How to Survive as a Trash Extra Villain

Chapter 10

“Yawn.”

Three sleepless nights of studying. After the midterm, exhaustion hit hard.

My steps to the academy felt heavier than ever today.

When I arrived, the other cadets looked just as drained, and the apprentices and teachers weren’t faring much better.

“Good morning, everyone.”

Teacher Hectia’s eyes, shadowed with dark circles, were half-open.

Whispers spread among the students.

“Good morning… doesn’t seem like it for her…”

“She must not have slept.”

“They say she stays up all night grading exams.”

The Imperium Academy’s exams pushed both teachers and students to their limits, per tradition.

But there was a reason it wasn’t entirely bad.

“Quiet down. We’ll skip the morning assembly and distribute report cards. Afterward, we’ll skip the closing ceremony and go home.”

“Oh!”

“Wow!”

The tradition ended with “You worked hard yesterday, so rest today.” Cadets and teachers alike were exhausted.

Today’s curriculum was just handing out report cards.

Cadets and teachers could leave right after.

“Number 1, Gilbert.”

“Yes.”

My eyes instinctively turned.

The novel’s protagonist, Gilbert Offer Cosmos.

“Better than expected.”

“Thank you.”

The praise sparked hope among the students, but Gilbert was an exception.

Number 2 got a jab: “Do you walk with your eyes open?” Number 3 was stabbed: “Is this your limit?”

Hectia’s sharp tongue was relentless, even for top-ranking students, with comments like “Are you even trying?” or “Pathetic.”

Numbers were called in order.

“Number 14, Bord.”

“Yes!”

“A class president and heir of a great ducal family, and this is all you’ve got?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Critical issues in Magic Studies were evident. Fix them. Go.”

My turn was next.

A tense silence, like the calm before a storm, gripped the classroom.

Teacher Hectia stared at the report card without a word.

Finally.

“…Number 15, Martin.”

The air in Class A turned icy.

I could feel the eager sneers, cadets twisting in anticipation of Hectia’s verbal daggers aimed at me.

Honestly, I was prepared.

As Martin stepped forward, Hectia handed over the report card and whispered.

“…Well done.”

“Thank you…?”

The walk back to my seat felt unfamiliar.

The cadets’ expressions were pure bewilderment.

Sitting down, I glanced at the report card.

“What’s my rank?”

[Rank: 1st, Total Score: 8,874]

“Oh! Know-It-All! You did it!”

In my mind, I hugged an old, bespectacled, white-haired man with an empty head.

We sang, drank, and gorged on cake together.

“…Wait.”

Avoiding expulsion was great, but this wasn’t entirely good news.

8,874 points. Less than 90 out of 100, but as I recalled, the highest score in this exam…

“Number 32, Elisha. A performance worthy of a great ducal family’s eldest daughter. Well done.”

“Yes. Thank—”

Elisha’s face paled as she took her report card. A dazed voice slipped through her lips.

“Third…?”

An unstoppable murmur swept through Class A.

“Elisha, third? She was second at entrance!”

“No, she was close to Prince Kazaks, the top scorer… Wait, does that mean the top scorer changed too?!”

“Who’s first, then?! Prince Kazaks isn’t the top?!”

I stared at my report card with trembling eyes.

“I messed up. I really messed up. Hide it for now.”

The nail that sticks out gets hammered. I was the academy’s most hated, World Cup No. 1. And I was the top scorer…

But my racing heart wouldn’t calm down. I’d changed. I wasn’t the Martin they knew. I’d shown them. I hoped many would rethink their view of me.

“Quiet. If you’re curious about the top scorer, I’ve posted the rankings outside. Check it yourself.”

“Oh no!”

I gripped my shaking eyes. I had to stay sharp and handle this.

What would the reaction be when Martin—Violence Circle leader, school violence perpetrator, back after 80 days—took first place?

Honestly, I’d expected maybe 50th place…

In my mind, I clung to Know-It-All and sobbed.

“Know-It-All! You were too diligent!”

“Now, go home!”

“Let’s check the rankings!”

“What’s going on?!”

“Oh, ahh!”

Unlike usual, the cadets swarmed out like bees.

Elisha, who’d fallen from second to third, bolted out first. The protagonist’s party followed, offering words of comfort.

I started to run too, but—

“Martin von Targon Ulvhadin. Stay behind.”

“…”

Trouble. Of course, cadets might not know, but a teacher would.

Hectia’s expression was blank, but I saw a demonic fury flickering behind it.

