The Mob Character Who Woke Up!-Chapter 75: Actual First Day at Academy! (1)

Kaizen stood before the towering oak door of Class 1-A with his hand hovering uncertainly over the brass knob, seriously contemplating all the terrible life choices that had led him to this specific moment of inevitable doom.

He could already hear the distinct, high energy sounds of shonen camaraderie vibrating through the thick wood, with Leo's boisterous laughter echoing like a foghorn and Klaus's low, aristocratic murmurs drifting through like ominous background music in a horror movie.

'If I walk in there right now, I will definitely be swarmed by those two.'

'Leo will try to hug me with enough bone crushing force to crack my ribs, and Klaus will probably try to measure my skull circumference for his weird demonic research.'

'Both scenarios involve completely unwanted attention.'

He decided that kind of overwhelming heat was absolutely not needed at eight in the morning, so he resolved to execute a tactical retreat and wait patiently in the hallway until the teacher arrived to enforce a ceasefire.

That way when the professor showed up, Leo and Klaus would not have the opportunity to change their seats just to sit next to him.

Considering their aggressive temperaments, that was exactly what was going to happen if he gave them the chance.

He took one confident step backward, ready to blend into the wall and become a background texture once again.

Thump.

His back collided hard with something solid, warm, and smelling ridiculously expensive like imported cologne.

Kaizen turned around in confusion, wondering which wall had suddenly grown a heartbeat, only to find himself staring directly into the chest of a very disgruntled student.

He looked up slowly. And then up some more.

Standing there, flanked by his two loyal lackeys, was Lance Wind.

The Trash Young Master looked down at Kaizen with eyes that held all the warmth of a reptilian predator staring at a particularly annoying insect. He was not speaking or shouting. He was just radiating an aura of pure annoyance so potent it practically distorted the air around him.

"Ah," Kaizen said eloquently.

He recognized that specific look immediately. It was the look of a man who had woken up on the wrong side of a silk bedspread and decided to make it everyone else's problem.

"Sorry about that," Kaizen said with an awkward, apologetic smile while stepping to the side to clear the path. "I genuinely did not see you there. I was just inspecting the door frame. Very sturdy construction. Good quality wood."

He tried desperately to diffuse the situation with his harmless NPC energy, hoping Lance would just scoff dismissively and walk past him like he was completely invisible.

But fate, as usual, had a completely different script in mind.

Without a single word of warning, without a dramatic shout, and without even the slightest change in his bored expression, Lance's hand moved.

It was a complete blur. It was faster than Kaizen's pathetic F-Rank eyes could possibly track.

CRACK.

A fist coated in crackling mana connected squarely with the bridge of Kaizen's nose.

The impact sent a shockwave of pure pain through his skull. It was not a fight. It was a physics demonstration on what happens when an F-Rank body meets a D-Rank fist.

Kaizen's head snapped back violently like a broken doll, his vision flashing bright white before turning into a swimming sea of black spots. His legs turned to complete jelly, and he crumbled to the cold floor like a sack of potatoes, with blood immediately gushing from his nose to completely ruin his freshly washed uniform.

He lay there on the polished marble, his brain desperately rebooting, trying to understand why the ceiling was spinning in circles.

[HP: -17]

[HP Remaining: 3 / 20]

[Status: Severe Concussion. Broken Nose. Bleeding.]

"Filthy peasant," one of the lackeys sneered while stepping forward to loom over Kaizen's twitching body. "You actually dare to block Lord Lance's path with your cheap, worthless existence?"

"You should be grateful he even acknowledged you," the other lackey spat while kicking Kaizen's backpack aside roughly. "Most people would be completely incinerated for standing in his shadow. Consider a broken nose a generous gift of mercy, you absolute waste of oxygen."

"And you should seriously reconsider your choice of friends," the first lackey added with a nasty grin. "Hanging out with that peasant hero Leo has given you an inflated sense of worth. Remember your proper place in the hierarchy, trash."

Kaizen could not respond at all because his mouth tasted like copper and his brain was currently stuck in a buffer stage.

Through the haze of pain and watering eyes, he saw Lance Wind standing over him.

Lance did not look angry or upset. He looked completely bored. He looked like he had just stepped in dog shit.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief made of expensive silk that probably cost more than Kaizen's internal organs on the black market. He wiped his knuckles slowly and methodically, as if he had contaminated himself by touching Kaizen's inferior face.

Then, without any ceremony, he dropped the bloodstained handkerchief on top of Kaizen like he was literal garbage.

Lance stepped over Kaizen's legs with zero concern.

He twisted the door knob, pushed the heavy oak door open with one hand, and walked into Class 1-A without looking back even once.

His lackeys shot Kaizen one last disgusted look before following their master inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

BOOM.

Silence returned to the hallway, save for the wet sound of Kaizen desperately trying to inhale through a broken nose.

"Ow," Kaizen groaned while clutching his face. "I just healed from the last beating. I literally just got out of the hospital two days ago."

A shadow fell over him again. Kaizen flinched hard, preparing for round two.

But this time, gentle hands grabbed his shoulders.

"Hey! Are you okay? Can you hear me at all?"

It was a student who had been watching from down the hall. A plain looking guy with glasses and a look of terrified concern on his face. He had clearly waited until the terrifying nobles were completely gone before rushing over.

"I saw everything," the student whispered while helping Kaizen sit up. "That was absolutely brutal. Come on, let me help you to the infirmary. Again."

Kaizen let himself be dragged up slowly, his head lolling to the side.

"Nurse Jenny is going to think I am doing this on purpose just to see her," Kaizen mumbled through the blood.

The helpful student half carried, half dragged him down the hallway.

"What is your name?" Kaizen asked weakly.

"Marcus. Marcus Reed. I am in Class 1-C."

"Thanks Marcus. You are a good person."

"Do not mention it. Nobody should get treated like that."

As they walked away, Kaizen felt something wet on his cheeks that was not blood.

Tears.

He was crying.

Not from the physical pain, though that was bad enough.

But from the humiliation of it all.

Getting punched for existing. Getting called trash. Getting treated like he was worth less than dirt.

And the worst part? He could not do anything about it. He was too weak. Too powerless.

Lance was D-Rank. Kaizen was F-Rank.

That was the reality of this world.

Strength was everything.

"I hate this place," Kaizen whispered.

Marcus just nodded and kept walking.

Behind them, the door to Class 1-A remained closed, and inside, Lance Wind was already sitting down like nothing had happened at all.