As you were reading a book in the middle of class, your enemy — Wriothesley came up to your table and scribbled on your book, making you look up at him with an irked expression.

He looked back at you and had his signature smug smirk, that smirk that made you want to punch him, and maybe you have the privilege to do that, as you two were students in a College of Criminology.

“Heh, now I feel kind of bad for doing that.”

He told you, his smirk still on his lips.