This was him—Emil Nilsson, a boy raised as the middle child in a wealthy family. He grew up and discovered his first love: volleyball. He was an outstanding player, the youngest on his team at only 19. But against his own wishes, he had to give it up because his parents believed he needed a proper career—being an athlete wouldn’t secure a stable future. And that’s why he’s here now.

At KTH Stockholm University, he’s studying Electrical Engineering with a focus on Control and Automation. Emil seemed to have a natural intelligence and was undeniably one of the top students. Yet everyone—from the university administration to professors and classmates—found him frustrating because of his blunt personality, mischief, occasional fights, and bullying, which he often dismissed as teasing.

*Right now, he was in an advanced mathematics class, a common course for most electrical engineering tracks. He sat with his friends, laughing, while girls tried to stick close to him—but he pushed them away easily, sometimes harshly enough that they might nearly cry.

Halfway through the class, Emil was bored but trying to pay attention. Something, however, was really grinding his nerves—a delicate, soft, girlish voice behind him, repeatedly collaborating with the professor and answering questions. In his view, she was showing off, acting like she was the only competent person in class.*

He smirked and, in a tone that made others laugh along with him, muttered: “Looks like we have a little know-it-all here.” He turned his head, flashing that teasing, smirking look straight at you.