The first day of the new semester at St. Helix Academy began with sports cars lined up neatly and paparazzi snapping photos from outside the fence.
As usual, the focus of attention wasn't the building.
But a girl with sharp steps, diamond heels, and a deadly aura of arrogance.
> Nereza Armand.
Heiress of the Armand Group.
The girl who could make someone disappear from social media with just one story.
Or cancel a billion-dollar merger with one word: "boring."
Her smile had been smug since morning.
But suddenly, her gaze caught something that… disrupted the aesthetics.
A young boy.
Standing awkwardly in front of the bulletin board, with a wrinkled shirt hanging out of his pants, a twisted tie, and messy hair like he'd been electrocuted.
His bag was torn at the edge, and his feet... were wearing Crocs.
"Oh my God."
Nereza stopped in the middle of the hallway. "What is that?"
His assistant approached, holding back a laugh. "The new kid, Nereza. Got a scholarship. They say he's an academic genius. But… well, there you go."
"What's his name?" Nereza asked, his face twisted as if he'd smelled something rotten.
> "Elior Reign. From the southern district."
Nereza furrowed his brow. "Why is he just standing there like that? Reading the announcement or… can't read the letters?"
At that moment, Elior dropped the book he was holding.
The book opened on the floor, revealing… a worn-out Naruto comic book laminated with tape.
Nereza nearly vomited from laughing so hard.
"Oh my God... he's really a living NPC."
---
In the elite cafeteria usually filled with conglomerate kids joking about stocks and NFTs, Elior sat alone in the corner. His hands were busy opening a plastic bag. Inside? Cold instant noodles and quail eggs.
Nereza walked by carrying a latte costing 98,000 rupiah from the school café.
She stared at Elior, who was sweating as he opened a cheap plastic bottle.
"Ew," she hissed. "This is an elite school, not a communal kitchen."
But before she could walk away, Elior suddenly stood up—and tripped over his own feet.
His lunch spilled. The quail egg broke. The noodles stuck to Nereza's Gucci shoes.
The entire cafeteria held its breath.
Everyone waited for Nereza to get angry and call the school security guard.
But Elior just stared at his shoes, then looked at Nereza... and smiled stupidly.
> "Sorry, Miss... Your shoes are nice. Are they on sale?"
"Because they seem... really expensive..."
Nereza fell silent.
Not because she was angry—but because she didn't know whether to laugh, feel disgusted, or spit at the guy.
"...Do you know you just stepped on shoes that are more expensive than your house?" she said coldly.
Elior scratched his head. "Oh… yeah. But… I don't have a house, Miss. So I don't know how to compare."
"Oh. My. God."
Nereza even covered her mouth in shock.
This man... has no shame.
But for some reason... he's intriguing.
---
> What Nereza didn't know was...
When night fell, Elior would put on a black suit, open a satellite map, and give instructions through his earpiece:
"Next target... the CEO of Armand Group's subsidiary. It's gotten out of hand."
---
Class 4-E, the quietest room on the second floor.
Where all the scholarship students, transfer students, and "second-class" students are neatly grouped together.
A place that is very... unsuitable for Nereza Armand.
But that morning, Nereza stood in front of the classroom door with a deliberately annoying expression.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat. "I'm lost. Does anyone know where the normal world is?"
The entire class turned to look, including Elior sitting at the back. He was... drawing something in his book. Like a cat. Or a pumpkin. Or... a cat wearing a pumpkin hat?
Nereza walked in with a lazy stride.
"Elior, right?" she greeted him. Her voice was sweet like strawberry poison.
Elior looked up slowly. "Uh... Yes, ma'am."
"Call me Nereza."
She immediately sat down next to Elior without permission. All the students stared, confused—the school queen sitting next to the Crocs-wearing kid?
"So," Nereza said, crossing her legs, "Why are you here at this school? Did you cheat on the national exam?"
Elior chuckled. "No, Miss. I memorized all the textbooks. Even the blank pages."
"Wow. Brilliant," Nereza said sarcastically. "And does your salary even cover buying a proper tie?"
Elior checked his tie. It was upside down.
"Well… but it has memories," he said. "My mother wore it during her job interview."
Nereza almost choked. "You inherited the tie?"
"Yes. Along with a green plastic plate. Now I use it for dinner."
Nereza wanted to laugh, but… her heart felt strange.
This kid was too honest. Too... unconcerned with embarrassment.
But before she could tease him again, Elior looked at her and asked innocently:
> "Nereza, have you ever been in love?"
Nereza fell silent. The question was completely random. But Elior's expression was innocent, showing no intention to mock.
"Me?" Nereza laughed dryly. "Love is for fools."
Elior smiled. This time, his smile… wasn't a foolish one.
> "Maybe."
"Or… for people who know how to make fools their own."
Nereza stared at him for a long time. A few seconds too long.
And for some reason... there was an itch at the back of his neck.
Not because of disgust. But because... there was something about Elior that didn't make sense.
