“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.”

  Damien stepped further into the room, his tone polite but his eyes sharp as gss.

  He gnced at Coach Chase, then at the oversized bouquet in his hands.

  “Coach Chase, I think it’s obvious Ms. Vaughn isn’t interested. Don’t you think it’s time to stop making things uncomfortable for her?”

  Leonard’s jaw tensed. His pride stung, but he tried to maintain a calm front.

  “Westbrook, this is a personal matter between staff. I don’t think it concerns a student.”

  Damien didn’t miss the way Scarlett Vaughn subtly shifted behind her desk, clearly uneasy.

  “Talking civilly isn’t working, huh?”

  Damien stepped forward, closed the distance in two strides, and without missing a beat, yanked the bouquet out of the man’s hands.

  With zero ceremony, he turned and stuffed the whole thing into the trash bin beside the desk.

  “You harass her again, and I’ll make sure you don’t just lose your job—I’ll have someone make sure you’re limping for the rest of your life.”

  His voice dropped cold and low.

  “Get lost.”

  Leonard stood frozen, stunned at being so thoroughly dismissed by a student. But even in his anger, he didn’t move a muscle.

  Because this wasn’t just any student.

  Damien Westbrook came from money, power, and a st name that made grown men flinch. Starting trouble with him wasn’t career suicide—it was life suicide.

  Grinding his teeth, Leonard finally turned and left in silence, eyes bzing with shame.

  Behind the desk, Ms. Vaughn was still speechless, visibly rattled.

  A quiet chime echoed in Damien’s mind:

  【Ding! You’ve removed a minor supporting character who would’ve contributed to the protagonist’s romance route. Plot progression successfully disrupted. Vilin Points +100.】

  He let the message slide without much excitement.

  Only 100 points?

  Kicking a creepy side character out of the story should’ve earned more.

  Then again… Leonard Chase was never a real threat. Just another poorly written background character trying to force his way into the spotlight.

  Still, Damien had expected a little bump in Scarlett’s favorability after saving her from all that.

  But… nothing.

  Not a single system notification.

  Maybe the teacher-student boundary made things more complicated. Or maybe…

  Did she get the wrong idea?

  Was the warning he gave too harsh? Did she see him as a dangerous delinquent now?

  Damien considered all of that for a moment before shrugging it off. Whatever the case—Leonard was done.

  He wouldn’t be showing up with flowers again. That subplot had been permanently shut down.

  Being the vilin had its perks. One threat, and the entire path forward changed.

  If Ethan Bke had been the one to step in?

  Leonard Chase would’ve come back with more guys, more drama, more plot.

  But Damien?

  He got things done. Clean. Final. Efficient.

  Scarlett finally exhaled and sat down, clearly processing the whole thing.

  She’d been fending off Leonard Chase for months—polite rejections, firm refusals, and even blunt shut-downs. Nothing worked.

  The man had started lingering after school, dropping unwanted compliments, and now?

  Showing up in her office during off-hours?

  Unacceptable.

  For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe again.

  And she had Damien Westbrook to thank for it—even if his method had left her more than a little shaken.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Vaughn. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”

  Damien Westbrook’s calm assurance echoed in the now-quiet staff office.

  Scarlett—exhaled softly. “That man’s been pestering me for weeks now. Thank you, Damien. I really mean it.”

  “No need to thank me.” Damien fshed a charismatic smile. “It’s a man’s job to protect women.”

  “Man?” she arched an eyebrow with a teasing tone. “Aren’t you still a little too young for that title?”

  “I’m eighteen, Miss Vaughn,” Damien countered smoothly. “Not a kid anymore.”

  For a moment, Scarlett Vaughn looked at him more carefully. That sharp jawline, those mesmerizing eyes… and something deeper. A hint of burden. Of experience beyond his years.

  She found herself staring longer than she meant to before she quickly looked away.

  What am I doing?

  “I suppose I’ll stop calling you a brat,” she muttered, slightly flustered. “You win. You’re a man.”

  She gave him a sideways gnce. “Still… what you said to Coach Chase earlier was intense. I almost thought you meant it.”

