The Extra's Rise - Chapter 21: Freshman Ball I

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

The Heavenly Dao has shifted, demons rise from all corners, and the powers of Cultivation need to be enhanced. The Immortal Venerable's Order commands us to diligently cultivate, slay demons, exterminate evil, purge demons to protect the Dao, and elevate the might of Huaxia...

In the Province of the Nine Skies, far above the heavens, there exists Nine Galaxies of Astral Rivers made up of countless constellations interwoven together.

Cyril was a Harry Potter book fan. He unexpectedly obtained a chatterbox system that said it would take him to experience the desired Wizarding World.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Was there such a good thing?

However, once the system was finished, he found that this Wizarding World didn’t seem quite right?

Cyril (eyes shaking: Forest monster? Brass steam train? Gloomy wizard’s tower? Wizarding academy of the fittest? This wasn’t right!

System (forcing itself to be calm): Magic creatures! The appearance doesn’t matter! The architecture isn’t the key! It is still a wizarding academy! There isn’t anything wrong with it! Not bad, not bad!

Cyril struggled to make it through the Blackheart Wizard Academy. Fortunately, there was the gentle and courteous chief gentleman to cling to. This was until he found that the handsome chief seemed to be plotting against him…

My god! This seemed to the other identity of the crazy great magician and necromancer?

***

According to legends, the dark, paranoid, crazy and perverted great necromancer rubbed the white and delicate neck of the beautiful young man in his arms and whispered, “My dear, I heard that you have been very close to the commander of the Holy Light Knights recently?

Cyril denied it three consecutive times with an innocent face, “I’m not! I didn’t! Who is talking nonsense?”

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