A crisp bell rang.
A woman with golden hair tied in a bun entered.
Her fair face had a charming flush, and her deep blue eyes were as mesmerizing as stars.
A simple black dress couldn't hide her devilish curves as her high heels clicked across the floor.
Every eye was glued to her.
Ninth graders were at that hormone-driven, precocious age.
In an open country like America, many at this age were already "experienced."
This gorgeous teacher had a stern expression, her face tight and professional, projecting an aura of "don't come near me." This was Dia, the chemistry teacher and the school's most famous beauty.
She was the dream girl of every male student.
"Class is in session!" No nonsense.
Dia began her lecture.
She was strict and old-fashioned, but her teaching was flawless.
Once, Ryden had been a fanboy too—and he still was! But unlike his classmates, he was a man of ambition.
A real man should get rich first, then talk about feelings.
And why settle for one? If one wasn't enough, he'd take a crowd!
The class was silent.
The girls looked on with envy, while the boys were lost in their fantasies.
Ryden used to just stare because she was eye candy, but now he had a plan.
While others were just thinking, he was ready to act.
He'd marry her, and then he could not only look, but...heh heh.
He turned to look at two boys in the fourth row.
Their faces were covered in teenage acne, but where were their hands? Why weren't they on the desk?
Were they cold? Why the rubbing? Was it friction for heat? Was the room that cold? Why did the two creeps look so satisfied?
Realizing what was happening, Ryden shuddered in disgust.
Suddenly, his "rascal" nature resurfaced.
He secretly pulled a leather glove from his bag.
The palm was lined with electromagnets.
At close range, it could knock someone out—a perfect anti-harasser tool for women.
But that wasn't the point.
In the center was a miniature electromagnetic launcher with two tiny steel balls.
He hid his left hand under his right and clicked a button.
A burst of current created an electromagnetic pulse.
He aimed his palm at the two "friction-loving" students.
The steel balls shot out at a speed invisible to the naked eye, arcing perfectly through the air to land right on the "target zones" of the two boys.
"Ouch!"
"Ah!"
A scream and a groan rang out simultaneously! Normally, this wouldn't matter, but Dia's class was always dead silent.
The strange noises drew everyone's attention.
Dia looked at them curiously.
"Rocca, Bant, is something wrong? If you're unwell, go to the nurse."
"N-no, Teacher, I'm fine," said Rocca, a tall, chubby white boy.
His face was beet red.
He didn't know why, but it felt like someone had slapped him...there.
He was so startled he nearly peed himself; his pants felt damp.
Bant, a scrawny mixed-race kid, lowered his head.
He looked even worse; he had been "in the zone" when the shock hit, and he actually did pee his pants.
He felt nothing down there now—just cold numbness.
The students around them wrinkled their noses at the sudden smell of a restroom.
The two boys wanted to vanish, their faces redder than a monkey's butt.
"If you're fine, listen to the lesson. Let's look at the last page: the elemental composition of the human body." Dia didn't press the issue.
Her focus was purely on education.
Beside him, Terrence was stifling a laugh.
He gave Ryden a thumbs-up under the table.
Only this science whiz—this total rascal with a streak of justice—could pull that off.
Terrence was grateful for Ryden; in this era, Black people faced heavy discrimination.
Rocca and Bant were the grade's bullies.
Rocca's father was a high-ranking officer and his mother was in government; he was a "nepo baby" who loved tormenting others.
From his 15-year-old, 200-pound frame, he was the definition of "bloated with privilege."
Ryden tucked the glove back into his bag as if nothing had happened.
It was just a whim, but if Rocca found out, there'd be hell to pay.
Strength-wise, Ryden was no match for that tub of lard.
He glanced at the teacher's devilish figure under her dress.
Her professional status only added to her charm.
He wouldn't be a normal man if his heart didn't race.
Starting from scratch was hard, so he needed to pick up the pace.
At least he needed a goal! First, he'd lose that "shameful virgin hat!" No, he meant he'd get rich and study.
Yes, study!
In American schools, an hour-long class was split between theory and lab work.
It required hands-on skill.
Students usually worked in groups with alcohol lamps, test tubes, and various powders.
If you were bold, you could try making something "explosive."
While Ryden's group was making detergent, the "bad student" Rocca was roasting a sausage over an alcohol lamp.
He had turned chemistry into a BBQ!
"Teacher, if we add some 'Element X' to Solution No. 3 and raise the temp to 3,000 degrees, could we simulate micro-nuclear fusion?"
Ryden suddenly had a flash of insight into how Tony Stark built the reactor.
His group mates immediately jumped back.
"Ryden, what are you doing? You want to blow us to the sky?"
"Hey man, talk it out. Put the test tube down first," Terrence said nervously, used to Ryden's dangerous experiments.
Dia pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses and thought for a moment.
She didn't mind the "dangerous" question.
Her focused expression gave her an intellectual charm, while her dress seemed to hug her curves even tighter.
Two extreme vibes blended perfectly in her.
The boys in class were gulping; they were clearly smitten.
She truly was the dream girl of thousands!
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