  Damien chuckled. “Come on, Miss Vaughn. Me? Hire someone to break a teacher’s legs? I was bluffing. You know me—I’m a model student.”

  She gave him an approving nod. But her eyes remained thoughtful.

  Then Damien added, his tone more serious now, “That guy—Coach Chase—he’s not done. I saw the way he looked at you before he left. He might try something again. Wait for you after school. Follow you home.”

  Scarlett’s expression shifted immediately.

  Coach Leonard Chase had followed her a few times before. Nothing overt, but enough to give her that creeping, uncomfortable feeling.

  Damien stepped closer, his voice low. “From now on, after night study, I’ll walk you home. You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that alone.”

  “I—alright,” she said after a pause. “Just until this blows over.”

  Despite being their teacher, Scarlett was still young. Only a few years older than her students. Her tough cssroom persona? Just a mask to keep control. Underneath, she was kind-hearted—and right now, genuinely anxious.

  —

  Back in the cssroom, Damien returned at a casual pace.

  Students were in their seats, absorbed in revision.

  He pulled out a textbook and flipped through it, putting on the act of focused study. In reality, he was navigating his system interface.

  Vilin Points: 900

  Just enough for a lucky draw.

  “Let’s roll,” he muttered.

  The virtual roulette spun rapidly in his mind. Tick—tick—tick—

  [Ding! Congratutions, Host! Luck is off the charts! You’ve drawn: Grandmaster-Level Calligraphy and Painting Copying Skill. Value: 1000 Vilin Points.]

  Damien raised an eyebrow. “Copying art and calligraphy? What kind of reward is this?”

  Still, he confirmed the usage.

  A wave of subtle precision flowed through Damien Westbrook’s limbs as the system's test prize settled into his mind. His fingers tingled faintly, as if itching to hold a brush or pen.

  This was the effect of his newest acquisition: Grandmaster-Level Calligraphy and Painting Duplication.

  He flexed his hand slightly, already feeling the difference. He could now replicate any handwritten note, signature, or artwork with nearly perfect accuracy—down to the faintest line stroke or brush flick.

  Not just calligraphy... but handwriting too.

  And that? That had real potential.

  At first, he considered using it to forge antique artwork and sell them to collectors. But he dismissed the thought just as fast.

  Too much risk. Too little gain. He didn’t need the money.

  But forged notes, letters, or school forms?

  Now that was a different story entirely.

  Smirking, Damien opened his updated status panel:

  [Host: Damien Westbrook]

  [Combat Power: 89]

  [Charm: 268]

  [Vilin Aura: 179]

  [Vilin Points: 400]

  [Skills: Grandmaster-Level Calligraphy & Painting Duplication]

  At st, the “Skills” section wasn’t empty.

  Across the room, Ethan Bke wasn’t in such a good mood.

  Although he’d earned the 6,000 reward and paid off his debts, the tension between him and Chen Zeke hadn’t completely vanished.

  “Hey, about the other day…” Ethan said quietly, gncing at his chubby friend. “I got hot-headed. You’re not still mad, right?”

  Chen Zeke didn’t respond. He just stared bnkly at his textbook.

  Ethan grimaced.

  He could tell—Zeke was still pissed about the way he’d shoved him. And if not for the disciplinary strike hanging over Ethan’s head, that “shove” might’ve turned into a full-on beatdown.

  Chen Zeke knew it, too. He’d always known Ethan had a short fuse. That wasn’t news.

  What stung was that Ethan hadn’t even thought twice before turning on him.

  “Dude, I said I’m sorry,” Ethan muttered, irritation starting to surface. “Still holding a grudge over a girl? Seriously?”

  Chen Zeke still didn’t answer.

  Whatever. Let the stubborn fool sulk.

  Ethan turned away and let his gaze drift across the cssroom—until it nded on Aria Lane.

  That long, silky hair. That elegant posture. Even the back of her head looked like it belonged in a perfume ad.

  He clenched his jaw.

  Wen Jing is a dead end. Aria’s the one I want.

  And he was done waiting.

  His eyes shifted to Wen Jing, seated beside Aria.

  Ethan leaned over and spped a hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

  “I’m gonna go ask Wen Jing to swap seats with you. That way you get your shot—and I get mine.”