Happy Evil Heartbreaker [Modern LitRPG]

Chapter 111: A Love Letter and a Gift? Really?



The evening had arrived, and the first study session was about to begin.

During this free period, akin to an extended break, the classroom of Class 1-3 was abuzz with activity. Conversations mingled with laughter, and every corner was alive with various pursuits.

At the back of the room, a group of bored boys had taken to spinning books, competing to see whose book would spin the longest.

In the world of middle school, whether it was spinning pens or books, these were considered basic skills. After all, who didn't know how to twirl something in their fingers?

There were two common methods for spinning a book: one involved using the fingertips, while the other employed the tips of the nails. However, the latter method had a particular consequence—over time, the book would inevitably develop a small hole where it was spun, bringing to mind the saying, "With enough effort, even a rod can be ground into a needle."

Yet, true elites of the art could spin a book using only their fingers, keeping it in motion for an impressively long time.

Marcus El Postacio was one such acknowledged master, famed for his ability to spin a basketball on his fingertip with remarkable dexterity. He could keep the ball spinning effortlessly, even giving it a quick flick with his other hand to maintain its momentum just as it threatened to stop.

This skill transferred seamlessly to book spinning, earning him a reputation as the undisputed champion.

Today, Marcus had made a rare appearance at the evening study session and was currently indulging in a "spinning competition," relishing the thrill of dominating his peers.

In the midst of this contest, someone suddenly shouted, "Check the class group chat! Our Xanthia just sent the principal running!"

The room fell silent in shock.

"What? Xanthia actually dared to hit the principal?"

"Good on her! I've had enough of that old buzzard, Herculano El Monterro, always harping on about school rules!"

"Hahaha, Xanthia truly is my goddess, doing what I’ve always wanted to but never had the courage for."

"How did she do it? Did she really give him a good thrashing?"

"Is it true? I can't believe it! Xanthia is such a delicate girl, who could she possibly beat?"

...

As it turned out, a video of Xanthia "educating" Principal Herculano with a table tennis ball during an activity period had been shared by Noemi in the class group chat.

Unlike Chica, the infamous "backstabber," Noemi was bold enough to share such videos from her main account. Perhaps, there was even a hint of pride in her actions.

After all, many in the class knew that Noemi was a regular table tennis partner of Xanthia, and the two were considered equally skilled. The fact that they could rally back and forth for countless strokes in a single game made them seem well-matched, at least in the eyes of their classmates.

However, the so-called equality in skill had only existed before Xanthia had leveled up her abilities to Lv2.

It hadn’t been long since then, and their classmates still held on to the outdated notion that Xanthia and Noemi were evenly matched.

But now, seeing the video of Xanthia toying with Principal Herculano and then ruthlessly trouncing Oliver, a particularly disliked former classmate, it was easy for Noemi to imagine that she, too, was just as capable.

With this thought, Noemi felt a surge of joy, as though she had somehow “borrowed” Xanthia’s achievements—humbling the principal and annihilating that irritating middle school rival.

Meanwhile, Marcus had immediately stopped spinning his book to check the group chat.

Since his major blunder last time, which had earned him Dionysius's disdain, Marcus had been especially attentive to any information related to Xanthia.

He was eager to see how Xanthia had sent the principal packing, only to discover that the so-called “beating” was merely a victory in table tennis, causing the principal to “flee in defeat.”

Unable to hold back, Marcus exclaimed, "Bloody hell, who said she hit the principal? It was just a table tennis match! Now I see why rumors get more ridiculous the more they're spread!"

Despite his grumbling, Marcus watched the entire video, where Xanthia’s right-hand chop shots tormented Principal Herculano, and then her switch to her left hand to utterly crush Oliver.

Though Marcus’s forte was basketball, he was no stranger to table tennis—a mainstream sport so popular in internet. He wasn’t just one of those “fans who watch every four years (during the Olympics).”

Upon careful consideration, he quickly praised in the group chat, "Xanthia’s table tennis skills are incredible! Principal Herculano’s pretty decent, yet she had him on the ropes!"

In Marcus’s view, Principal Herculano's level was akin to that of the seasoned "park or plaza grandpas"—the kind you shouldn't underestimate. These older players often humbled overly confident young guns on the court.

In time, the "park grandpa" phenomenon became an urban legend of sorts, illustrating how widely table tennis was practiced in the country since the conception of globalization, with hidden masters everywhere, not to mention the professional players.

Marcus’s timely flattery inspired others to follow suit, offering their own compliments, though not everyone was so easily impressed.

“@Xanthia, that was an amazing game! With skills like that, you could probably compete at the city level. I heard that placing in the top eight at that level could even get you into the provincial team.”

