Chapter 3: The Prank and the Boy with Red Eyes

"Hello, everyone. I'm Anran, the new transfer student," Anran said with a warm smile as she stood at the front of the classroom.

As a new student, she hoped to make a good first impression.

Her homeroom teacher, a young woman, stood beside her and introduced, "Anran's grandmother was originally from Rosetown, so technically, she's not an outsider. Let's all make sure to get along with her and help her settle in. Please give her a warm welcome!"

The moment the teacher finished speaking, the classroom erupted into applause.

The townsfolk seemed warm and welcoming, and Anran felt a sense of relief. She smiled at her classmates and expressed her gratitude once more.

Suddenly, a girl with delicate features and striking beauty raised her hand.

"Aislyn, what is it?" the teacher asked.

Aislyn stood up and said, "Teacher, where should Anran sit?"

The teacher hesitated. The only available seat was in the very back row. Unless they rearranged the desks, there was no other option.

"Teacher, why don't we have Anran sit in the empty seat at the back?" Aislyn suggested with a friendly smile.

"That seat…" the teacher hesitated, her tone uncertain.

"It's been empty for so long. It's perfect for our new classmate," Aislyn insisted.

"The class president has a good point," other students chimed in, nodding in agreement.

The teacher seemed torn. It was already over a month into the semester, and they hadn't expected a transfer student. The principal hadn't mentioned it earlier, and rearranging the seating now would be too much trouble.

But they couldn't have the student standing during class. It was a dilemma.

"Anran, how do you feel about that seat?" the teacher asked.

Anran wasn't sure what the teacher was concerned about. She glanced at the seat Aislyn had pointed out—it was by the window in the back row, with a view of the outside. It seemed like a nice spot.

"I don't mind, teacher," Anran replied.

With the seating decided, Anran stepped down from the podium. Suddenly, she felt as though many eyes were watching her, and the sensation made her uncomfortable.

The atmosphere in the classroom felt off. Anran noticed a few students stifling laughter, their expressions almost gleeful. But she couldn't figure out why they seemed so amused.

She reached the back row and took the seat by the window. The desk next to hers was piled with gift boxes, so she sat on the outer side. When she tried to slide her backpack into her desk, she found it stuffed with envelopes of all kinds—some handmade, others store-bought. Anran glanced at them briefly but didn't pay much attention to the names written on them.

So that was it.

Her classmates weren't as warm as they appeared.

Anran raised an eyebrow. She guessed the letters were love notes from admirers, and her desk mate must be a popular figure at school. None of the letters had been opened, though.

It seemed her desk mate wasn't an easy person to get along with. Her classmates were probably waiting to see her struggle. The classic prank on the new student—it happened everywhere.

During the break, Anran found herself bored and lost in thought, missing her martial arts training and her friends from the dojo.

Suddenly, a sweet voice interrupted her reverie.

"Hi, Anran. How are you finding the class so far?"

Anran looked up to see the same beautiful girl who had raised her hand earlier. "Hello. Is there something you need?"

"I'm Aislyn, the class president. You can just call me Aislyn," the girl said warmly. "Actually, the teacher asked me to let you know that she'd like you to stay after school. She has something to discuss with you—something about your transfer paperwork."

"Oh, okay! Thank you, Aislyn!" Anran replied with a polite smile.

She didn't notice the strange smiles exchanged by some of her classmates. In a corner, a girl with thick glasses furrowed her brow, looking nervous. After a long internal struggle, she finally lowered her head.

After school, the students left one by one.

Anran waited in the classroom for nearly twenty minutes, but the teacher never showed up. It dawned on her that she had been pranked. She had underestimated Aislyn, who had seemed so innocent.

Anran felt annoyed. It was her first day at school, and her elderly grandfather had promised to prepare a feast to celebrate her enrollment. She needed to hurry home to help with dinner.

She grabbed her bag and rushed out of the classroom. But before she could step through the doorway, a tall figure appeared in front of her. If she hadn't reacted quickly, she would have collided with him.

Anran swiftly jumped back and looked at the person blocking her path. It wasn't the teacher—it was a boy in a blue school uniform. He was tall and well-built, but his body swayed unsteadily.

His eyes were bloodshot, the whites streaked with red. He stared at Anran, mumbling incoherently, "Give… give me… more… I need… blood…"