How To Ruin The Original Work (16 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 15
This year’s freshman class assignment for the Magic Department was so exceptional that it was being called “blessed by the goddess Kirellia” among the professors.
There weren’t any children embroiled in intense political rivalries between their families, no overly zealous parents obsessed with their child’s education, nor any imperial royals or high-ranking nobles of comparable status whose presence would make everyone walk on eggshells.
And! There was Nigel As—the student she had personally interviewed herself.
Nigel As had already become famous among the faculty even before enrollment.
No wonder, really—she’d received a perfect score from Professor Cledian, who was notoriously meticulous enough to scrutinize every single detail of an essay!
Though she tried to treat all students equally, regardless of whether it was during class or not, she couldn’t help but feel especially fond of the students assigned to her own department.
Humans are creatures of adaptation—her colleagues, who usually grumbled about department scores being the number one cause of campus incidents, couldn’t hide their smiles whenever their own department won.
At the start of each semester, whenever professors placed bets on which department would win, everyone raised the stakes higher and higher—no professor ever placed a bet on a department that wasn’t their own. Not even the notoriously rigid Professor Cledian!
In such a situation, Heres couldn’t help but feel proud of Nigel—no, it was impossible not to.
For the past few years, whenever she went to the faculty lounge to catch her breath after dealing with yet another incident, she’d inevitably end up listening to her colleagues’ thinly veiled bragging. Because of that, Heres often abandoned her free snacks and headed straight back to her lab.
…But this time was different.
“Did everyone enjoy a delicious dinner?”
Heres pushed open the faculty lounge door wide and stepped inside.
“Heres, you looked like you were dying every day last year—but your face has really lightened up this year!”
“That’s right! Last year, it was rare to even see Professor Heres in the lounge.”
“Oh, come on~ When did I ever do that?”
Heres sat down on the sofa, unable to suppress her smile.
What was this? Had she cast some kind of preservation spell over break? The sofa felt especially plush today.
Drip, drip.
Indeed, this being the Imperial Academy, even the tea leaves were of the finest quality.
Plop! Plop!
In a good mood, she even added two sugar cubes.
“Professor Heres.”
At that moment, a low, expressionless voice called out.
“Guh… Cough, cough… P-Professor Cledian.”
Cledian wordlessly handed her a napkin and sat down across from her.
Heres dabbed the corner of her mouth with the napkin. Even after five years as a professor at Sienia Academy, she still broke out in cold sweat whenever she saw him.
“Back when you were making such a fuss before the entrance ceremony, I couldn’t quite understand—but seeing you today, I finally get it.”
“…Huh?”
Sip.
Cledian drank his tea without a word—no sugar, no milk.
That stuff was seriously bitter if you drank it plain like that…
“Indeed. After seeing her myself today, even I felt a bit envious.”
“…!”
Crunch!
Rone suddenly appeared behind Cledian without a sound and draped an arm over his shoulder while chewing on a sugar cube.
“Remove your hand from me this instant, Rone. I’ll say it again—this is the Academy, not the Knights’ Order. It’s not a place where you can do as you please.”
“You’d think you’d be used to me by now, but you’re still as cold as ever, Professor.”
Rone slowly raised both hands in surrender and plopped down beside Cledian.
“You two… you’re talking about Nigel, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Rone curled her eyes into crescent moons.
“Oh, right! Cledian, didn’t you try convincing Heres’s student today to transfer to the Politics Department?”
“…What?”
“I only mentioned it once because her talent seemed too good to waste—don’t take it too seriously, Heres.”
Do you really think it’s that easy, Professor?
“…Yes.”
If Professor Cledian says not to worry about it, then so be it.
“What a shame—if you’d tried to convince me instead, I’d have transferred to you on the spot.”
Rone leaned her face close to Cledian’s.
Thud.
“Shut your mouth. And don’t act like I’m the only one thinking that, Rone.”
Cledian pushed Rone’s face away without the slightest hesitation, despite it being just inches from his own.
“Don’t tell me… Professor Rone is also…?”
“Yep. The kid’s got a sharp mind—perfect material for a strategist, if you ask me.”
“I heard she turned you down right to your face, though.”
“Why are you acting like it’s so different for you, Cledian?”
“At least she didn’t outright say she had no interest in politics, the way she answered you.”
“People’s interests can fade over time, you know. Oh—and before you get the wrong idea, Dean, that wasn’t directed at you.”
“…Please, for the love of the gods, stop spouting that nonsense.”
Excuse me… she’s my student, you know? And could you two save your lovey-dovey quarrels for after work…?
It wasn’t as if rumors weren’t already spreading among students about whether or not the two of them were dating.