“You’ve got great competitive spirit! The future looks bright!”

“I think she was too lenient on the principal. That chopping style is perfect for exhausting an old-timer. She should’ve gone all out, full attack mode, and really crushed him—that would’ve been more satisfying!”

“After she switched to her left hand, her whole aura changed. She had the "goat" vibe from the old days…”

“As far as I know, the current world number one left-handed female player is Japan’s Hina Hayata. Our national women’s team doesn’t have a top lefty, unlike the men’s team, which has stars among the top five. I think Xanthia has the talent to become the empire’s first female left-handed star, maybe even the world’s number one!”

“Even though I’d love to hype her up, beating an amateur-level principal doesn’t exactly make her the next left-handed world champion, does it?”

“True, but how old is Xanthia now? About the same age as Japan’s Miwa Harimoto, right? Harimoto is already competing in professional WTT matches and even beat Hina Hayata in Japan’s national tournament. That’s real talent. Winning a school match isn’t exactly on the same level, and it seems like her looks are influencing your opinions quite a bit.”

“Well, our national women’s team might be overwhelmingly strong, but if we’re honest, they’re not exactly known for their looks. Maybe Zunnietta La Nacottaa is a bit cute with her fierce look, and Allira La Monssa is quite attractive in a more understated way, but the other three… Well, let’s just say the focus is on skill.”

“Table tennis has become so fan-driven these days. I can’t even imagine how crazy fans would go if a girl like Xanthia, with both beauty and talent, made it big. Any time you combine looks with skill, it’s bound to win over the masses!”

The class chat continued to explode with messages, though most were merely playful banter. No one seriously believed that Xanthia was on her way to the national team anytime soon.

After all, the competition in country’s table tennis scene was fierce as the sport oftentimes a soft battle between the superpowers of the world. The so-called prodigies of other countries, were able to compete internationally at fifteen or sixteen because their domestic competition wasn’t as intense, allowing them more opportunities to shine.

Marcus couldn’t help but laugh as he scrolled through the increasingly outlandish conversation in the group chat. Quickly, he forwarded the video to Dionysius and took screenshots of the chat—specifically capturing his own flattering comments about Xanthia—hoping to earn some points with the elder brother.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Marcus retrieved his basketball from a small room at the back of the classroom and began casually showing off his skills, spinning and dribbling with flair. His classmates couldn’t help but marvel at his prowess.

One student piped up, “Marcus’s ball-handling skills are seriously impressive! And that spinning technique? It’s out of this world! Xanthia might be amazing at ping-pong, but let’s see how she fares spinning a basketball with her left hand—bet she’d be stumped!”

Just then, Xanthia and Luciel entered the classroom through the back door, having just finished a leisurely stroll around the school grounds. Xanthia overheard the remark and couldn’t help but smile.

“Mind if I give it a go?” she asked, extending her hand for the basketball. With the “Left-Handed” skill activated, her past life’s experience in spinning a ball with her right hand now flawlessly translated to her left, thanks to the skill enhancement. The ball spun steadily on her fingertip, as if she had been doing it all her life.

The student who had just been singing Marcus’s praises suddenly felt the sting of embarrassment—did he really have to be proven wrong so quickly?

Marcus, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised. “Xanthia, you play basketball too?”

In the classroom, of course, he wouldn’t call her “Miss Xanthia” or make any attempt to cozy up to her. After all, he was just another back-row slacker with a fierce school-bully look—getting too close to Xanthia could easily spark unwanted rumors and ideas.

“I wouldn’t say I’m that good—just know how to spin a ball,” Xanthia replied with a smile. “But as for singing, dancing, and rapping, I’m quite skilled in those.”

Rap had been lumped into her singing skill by the system, and with Lv2 in singing, Xanthia could rightfully claim proficiency in it.

The boys in the back row burst into laughter, finding her remarks hilarious. She wasn’t just talented—she was also down-to-earth and incredibly entertaining!

As Xanthia returned to her seat, the boys continued to discuss her with smiles plastered across their faces.

“If only Xanthia’s basketball skills matched her ping-pong skills, she’d be perfect—like a real-life Akagi Haruko!” Marcus El Postacio mused aloud.

“From Slam Dunk? Who knows?” Leon chimed in. “Maybe she’s a natural at basketball too. She doesn’t seem to mind hanging out with us slackers. If we get a chance during the holidays, we should invite her for a game. And we could even ask her brother to join—bet he’d be up for it.”

“Great idea! We might need to keep a low profile at school, but during the holidays, we could totally get together for a game or even a meal. And who knows? She might be a gamer too—then we’d have another squadmate for sure!” Marcus added with a grin.

