I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!
Chapter 188 - 188: Message (1)

The Third Year who had just questioned Leon slowly turned his head toward Gideon.

A ripple of movement followed—every single student in the gathering shifted their gaze to him, their expressions ranging from curiosity to skepticism.

The air in the compound, thick with the murmurs of hushed conversations as Gideon stepped forward.

The Third Year narrowed his eyes, his posture rigid with authority. "Who are you?" he asked.

Gideon met his gaze without hesitation, his tone calm yet firm. "I am Gideon. I was with Leon when we delivered messages of the Party to our classmates."

The Third Year tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing. "And… what exactly am I misunderstanding?"

Gideon allowed a small, knowing smile to tug at the corner of his lips—subtle enough to go unnoticed by most, but present nonetheless.

"We did deliver word about the Welcome Party to Adlet," he explained, his voice carrying a quiet confidence.

"However, he informed us that he would not be attending. He then asked us to relay a message explaining his reasons to the respective Second and Third Years."

The Third Year stood motionless for a long moment, his posture composed, his expression carefully neutral.

Beneath the surface, however, a ripple of thought passed through his mind.

He wasn't particularly surprised that someone had chosen not to attend—despite the very clear instructions he had given, instructions that explicitly stated everyone must be present.

This was the Academy, after all.

A place filled with talent, arrogance, and the occasional streak of defiance.

There was always at least one or two students every year who turned out to be the pesky ones, pushing boundaries just for the thrill of it.

What did catch him off guard, however, was the sheer audacity of this particular absence.

Not only had the student refused to attend, but he had done so with brazen confidence—sending a formal message explaining why.

That was new.

Not even the most rebellious students from years prior had dared something so direct.

His gaze shifted subtly from Gideon to the gathered First Years, scanning each face with a calculated calmness, looking for some crack in their composure—shock, discomfort, confusion.

But to his mild astonishment, there was nothing of the sort.

They seemed largely unfazed, as though they had already accepted this disruption, or perhaps… expected it.

No murmurs of disbelief rippled through the gathered students.

No exchanged glances that silently asked, 'Did he really do that?'

There was none of the usual shock that should have followed such blatant defiance—just quiet acknowledgment.

A subtle, collective acceptance by all 49 students, as if Adlet's actions weren't outrageous, but entirely expected.

The Third Year's brow twitched ever so slightly. 'It hasn't even been a week since the First Years' classes began… Just what has that Adlet been doing?'

He exhaled slowly, resisting the growing urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or rub at his temples. 'Was this kid running infamy like a business?'

"Go on, tell me his message and the reasons," the Third Year said, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. He had already come this far—what was the big deal about a single message?

'I don't think it will be anything good' thought Althea, suppressing a sigh.

'That bastard is going to make us enemies of the Seniors', Alina internally groaned, already envisioning the fallout.

Roan, meanwhile, studied the Third Years carefully. 'He already knew something about this Welcome Party. Considering his personality, they really should have just left him and that message out.'

Leon, sensing the impending disaster, made a last-ditch effort. "Seniors, maybe it's better if we—"

Before he could finish, Gideon's hand landed firmly on his shoulder. The grip was light, but the message in his eyes was unmistakable: Stay out of this.

"Ahem! Ahem!" Gideon coughed a few times, clearing his throat with exaggerated effort.

Then, with a practiced air of detachment, he began, "Before I start, I'd like to clarify that while the voice is mine, every single word belongs to him. So, if anyone has a problem after hearing this message, please—I request of you beforehand—deal with him."

The Third Year shot Gideon a sharp glare, the kind that clearly said, 'Enough with the nonsense—just get on with it.'

Gideon sighed internally. 'Well, here goes nothing.'

As he prepared to recite the message, his mind briefly flashed back to earlier that day—Adlet standing before him, casually pushing open the gate, completely unbothered by the chaos he was about to unleash.

Taking a breath, Gideon began, his voice steady:

"I, Adlet, am sure my absence must be noticed at some point during the party. So, before I explain my reasons for not attending the Welcome Party arranged by our 'Great' Seniors, I would first like to share a few thoughts with the esteemed Host of the event."