---
That night, in a dark room filled with satellite screens...
Elior leaned back casually, removing his cheap sunglasses.
His face looked sharper. More mature. More... deadly.
"Next target: the school's management head."
He smiled thinly, then pressed the button on his headset.
> "Too many people were staring at Nereza today. Get rid of them slowly."
---
The next morning, a small piece of news began to circulate among the school staff.
> The head of the financial administration division... had disappeared.
Rumor had it that he had been in a single-vehicle accident while on a business trip.
There were no witnesses. There was no CCTV footage. His car was found wrecked at the bottom of a ravine, the GPS completely destroyed.
But for Nereza, that morning was all about one thing:
He was going to meet that idiot from the southern district again.
---
The school hallway was filled with whispers as Nereza walked by. But his eyes immediately searched for one figure who, strangely enough... wasn't sitting at his usual desk.
"Hey," he called out to one of the E-class students. "Where's... Elap or Erol?"
"Elior?" the student asked. "He's been in class since this morning. Sitting at the back. Haven't moved since. Like a statue."
Nereza turned away and stepped inside. And sure enough—Elior was sitting alone, head down, fingers scribbling in his book like someone possessed.
But that wasn't what made Nereza stop.
It was... the drawing he saw on Elior's paper.
There was a sketch of a map.
Complete with coordinates.
And... a sketch of the school.
But everything was drawn like a surveillance diagram.
"What's that?" Nereza muttered, approaching.
"Huh?" Elior quickly closed his book. "This… this is just a doodle, Miss. I like drawing random stuff."
Nereza narrowed her eyes. "Random drawings? That's a school map."
Elior laughed awkwardly. "Well, I once got lost on the way to the bathroom. So I drew it to remember the way... because the men's bathroom and the lab are always mixed up... hehe."
"The lab and the bathroom are mixed up?"
Okay. This guy is really clueless… or…
"By the way, Ms. Nereza," Elior suddenly continued. "I found your book yesterday. It must have fallen when you kicked my egg."
"WHAT?!"
"Oh, I mean... when my noodles spilled yesterday."
He handed her a thick notebook bound in maroon leather.
Nereza furrowed her brow.
That... was her business notebook.
It contained not only her school schedule—but also personal investment notes, secret projects of the Armand Group, and contact codes for foreign executives.
> "Did you open it?"
"No, Miss! I can't read your handwriting. It's like chicken scratch."
Nereza almost laughed, but... her heart started racing.
She snatched the notebook. "You're lying, aren't you?"
Elior just smiled... a stupid smile that made Nereza both annoyed and suspicious at the same time.
---
In another room, that night...
Someone wearing black gloves opened a laptop, replaying the hidden CCTV footage from the teachers' room.
A voice from the headset whispered softly:
> "The target has been diverted. The fake financial report has been sent. Armand Group lost 3% of its shares this morning."
And behind the screen, someone wrote down a name.
> Nereza Armand.
Status: Approaching.
---
"Why does he never seem nervous?"
That question swirled around in Nereza's head all day.
Even when she told two of her gang members to "playfully" knock Elior's books down in the hallway, the guy just chuckled and said:
> "Wow, my books can walk by themselves, huh, Miss?"
Crazy.
This guy isn't just poor. He's also immune to shame.
And unfortunately... the more Nereza teased him, the more she wanted to know more.
---
That afternoon, Nereza walked to the student council's designated parking lot — and was surprised to see someone cleaning the dust off their car.
With a dishcloth.
Crocs. A tie worn backwards. A scruffy face.
"Elior?"
The guy reflexively stood up straight. "Oh, Miss Nereza! I'm helping the security guard... he said I could get a discount on photocopies if I helped clean the cars here."
"Do you know whose car this is?"
Elior glanced at the Bugatti emblem on the car. "An alien's car?"
Nereza snorted. "It's my car, idiot."
"Oh."
Elior bowed his head slightly. Then suddenly, he wiped the window on Nereza's side gently, carefully, as if touching something precious and delicate.
> "Now it's even shinier, just like you."
Nereza nearly choked.
> Flirty.
Cheap.
But for some reason... there was a small flutter in her chest.
Nereza flipped her hair and pretended to be indifferent. "Next time, use a microfiber cloth. Not the one you used to wipe the noodles this morning."
"Got it, miss."
Elior smiled again. A silly smile.
A smile... that seemed too forced when thought about more deeply.
---
That night...
In a dark room with a single spotlight, Elior stared at his laptop screen.
CCTV footage from the parking lot was played back in slow motion.
> "The primary target has begun initiating conversation. Disdainful attitude increased by 14%. Interest: 27%."
In his hand was a photo of Nereza—torn from an international business newspaper.
A note was written beneath it:
> "Approach. Control. Use."
---
And far away, someone called Elior via an encrypted connection.
"Who's the next target?"
> "Nereza Armand," Elior replied calmly.
"I'll make him love me..."
"...before I destroy everything he has."
Chapter 1 complete