Happy Evil Heartbreaker [Modern LitRPG]

The opening ceremony of the sports meet concluded spectacularly.

After the lively and dynamic performance by Class 1-3 of the first year, few other classes could match their level of energy and creativity.

Even if other classes had their own unique costumes and eccentricities, none of them had a team leader as charismatic as Xanthia La Papadopoulos, who could stir the entire audience into a frenzy.

With that alone, Class 1-3 had already won!

They were undoubtedly the most eye-catching class among all the participants.

In contrast to the vibrant energy of the first-year students, the second-year classes were generally more subdued and conservative, mostly playing the role of spectators.

However, they had to admit that this batch of first-year students, especially Class 1-3, was quite impressive!

Even setting aside the lead of the class in her maid outfit, the array of talent within Class 1-3 was akin to an idol star-studded team.

Their slogans were especially entertaining and relatable, creating the biggest laugh of the event, and their leader, looking ethereal as a fairy, was the highlight of the entire show.

Many years from now, the members of Class 1-3 would likely still remember this day of unrestrained fun, their youth so vivid and colorful.

After the opening ceremony, students in unusual costumes who would participate in upcoming events generally returned to their dorms to change into suitable sportswear.

Some athletes even donned more professional training outfits and spikes. Although the school sports meet was not an official competition, there were still awards to be won. Gold, silver, and bronze medals could earn significant points for their classes, and the top-ranked classes would receive certificates and honorary diplomas personally awarded by the principal during the closing ceremony.

So, even though the gold, silver, and bronze medals might be mere tokens, the opportunity to win gold could not be missed, as it was a chance to bring collective honor to the class.

Xanthia did not need to change clothes; she simply had to remove her wig, leaving her maid headband as a hairband.

Her 3000-meter long-distance run was scheduled for the next day, placing it among the final events.

Today, her role was to cheer for her teammates at the class's viewing point or, alternatively, to go to the temporary broadcasting station on the observation deck and read the cheer messages written by her classmates as a special broadcaster.

Class 1-3's team spirit was commendable. Under the leadership of class monitor Ryan, everyone who wasn’t participating in events had to write a few cheer messages. Even if they copied them from the internet and made slight modifications, the focus was on quantity over quality.

This reflected Ryan's influence since his deputy, Lilim, was less popular, and no one would listen to her if she were in charge.

Additionally, to encourage students not participating in the events to engage in the atmosphere, the school had introduced a special group award for the class with the most cheer messages.

Some classes, aware of their lack of athletic prowess, focused on this aspect to accumulate points.

For example, the experimental class 1-2, although strong academically and able to compete with Class 1, had a lack of sports talent.

Class 1, despite having few sports experts, had Dionysius, known as the best student of the school, who was quite strong in sports due to his size and strength, capable of outmatching Marcus in a one-on-one.

Besides Dionysius, Class 1 also had several high-achieving girls who were excellent in both academics and physical fitness. Winning medals in multiple events could significantly boost their class’s total points and mildly defend the honor of the experimental class.

Class 1-3, being a semi-experimental class, couldn’t match the top experimental classes in terms of academic results, but sports meets were all about athletic ability, not academics.

This was a prime opportunity for the lower-performing students led by Marcus El Postachio in Class 3. Even Emmanuel, who usually had a frosty demeanor towards them, had to be more amiable in the past few days.

For the homeroom teacher, class honors were always welcome, as they could contribute to performance evaluations.

This sports meet also featured some fun individual events like stilt running, five-legged race, and one-legged chicken fighting.

These fun events provided a chance for classes with less overall athletic ability to earn some points and avoid a poor total score.

For the audience, these quirky events were highly entertaining, adding extra enjoyment to the meet.

At this moment, Principal Herculano announced that the formation could disband, and there would be ample preparation time before the referees and athletes took their positions to begin the competitions.

Many students from Class 1-3 who needed to compete went straight to their dorms to change into suitable sportswear.

Xanthia also planned to return the class banner to the designated sports room.

On her way, she ran into Dionysius, who was also returning his class banner, accompanied by his friend Santos El Zanthos.

“Xanthia, your outfit today is indeed unique!” Dionysius smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

Xanthia smiled in return, “Yours is great too. Class 1’s presentation was quite impressive. How did you manage to get such coordinated costumes?”

“It doesn’t matter how impressive we look; compared to you, the dazzling leader of Class 3, our Class 1 seems like mere decoration,” Dionysius complimented.

Santos, standing next to him, frowned slightly, clearly displeased with the idea of being mere decoration. He thought their class was the one on the right track, while Class 3 relied on gimmicks.

“By the way, getting the coordinated outfits wasn’t my achievement but rather that of my good friend here. Let me introduce him—this is Santos. His family is quite influential in the light industry, including the apparel sector.”