“You’re right,” Miguel agreed. “Xanthia isn’t your typical girl. Her interests are more like ours, which means we’d have tons to talk about. She’s such an interesting person!”

Miguel, being a dedicated otaku and a true “second-dimension” enthusiast, found it rare to meet a girl who understood boys like him. Most girls would probably be put off by his obsession with anime and fictional characters.

But he believed Xanthia would never look down on him. In fact, she might even eagerly cosplay as those very characters or even lend her voice to them…

A gem of a girl like Xanthia—why were they so rare in this world?

Then again, it was probably the scarcity of girls willing to delve into boys’ interests that led to the increasing number of guys like Miguel, who found solace in the virtual world.

“I swear, Dionysius’s one lucky guy. How did he end up with such an amazing sister—or rather, an older sister? No wonder he treats her like a precious treasure!”

Marcus  rarely indulged in rebellious thoughts, but he couldn’t help expressing his envy for Dionysius.

After all, who wouldn’t want a younger sister like Xanthia, who could bring so much joy?

Marcus wasn’t an only child—he had a younger sister, two years his junior, named Anastacia La Postacio. She wasn’t much to look at, which wasn’t surprising since he himself wasn’t exactly a heartthrob. Still, she was at least more pleasing to the eye than he was.

The problem was that his sister had a fiery temper and showed him little to no respect. It was probably more common to have a sister like that in this world.

So yes, Dionysius was definitely a lucky bastard!

Meanwhile, Xanthia had just returned to her seat when Lhoraine, the class gossip queen sitting diagonally in front of her, turned around and began bombarding her with questions about the details of her victory over Principal Herculano in the ping-pong match.

Xanthia saw no reason to be secretive and recounted the events of the match in vivid detail.

Indeed, she had employed some rather unconventional tactics. Despite having just made a “breakthrough” during the match, she could have easily won using more conventional methods.

But in order to maximize her “Pain Value” and to give her fellow students a bit of a morale boost—after all, Principal Herculano was notorious for cutting holidays short, enforcing strict school rules, and increasing supplementary class hours—she had decided to go all out with a “torture strategy.”

The “torture strategy,” as it was known, was typically used by weaker players in competitive gaming, where dragging the match out to exhaust an older, more experienced opponent could lead to an upset victory.

Yet here was Xanthia, having already surpassed Principal Herculano in skill after her breakthrough, still choosing to employ this tactic—not to win, but to thoroughly exhaust and demoralize him!

Lhoraine was thoroughly impressed. “Xanthia, you handled that brilliantly! Most people just talk about ‘taking down the Herculano Family Shop,’ but you actually went out and did it! I’m starting to see just how bold you are, challenging the principal like that.”

Xanthia silently reflected that it was the system’s rewards that had tempted her into taking on Principal Herculano. It wasn’t personal, really. But the “Left-Handed” skill she had earned from the challenge was certainly something she was thrilled with.

She hadn’t turned into a lefty, per se, but she had gained a new ace up her sleeve. After experiencing the power of her “Left-Handed Mode,” she found herself a bit addicted to it. After all, who wouldn’t enjoy playing ping-pong at full throttle?

Zunnietta La Nacottaa, the current queen of women’s table tennis, was renowned for her unparalleled forehand attack, often pinning her opponents to the backcourt with relentless pressure—her matches were brutal and breathtakingly intense.

Whenever Zunnietta faced off against international opponents, her playstyle was akin to a beast on the prowl—ruthless and unstoppable. She rarely lost to foreign players; it was only in domestic matches that her guard dropped, resulting in the occasional loss.

Players like her, who excelled in international matches, were the true fan-favorites. It was those who struggled against unfamiliar international opponents, only to perform with reckless abandon against their domestic counterparts, who frustrated fans the most.

One couldn’t just assume that sending a second-tier national player to an international competition would guarantee an easy win—that was a misconception. Even the top players frequently faced upsets.

If Xanthia ever got the chance to face off against international opponents, she’d have the nerves of steel to show them what true composure looked like. Once her skill levels were maxed out, she could be confident in her technique, her consistency, her “robotic” precision. And since she didn’t care much about winning or losing, she’d have no psychological pressure at all.

As Xanthia finished her chat with Lhoraine, she instinctively reached into her desk to retrieve the homework she hadn’t yet completed. She planned to finish it quickly so she could move on to more enjoyable pursuits—building up her “Happy Points,” as she called it.

But wait, what was this?

Xanthia’s hand brushed against something unfamiliar. Had someone slipped her a love letter or a gift?


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