I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree-Chapter 46 - Who Are You Trying to Impress?

“Alright, these are the main things you need to know. You should’ve already seen the dormitory assignments posted on the wall outside your classroom, right? Go check those out, and also take a look at the student code of conduct posted outside the main lecture hall,” Hecatia said. Then, right before the students’ eyes, she disappeared.

“Uh... so does this mean class is over?” one student asked hesitantly.

“Probably...” another replied.

Lianca stood up and stormed out of the classroom.

Unbelievable. Why would the academy assign her such an irresponsible teacher?

Sure, learning was largely a personal responsibility, but having a good teacher to guide you could make the process so much more efficient.

But what was this slacker teacher supposed to be?

Was she treating her students like a burden?!

Lianca decided she would go to the headmaster and demand an explanation, even if it meant using her family’s influence or consulting her sister.

Meanwhile, other students in the classroom also began filing out after Lianca left.

Litte stood and prepared to leave, but the group that had harassed her earlier quickly surrounded her again.

“Well, well, Litte, we didn’t get much of a chance to chat earlier with the teacher around,” said the sharp-faced noble youth, stepping in front of Litte and looking down at him.

“I’ve got a few questions for you, Litte. You lived in the countryside for a long time, right? I heard that people in the countryside can barely get enough to eat or stay warm. So, tell me—was your family like that?”

“In the winter, did you starve and freeze while your ‘parents’ in the countryside told you to tough it out? And when you wanted to eat meat, they couldn’t even afford it?”

“When you think about it, life at the duke’s estate must be so much better, right? You get whatever you want, you don’t have to worry about food or clothing, and even though you’re just some bumpkin brought back from the countryside, you’ve suddenly become one of the elite.”

Litte frowned. She didn’t want to cause trouble, but these people kept provoking her over and over again. Even someone as mild-mannered as her was starting to get angry.

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Litte asked, her brow furrowed as she glared at the skinny noble.

“Litte, there’s a rumor going around that you’re not the legitimate son of the duke and duchess but an illegitimate child.”

“I mean, how else would you explain why someone would leave their own son in the countryside for over a decade?”

“Litte, you’re not like us true nobles who were born with noble blood. Sure, you’ve been taught etiquette and learned quickly, but deep down, you’re still just a poor kid from the countryside!”

The surrounding students burst into laughter.

Litte couldn’t hold back any longer. She threw a punch, hitting the leader square in the face and knocking him to the ground.

“What’s going on here?” Orson, who had been waiting for Litte at the main lecture hall, finally came to check on him after waiting too long.

When he arrived at the classroom, this was the scene he walked into.

A skinny noble was lying on the ground, clutching his face and groaning in pain while one of his lackeys crouched beside him, checking on him. Meanwhile, a group of students surrounded Litte.

Orson walked into the middle of the group, pushing aside the students around Litte, and pulled him behind him.

“Well, well, isn’t this Senior Orson...” At that moment, the noble who had been punched stood up and bowed respectfully to Orson. “As new classmates, we were just greeting Litte, but it seems Litte wasn’t in the best mood and ended up punching me.”

Orson didn’t believe the noble for a second. He knew Litte’s personality well enough to be certain he would never initiate violence.

“You’re lying,” Orson said. “Litte wouldn’t do something like that.”

“But the fact is, Litte hit me and was even about to attack my friends,” the skinny noble said, pointing to his swollen, reddened face. “If it weren’t for the fact that we outnumbered him, I might be half-dead by now.”

Orson turned to Litte.

“Litte, tell me what happened.”

“Mm...” Litte recounted the events in detail, without exaggeration. “In the end, I just couldn’t hold back anymore, so I...”

“It’s fine, Litte. You did the right thing,” Orson said, patting him on the head. He then turned to the skinny noble and glanced at the family crest on his chest, a smile forming on his lips.

“So, my dear junior, it seems your family is quite noble if you’re willing to go out of your way to make friends with my younger brother. May I ask your name?”

“Oh, no, no, Senior Orson, you’re too kind. My name is Tyril Nish.”

“If I’m not mistaken, your father is a count in the Napolis Duchy, correct?” Orson asked, his gaze sharp.

“That’s right,” Tyril said, clearly proud that Orson knew of his family.

“Your father was promoted from a low-ranking official by Duke Giovanni. If I recall correctly, your family’s origins are quite humble—you were farmers, weren’t you?” Orson said with a smile.

“Well...”

“If we’re going to dig into someone’s ancestry, not everyone’s ancestors were born nobles, right?”

“But I was born a noble, while Litte wasn’t,” Tyril said with a smirk. “I’ve been a noble for eighteen years, while Litte has only been one for a month. That’s not too much to say, is it?”

“And besides, no one even knows if he’s really the duke’s legitimate son. What if he’s just a bastard?”

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“I see.” Orson pressed his lips together, lowered his head in thought, then looked back up at Tyril. “In that case, I must apologize to you on Litte’s behalf.”

With that, Orson stepped closer to Tyril.

Behind him, Litte watched nervously, feeling a pang of guilt.

Did I cause trouble that Orson now has to clean up for me?

“There’s no need to apologize, Senior Orson. After all, even if Litte was born poor and dresses like a peasant, we’re still willing to be friends with him...”

Before Tyril could finish his sentence, Orson punched him squarely on the other side of his face.

The punch left Tyril completely stunned. The world seemed to spin around him as he collapsed to the ground, twitching and momentarily losing the ability to speak.

“Or... Orson... you...” Tyril stammered, clutching his face in disbelief as he struggled to look up at Orson. Unable to move properly, he could only stare at Orson’s shoes.

“Doesn’t that look much better?” Orson said, crouching down to look at Tyril, his expression cold. “Do you like my apology gift?”

“I was just thinking... your face looks much better when both sides are swollen.”

“Annoying little insect. Who are you trying to impress by staging this pathetic show to bully my Litte? Are you trying to win favor with your master?!”

“You!” Tyril’s senses returned, and despite the pain, he shouted in anger. “Orson! Do you have any idea about the Student Council’s rules? You can’t just attack another student on academy grounds!”

“Oh, you mean the Student Council?” Orson stood up, unfazed. “Apologies, but the Student Council election is tonight. The council hasn’t been formed yet, so they can’t do anything about this.”

“By the way, I’ll be running in tonight’s election. If you have a problem with this, feel free to file a complaint with the Student Council afterward.”

With that, he turned, his menacing aura dissipating instantly. Taking Litte’s hand, he led him out of the classroom.

“Come on, Litte. Let’s go check out the dorms.”

Litte, who had witnessed the entire scene, felt her heart pounding in her chest.

Orson... he’s so cool!

Especially when he crouched down to glare at that swollen-faced bully. From her angle, she had a perfect view of Orson’s sharp profile and chiseled features.

The intensity and determination in his eyes... it was just so handsome...

Litte felt like she might swoon.

“Litte, if you run into people like that again, just ignore them,” Orson said, comforting him.

In truth, Orson had just saved Tyril’s life.

After all, villains who humiliate the protagonist—especially by insulting their parents—always meet the same fate: death.

By beating Tyril into a swollen mess and warning him, Orson had given him the best possible outcome.

As long as Tyril didn’t provoke Litte again, he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his life.