"Uh, I'm new here. Just looking around. I still need to report for registration later," Tran said, hefting his luggage to signal the two girls in front of him not to bother him.

"That's even better! So the instructor hasn't seen you yet? Please help us just this once," the ponytailed girl pleaded, gazing at Tran with wide, pitiful eyes.

"But I—" Before Tran could finish, he felt arms wrap around his—one, then another!

"Classmate! You can't abandon us in our time of need! We have something super important, but I can't explain now. I'll tell you later, I promise. Just come to class with us!" The short-haired girl clung tighter to his arm, terrified he'd bolt.

Tran was a teenage boy in his prime, unused to talking with girls his age after years of isolation. This close contact was overwhelming—even if they didn't know he was male, he did. He froze, face burning with awkwardness, torn between following them or fleeing.

To the girls, Tran looked hilarious: cheeks flushed crimson, mouth open but speechless. *Why does such a pretty girl act like those silly boys in class?* they wondered silently.

After ten seconds of stalemate, Tran sighed. "Fine. I'll join one class. But I must report afterward."

"You're amazing! We only have Combat today. Afterward, we'll personally take you to registration! Our classmate Yan Muyu is absent—she's the class beauty. You look just like her. Perfect for standing in!" The short-haired girl beamed. "Oh, I'm Yuanhe. She's Stella." She pointed to herself, then the ponytailed girl.

Tran set down his bag but kept Fili's staff strapped to his back. "I'm Tran. And I'm a boy."

"Tran? Nice name—wait, what?! A boy?!" Stella jolted back. His voice *was* deeper... "You're joking, right?" She recalled pressing her chest against his arm moments ago.

"Why would I lie? I'm male. I'll get plastic surgery soon!" Tran groaned inwardly. *Should I wear a sign saying "I'm a guy"?*

"Whatever. Stella, lend him your mask. We'll say Yan Muyu has a cold—can't speak, and it covers her face," Yuanhe ordered.

"O-okay... Tran, forget what just happened. We truly didn't know..." Stella stammered awkwardly.

"No worries. Let's hurry to class," Tran replied, his own face reddening but thick-skinned from past ordeals.

...

"Monitor, headcount?" The burly Combat Instructor asked, eyeing a stunning blonde girl.

"Sir, Yuanhe, Stella, and Yan Muyu are absent!" The monitor stressed Yan Muyu's name. Beautiful girls were rivals; with two equally gorgeous ones, only one could be class beauty. Awkward.

"Hmm?" The instructor frowned at three absences. As he reached for his recorder, a shout cut through.

"Sir! Wait—we were in the bathroom!" Yuanhe yanked Tran forward, preventing the absence record. Here, missing class meant lost credits, even failed graduation.

The blonde monitor scowled. She'd missed her chance to get back at Yan Muyu.

"Good you came. You there, girl—why the mask?" The instructor noticed Tran at the back. Eccentric students weren't rare: skin-tight outfits, whip carriers, even streakers (the last got expelled to a psych ward). But a plain mask? Unheard of.

"Ah! Sir, she's Yan Muyu. She's sick with a cold. Can't speak. Applied to observe only," Stella blurted.

"Hmm. Today's lesson is vital. If mild, participate anyway. Return to your spots." The instructor strode to the front of the hundred students.

Yuanhe and Stella dragged Tran away. To the blonde, their haste seemed suspicious.

"Class, nearly a month since term started. I've taught you to master your Superpowers—and you haven't disappointed. Freshly awakened A Rank elites, already proficient. You stand at humanity's forefront," the instructor praised. Each student swelled with pride.

"But mastery and application differ!" he boomed. "This is Combat class. From today, every session involves real fights!" The room erupted. These kids craved to showcase their power. School rules banned public duels, and without arena access, they'd been dying to fight.

Finally, a chance to prove their Superpowers' might—who wouldn't thrill?

"Sir! Are we sparring each other today?" A handsome guy with flowing hair asked, glancing at Tran. Clearly showing off for a crush.

The instructor smiled mysteriously. He stomped the ground, leaping skyward. A punch slammed downward—and a crater split the earth.

"Your opponent is me. Split into ten groups. Each fights me." He landed smoothly. "Don't worry. I'm S Rank, but I control my power. You'll only get a little hurt..."

Excitement faded as students eyed the crater. *If that hit me, would I stay in one piece?*

Still, his command was absolute. Teams formed fast. Tran's "sick" group still drew volunteers—beauty's charm was endless. The handsome guy, Mocha, joined without hesitation.

Ten minutes later, teams were set. Lots drew the order. Tran's group got lucky: last.

"Excellent. First group, begin! Remember: Spatial users, teleport often. Attackers, seize the right moment!" The instructor's pre-fight advice showed his dedication.

The first team was a wild mix: elemental, psychic, support types...

Instantly, the support girl activated her Superpower, buffing teammates. Their combat power surged. Onlookers grew envious—A Rank support abilities were rare treasures.

The boosted students charged like they'd been injected with adrenaline, aiming to overwhelm the instructor with numbers.

He merely smirked. Leaping over them, he landed behind the group. They whirled around. A Spatial user teleported beside him, swinging a punch—but the instructor vanished. Reappearing, he stood by the support girl, tapping her neck.

"Time to step down, miss. Now for these nine clueless idiots who can't cooperate."