"What?"
"I said I don’t want to join your team."
Just like that. Clear. Direct. No frills.
A flicker of surprise passed across Leo’s face—barely noticeable, but definitely there.
He hadn’t expected that.
Honestly? Neither did I. But hey, no backing down now.
I offered him a small, polite smile. The kind you’d give someone handing out "join my cult" pamphlets in public.
There was an awkward silence between us. Neither of us said anything. We just... stared.
And then—
Cough.
Leo cleared his throat, like someone trying to awkwardly redirect the conversation.
"Yeah, I’m not in a rush," he said smoothly. "So, think about it."
"Wait—what? Did you not hear me?"
"I heard you," he replied, casually brushing off my protest. "I just know you’ll change your mind. In the end, you’ll choose my team."
"What the hell—?"
"Think about it," he cut in, that cocky smile tugging at his lips. "I’ll be the strongest. Being on my team will only help you."
And with that, he gave a lazy wave and turned around, striding back to his seat by the window like he hadn’t just tried to rewrite my decision.
Leo Taylor, everyone. Absolute main character behavior.
I blinked a few times, still processing the bizarre interaction.
And then—
"What the hell is your problem?!"
That angry shout pierced through the buzzing in my ears. I turned to see the girl—Miss Cheeks—standing, glaring at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.
I squinted at her. And then it clicked.
She was pissed because I’d turned down Leo’s offer.
Like I’d committed a crime against humanity.
Seriously?
Characters like her were the absolute worst in novels. Always ready to defend the golden boy no matter what. Blind loyalty, no self-awareness.
But Leo wasn’t golden boy! Ryen was the one.
But she won’t hear it! She’s Just delusional.
Ugh. Nope. I had zero tolerance for this type.
She was no longer "Miss Cheeks." Nope.
From this point forward, she would be Buttcheeks. No honorifics. No sympathy.
I sighed and snapped, "Can you just shut up for a second?"
"Wha—?!"
Click—!
Slide—!
Before she could even fire back, the classroom door slid open.
Professor Lena walked in, her heels clicking softly against the floor as silence fell over the room.
Perfect timing.
Saved by the bell... or in this case, the professor.
"Alright, homeroom is about to start. Students from other classes, please return to your own classrooms. The academy is very strict about this sort of thing. If you’re caught lingering, you will lose points," Professor Lena announced the moment she stepped inside.
Her tone was calm but carried the weight of someone who didn’t entertain nonsense.
At her words, a few students stood up and started shuffling out of the room, mumbling apologies.
Among them—Buttcheeks.
She threw one last glare at me as she left, dramatic as always.
Wait, what?
She wasn’t even from this class?
Are you kidding me?
I should’ve known something was off. I mean, I hadn’t seen her name during the entrance orientation for Class 1-A, but I just brushed it off. Figured I missed it.
Now that I think about it... yeah, I do remember her.
In a few days, after the academy starts rolling, there’s this whole fan club thing—one for Ryen, one for Leo.
...And Buttcheeks? She was the president of Leo’s.
Right. Now it’s all coming back to me.
Sigh.
Poor girl.
I don’t know why I suddenly felt a flicker of sympathy. Maybe it was because I knew her ending.
She was the first female character to die in the novel.
Brutal death, too. Unceremonious. Practically forgotten after a few Chapters. Just another number in the body count of the "dark twist" arc.
I watched her walk out, still fuming, still glaring at me like I’d stolen her life’s savings.
Honestly, maybe I should have been nicer.
She wasn’t evil, just... incredibly annoying. No filter. No self-awareness. Always acting like she was in a romance drama that only she could see.
Still, it wasn’t like I started anything. She was the one who picked a fight over a seat, of all things.
And now I couldn’t even remember her name.
I only remembered her because of how she left the story.
Gruesome. Unnecessary. Honestly? Kind of sad.
’May your soul rest in peace,’ I thought, folding my hands together in mock prayer.
...In the future, of course.
She’s still very much alive right now.
...Unfortunately.
*****
After few minutes later, when Cheeks Ass left the classroom.
"Hello everyone. I’m Lena, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for the next year. I’m also an active A-rank hero, currently ranked 2,420th in the world."
As Lena stood at the front of the classroom, delivering her self-introduction with a calm, composed tone, a ripple of murmurs spread across the room. You could practically feel the wave of surprise and awe building with every second.
And honestly? I got it.
Rank 2,420 might not sound like a big deal on paper—until you remembered that wasn’t just a national ranking. That was global. Out of millions of registered heroes worldwide, she was among the top.
Not that she looked like someone with that kind of status right now. With her tidy blazer, no-nonsense tone, and the faintest hint of awkwardness behind her serious expression, Lena seemed more like a strict librarian than an international powerhouse.
Still, her rank spoke for itself.
Now, if you’re wondering why heroes even have rankings—like this is some kind of video game—you’re not alone. But it does make sense.
For one, rankings encourage competition, which helps heroes push themselves to grow stronger. More effort equals better defense against monsters, disasters, and whatever else the world decides to throw at us next.
Secondly, it’s great for PR. Heroes are like celebrities—just with more explosions and less scandal (well... usually). Putting high-ranking heroes in the spotlight makes them relatable to the public, boosts morale, and gives people someone to root for.
And, okay, the rankings system is also a way to keep heroes accountable. If you’ve got a number next to your name, people expect things from you. It’s a double-edged sword—but it works.
At least, that’s what the author of this world wrote in the setting book.
Me? I’m just sitting here, watching my secret friend try to keep a straight face while thirty pairs of eyes silently go, Whoa... our teacher’s kind of a big deal.
And yeah. She is.
"Now, let’s start first class of today."