might have been a couple hundred bucks—tops.

  Five grand each?

  This wasn’t just a bonus.

  This was life-changing.

  Receiving 5,000 each had the boys over the moon.

  To Colt, Mick, and Reed, it was like hitting the lottery.

  They were high schoolers from average families. Monthly allowances barely touched triple digits.

  Now? They were grinning like kids on Christmas morning.

  “Boss, you’re insane,” Colt said, voice full of awe.

  “We’re set for the year!” Mick added, nearly forgetting how much his jaw still hurt.

  All three were glowing with loyalty.

  Right then, Ethan Bke walked past the staircase.

  He didn’t say a word.

  But his eyes—cold, sharp, and absolutely furious—locked directly onto Damien.

  That 9,000 payout had devastated his already-struggling household. And the one person he bmed more than anyone?

  Damien Westbrook.

  Not Colt. Not Mick. Not Reed.

  Them, he could punch.

  But Damien?

  He knew—Damien was the one who pulled the strings.

  If they hadn’t jumped him, he wouldn’t have fought. If he hadn’t fought, he wouldn’t be paying for medical bills. And if he hadn’t lost that money…

  He wouldn’t be here now, humiliated and broke.

  It’s all his fault.

  Ethan clenched his fists, barely containing the storm inside.

  But he wouldn’t sh out—not yet.

  He knew the truth of this world. Money ruled everything. And Damien had it all—status, wealth, connections.

  So for now?

  He’d wait.

  But one day…

  I’ll crush Damien Westbrook.

  I’ll destroy everything he stands for.

  Because with his X-ray ability, rising to the top was only a matter of time.

  —

  After the fight, Ms. Vaughn held an emergency homeroom meeting.

  Her voice was cold. Stern. No-nonsense.

  She didn’t care who started what—both parties got called out in front of the entire css.

  “No more fighting,” she warned. “Next time? You’re out.”

  —

  Later that break, Damien—bored and still simmering—grabbed a basketball and started pying in the hallway with a few guys.

  He wasn’t amazing at the game, but it didn’t matter.

  With his movie-star face, tall build, and now the added Peach Blossom Eyes?

  He was basically a walking fantasy.

  Even casual dribbles drew squeals from the surrounding girls.

  Simple jump shots had them cpping like they were watching the Olympics.

  Some of the more sensitive ones? Looked like they were seconds away from fainting.

  Too easy.

  He was surrounded by a crowd of fangirls—most of them solid 8s or 9s. Maybe not Aria Lane level, but still top-tier.

  With a snap of his fingers, he could probably leave with any one of them.

  Hell, a few looked ready to follow him without the snap.

  This life? This is good.

  But just as he was starting to enjoy it, Reed came jogging up behind him and leaned in to whisper:

  “Boss… Aria just asked Ethan to meet her. In the stairwell. Alone.”

  Instant mood killer.

  Damien’s eyes went cold.

  The girls noticed the shift immediately. The energy around him dimmed.

  He didn’t say a word.

  Just let the ball bounce away—and walked off toward the staircase.

  As he approached, voices filtered through the air.

  Aria’s voice.

  Soft. Concerned.

  “You’re not pnning to tell your parents about this, are you?” she asked gently.

  “If they hear I got into a fight, that’s one thing,” Ethan replied. “But if they find out I owe 9,000 in medical bills? I’m dead. My dad’ll lose it.”

  He ughed awkwardly.

  He was lying.

  Damien could tell instantly.

  He didn’t want Aria to know just how broke his family really was. His pride wouldn’t allow it.

  But Aria saw through him, too.

  She didn’t call it out.

  She just said:

  “I could help you with that.”

  That was why she’d called him here.

  Because, in her heart, she felt partially responsible. She thought the fight might’ve been because of her.

  And even though her favorability score was basically zero…

  She still offered to help.

  Unbelievable.

  From where he stood, hidden just around the corner, Damien felt his blood pressure spike.

  This guy’s favorability score is rock bottom. She doesn’t even LIKE him. And yet she’s out here offering him MONEY?!

  This plot armor is ridiculous!

  If I don’t shut him down soon, he’s going to start grinding her affection back up. Little by little. One “lucky break” at a time…

  And when that happens?

  I lose everything.

  Damien clenched his fists, jaw tight with silent fury.