“I said cheating is grounds for expulsion…!”

***

My breath caught. Ever stood before a tiger? Among the continent’s recognized Gem Knight ranks, there was Platinum Knight, with only five in the mighty Imperium Empire. Hectia was one of them. Also the knight commander most trusted by the current emperor.

Her killing intent pierced me.

My stomach churned. I felt dizzy.

Then, like a lie, the intent vanished. I was a mess of tears and snot.

“In 30 minutes, at 10:30, a disciplinary committee will convene. Attend. Absence means expulsion.”

“…Understood.”

Hectia, containing her restrained anger, stormed out, slamming the classroom door.

Left alone, I couldn’t hide my desolation.

“Ha…”

I wasn’t calm.

I thought Know-It-All (Lv 1) might have an error rate, so I answered everything correctly, and it delivered an 88% accuracy rate. Excluding questions it gave up on, it was 100%.

In my haste to avoid expulsion, I missed the trap.

“How could this happen?”

I checked the entrance exam results on the report card.

Martin’s entrance exam rank was 42nd out of 45 in the class, 242nd out of 250 school-wide. Yes, a dunce.

A high score was required to avoid expulsion, but achieving it led to cheating suspicions—a perfect trap.

“Damn it. Know-It-All missed this simple problem…”

Know-It-All, which aided brain activity, didn’t warn me of the trap.

It seemed highly efficient for memorization but less so for situational judgment. It only understood causes after events unfolded… but realizing now was too late.

It wasn’t fair to blame Know-It-All. I only just learned Martin’s entrance exam rank.

Even Know-It-All couldn’t recall information it didn’t have.

“Ha…”

I wanted Lilac’s cheesecake.

“Damn it. From the start… this was their plan.”

A 150 million won fine for a mere cadet. Demanding a near-bottom student achieve a vague high score. Suspecting cheating when they did, leading to a disciplinary committee.

The academy was determined to expel me, even if it meant using dirty, petty methods.

The world’s top educational institution would never accept a delinquent like me. They’d hit me with apologies, service hours, and fines to keep me away, but I returned shamelessly. My fault, sure.

From the moment I obediently paid the fine and completed the service hours, I was trapped. I’d been flailing in a sealed pit.

“Why does this world hate me so much?”

It hated Martin, but I was Martin now. And I didn’t have the mental strength to shrug off that malice.

I wasn’t the protagonist. This wasn’t my role. I wasn’t strong. All I had was ordinariness.

I couldn’t find it in me to love these people while enduring this.

“Damn it.”

Truthfully, I’d hoped a little. As the top scorer, I’d be welcomed, live the joyful school life I dreamed of, and prepare for the apocalypse.

No. Dreams were dreams.

I checked the clock. About 40 minutes until 10:30.

Oh… I wouldn’t get to eat Lilac’s cheesecake.

“…I see.”

The vibrant colors of the world faded to gray.

Like when I wrote dozens of novels, none succeeding. Like when my only success came from adapting someone else’s idea. Like when I realized my hopeless lack of talent.

“I’m not welcome here either.”

I narrowed my eyes. I faintly saw Recola. Anger and hatred gnawed at me.

The world, the positive energy that made me, was inverting.

***

“…”

Cold fury swirled in her mind. Hectia was deeply displeased with the cheating scandal that had arisen over the past two days.

“…Strange.”

Of all times, it happened when she wasn’t in the grading room.

The vice principal and the academy’s power-holding teachers had stormed in, claiming Class A’s Martin had cheated, ordering her to notify the cadet of a disciplinary committee.

“There was… no such vibe.”

Hectia von Villemon Hartman. Who was she?

The former commander of the Imperium Empire’s Royal Knight Order, one of fewer than 100 Platinum Knights worldwide.

Her intuition, honed to the level of foresight, wouldn’t miss a mere cadet’s cheating.

Rather, her intuition sensed something suspicious from the vice principal’s faction.

“I’m not sure we did the right thing.”

“Haha, why worry about that? Let’s grab a steak! I know a great place! They import top-grade Petrak beef straight from the Petrak Kingdom!”

“Steak?”

Hectia glanced at the teacher clinging to her, one of the vice principal’s allies. Someone who never spoke to her was suddenly inviting her out.

Was this reasonable? A cadet cheated, and the homeroom teacher was told to go eat steak?

“What about the disciplinary committee?”

“Oh, the vice principal will handle it.”

“You’re not going?”

“Me? Nah, I’m just skipping out!”

Clearly, they wanted her out of the way.

