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The Villain Wants to Be Dumped chapter 1

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Whitmore Academy, located in the Tehira Empire.

It was widely rumored to be the empire’s most prestigious educational institution.

One could easily guess its status just by looking at the fact that most of the empire’s past emperors, history-making scholars, great knights, and outstanding mages were alumni of Whitmore.

Even so, the people attending the academy were, after all, nothing more than young students.

“As the new semester begins, I hope our students never forget to behave properly, as befits members of a prestigious academy…”

An enormous number of students stood in neat rows inside the grand auditorium.

On the front stage, the Academy President stood behind a podium, with officials seated behind him.

Vacation had ended, and a new semester had begun.

Those gathered in the auditorium for the opening ceremony were in the middle of a very “sacred” ritual to start the term together.

On the surface, it looked impressive, but in reality, it was just a tedious time spent listening to the President’s incredibly boring moral lecture.

Without realizing it, yawns kept escaping.

Ruite couldn’t help himself and opened his mouth wide to yawn, only for a sharp gaze to fly his way from the side.

He had been caught right in the act by a professor patrolling the area.

Ruite scratched his head with a sly smile as he was nagged about how his mouth looked like it was going to rip apart.

Fortunately, he got off without a major scolding.

As he looked around to see where else the professors might be watching with hawk-like eyes, he locked eyes with another student.

Underneath thick black hair, the man’s sharp gaze was quite attractive.

He had a face that would make anyone say “wow” in admiration at first sight, but right now, he was staring this way with a deep frown.

He must have seen Ruite getting caught by the professor while yawning.

Ruite gave him an awkward smile and looked away.

Just when he felt like he might collapse from sheer boredom, the President’s lecture finally ended.

The rest of the event flowed smoothly, and the opening ceremony wrapped up in no time.

The moment the word was given that they could dismiss, the inside of the auditorium became noisy.

Today was only for this event; the semester would officially start tomorrow.

Ruite became happy at the thought of going back to the dormitory and sleeping in.

Warm sunlight poured down as he stepped out of the auditorium.

How great would it be if this sunny weather repeated every day?

While thinking that, the area behind the auditorium became a bit rowdy.

“Hey, they say the season event is happening again!”

“Who’s confessing now?”

At someone’s shout, students began flocking to one spot.

The “season event” they were talking about referred to a confession ceremony.

It was a tradition with a fairly deep history.

There was a long-standing legend that if you confessed your love behind the Whitmore auditorium on the spring opening day, your love would surely come true, you would get married, and you would stay together until you were very old.

Of course, no one knew how that legend started or if it actually worked. That was just how superstitions were.

Not many students actually acted on this legend.

After all, confessing in an open area visible from all sides—and in such a public “legendary” spot—was a high hurdle.

However, in recent years, this season event had become quite active.

“Oh? Ruite. You were here?”

Dylan approached, his curly hair fluttering.

“Yeah, now I’m heading to the dorm…”

“You’re going to see the event too, right? Let’s go quickly.”

“Uh… what?”

Before Ruite could say he wasn’t interested and had no intention of going, Dylan grabbed his arm and started dragging him toward the noisy center.

As expected of someone from the Swordsmanship Department, his strength was immense.

“Hey, hey, I told you I’m good…”

“What’s the harm? Interesting things are more fun when everyone watches together.”

Ruite wanted to ask what was so fun about it.

Even if he didn’t know who was confessing, he already knew who was receiving it and exactly how it would end.

However, unable to beat Dylan’s strength, Ruite was eventually dragged to the back of the auditorium where a crowd of students had gathered.

Thanks to Dylan’s expert skill at pushing through crowds, they were soon standing in a prime spot right at the front.

“What about the confession? Did they do it already?”

When Dylan excitedly asked around, excited voices replied, “They already did!”

Hearing Dylan’s disappointed voice saying they should have come sooner, Ruite sighed and looked up.

A female student with her hair neatly braided to one side was blushing shyly.

In front of her stood a black-haired male student—the same man who had frowned so much while watching Ruite get nagged by the professor earlier.

The reason this legendary event had started gaining so much traction was precisely because of that popular guy at Whitmore Academy, Chester Callaway.

“I’m sorry.”

A calm voice rang out.

At the tone that clearly rejected the confession, the female student and the surrounding crowd stirred.

However, most reactions seemed as though they had already expected this.

“I cannot date you, nor can I marry you.”

Just then, Ruite felt Chester’s blunt gaze.

