I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 137: Self Depreciation

Tension gripped the air like an iron chain tightening around the throats of every student present.

The weight of Mia's icy glare pressed down upon them, her promise of disciplinary action hanging over their heads like an executioner's blade.

Leon swallowed hard, his breath uneven.

He had been the one closest to the chaos, the one who had stepped forward in an attempt to stop the fight—yet now, he was first in line to explain himself.

Though no one knew exactly what punishment awaited them, the possibilities raced through their minds—suspension from classes, demotion to Wyrd Class, and the most terrifying of all… expulsion.

For every student present, regardless of status—whether a noble or one of the Empire's prodigies—expulsion was the one fate they could not afford.

Each had entered the Academy with a goal, a dream, a future they refused to abandon.

Leon steadied himself, his thoughts racing.

'I have done nothing wrong. I only interfered to stop the fight. Teacher Mia will understand this.'

He took a deep breath, preparing to speak—to defend himself—to justify his actions.

But just as the words reached his lips—

A strangled sound shattered the silence.

"Pfft! Pfft! Keuk!"

The strange noise echoed through the space, cutting through the rigid atmosphere like a blade slicing silk.

Every student instinctively turned their heads, their expressions flickering between confusion and disbelief.

Even Mia—with all her commanding presence—slowly turned, her gaze shifting toward the source of the disruption.

And there—standing behind her—was Adlet.

His hand was clamped over his mouth, his shoulders shaking violently, struggling to contain whatever had overtaken him.

It was laughter.

Through the frozen air, through the suffocating dread hanging over the students—Adlet was laughing.

At all of them. At the absurdity of it all.

Even though Adlet's crimson gaze carried its usual intensity, the slight tremor in his shoulders betrayed him.

He was struggling—barely suppressing his laughter, his amusement leaking through despite the icy atmosphere surrounding him.

Mia had excluded him when she cast her freezing spell, ignoring him entirely.

Unlike the others, Adlet had been far away from the chaos—he had merely stood apart, arms crossed, watching with keen interest.

So, she hadn't even considered him part of the problem.

But now—he was the only one smiling.

Mia's sharp voice cut through the tense silence. "Would you mind telling me, Student Adlet, what do you find so funny?"

Even without raising her tone, the lack of patience in her voice was unmistakable—she wasn't in the mood for mockery.

Slowly, Adlet removed his hand from his mouth, exhaling deeply. Yet his smirk remained, the corners of his lips twitching, barely concealing the enjoyment dancing in his expression.

Mia's patience wore thin as she watched him.

Then, he spoke—his tone rich with amusement.

"What is there not funny in this scenario, Teacher Mia? Watching the students of the Aether Class scramble like mutts over a piece of bone—it's quite the spectacle."

His finger lifted, pointing directly at Lilia's hands.

Mia's gaze followed his gesture, her sharp eyes landing on —the book held in the hands of Student Lilia.

It was not hard for her to understand that it was the prize that had turned the most talented students of the Empire into desperate fighters.

Mia's her voice dropped colder, sharper—cutting through the quiet.

"Everyone was fighting over an Art Manual?"

The moment Mia's words settled in the air, an intense wave of frustration surged through the main characters.

Their gazes sharpened, locking onto Adlet, their expressions lined with irritation and disbelief.

This was supposed to be their chance to explain—to justify their actions before Mia's authority weighed down on them.

Yet before they could even utter a single word, Adlet had already spoken, pouring oil onto the fire, fueling Mia's growing disappointment.

Sensing the rising tension, Leon stepped forward, attempting to intervene. His voice was calm, seeking to de-escalate the situation. "Teacher Mia, it's not—"

But before he could finish—

Adlet's voice cut through, commanding in presence, effortlessly overpowering Leon's words.

"What I also find truly amusing is the fact that none of them even know what this Art Manual is for."

The casual remark carried weight, slicing through their irritation—because in that instant, realization dawned upon them all.

They had fought.

They had clashed weapons, expended Mana and Aura, drawn steel against one another.

And yet—not one of them had stopped to consider what the manual actually was.

A moment of stunned silence filled the air.

Lilia's gaze fell to the book in her hands, fingers tightening slightly around its edges.

But before she could even attempt to examine it, a force ripped it from her grasp, sending it through the air.

