I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!
Chapter 170 - 170: Mind And Will Training(5)

As Flakey's words settled into the air, the classroom fell into a wave of silence, the weight of his lesson still lingering.

For many students, the perception they had of their instructor—a man they initially viewed as nothing more than the funny, eccentric type—had shifted.

There was depth beneath his antics, a sharpness they hadn't expected.

And with that realization, came a newfound respect.

Flakey, noticing the quiet tension, clapped his hands together once, signaling a change in tone.

"Now that the serious talk is over, let's move on to the next question."

His energy shifted, though the intensity of his previous words hadn't completely faded.

"In this world, what is one thing most related to your Mind or Will? Everyone possesses it—yet I'm sure none of you knows about it."

Then—almost as an afterthought—he muttered to himself—

"Wow, that sounded more like a riddle than a question."

The students fell into thought, yet this time—no hands were raised.

Flakey sighed, shaking his head before stretching his arms forward in exaggerated disappointment.

"This isn't fun."

His playful complaint carried through the classroom, his gaze flickering toward the hesitant faces of his students.

"I guess I'll have to select someone myself."

Lifting a single finger, he began slowly moving it across the classroom, scanning the students one by one.

The reaction was immediate.

Those who felt the weight of his selection brush past them internally wished for it to move onto the next person.

After all—saying "I don't know" in front of the entire class was humiliating.

Especially for the nobles, who couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness in front of their peers.

Flakey's finger drifted lazily over the gathered students, scanning faces with a casual ease, letting the anticipation build.

It passed over Leon, then Althea, Alina—before finally stopping on Isolde.

For a moment, Isolde tensed, preparing to speak despite having no answer.

Yet—just as the pressure settled on her, Flakey's finger suddenly shifted, redirecting toward the back of the class.

With a dramatic motion, Flakey pointed toward the new target, his grin widening as he declared—

"You will be the one answering, famous one."

Immediately, the students turned their heads, following the trajectory of his finger.

And sitting there—seemingly in the spotlight—was Adlet.

Or—so it seemed.

Ashok who had chosen to be seated the backseats this time, just like the students seated in the front, had turned backward on purpose, his attention locked on the figure behind him.

Roan.

Roan, despite knowing that the finger wasn't pointed at him, couldn't help but hesitate.

After all—Adlet's gaze was unwavering, filled with a confidence that made even Roan second-guess reality for a brief moment.

Even Flakey's position—standing atop a tree stump—added to the illusion, making it seem as though his selection had shifted ever so slightly.

For just a second, Roan faltered.

"Me?" he asked unconsciously, his eyes flickering toward Flakey.

"No! No! Not you—the one in front of you."

His finger remained steadfast, pointed directly at Adlet.

Roan exhaled quietly, settling back into his seat.

Meanwhile—all eyes now rested on Adlet, waiting for him to respond.

Ashok had expected his little trick to work, a quiet escape from Flakey's selection

With a faint click of his tongue, he turned, his movements controlled, yet unmistakably reluctant.

As his gaze shifted—he immediately noticed something unavoidable.

Every single student was staring at him.

Even Flakey, who stood atop his tree stump, was still pointing directly at him—as if ensuring there was no room for doubt.

For a moment, the subtle focus on the lesson had allowed Ashok to slip into the background making his attention go back to none.

But now—that fragile cover had shattered completely.

[Attention Level: Maximum]

[False Monarch]

The intensity of the gaze surrounding him spiked, his presence now fully recognized by every single person in the class.

Flakey let out a satisfied hum, arms crossed as he nodded to himself.

"Yes! I was talking about you."

His words carried no hesitation—no confusion.

"Adlet—that's your name, isn't it?"

His grin widened slightly.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, but you're quite famous among the teachers."

Ashok didn't respond, his expression carefully neutral, his posture relaxed—but not engaged.

The remark held no real weight to him.

After all—it had never been his plan to gain favor with every single teacher.

His focus had already been on building affinity around the three Senior Teachers and he had already started with Hamiel and Frederick, a deliberate move based on his own strategy.

But Flakey?

He wasn't a bit part of Ashok's plans.

And so—he simply remained silent, his lack of response an unspoken message.

Flakey, still standing atop his tree stump, tilted his head slightly, watching Ashok with an amused flicker in his gaze.

"So, Mr. Adlet—do you know the thing that is most closely tied to both Mind and Will?"

His tone carried playful curiosity, though his expression hinted that he wasn't expecting much.

"Though, looking at your face, it doesn't feel like you—"

Before he could finish—Ashok cut him off.

His voice was clear, unwavering, commanding—

"Soul Trait."

The answer sent an instant ripple through the class, but rather than immediate agreement—it was met with disbelief.

Elara's brow furrowed, her thoughts turning sharp—

'There's no way Soul Trait is the answer.'

Her entire upbringing, her studies, and her experiences had never once touched on such a connection.

Meanwhile—Alina scoffed internally, her reaction immediate.

'Idiot.'

Leon, however, felt a flicker of doubt creep in.

His own Soul Trait—Unbending Will—was directly linked to the very concept of Will itself.