After witnessing the fiery gazes exchanged between them—which spoke volumes in more ways than one—Heres quietly rose from her seat.
“Sigh…”
Looks like enjoying free snacks in the lounge was off the table again this year. Absolutely off the table.
[This is the timeline separator]Around seven in the evening, after dinner.
Atop the West Wing—the building crowned with the large bell that marked Academy time—was the Magic Department’s student council room.
Nigel stood there now, having been summoned here after hearing that all freshmen were required to gather in their respective department council rooms immediately following dinner.
‘Do older people really get to call people together out of nowhere on the very first day?’
As for trust—Noah Vessalion wouldn’t even speak to her unless Nigel initiated the conversation first.
‘My life is literally on the line right now.’
Nigel stood with her arms crossed, staring at the student council officers lined up at the front of the room.
“Nigel, why do you think they called us here?”
Allen whispered with a sly grin.
“No idea. But if they’re going to stand there giving us looks without a single smile, at least their message should be just as cheerless.”
“Come on—it’s interesting! It’s not just us; every freshman got summoned to their council rooms. There’s definitely something going on. Definitely.”
Allen declared firmly.
“President, all freshmen are present.”
Nod.
The boy standing at the very center—his dark green hair reminiscent of an evening forest—gave a slight nod and began to speak.
“First off, sorry for the sudden summons during dinner. I’m Oliver, third-year student and president of the Magic Department’s student council.”
Clap, clap, clap!
As the council members started applauding vigorously, the freshmen followed suit—albeit with reluctant expressions.
“Before we get to the main point—if anyone has questions about life at the Academy, feel free to ask without hesitation.”
Several hands shot up immediately.
“Ah, alright. Let’s start with the red-haired girl in the left corner.”
“If we’re going to be working so closely with other departments anyway, why did they inefficiently decide to differentiate uniforms by year instead of by department?”
“Only our department would ask something this good as their first question.”
Oliver grinned widely.
“Just four years ago—or rather, until that year—uniforms were colored by department: blue for Magic, green for Politics, red for Swordsmanship. But that year, a senior from our department mistook a red-uniformed student for an enemy and ended up in the temple alongside him—an unfortunate incident indeed. So starting the next year, uniforms were changed to be colored by academic year, as they are now.”
“Huh…? What do you mean…?”
“In short—they fought so fiercely they both ended up half-dead and got carried off to the temple together.”
A girl standing to Oliver’s right answered in a crisp voice.
“Oh… I see…”
“That answers your question well enough, right? Next one, then?”
This time, even more students raised their hands.
“Ah—you, the blond boy wearing glasses.”
“As fellow Academy students, I don’t understand why we keep avoiding friendly relations with other departments—especially during events like the Eve Festival.”
Several students nodded in agreement.
“Hmm… That’s exactly why I love our department kids—so sharp and kind-hearted. Of course, it’s possible! In fact, among our council members here, someone even dated a student from another department. Though, admittedly, it ended quickly—before even one semester passed—because the other couldn’t handle their personality.”
“Hey! Why bring that up here?!”
“You’re absolutely right. It’d be great if students from the same Academy got along well. However—”
His previously cheerful expression turned icy cold.
“This is a slightly more fundamental issue. Student who asked the question—what’s your name?”
“Tom.”
“Nice to meet you, Tom. Do you think our Magic Department is inferior to Swordsmanship or Politics?”
“Of course not.”
“Exactly. Everyone here at our proud Imperial Sienia Academy believes the same. Does that answer your question?”
“…Yes.”
“Well then, since this came up—let’s get to the main point. Although Sienia officially abolished department scores over ten years ago due to concerns about stirring conflict, we still unofficially keep score between departments.”
Thump.
Oliver lifted a thick, half-volume book from the desk.
“This rulebook—jointly agreed upon by the councils of the three departments: Magic, Politics, and Swordsmanship—is the basis for our scoring.”
“Um… but why go this far?”
A student hesitantly spoke up.
“Because it’s fun.”
Oliver answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“…You people really have all kinds of quirks.”
Nigel muttered blankly.
“Oh, right—Nigel As?”
“…Yes?”
Nigel’s eyes widened slightly at Oliver’s sudden call.
‘Please don’t tell me he heard my muttering…’
“All day… no, didn’t Professor Cledian praise you during class? Is that true?”
“Yes…”
This place was ridiculously huge—so why did rumors spread so fast?
Nigel grumbled silently to herself.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
At Oliver’s unexpected applause, the students awkwardly joined in.
Clap… clap…
Soon, the clapping faded away.
“Congratulations—you just earned two points. Praise from professors of other departments earns one point, but… no, only Professor Cledian grants two points.”
“Oh, okay.”
At this point, she wasn’t even surprised anymore.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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