Dionysius wasn’t seeking undue credit; in fact, he was the one who could mobilise Santos.

Hearing his friend’s words, Santos’s displeasure vanished, but he remained aloof in front of Xanthia, as if unaffected by her beauty.

Xanthia, activating her social charm, gracefully said, “Hello, Santos. I’m Xanthia. Nice to meet you.”

Santos remained distant, but inwardly, he was pleased. It was his first time meeting Dionysius’s “sister,” and her first impression was quite good—clearly, she was acknowledging his attractiveness and charm!

Santos, with his self-absorbed attitude, felt a strange sense of pride, even though this was just a polite greeting.

And then… there was nothing more.

Dionysius enthusiastically took a photo with his sister in the maid outfit, with Santos handling the camera.

“Would you like to take a photo with Xanthia?” After taking a group picture, Dionysius casually asked.

“Of course not. She’s not as good-looking as I am. If we took a photo together, she’d just be a background figure,” Santos said with an air of arrogance.

He kept his voice low so Xanthia wouldn’t hear, as he was still mindful of his image in front of her and didn't show off as much in front of Dionysius.

“A guy comparing himself to a girl in terms of looks? That’s something,” Dionysius replied with a sarcastic tone.

As a pretty boy, Santos did have a somewhat feminine appearance. If he grew his hair long and dressed in women’s clothes, he could indeed be called a “cross-dressing master.”

“We live in an era of gender equality. Why can’t men compare their looks with women?” Santos retorted with righteous indignation.

Dionysius was left speechless.

Dionysius, engrossed in taking joyful photos with his sister, had forgotten to ask her which events she would be participating in.

He mentally cursed Marcus for being so unreliable and leaving Class 3 shrouded in uncertainty.

After their brief interaction, Xanthia parted ways with them to head back to her classroom and remove her wig.

Returning to her seat, Xanthia was about to take off her wig when Elena La Loannou, who had just come back to the classroom, said, “Xanthia, don’t be in such a hurry to take off your wig. Let me film a short video of you and edit it. It’s not often we get to see you in this outfit; it’d be a shame not to capture it.”

Since Elena’s family had fallen on hard times, she had been thinking of ways to support herself. Besides her hobbies of playing games and raising dogs, she had started leveraging her beauty, as the internet era had made internet celebrities prevalent.

In this world, when interviewing elementary school students about their future dreams, you won’t hear answers like “scientist” or “scholar.” Instead, they want to be internet celebrities, stars, or wealthy tycoons—everything aligned with money.

Elena had been making short videos on MeTube for a while, but she didn’t have many followers. As an independent content creator without any agency backing, her chances of becoming a popular internet celebrity were slim.

Her looks might surpass some MeTube stars, but with the advanced beauty filters and makeup techniques, those stars don’t need to be exceptionally attractive. They gain popularity through gimmicks and exposure.

Elena, however, was quite concerned about her image and wasn’t very daring unlike others showing their souls in public eyes, not even with selfies and short videos, which reduced her competitiveness in this field.

Nevertheless, Elena had picked up some skills along the way, learning how to find angles and poses to make her videos look more appealing and charming.

Xanthia, always open to trying new things and having fun, agreed to Elena’s request. She decided to keep the wig on and join her in filming MeTube videos.

Xanthia had a MeTube account for browsing videos but had never posted any. If Elena’s video turned out well and the editing was good, she didn’t mind sharing it on her personal platform, just for fun.

During filming, Elena realized that Xanthia was exceptionally photogenic and seemed to have a natural talent for the camera.

In front of the lens, Xanthia was completely at ease, going all out and showing a flair for the dramatic.

“Xanthia, I think you’ve got such great camera presence that you could easily become an actress. Even if acting doesn’t work out, you’d definitely make it as a girl group idol,” Elena marveled.

Xanthia thought to herself that her Level 1 acting skills were coming into play. Although it was just the basics, once you’re in the groove, finding the right angle and presenting your best side in front of the camera becomes second nature.

“As for acting, my skills are still lacking, but as a girl group idol, I’m quite confident,” Xanthia responded confidently, thanks to her Level 2 singing and dancing skills!

While not at a professional level, her skills were more than sufficient. However, becoming a girl group idol came with risks, such as attracting the attention of wealthy individuals who might sabotage her career.

Online jokes often highlighted the three main beauty standards: girl groups chosen by wealthy ugly tycoons wanting harem, the well-groomed models of Kpop, and actresses backed by oil companies.

“You’re really good at singing. I love listening to your live performances after class. But are you also great at dancing?” Elena asked, curious.

“Pretty good, I mostly learned from a dance machine.”