Under that sharp look, Ruite forced his lips into a smile and pointlessly avoided his eyes.

“Chester is using that line again. He says that every time he gets a confession.”

Dylan tilted his head while stroking his chin.

“At this point, doesn’t he have someone already chosen by his family, and that person is a student here? It sounds like he’s saying that specifically for that person to hear.”

Dylan laughed and patted Ruite’s back.

To anyone else, it was a joke, but Ruite couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

Because his “intended partner” was indeed attending this school, and it was Ruite himself.

“I wonder if Rhea is an Omega? I mean, Chester is obviously an Alpha.”

“Who knows. Even if we assume Chester is an Alpha, with a face like that, would his sub-gender even matter?”

In this world, sub-genders existed.

There were Alphas and Omegas who had special physical traits and pheromones, and those who didn’t belong to those two were called Betas.

Whitmore Academy was also composed of Betas (the majority), and a small number of Alphas and Omegas.

However, since they were still students, the specific reactions of their sub-genders didn’t manifest strongly yet, making it possible for them to live together in the academy regardless of their types.

“Yeah, with that face, definitely. Anyway, it’s a bust again this time. I wonder who Chester will actually date.”

When the season event ended anticlimactically without much of a result, the gathered students began to slowly disperse while gossiping about Chester.

The girl who confessed looked a bit sad, but soon seemed relieved.

Standing blankly among the students hurrying on their way, Ruite felt a sense of skepticism about why he had been dragged here to waste time.

If he had gone earlier, he would have been traveling in dreamland on his dorm bed by now.

“What did you come here for?”

A voice spoke from the side.

Startled, Ruite turned his head to find Chester standing there with an expressionless face.

“Were you that curious whether I would accept the confession or not?”

Ruite stared into space for a moment, not quite understanding the implication.

With those words, Chester slowly walked away.

Left alone, Ruite scratched his cheek.

“No, I don’t really care who you meet…”

His low voice scattered into the air.

He fully understood why Chester spoke that way and why his attitude was so cold.

That was why he wasn’t particularly offended.

It was all going to end cleanly on graduation day anyway.

Yes, he just had to hold out until graduation day.


“Ruite, good morning.”

“Yeah, Dylan. My arm that you dragged yesterday is aching so I couldn’t sleep well, but good morning anyway.”

“That’s a pretty brutal morning greeting.”

Dylan was a Beta, a third-year like Ruite, and his “meal buddy.”

He laughed at Ruite’s blunt remark and picked up a tray.

The two naturally joined the long line in the dormitory cafeteria.

“But for someone who couldn’t sleep, your complexion looks bright?”

Dylan turned around and asked as he inspected Ruite’s face here and there.

“Actually, I slept very well. I had a good dream.”

“Oh, what was it?”

“A dream where I graduate.”

At that, Dylan’s expression became a bit complicated.

He seemed to be debating whether dreaming of graduation could be considered a “good dream.”

Well, if you asked whether that was a good dream or not, most Whitmore students would probably give different answers.

There were those who wanted to graduate quickly and become adults, while there were others who wanted to enjoy the sense of stability while belonging to the fence of the academy.

Ruite, however, was one of those who looked forward to graduation.

It wasn’t because he particularly wanted to become an adult quickly.

It was because the chance to change his bleak future would arrive at that exact time.

When was it that he had possessed a character in a fantasy novel he only knew by name?

He remembered it being around the end of his second year at the academy.

He almost fainted from shock when he opened his eyes in a dorm room to find an unknown world spread out before him.

For a while, he had sat in a daze, wondering if this was the “novel possession” he had only heard about.

And the moment he possessed the body, as if it were a prank of fate, the main plot of the original work and all the information about the character he possessed flashed clearly into his mind.

For someone like him who didn’t know the original story well, it was a welcome privilege—but he immediately fell into despair.

Because the role he possessed was a villain who would later torment and trap the protagonist.

In this world, political marriages between noble families were very common, and that was the problem.

The Everhart family, where Ruite was born as the eldest son, and the Callaway Ducal family, considered one of the most prestigious in the empire, had a relationship that had built a certain bond for a long time.

However, unlike the growing Callaway family, the Everhart family was on a downward trend.

In the end, the Count’s family had no choice but to play their last card: marrying off their eldest son, who was born an Omega, to an Alpha of the Callaway family.

“Oh, I spotted Chester.”

Just as they sat down and began to eat, Dylan whispered while looking toward one spot.

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