# Chapter 4: A Gentleman's Violence
I woke up to the taste of dirt.
My cheek was pressed against the cold, loamy soil of the greenhouse floor. For a moment, panic seized me. Had I died? Was the fruit poisonous?
Then, I took a breath.
It didn't rattle in my chest. It didn't burn. The air flowed into my lungs deep and clean, expanding my chest without the familiar sharp stab of pain I had grown used to in this body.
I sat up, dusting the soil from my uniform. The world looked... sharper. The colors of the wilting plants were more vivid. I could hear the scuttle of a beetle three rows away.
[System Alert]
[Biological Restructuring Complete.]
[Mana Core Status: Stabilized.]
[Rank: E -> D (Low)]
[Constitution: 4 -> 9]
[Mana Capacity: Increased by 200%]
I clenched my fist. I wasn't strong—not compared to the monsters in this school—but I was no longer an invalid. I was a functional human being.
I checked the time on the System clock. 5:30 AM. Classes started at 8:00.
"Time to go," I whispered.
I slipped out of the greenhouse, feeling light on my feet. The walk back to the Omega Dorm was effortless. I didn't wheeze. I didn't stumble.
Back in my room, I stripped off the dirty uniform and stood before the cracked mirror. The pale, sickly complexion was gone, replaced by a healthy, porcelain fairness. My muscles, though still lean, felt wired with potential energy.
I showered in the cold water of the communal bath, washing away the sweat and dirt. As I dressed in a fresh uniform, buttoning the high collar of the black and gold coat, I looked at my reflection.
Valerius Thorne stared back. But the eyes were different. They weren't the eyes of a victim anymore. They were the eyes of a hunter waiting for the trap to spring.
***
"Combat Theory 101."
The lecture hall was an amphitheater of stone, the seats rising steeply around a central sand pit.
I sat in the back row, legs crossed, chin resting on my hand. To my left, Caelum was scribbling furiously in a notebook, looking terrified. To my right, a group of noble girls were giggling and glancing at Prince Dante, who was sleeping with his feet up on the desk in the front row.
The instructor, a scarred veteran named Commander Kaelen, paced the sand pit like a caged tiger.
"Magic is not a toy!" Kaelen barked, his voice echoing. "Many of you think because you have a fancy bloodline or a high mana count, you are warriors. You are wrong. You are batteries."
He stopped, scanning the room.
"In a real fight, a goblin with a rusty shiv can kill an Archmage if the Mage is too slow to cast. Today, we test your instincts. No spells above Tier 1. Physical reinforcement is allowed."
Kaelen pulled a scroll from his belt. "I have randomized the pairings."
My heart rate spiked. Random meant danger.
"First match: Caelum vs. Guntram."
Guntram grinned, cracking his knuckles. Caelum looked like he wanted to vomit. The fight went exactly as expected: Guntram charged like a bull. Caelum panicked, tripped, and accidentally fired a [Flash] spell that blinded Guntram, causing the big noble to run face-first into the wall.
"Winner: Caelum," Kaelen sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Though that was pathetic."
"Next match: Valerius Thorne vs. Lucas Vane."
The room went quiet.
Lucas Vane. A C-Rank Wind Mage. He was one of Guntram's lackeys—a petty, vindictive guy who specialized in "Wind Blade" magic. Fast. Sharp. Dangerous.
I stood up, smoothing my coat.
[Mission Issued: The First Spar]
[Objective: Defeat Lucas Vane without revealing your repaired core.]
[Constraint: Do not use offensive magic.]
[Reward: 100 Villain Points.]
"No offensive magic?" I thought, descending the stairs. "System, you really enjoy setting me up to fail."
I stepped into the sand pit. Lucas was already there, twirling a wooden training staff. He grinned, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"Don't worry, Lord Valerius," Lucas sneered, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "I'll go easy. I'll only break a few ribs."
I didn't draw a weapon. I simply stood there, hands clasped behind my back.
"Are you ready?" Kaelen asked, looking at me with a frown. "Where is your weapon, Thorne?"
"I do not need one for this," I said calmly.
The arrogance in my voice was palpable. The crowd gasped.
"Arrogant trash," Lucas spat.
"Begin!" Kaelen shouted.
Lucas moved instantly. He didn't use physical reinforcement; he channeled wind mana into his legs, launching himself at me with blinding speed. He swung the staff at my head.
In the game, Lucas had a "tell." Before he attacked, he always inhaled sharply through his nose.
*Sniff.*
There.
I didn't block. I didn't run. I simply took one step to the left.
*Whoosh.*
The staff cut through the empty air where my head had been a second ago.
Lucas stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward. He spun around, face red. "Lucky dodge!"
He attacked again. A horizontal sweep aimed at my knees.
I waited until the last millisecond. I hopped slightly, letting the staff pass under my boots, and landed gracefully.
"Is that it?" I asked, looking bored. "You are quite slow, Lucas. Is the wind asleep today?"
"Shut up!" Lucas roared.
He abandoned the rules. Mana flared around his hand—green, sharp energy. He was casting [Wind Cutter]. A Tier 1 spell, but at close range, it could slice skin deep.
"Die!" He thrust his hand forward.
I didn't dodge this time. I stepped *into* his guard.
My D-Rank agility wasn't superhuman, but my perception was S-Rank. I saw the mana gathering in his palm.
I reached out with my left hand, grabbing his wrist. With my right hand, I pressed two fingers hard into the nerve cluster just under his armpit.
It wasn't magic. It was biology.
"Gah!" Lucas screamed, his arm going numb. The [Wind Cutter] fizzled out, the mana dispersing harmlessly.
I didn't let go. I used his momentum against him, pivoting on my heel and sweeping his leg.
Lucas hit the sand hard. The impact knocked the wind out of him.
Before he could recover, I placed my boot gently on his throat.
"Yield," I said softy.
The arena was dead silent.
I hadn't used a single spell. I hadn't thrown a punch. I had dismantled a C-Rank mage with two steps and a poke.
Lucas stared up at me, terror in his eyes. He couldn't understand what had happened. He tried to speak, but my boot pressed down just enough to cut off his air.
"I... I yield!" he choked out.
I removed my foot and stepped back, dusting invisible lint from my sleeve.
"Winner: Thorne," Kaelen announced, his voice filled with suspicion. He looked at me, his veteran eyes narrowing. He knew that wasn't luck. That was technique.
I walked toward the exit stairs.
[Mission Complete.]
[Reward: 100 Villain Points.]
As I climbed the stairs, I felt eyes on me.
Prince Dante was awake now, watching me with a grin.
Caelum looked awestruck.
But it was the gaze from the shadows that mattered. Seraphina wasn't smiling anymore. She was watching me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. She was taking notes.
I sat back down in my seat, my heart hammering against my ribs, though my face remained a mask of ice.
*That was too close,* I thought. *I need a weapon. A real one.*