The manual landed smoothly in Mia's palm, her fingers closing around it with measured precision.

A quiet tension filled the hall as she examined the name of manual, her expression unreadable.

However, the Manual had No title. No identifying marks.

Yet—the mana flow within the book told her everything she needed to know.

A Tier 1 Art Manual.

Mia's cold gaze lifted, sweeping across the students before her.

Disappointment etched deeply into her features.

"It truly is an astonishment that the geniuses from around the World fought over a Tier 1, No-Name Art Manual."

Her tone wasn't raised—but the words cut through them with brutal precision.

Adlet's voice echoed,

"A Barbarian's Way for Mass Masculinity and Bulk Muscle Growth. If you are weak, feel insecure about your body…"

Mia's head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing in anger.

"What are you spouting, Student Adlet?"

She had no idea what he was trying to do—but then her gaze followed the direction he was facing.

He was simply reading.

"Didn't you say the manual was unnamed?" Adlet turned slightly, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "I was just reading the description written here. The name of the Art Manual is *'Mass Muscle Technique.'"'

Then—silence.

"... "

"... "

"... "

"... "

An unspoken horror settled upon the main characters, their expressions flickering between disbelief and deep humiliation.

Isolde, Elara, Lilia, and Lyssa felt an immediate wave of self-depreciation, the shame burning through their initial confidence.

They had thrown themselves into battle over what they believed to be a precious art, fighting mercilessly.

And now?

It turned out to be a body enhancing technique meant for males.

Meanwhile, Gideon, Leon, and Varnok—each already possessing physically refined bodies—were no better off.

They had fought just as fiercely. And no matter how much they wished to deny it, the proof was undeniable.

They had all competed for an Art they didn't need.

And Teacher Mia herself was not far.

Her usual authoritative presence faltered, her eyes lingering on the manual in her hand, her mind scrambling between two equally absurd realities—

Did the female students genuinely fight for art specifically made for males?

Or worse—did the Empire's top male warriors truly lack confidence in their own bodies.

And then—perhaps the worst realization of all—

It was an External Art.

The chaos, the weapons drawn, the mana cast—all for an External Tier 1 bodybuilding technique.

The intense fight over such a piece of Art.

The irony was too much to bear.

And Ashok was enjoying every second of it.

However the Main Characters in their state also had a moment of realization which struck like a blade.

Every main character's gaze which had been filled with a sense of shame now burned with frustration, their locking onto Ashok—the orchestrator of their humiliation, the one who had played them from the very start.

First, he was one who pretended to be shocked when the art was taken right before his eyes giving a sense of massive loss.

Then he was also the very one who compared them dogs and now finally revealing the description of the manual.

They all have been fooled by him. Yet, as their anger intensified, Ashok remained unshaken.

Not a flinch. Not a twitch of hesitation.

After all—what could they possibly do to him now?

Mia, ever perceptive, wasn't one to overlook the details.

Her sharp eyes darted between Ashok and the shelf, tracing the pattern of events that had unraveled within the last hour.

The way Adlet had lingered near the shelf where the manual should have been.

The way every single student was now glaring at him, their expressions lined with frustration and understanding.

One look was all Mia needed—she connected the pieces instantly.

She now somewhat understood what had truly happened in this place.

Under the watchful eyes of every competitor, Ashok reached for the second manual, his movements slow yet deliberate.

Without hesitation, he spoke.

"I have picked the manual I needed, so I shall take my leave, Teacher Mia."

And just like that—he turned and left.

No explanation. No justification.

He had won.

As he strode away, passing the towering shelves of the Weapon Arts Section, the truth settled harshly upon the remaining competitors.

This had been his original target from the very start.

His earlier shock, his deliberate reactions, his mockery during the first exchange—it had all been an act.

He had never truly cared about the manual they had fought over.

He had simply let them tear each other apart, feeding into their greed.

Mia's sharp words followed him lightly, lingering in the air as he walked toward the In-Charge of the Art and Spell Hall.

Yet Ashok did not pause.

He did not care about what sort of punishment Mia handed down to the others.

For him—this was just a act of entertainment.

And now that it was over, there was no reason to waste another second in this place.

His entertainment had ended.

And he was moving on.

...

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