Could it mean Adlet was right?

'Does this mean his answer is correct?'

Now every pair of eyes turned back onto Flakey, the students waited—expecting an instant dismissal.

Yet—it never came.

Instead—Flakey remained utterly still, staring at Ashok with wide eyes, his expression frozen in a moment of realization.

And in that instant, the classroom knew.

It wasn't a trick.

It wasn't a fluke.

It was right.

The thought sank into the minds of every student present—solidifying itself in quiet disbelief.

'It can't be… It was actually correct.'

"How did you know that?"

The question hung in the air, curiosity evident in his tone.

Ashok, unfazed, responded with calm detachment—

"Was I not supposed to know that?"

Flakey blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the response, before quickly correcting himself.

"No! That's not what I mean—Wait! Don't answer a teacher's question with another question."

Flakey suddenly realized he had unconsciously answered Ashok's counter instead of pushing further.

The classroom remained silent, observing the exchange with growing interest.

Without missing a beat, Ashok gave his answer—though false in nature.

"I just guessed."

There was no hesitation in his words.

Of course—it was a lie.

He had already known the answer from the game.

Flakey hummed softly, analyzing the response before shifting his approach.

"Then! Can you explain the reason behind your guess?"

The question carried a subtle expectation, a challenge beneath the surface.

Ashok, maintaining his controlled demeanor, simply responded—

"Depends on the Type and Usage."

Flakey, sensing that Ashok was moving in the right direction, paused—waiting for him to elaborate.

Yet—Ashok said nothing more.

Flakey blinked, his anticipation met with silence.

"That's it?"

His voice carried mild disbelief, his brows slightly raised.

Ashok nodded, completely unfazed.

"That's It."

Flakey exhaled dramatically, shaking his head before addressing the class.

"How was that an explanation? Do you think anyone in the class understood anything from that?"

Without waiting, he turned toward the gathered students and raised his voice playfully—

"Say—did anyone understand anything?"

Before anyone could respond to Flakey's prompt, Ashok's voice cut through the silence, his tone carrying a sharp edge.

"I thought 'Gestures are enough for a wise person.' Don't tell me everyone in the Aether Class is a fool."

His words hung in the air, deliberate and unyielding.

The class stiffened, their expressions shifting as the challenge embedded itself within the atmosphere.

"Well! What can I do if there's a fool among us? So—who's the one that didn't understand my explanation?"

Several students who had initially considered raising their hands, spurred by Flakey's encouragement, suddenly froze in hesitation.

After all—who in their right mind would openly admit 'I am a fool' in front of the entire class?

One by one, the intended responses vanished, replaced by an uneasy stillness.

And in that moment—Ashok turned his gaze toward Flakey.

His expression remained steady—calm, controlled—as he finally spoke.

"Teacher, everyone understood my explanation. Should I explain it for you?"

Across the classroom, thoughts shifted, some internal reactions nearly spoken aloud in disbelief.

'Crazy.' Roan thought, the sheer audacity catching him off guard.

'His insolence knows no end.' Elara's mind hissed, her irritation barely concealed.

'Mr. Special truly has no fear.' Gideon mused, half in amusement, half in genuine surprise.

Yet—it was Flakey's reaction that held the most weight.

Flakey blinked, the playful flicker in his expression tightening, his amusement twisting into something unexpectedly personal.

A single vein snapped across his forehead, the unspoken pressure mounting.

His fingers twitched slightly, his posture shifting—not in anger, but in forced control.

For the first time, Flakey found himself in an unfamiliar predicament.

If he admitted Ashok was wrong—he could correct him.

But if he admitted he himself didn't fully understand Ashok's explanation…

Then—he would be the fool.

Never had he imagined that a first-year student would try to pick a fight with him.

Flakey, his arms crossed, exhaled lightly as he took in the silence settling over the class.

"Very well! Since everyone is in agreement, there's no need for further explanation."

His gaze shifted, scanning the expressions before him.

"Instead, let's take a step forward— Mr. Adlet how about an example?"

His words hung briefly in the air, lingering as he waited for a response.

Without hesitation, Ashok answered—his voice carrying calm certainty.

"Supernatural."

The moment the word left his lips, Flakey's eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands together with approval.

"Correct!"

His enthusiasm wasn't exaggerated—it was genuine.

Turning his attention to the class, he shifted his stance, ensuring every student was paying attention.

"In this world, the thing most closely tied to your Mind and Will is your Soul Trait."

His voice held weight, delivering a truth many had never considered before today.

"Your Soul Trait is a representation of your true essence—your very being."

His words settled among the students, and while many processed the importance of the statement, Flakey wasn't finished.

"However—Supernaturals are different."

His tone dipped slightly, the lesson taking on a more complex depth.

"The source of a strong Soul Trait—one powerful enough to shift the balance of the world—remains an absolute mystery."

He let the idea settle before continuing.

"It is often attributed to luck—but let me tell you honestly…"

A slow breath. A brief pause.

His next words came with deliberate emphasis—

"More than luck—it is a curse."

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