"Master Kahn, who are those two people?" asked the lackey with a swollen face—Kahn's earlier slap had been far from gentle.
"I'm not sure, but they have some connection with the headmaster. It's best not to provoke them," Kahn replied, his eyes flickering with caution. "Stay away from him in the future. We ruined his plans this time, and he might hold a grudge."
Kahn was clever enough to know whom he could afford to offend and whom he couldn’t.
He hadn’t forgotten how, before the entrance test, Xia Lun had handed an admission letter to Senior Delyan at the school gates.
He remembered Xia Lun’s expression—confident and composed—so he doubted the burned letter had been a fake.
Moreover, after enrolling, Kahn had deliberately checked Xia Lun’s living arrangements and discovered that neither he nor the two girls with him stayed in the student dormitories.
This person had significant ties to the headmaster—someone not to be trifled with lightly.
And for the headmaster to grant him such privileges… Kahn couldn’t even begin to guess Xia Lun’s true identity.
As for that little nobody, Mian? Just a commoner. No matter how talented he was, Kahn had the backing of the mighty Stark Family. Alone, Mian could never pose a threat.
Even if he were truly angered, crushing him before he could grow stronger would be as easy as squashing an ant. The world wasn’t like those theatrical scripts where underdogs always triumphed.
Kahn saw things clearly—lessons he’d learned from the deceit and intrigue of his family since childhood.
---
Restroom.
Mian slowly picked himself up from the floor, trembling in pain, not daring to look at the two figures before him.
The bullies had been careful—their fists and kicks avoided his face, leaving no visible marks.
"Th… thank you," Mian muttered before turning to leave.
"Wait." Xia Lun handed him a recovery potion—one Aina had secretly slipped to him.
It was a common type, nothing particularly valuable.
After a brief hesitation, Mian took it and drank it in one gulp.
His complexion improved almost immediately.
"I’m really grateful, Mr. Xia Lun… I’ll find a way to pay you back for this potion."
Mian remembered Xia Lun’s name—it was hard not to, given how distinctive it was.
"Why don’t you fight back?" Xia Lun asked flatly, his expression unreadable.
"I…" Mian clenched his fists, the fire of youth burning in him, but then he sighed and relaxed. "My parents are just ordinary laborers. We can’t afford to provoke nobles… But it’s fine. This is Olifant Academy—they won’t go too far. I just need to endure it."
"Is that so?" Xia Lun narrowed his eyes but said nothing more.
"I… I should get to class. Thank you for your help, Mr. Xia Lun." Mian hurried off.
Once he was gone, Aina draped herself over Xia Lun again.
"This is why I despise humans," she whispered in his ear. "They torment the weak to fill the emptiness inside them. Among demons, unless dignity is insulted or interests threatened, strong individuals who act like this would be mocked by everyone."
Xia Lun remained silent.
"So, what will you do, my hero?"
Aina kept her hands to herself this time, unlike earlier in the stall.
"What would you do?" Xia Lun countered.
"Annoying insects should just be crushed," Aina mused, her eyes glinting. "If I were to intervene, I might slaughter that little lord’s precious Stark Family right in front of him—wipe out his entire support system."
"That’s too extreme."
"But the simplest solution, no?"
"That’s not the right way."
"Then you’ll have to keep watching me, my hero." Aina cupped Xia Lun’s face. "If your gaze ever wavers, I might do exactly that… and it’ll all be your fault."
"I’ll keep a close eye on you, Demon King." Xia Lun sighed. "But this isn’t something I should handle directly. Let’s leave it to Wolund. I trust he’ll deal with it properly."
They stepped out of the restroom.
Liyana, waiting outside, gave them a strange look before quickly schooling her expression.
"You two took so long—wait, no, that was too fast." She elbowed Xia Lun teasingly, her face practically asking, Are you even capable?
Xia Lun rolled his eyes.
"A few kids went into the restroom earlier. You weren’t seen, were you?" Liyana grinned. "Oh, right—even if you were, it’s fine. Aina knows memory-erasing magic…"
Aina’s hand glowed with a faint light.
Liyana paled. "Don’t—"
The light sank into her mind.
Her expression went blank. A moment later, she swayed, rubbing her temples. "Ugh… why do I suddenly have a headache? Ah, Xia Lun, why are we standing outside the restroom? Where were we going again?"
---
Mida yawned and slowly woke up.
Sleeping in human form occasionally was surprisingly comfortable.
An unfamiliar ceiling greeted her.
Normally, she never saw ceilings when she opened her eyes.
Then she remembered—she was in that little girl’s house, the one with the delicious sausages.
Mida walked out of the room.
Anana and her parents were already awake, busy repairing the wall Anlier had collapsed.
"Ah, Goddess of Snow!"
Anana called out the moment she spotted Mida.
Her parents immediately set down their tools and approached.
"Thank you so much, Goddess. You saved Anlier’s life…" her mother said tearfully.
Mida disliked long-winded gratitude and cut her off. "Sausages."
"Of course! I’ll deliver them to the Sacred Peak every week from now on," Anlier promised nervously.
Satisfied, Mida nodded and turned to leave.
Anlier hurried after her to see her off.
Outside, the stench of blood hung thick in the air.
Lake Village had its own way of handling things. After Mida had casually disposed of the strongest attacker in those gray-yellow robes last night, the remaining intruders hadn’t escaped the hunters.
Anlier, once revived, had rejoined the fight immediately.
Without Boer, the rest stood no chance.
"Are they all dead?" Mida suddenly asked.
"No, Goddess. We kept two alive," Anlier answered respectfully.

] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...

world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...