At a long conference table, a bespectacled man folded his hands beneath his chin, his gaze drifting over the seated crowd like a slow tide. He spoke.

“Student Council members, I’m your advisor for this event. Call me Dick—but better yet, my stage name: Blazing Big Blade!”

A man shot to his feet like a startled spring. “Holy crap! That name’s vicious!”

Dick pushed his glasses; a sharp glint flashed, a shard of light that stabbed every pair of lenses around the table.

“I know my stage name’s intimidating—no need to gasp. Back to business. We’re here to discuss the annual School Festival.”

At “School Festival,” the room popped like corn in hot oil. Why? Because a festival means maids, cosplayers, and dates—uh… sorry, scratch that last one.

But still—maids and cosplayers!

Smack. Dick slammed the table; silence fell like fresh snow. Every gaze snapped toward him like arrows in flight.

“Quiet! I know you’re excited. The dragon invasion delayed the festival, so you thought it was canceled. But we’re still celebrating. The school’s extending it—five days this year.”

No one cheered; the quiet sagged like a deflating balloon, and awkwardness colored Dick’s face like a blush.

“Why aren’t you shouting?”

“Weren’t you the one who told us not to?” The voice was small, but in the hushed room it floated like a whispering breeze.

Dick rubbed his brow, a sigh rising like steam from a kettle. He felt helpless before their ironclad honesty.

“Whatever. Enough useless chatter. Tell me—what’s the Council’s plan?”

At “plan,” the group sparked like dry grass catching fire.

“Maid café!”

“Haunted house!”

“Femboy lounge!”

Smack. His palm hit wood again. “Enough! We’ve done those to death. Give me something new.”

“I want Hatsune Miku’s concert!”

“I want Midsummer Night’s Lewd Dream!”

“I want Ling to wear a swimsuit!”

“I want to be a school idol!”

“Shut up!” Dick’s roar cracked like thunder. He didn’t slam the table—his palm was already raw. A vein throbbed on his forehead like a coiled snake. “I’m not asking what you weebs want to consume. I’m asking what you plan to host. If anyone tosses nonsense again, I guarantee he’ll meet a van full of goons after school.”

Silence pooled, heavy as chains on wet stone. No one spoke.

Dick snorted, a cold sound like wind over granite. “Hmph. A pack of weebs—one casual threat and you clam up.”

A small hand rose, slow as a cautious sprout reaching sun. It was Lian’s tiny, doll-like hand.

“How about… we combine their ideas? We team up with other schools and run all these events at once. Wouldn’t that work? A festival that grand could draw a crowd…”

Dick’s scorn curled like smoke. “Didn’t I say I vetoed those from the start? Do none of you think with your heads? Even if I didn’t, you don’t have the capital for a festival that size. So you should just—”

He never finished. The room erupted like a breaking wave. They surged and tackled him, pinning him to the floor, every person driving in a few punches like hailstones.

Each blow came with a shouted caption, like judges announcing his sins.

“That’s for your blind veto! You coming or not?!”

“That’s for Blazing Big Blade! Still feeling cocky?!”

“That’s for dissing the two-dimensional! Still looking down on us?!”

After dozens of punches apiece, fists lowered. They glanced around at the brawlers, trading approving looks like passing torches.

As if a shared spark ignited, they all nodded. Then, in a single turn, they faced Dick, fists lifting. Those with magic wrapped their knuckles in shimmering force; those without had friends augment their strikes.

Fire burned in their eyes like banked coals. Dick, his face wrecked beyond recognition, stared back, dread pooling cold as river water. He shouted.

“Stop! Don’t hit me again! Even my dad never hit me!”

They ignored his pleas. Fists fell like a storm. In unison, their voices cracked the air.

“This punch is for Ling, our loli classmate!”

Thud. A dozen blows hammered him from every angle, like a train plowing through a scarecrow. Foam bubbled from his mouth as he crumpled, so pitiful that even an Old God would look lively beside him. Even Lian’s heart pinched with a flicker of pity.

Then two hands slid under Lian’s arms and lifted her, setting her—wide-eyed as a stunned kitten—into Dick’s former seat.

Everyone snapped a crisp salute, then dropped to one knee, voices ringing like a drill yard.

“Awaiting Lady Ling’s command!!!”

Facing a crowd that moved like trained soldiers, fear crawled up Lian’s spine like a cold lizard. She thought, Mommy, this place is scary. I want to go home…