"I have no clue what I’m even doing," Yan Yi muttered helplessly when he saw it was Interle. Of all places, why did he land right here?

"Ugh, forget it. What was I thinking, wasting an hour on strategy?" Interle rubbed his forehead, his drive completely gone. All that careful planning, and it couldn’t beat the sheer luck of some flying idiot.

"Oh. So that’s why it felt like I hit something." Yan Yi hauled the unconscious Rock out of the crater, patting him down until he found the number plaque.

The audience finally snapped out of their daze, gasping in unison. This challenger was ruthless—dropping straight from the sky to knock Rock out cold!

Just then, Sigu charged into the arena. Without a word, he lunged at Yan Yi.

Yan Yi tossed the number-eight plaque to Interle, then raised his own number-one plaque toward Sigu.

"Seriously? I told you I’d hand it over! I almost dropped this thing when I lost my grip!"

Interle quietly slipped away as the crowd’s attention locked onto Yan Yi’s raised plaque.

After all, this year’s number-one was shrouded in mystery. No one expected him to debut by skydiving onto Rock, knocking him out, and casually gifting away his plaque!

And that nonchalant attitude—as if crushing a rival was no big deal—was utterly insane.

Sigu skidded to a halt, glaring coldly at Yan Yi.

"You’re number one. Why aren’t you fighting to win for the academy? Would you hand your plaque to a Class E student if they reached the fifth floor too?"

*Spot on*, Yan Yi thought dryly. *I’m Class F—giving it to a Class E is totally normal*. But seeing Sigu’s fraying temper, he decided to tread carefully.

"Look, I never wanted to be number one. I got shoved into this."

That only made Sigu angrier. Being number one was every student’s dream—and this guy was *complaining*?

In a blink, Sigu closed the distance, lightning crackling around his fist as he threw a punch.

*Damn it. Even clay dolls have tempers!* Yan Yi thought. *Just because I keep flying around randomly, you think I enjoy it?*

His hand shot out, clamping Sigu’s wrist mid-swing. The lightning flared—but the fist wouldn’t budge an inch.

Sigu’s eyes widened. His wrist felt locked in an iron vise.

The crowd didn’t mind the sudden shift in combatants. After all, they were witnessing the academy’s top two clash! But they were stunned—Yan Yi had neutralized Sigu’s punch with terrifying ease.

Sigu’s strength was second only to brute specialists like Rock. Among Class Bs, he ranked near the top!

"Kid," Yan Yi said calmly, "are you acting all dramatic for no reason?"

Sigu flared with electricity. Yan Yi released him—not wanting a shock—and Sigu leaped back ten meters, eyes sharp with caution.

"I have zero plans here. Why drag me into this ‘academy pride’ nonsense? People have different dreams!" Yan Yi sighed. *Why won’t anyone take this plaque? Today’s youth are impossible to please.*

Interle and Luris stiffened. If Yan Yi quit, Central Academy couldn’t contain the other schools’ Class A students. What was the point of competing? They might as well cheer for Juben.

"Yan Yi, if you withdraw, prepare your will first!"

Yan Yi whipped toward the stands. Luris was shouting; Interle just smiled sweetly.

*So that’s why I landed near them! You little—*

He shot Sigu a glare that made the boy tense, bracing for an attack. But Yan Yi turned back to the stands, voice pleading.

"Don’t I have the right to choose freely?"

Silence. Then Interle mouthed two words: *How you die.*

Yan Yi rolled his eyes, turned robotically toward Sigu, and wore an expression of utter despair.

"Fine. Let’s go. You *have* to beat me."

"*Damn it!*"

Sigu finally snapped. Veins throbbed on his forehead. He didn’t care how strong Yan Yi was—he just wanted to pummel him into the ground.

"Lightning Strike!"

Under clear skies, a violet bolt crashed down where Yan Yi stood.

An explosion boomed. Dust cleared, revealing a charred figure…

"*Rock!*"

Sigu froze. Wrong target?! Where did Yan Yi—

"Harsh move. Poor guy woke up just to pass out again."

Yan Yi’s voice came from behind. Sigu spun, unleashing a lightning-charged spinning kick.

He hit nothing. The ground shattered where his foot swept—but Yan Yi wasn’t there.

"Referee," Yan Yi appeared before the official, dumping Rock into his arms. "You’re slacking."

The referee blinked. He’d forgotten Rock entirely. The duel had been so captivating—and while students saw blurs, even this Class S referee couldn’t track Yan Yi’s movements.

*Poof*. Yan Yi vanished again. When Sigu noticed, he was back at the starting point.

Close combat? Trapped. Ranged attacks? Useless. And Yan Yi hadn’t shown a shred of mana. Despair washed over Sigu. No Class A could be this strong.

"Body of Lightning!"

Electric arcs sheathed Sigu’s body—a perfect defense-offense fusion. He could only pray Yan Yi was truly Class F. At that level, he couldn’t possibly withstand this voltage.

(Sigu was right. Yan Yi *could* endure it—but he hated the tingling sensation. That’s why he’d let go earlier.)

As Sigu charged, Yan Yi stomped down. The ground cracked, fissures forming a perfect square.

Sigu’s instincts screamed. He watched Yan Yi plunge his hand into the earth, heaving up a massive slab of rock and concrete.

Sigu understood instantly. His scalp prickled. He pushed off the ground, desperate to stop him—

Then darkness swallowed his last thought…

The crowd and referee stared dumbly at the rubble pile and Yan Yi, brushing dust off his hands. Even Luris and Interle shared the same thought:

*Too violent.*

Especially that final throw—no mercy at all. The boulder vanished faster than eyes could follow. Some wondered if Sigu was even alive.

Yan Yi wasn’t worried. He’d calculated it—no fatal impact. Broken bones? Maybe. But *as long as his skull wasn’t cracked, he’d be fine…*

Yawning, he glanced at the two girls in the stands. *I’m leaving.*

Their faces twitched. The referee was already scrambling to dig Sigu out, while the culprit acted like nothing happened. They had no words.

Taking their silence as consent, Yan Yi walked out through the contestant’s gate—no flashy teleportation. The protective barrier was still active. Not a single student dared approach him.

News of "Number One crushing Number Two with a boulder" spread like wildfire across campus, growing wilder by the hour.

"Did you hear? Number One ripped up the arena floor and smashed Number Two with a rock!"

"No way! I heard he stomped once, flipped the earth over, and buried him!"

"Actually, he flipped the *entire arena*! Number Two didn’t even see it coming!"

For seven days, whispers filled every corridor. The library became forbidden territory—students avoided it, terrified of being crushed. Rumor had it Sigu stayed unconscious for a day after healing magic, then needed two more to recover.

Ward was torn: the library was finally quiet… but probably empty forever.

Luris and Interle, however, were thrilled. They hid on the fourth floor, untouched. No one dared disturb the "violent maniac" above.

Other plaque holders faced challenges too—but only numbers eight and nine changed hands.

A week later, the updated list was posted—with titles.

Number Eight: Interle Liz, Title: *Wooden-Wing Angel*

Number Nine: Luris Aite, Title: *Queen of Water*

The three oddballs had kept their self-chosen titles. Students staring at the noticeboard could only sigh.

*No wrong names, only fitting titles* (except for one guy). Honestly, those three weren’t wrong.

And the most anticipated title? Number One’s placeholder "The Last" was gone. Replaced by the name echoing across campus for seven days:

***Violent Overlord***.