Her earlier anger at Martin was to deceive this teacher.

Hectia sighed deeply. She lifted her head. She didn’t want to rely on this, but…

The clinging teacher suddenly collapsed forward. Behind stood several figures in pitch-black robes, silent. Even facing them, perception kept slipping, like they were shadows.

Only a Platinum Knight like Hectia could manage this; normal cadets or apprentices wouldn’t even notice their presence.

“…What’s happening?”

“The Harmadun and Deminiyan families, two of the four greatlesen ducal houses, have requested the vice principal to expel Cadet Martin.”

“Did Cadet Martin really cheat?”

“You’d know better than we do.”

“…”

As she tried to ask more, the shadow knights melted into the darkness and vanished.

“Um, Teacher Hectia…”

Turning, she saw the pink-haired apprentice approaching.

“Teacher Hailey. What is it?”

“Do you know where Cadet Martin’s disciplinary committee is being held?”

“Why…?”

“I saw him leaving after the exam… I thought I might serve as a witness…”

***

The disciplinary committee’s base composition was three head teachers, one per grade.

Depending on the severity, the cadet’s homeroom teacher or the entire grade’s faculty might be summoned.

In serious cases, the vice principal stepped in.

In the worst scenarios, the academy’s principal, a war hero and the empire’s greatest mage, appeared.

I slowly turned my head side to side.

The prosecution seats were filled with high school grade teachers.

I looked straight ahead, lifting my gaze.

Three head teachers sat at the committee table.

I raised my head higher, stiffly.

Finally, I saw the vice principal in the judge’s seat.

From the towering judge’s and committee’s seats, malice swirled.

“Half are missing.”

I’d memorized the academy’s teacher roster from its brochure. Only half the teachers were present—those aligned with the vice principal.

Even my homeroom teacher, Hectia, was absent. This was a blatant sham trial. Their intent was clear: a rushed disciplinary committee. I had no allies here.

“Yawn, when’s this over? I’ve got a family dinner.”

“It’ll be quick. Everything’s set, right?”

The teachers’ casual whispers grated on my ears.

Then, someone slipped through the slightly open door. I turned sharply, but I couldn’t focus. Even straining to see clearly, my perception blurred.

What was this strange phenomenon…?

Know-It-All (Lv 1) recalls it’s a perception-disrupting magic from the original work. It disperses the viewer’s gaze and lowers recognition.

Good grief, magic strong enough to disrupt Imperium Academy teachers’ perception?

But… why? If they were with the vice principal’s faction, there’d be no need for such magic. Who were those two?

“Attention, everyone.”

The meeting began. The vice principal declared:

“We now convene the disciplinary committee. The agenda is Cadet Martin von Targon Ulvhadin’s cheating. The three head committee members, explain the circumstances.”

The first-year head teacher stood.

“Cadet Martin’s entrance rank was 242nd out of 250 students. Yet, in this midterm, he ranked first. Notably, he used only 3 hours of the 12-hour exam time.”

The evidence was glaring enough to suggest cheating.

“Was he diligent in his studies? No. Ten days after enrollment, he committed a serious infraction, receiving suspension and penalties. He defied the committee’s sanctions, only fulfilling them after 80 days to return.”

Expulsion was understandable.

Even at a lesser school, a student like Martin would be a disgrace.

“The disciplinary department investigated suspicions about his exam results and uncovered cheating.”

“…”

“Multiple textbooks and reference books were found at Cadet Martin’s desk.”

“…”

“In light of Cadet Martin twice tarnishing the academy’s prestige, and by extension deceiving His Majesty and the empire, the committee is considering unconditional immediate expulsion.”

“The Imperium Academy… is rotten.”

"In the original work, the disciplinary committee played a submissive role."

They were bribed by the four great ducal families, ordered to suppress the commoner Gilbert’s success. A similar incident occurred, but…

Who were by the protagonist’s side? The heirs of the four great ducal families.

The committee was schooled, and the patriarchs feigned ignorance—a funny story.

“But not me.”

I was just from a count’s family. A runaway delinquent, at that.

I had no reliable allies to fend off the ducal families’ oppression. I was utterly alone. Until the jackals before me tore my body and soul apart, I could do nothing.

“Ahem! Let’s move quickly, as we’re all busy. I hereby pronounce Cadet Martin von Targon Ulvhadin’s expulsion—”

Just as the vice principal was about to deliver the verdict.

“Um…”

A delicate voice. A warm, grassy scent drifted into the heavy air of the courtroom.