Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

Chapter 135 Club Members



At the far end of the dining hall, a group of students was seated in a luxurious section, their table adorned with elegant dishware and candles, enjoying fine dining. The rich aroma of gourmet meals filled the air as they savored their food. Their chatter, though casual, was laced with an air of superiority, contrasting the tension building in the rest of the hall.

"This should be interesting," said a girl with piercing eyes and a chilling smile, lightly swirling a glass of red wine in her hand as she observed the brewing conflict below.

Her sister, seated next to her, scoffed. "Get over it, sister. He's just going to embarrass himself. These upstarts always do."

The atmosphere around their table shifted as a tall, buff student approached, adjusting his glasses. His voice carried authority. "No one knows how this showdown will unfold," he said thoughtfully. "But I'd like to see what this boy can do. Let's see if you rejected him because he's weak or if there's something more... special about him."

Another student, seated higher up, chuckled darkly, flashing a mischievous grin as he looked down at the confrontation below. "True. I agree with the president. I'd love to see the boy that nearly made Auntie kill her own brother."

The group's opinions were somewhat divided, some dismissive of Jett's abilities, while others showed more interest in his potential. Despite their differences, they all shared a mutual curiosity about the boy causing such a stir.

The president, a commanding figure, casually sipped his tea, his gaze scanning the crowd below. "Hey, you," he called out to a student refilling his cup. "What class are you?"

The student stiffened, spilling a bit of tea as he stammered, "A... t-tank, sir."

The president waved him off dismissively. "That won't do. Forget it."

He glanced around the hall, his voice carrying over the hushed conversations. "Who here's a mage? It doesn't matter what you specialize in. I have a job for you, and I'm willing to pay 100,000 points."

The hall fell into an uneasy silence for a few seconds. 100,000 points was an enormous sum, even for the wealthiest of students. Whispers spread quickly, and a few eyes darted around nervously. Finally, a girl seated a few tables over hesitantly raised her hand, her reluctance palpable but her ambition stronger.

"Umm, I'm a mage," Lyla said nervously, her voice barely audible above the low murmur of conversations in the dining hall.

"Wonderful. What's your name?" the president gestured for her to come closer, his tone calm yet commanding.

Lyla hesitated before stepping forward. As she walked toward him, her steps were slow, cautious. You could tell by her trembling hands and the way she glanced around that she was scared, unsure of what she had just gotten herself into. She swallowed hard before stammering, "L-Lyla."

The president smiled, though his eyes remained calculating. "Alright, Lyla, I want you to join that team against the kid over there," he instructed, pointing toward Jett, who was still standing near the entrance.

The others at the table exchanged curious glances. They couldn't quite predict what the president was thinking. Why would he waste so many points on something that seemed so trivial?

"Really, boss? You're willing to spend that much for trash like him?" one of the students muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

The president's demeanor shifted instantly. He shot the speaker a sharp, cold stare, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that silenced the entire group. The student quickly shut his mouth, the tension at the table palpable.

A small, knowing smile curled at the president's lips as he leaned back. "I want to see what an offspring of Grift can do," he said, his voice laced with intrigue.

Before anyone could respond, an authoritative voice rang out behind them. "What do you think you're doing, Ross?"

The president flinched slightly, his calm facade breaking for just a moment as he turned to see a tall redhead with a sabre strapped to her waist standing behind him. Lana, the fierce and no-nonsense member of the academy, glared at him with piercing eyes.

"Ah, Lana," Ross greeted her, his earlier confidence replaced with a hint of nervousness. "Nice of you to drop by."

"I heard something worth my time was happening here, but instead, I find myself greeted by the sight of you wasting points again," Lana said, her voice sharp as she moved toward the veranda railing. She hissed under her breath when she spotted Jett, her disdain for him evident in her expression.

"I'm not wasting points," Ross replied, his nervous tone shifting back into his usual charm. "It seems like all your siblings have a problem with this kid. I want to know why."

Lana's eyes darkened as she glanced back at Jett, the tension between them clear. "He's trouble. That's all you need to know."

"That's none of your business. Good thing you're not in charge of our club funds," Lana sighed as she walked over and sat next to Ross, her presence commanding attention.

Ross, ever calm, adjusted his glasses and sighed. "Well, that's not a nice thing to say to your club president."

Lana rolled her eyes, her tone sharp. "Don't embarrass yourself Mr. President, you're not the boss of me. I'm not as nice as my older sister over there." She glanced across the table, locking eyes with someone sitting quietly. "Right, Dana?"

Dana, seated on the other side, smiled gently but didn't respond immediately. Before she could speak, the young blonde boy from earlier, with a fine physique and no visible weapons, chimed in, clearly enjoying the tension. "Come on, Lana, you really should be more respectful to him. He's your president after all," he said with a sarcastic tone, his smirk giving away that he was teasing.

Lana's eyes narrowed dangerously as she leaned forward. "One more word and I'll slice your legs where you stand," she threatened, her hand hovering near the hilt of her saber.

The boy, grinned playfully. "I'd like to see you try, sis."

Before the situation could escalate further, Dana finally stepped in, her voice calm but authoritative. "Lana, Lance, that's enough." Her words were enough to make them pause, though the tension between the siblings remained thick in the air.

The other students around the table were clearly more wary of Lana and Lance than they were of Ross. Despite Ross being the club president, the raw presence and sharp edges of the siblings seemed to have a much more intimidating effect on everyone around.

"This better be good," Lana muttered, glancing toward the scene about to unfold. "But I guess I shouldn't expect much from a first year."

"You say that like I'm not sitting right here," a soft voice added from the side.

Lance blinked in surprise, turning toward the voice. "Lisa? When did you get here?"

Lisa, who shared the same sharp features and unmistakable traits of Lance and Lana, sat quietly, her arms crossed as she observed. "I've been here the whole time," she replied flatly, clearly annoyed that no one had noticed her until now.

Ross chuckled, but then his attention shifted as he noticed movement from across the room. "It seems like they're leaving. I guess it's starting," he said with a smile, turning to Lyla. "Go, add up the numbers."

The atmosphere in the room changed almost instantly as Lyla stood up, her nervous energy palpable. The quiet tension turned into a low murmur as students began to whisper about the upcoming duel, their eyes flickering between Jett and the group forming against him.

Lyla hurried away, her heart racing as she moved to join the challengers, her steps quick and shaky as if the weight of the challenge was already upon her.


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