From Master Assassin to a Random Extra: OP in a Dating Sim
Chapter 57: Class Wars and Character Roles

Chapter 57: Class Wars and Character Roles

Leon gave an irritated smile at Marcus, his fingers slipping from Victoria’s sleeve with reluctant elegance.

"Red flag?" he repeated, voice laced with mocking amusement.

He laughed—short, cold, and condescending.

"And what makes you different from me? From where I’m standing, you’re just another delinquent with a superiority complex."

Marcus let out a dry chuckle of his own, the sound crackling like flint against stone. The tension between them coiled tighter, their presence warping the atmosphere like two mana-charged magnets locked in opposition.

"At least I don’t act like a possessive asshole," Marcus snapped, his grin sharpening.

Righteous Prince, my ass... he acts like your standard smut character.

Marcus mused bitterly, watching Leon through narrowed, dark eyes. They gleamed with focused irritation, a stark contrast to Leon’s icy blue gaze that gleamed with authority and veiled contempt.

Probably the reason why I wasn’t so interested in the story of the game in the first place.

Flat characters with shiny veneers and toxic cores.

Before the brewing storm between them could explode into something unmanageable, the loud chime of the academy bell echoed across the courtyard. A moment later, twin doors at the back of the main building swung open, releasing a sea of students who began pouring into the courtyard like a summoned tide.

"What...? Didn’t the bell just ring?" Marcus muttered, watching in mild confusion as the tide kept flowing. "Why is everyone going out?"

Leon cast him a withering look, head tilting ever so slightly like a noble deigning to explain something to a particularly slow servant.

"You didn’t even check the schedule?" he asked, voice heavy with scorn. "The Trial of Forests on the first day had major issues, so a new assessment is being held to reorder the students."

Marcus blinked, then grinned as he lifted his hands and formed a finger-heart aimed mockingly at Leon.

"Wow, you actually answered my question. Cute."

Leon exhaled through his nose, clearly done with the exchange. Without another word, he seized Victoria by the wrist once again and turned toward the flow of students heading toward the central quad where class 1-A was gathering.

"I can walk by myself, you know!" Victoria snapped, yanking her hand back with a frown as she stepped away from him, adjusting her bag and striding ahead with practiced poise.

The courtyard buzzed with energy. Students from every year level were slowly filing into position, the classes separated by clear numerical sections. The structure was simple—each classroom was assigned a number, with letter designations (A through D) roughly categorizing the perceived ability or potential of each class.

From 1-A up to 1-D... all the way through 4-A to 4-D.

It was a neat illusion of structure.

The numbers didn’t actually mean anything.

Marcus thought dryly, watching the shuffle of students forming orderly squares.

They had no defined criteria, no merit-based system. Just a lazy narrative tool to enforce a social hierarchy without bothering to explain it. Like slapping ’elite’ and ’common’ stickers on lunch trays.

It also meant the academy had a massive student population, with every class holding roughly thirty students. Most were extras—nameless, background filler. Only a handful mattered to the original plot.

The academy itself was split into branches—junior and senior. Marcus and the others were in the junior division, though both branches shared the same campus grounds. Once assigned to a class, the designation was permanent. No transfers. No appeals. The world’s way of locking people into their social lane, dressed up as education.

A simple way to assign hierarchy while pretending it was destiny.

Before Marcus could sink further into internal monologue, a voice broke through the noise like a snap of lightning.

"What are you doing! Get over here before we get scolded!"

It was Cynthia, waving urgently from across the courtyard where the rest of class 4-D was gathered in a loose group. Marcus recognized only her—none of the other students in their class had even appeared in the original game storyline. Generic faces in a recycled crowd.

"Right, on it!" Marcus called out, raising a hand as he started weaving his way through the murmuring students and ambient chatter.

He paused for a brief moment to glance back.

Leon stood tall amidst the members of 1-A, speaking to Maria and Victoria. His expression was still stern, locked into that trademark posture of regal authority. The kind that made it seem like he was always seconds away from delivering a lecture or handing out a royal decree.

Dude’s personality feels like a lightswitch

Marcus thought with a smirk.

Charming one second, commanding the next. Someone unplug him.

As the flow of students from inside finally slowed, the courtyard began to settle. Conversations dropped to low hums. Each class now stood in formation—structured like tidy squares on a living chessboard.

"You got this!" Cynthia whispered to herself beside Marcus, fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her face was determined, jaw set like a warrior before battle.

"I don’t really care about getting a higher class," Marcus muttered under his breath, "but if it means showing off to that prince..."

"...then so be it."

Marcus’s eyes glinted with anticipation. As the last murmurs faded and the courtyard quieted completely, a line of teachers emerged from the academy entrance—some familiar, others new.

He recognized Counselor Juna’s bright hair instantly, her tired but sharp eyes scanning the gathered students. Beside her walked Oswald, their homeroom teacher, old yet wise as always.

Marcus rolled his neck, feeling the old itch of a challenge building in his veins.

"I’m gonna wipe that pretty smirk off his face..." he said under his breath, grinning like someone about to enjoy himself a little too much.