Break time came with a bang.
Literally. Something exploded in the science lab next door, and no one batted an eye.
Lu Qingyan, meanwhile, sat quietly at her desk, nibbling on a strawberry-flavored snack bar she had stashed in her pocket.
Her plan was simple: low profile, low drama, no eye contact.
But fate had other plans.
"Hey, transfer girl."
She looked up to find a boy looming over her desk with the most serious expression she had ever seen on someone wearing a hoodie covered in neon dinosaur patches.
"You seem smart. Do you think emotions can be quantified?"
Lu Qingyan blinked.""Um…"
"I'm building a device that can measure heartbreak in volts. Wanna help?"
"…I think I left my scientific calculator at home."
He walked away muttering something about "emotional data points" and "spike waves during rejection."
As expected of weird geniuses…
Lu Qingyan thought as she took another bite of her snack bar.
Then came Interaction #2.
A girl with dark circles under her eyes and three coffee cups in her hands staggered over like a zombie from a research paper apocalypse.
She squinted at Lu Qingyan, then sniffed.
"You smell normal," she said suspiciously.
"…Thanks?"
"I just needed to check. Last week, someone in this class tried experimenting with human pheromones and the entire back row smelled like mangoes and regret."
Before Lu Qingyan could respond, the girl wandered off again, sipping from all three cups like she couldn't decide which one to sacrifice for sleep.
Why is this class full of anime characters on side quests? she thought desperately.
Interaction #3 arrived like a windstorm. Literally.
A girl with two pigtails and wind goggles burst into the classroom and skidded to a stop right in front of Lu Qingyan.
"I've been measuring wind currents around the school. Something's off."
"…Is that so?"
She pointed at Lu Qingyan's hair. "Your hair didn't flutter when I passed by just now. That's a phenomenon."
"Or maybe I just used extra-hold hairspray?"
The girl gasped, wrote something in a notebook, and whispered, "She's one of them," before darting away.
Then, #4
A quiet girl with an eye twitch sat down beside her and, without a trace of expression, asked, "If a robot develops consciousness and then falls in love with you, is it ethically cheating if you accept?"
Lu Qingyan opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then just slowly shook her head and looked out the window.
And then finally, #5
Before she could relax, the last visitor came in the form of a boy dragging a portable chessboard behind him like a war weapon.
A tall, silent boy sat across from her with a chessboard.
He slid it across the desk.
"I don't talk to people unless they can beat me in three moves," he said.
Lu Qingyan blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm Qiao Zhe. I've beaten every student in this class in three moves, of ourse except two students since they don't play with me. I'm last year's national chess champion. Do you dare challenge me?"
Lu Qingyan raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that's not a normal way to introduce yourself?"
"Checkmate in three moves," he said, eyes gleaming. "You'll understand."
The class, sensing something monumental was about to happen, gathered around like hungry spectators.
Chess was her thing.
She couldn't walk away from this challenge—especially not when her pride and her big brother's honor who taught her chess like it was war was on the line.
She rolled her shoulders. "Fine."
They played.
Three moves in, Qiao Zhe's confident smirk wavered.
Seven moves in, his face turned pale
Nine moves in, Lu Qingyan leaned back and said with the calm of a seasoned killer, "Checkmate."
The room erupted.
"WHAAAT?!"
"No way!"
"Is Qiao Zhe hallucinating?"
Qiao Zhe stared at the board like it had personally betrayed him. Then his hands shot out and reset the pieces. "Rematch!"
She gave a small shrug. "If you insist."
Rematch.
Checkmate in eight.
Rematch.
Checkmate in seven.
Rematch.
Checkmate in six.
At some point, people stopped pretending it was a normal break time and began live-commenting like it was a televised match.
"She's not human…"
"She's a monster."
"She's our class' monster."
By the fourth game, Qiao Zhe slumped in defeat, mumbling, "I—I just wanted to impress her…"
Lu Qingyan dusted her hands and gave him a sympathetic pat on the head. "Good game."
Someone whispered dramatically, "We have a new boss in the class."
She sighed. As expected of the Special Class. Even their trains of thought have no brakes.
Lunchtime finally arrived like a salvation bell.
Lu Qingyan stood and quietly made her way toward the door. Her plan? Eat alone in a quiet corner of the school garden, maybe even hum to herself like the background character she wanted to be.
But just as she reached the hallway, a soft voice called out from behind.
"Lu Qingyan, right?"
She turned and saw a girl with long, silky black hair and crisp bangs walking toward her.
Her presence was elegant and composed—like a student from a school brochure. She had an armband on her sleeve that read Student Council, and a small, polite smile.
"I'm Lin Xin. Want to eat together?"
Lu Qingyan was taken aback. "Oh… um, sure?"
"You planning to eat alone?" Lin Xin asked casually.
"Yes," Lu Qingyan admitted.
"Why?"
"...Habit."
As they stepped into the elevator, Lu Qingyan glanced at her. "Why'd you ask me to eat with you?"
Lin Xin shrugged lightly. "It's too lonely eating alone. Besides," she added with a straight face, "You shouldn't mingle with people from Class 9. Their stupidity is contagious."
"…Contagious?"
Lin Xin nodded seriously. "Airborne."
Lu Qingyan nodded thoughtfully. She's not wrong.
In the novel, Class 9 was unofficially called the "Rehabilitation Room"—a gathering place for the academically hopeless, the chronically mischievous, and the once-expelled-twice-returned types.
And Lu Mingxuan—the wildcard side character—was also from Class 9.
When they stepped into the cafeteria, it was like walking into a five-star buffet.
Rows of food counters displayed dishes from multiple cuisines: steaming dumplings, sizzling meat skewers, curry rice, grilled salmon, spaghetti, hot pot—even a dessert section with a chocolate fountain.
Lu Qingyan's stomach made a hopeful little gurgle.
The cafeteria was buzzing, but as they walked through the crowd, snippets of conversation reached her ears.
"Good thing Lu Mingxuan isn't here today."
"Yeah, it's peaceful. Yesterday, someone touched his milk tea and the chairs flew."
"I swear, he's cursed. Even the vending machine short-circuited when he walked by."
Lu Qingyan bit into her grilled shrimp and nodded silently to herself. 'Thank goodness he's not here. I don't even know what he looks like.'
The author, in their infinite laziness, had described Lu Mingxuan's appearance with just one vague sentence:
"He looked gentle when he just sat there and didn't talk, but once he opened his mouth, he was no different from a thug on the streets."
Which was basically saying: He had a face, probably. But good luck finding it.
They found a seat by the window.
Lin Xin placed her tray down with grace and sipped her soup like a noble lady.
After a moment, she glanced at Lu Qingyan.
"If you ever need anything, you can come to me. I'm with the student council, so I have some authority."
Lu Qingyan blinked, surprised by the offer. Then she smiled—genuinely this time. "Thank you. That's really kind of you."
Lin Xin nodded like she'd passed a test. "Good. I think I'll keep you."
Lu Qingyan bit into her dumpling and finally let her shoulders relax.
She survived her first half-day in a class full of oddballs, beat the school chess king, made a student council friend, and avoided two major villains.
Lu Qingyan stared down at her dessert plate. A cream puff smiled back at her.
She exhaled slowly.
Not bad for day one.
But as she picked up her drink, something icy ran down her spine.
This was a villain-packed school, after all. Peace would never last long.