At the mention of the Host, every single student instinctively turned toward Valencia.

Just moments ago, Valencia had been watching the unfolding scene with quiet helplessness.

She had seen the First Years being introduced to this meaningless tyranny, forced into traditions they had no say in. It was frustrating, but expected.

Then, Adlet's name had been called.

She had felt a flicker of surprise—someone had actually dared to skip the party? That alone was unusual. But now? Now she was completely taken aback.

A First Year—who had never even met her—had left words for her?

'No', she quickly corrected herself. 'Not for me. For the Host.'

She barely had time to process that thought before Gideon continued.

"I don't know, nor do I care, who the Host of the Welcome Party is," he recited, his voice steady despite the impending disaster. "But I have to say—whosoever is the Host is one heck of a muscle-headed, brainless fool."

Silence.

The Third Years: "…"

Valencia: "…"

"It's starting," Roan thought, unable to tear his gaze away from Gideon, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the unfolding drama.

"If you are organizing a party for someone," Gideon began, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd,

"How can you simply ask them to deliver the invitations? Just imagine—you're throwing a birthday party for your father, and then you ask your father to go around handing out the invitations. I am sure only a brainless fool is capable of such genius and great planning," he said with deliberate flair.

A ripple of amusement passed through the courtyard.

Some of the Third Years standing confidently in front of the cluster of First Years, and a few curious Second Years lingering near the back, began to stifle their laughter.

The idea that someone had just called Valencia—a well known prodigy—'a muscle-headed brainless fool' was both shocking and hilarious.

The courtyard's silence, broken only by the restrained snickers of a few students.

Those who were laughing were mostly commoners, their amusement bubbling just beneath the surface.

In contrast, the students from noble houses stood frozen, expressions twisted in disbelief.

What shocked them wasn't the crude tongue used—it was who this Adlet had just chosen as an example.

Valencia's father wasn't just a respected figure; he was the Sword Emperor—the Strongest Ascended in existence.

Joking about him, even unknowingly, was unthinkable.

Most people across the world didn't even dare to let such thoughts form in their minds.

And now, it was happening—spoken aloud in front of dozens of witnesses, right here in the academy's heart.

Elara narrowed her eyes, hearing Adlet's words with a mix of disbelief and dark amusement. 'That guy has sold his soul to insanity,' she thought grimly.

Meanwhile, Roan muffled a laugh under his breath, shaking his head slightly as a wave of nostalgia swept over him.

'If only he was here. If instead of the message, he had been the one speaking—with that commanding voice of his, I'm sure he could even look down on the daughter of the Sword Emperor without batting an eye,' he thought.

He truly missed Adlet in this place.

Meanwhile, Valencia's eyes were fixed on Gideon with a stare so sharp it felt as though she might slice his body clean in two with just a look.

Her expression was a blade forged from pure fury, and for a brief moment, the air around her seemed to still.

Gideon flinched under that chilling glare, his usual composure cracking ever so slightly.

Clearing his throat, he forced a nervous smile and said, "His words ended for the host over here, now for the reasons… Ahem."

The courtyard held its breath, though the tension had shifted.

All eyes were now on Gideon, except for Leon.

He stood silently, his gaze steady. Unlike the others, Leon knew something they didn't—Adlet's message hadn't ended there.

Leon recalled how Adlet had insulted them right after

'Keeping the genius host aside, I am not very much surprised by the fact that even the two students of the First Year Aether Class picked up the job of delivering invitations like two salivating post dogs hoping to help their masters.'

The words rang in his mind with biting clarity.

Adlet's sharp tongue spared no one, not even his own classmates.

The moment Leon recalled the words Adlet had spouted without even an inch of hesitation, a sharp pulse of anger rose within him. His jaw clenched, and almost unconsciously, his fingers curled into a tight fist at his side.

After all, in his mind, he had only been helping out a senior—nothing more, nothing less. A simple gesture of respect. 'But to be called… to be labeled as a Post D…'

Leon's thoughts stumbled over the term, his pride stung too deeply to complete it.