“Uh… you must be joking.”

Elena laughed again, finding Xanthia’s deadpan humor amusing. A dance machine was just a stepping-stone game; it was hard to believe it could teach real dancing.

Elena herself had studied dance when her family was well-off, which helped develop her taste. However, she had mostly abandoned it later on.

Interest classes in childhood are often about following parental expectations rather than genuine passion. Most kids who can’t endure the hardships eventually give up.

“I’m not joking. How about you play some music, and I’ll do an impromptu dance? Freestyle!” Xanthia said excitedly.

She wasn’t sure what kind of impromptu dance she would perform, but she was confident she could dance!

She loved showcasing her skills. After all, having skills meant nothing if they were only displayed on a system panel; they needed to be used in practice to bring her joy.

Elena was indeed intrigued and played a favorite girl group song, “NoNoNo,” performed by Hanton. Unlike Lhoraine, who enjoyed Japanese dance, Elena was fond of K-pop.

Xanthia wasted no time. Hearing the song, she activated her Level 2 dancing skills. Her mind quickly conjured up dance moves that matched the song, so she didn’t need to improvise; she just followed choreography of the girl kpop group.

Elena, who initially just wanted to see a bit of fun, was completely amazed. Her earlier excitement vanished as her face showed profound shock!

Inside, Elena was screaming—she thought Xanthia was just a lively person with big talk, but she turned out to be a true performer!

Her Level 2 dancing skills, though not comparable to professional dancers or masters, reached the pinnacle of amateur talent!

Such a level of performance at a school event would make anyone a star, and there was no doubt about it!

Elena, who loved K-pop dance, knew that Xanthia’s dance performance, which was perfectly synced with the original choreography, meant her dance skills were genuinely impressive, not just talk!

She was both shocked and excited, continuing to film. Xanthia had exceeded her expectations, proving to be a true gem of a beauty and talent!

Elena didn’t make Xanthia dance for long; after all, it was just for a short video, and they had more than enough material. She had witnessed Xanthia’s dancing skills firsthand and was thoroughly impressed!

“Xanthia! You’ve really been hiding your skills. Did you happen to practice this dance privately? You’re so smooth!” Elena exclaimed.

“It’s nothing much. I’ve probably danced to this on the dance machine before. It’s just muscle memory—no need to make a fuss,” Xanthia replied with an air of casual indifference.

Inside, Xanthia’s joy was growing, but she maintained an outwardly calm demeanor.

Elena gave her a thumbs up. “Amazing! You’re so modest, it’s almost excessive. Watch out or you might get a beating!”

That would be impossible. I have the "Malicious Notebook" to detect ill intentions in advance. Even if I show off excessively, I won’t be afraid of being beaten; rather, it only brings me more joy, Xanthia thought to herself.

After finishing the short video with Elena, Xanthia finally removed her wig and, still comfortably dressed in the system’s maid outfit, prepared to join the rest of the group at the Class 3 viewing area on the field to cheer for the athletes.

Just as everyone was getting ready, no one expected Hera, dressed in an elaborate gown, to suddenly walk up to the podium. Angrily, she declared, “Everyone, hold on! Our class has a lingerie thief! My underwear, which I’d changed out of, has been stolen by some lowly tard! If you’ve got any decency, come forward and admit it. I can forgive you if you do. Remember, my underwear is from a top luxury brand, worth over a thousand romani. Stealing it could lead to criminal charges!”

Hera’s extravagant gown made it clear that she wasn’t wearing traditional underwear but adhesive pasties instead. Her underwear was stored in a small room at the back of the classroom.

When she returned and wanted to change out of the gown, she discovered that her underwear had vanished!

Most girls, to avoid embarrassment, might stay silent about such a matter, as losing underwear would be too shameful.

But Hera was no ordinary girl. Known as the "Fart Queen," she could boldly state that after numerous public embarrassments, she had grown accustomed to it. As long as her mental fortitude was strong enough, she wouldn’t be bothered by any shame!

Her furious accusation about the “underwear thief” immediately stirred up chaos in the class—

“Dude, which bloke has such a peculiar taste as to nick someone’s underwear, and of all people, it’s the Fart Queen’s…”

“Hera’s causing another scene. Does she really think some chap would steal her underwear?”

“Tsk, I wonder if the Fart Queen’s ‘original flavour’ underwear is particularly pungent?”

“Your taste is pretty heavy as well. She’s practically a walking biochemical entity. Remember when her fart scattered all the muscle-bound delinquents in the back rows? Noemi was unconscious and in delirium at the time! And you still dare to speculate about her ‘original flavour’ underwear?”

The commotion in the class grew louder, with everyone taking sides or making light of the situation, while Hera’s frustration was palpable.