During this morning’s Literature class, as soon as homeroom teacher Viola Nguyen stepped into Class 11D, her expression darkened. Her demeanor made the whole class feel a little uneasy. She sternly called out Royce from the podium.

“Royce Nguyen!”

“Yes, teacher!”

“Yes, what? Teacher, what? Take your ‘yes’ and go back to your seat immediately! How many times have I caught you taking someone else’s seat?”

“But teacher, no one’s sitting here at the moment.”

“That seat belongs to Autumn Nguyen.”

“But she hasn’t come to class yet, has she?”

“That doesn’t mean you can sit there. Go back to your seat now, or I’ll make you copy lines as punishment.”

Royce let out a long sigh and slowly dragged himself back to his own desk.

“Can you hurry up so I can start the lesson already?”

Teacher Viola urged him impatiently, but it did nothing to speed up his movements.

His actual deskmate seemed delighted to have him back, while Royce, on the other hand, sat at the very edge of his seat, trying to keep as much distance from her as possible.

Since the student at the adjacent desk was also a girl, Royce looked utterly miserable. Sandwiched between two girls, he sat stiff as a board, his ears and the back of his neck turning bright red.

Ethan chuckled to himself. Royce’s reaction to real-life girls was so different from how he acted around 2D or 3D-rendered ones.

Once the class settled down, Teacher Viola finally began her lecture.

At the very least, Royce still had some level of respect and fear for the homeroom teacher. During subject classes where the teachers were more lenient and didn’t strictly enforce the seating chart, he would abandon his assigned seat to sit next to Ethan instead. His excuse? He was helping Ethan “get more exposure to human interaction” so that Ethan would be less lonely and antisocial.

But all Ethan ever felt was annoyance and discomfort.

Having a whole desk to himself was perfect—spacious and comfortable. But now, thanks to Royce, he was crammed into a tiny desk with another tall, broad-shouldered guy.

To make things worse, Royce was left-handed, constantly bumping his elbow into Ethan’s arm and messing up his writing. No matter how many times Ethan reminded him, Royce refused to switch to his right hand.

So, at this point, Ethan genuinely hoped that his absent deskmate, Autumn Nguyen, would return soon and reclaim her seat, forcing Royce to stay put in his own.

It was only thanks to Teacher Viola’s scolding earlier that Ethan even learned his deskmate’s full name. She had been absent from school since August—long enough to miss the entire beginning-of-year assessment exams. He had no idea why.

For years, Vietnam had been facing a severe gender imbalance, with more boys being born than girls. As a result, Ethan had always been stuck sharing desks with other guys. He was beyond sick of it.

So in a way, this was the first time he ever had the chance to sit next to a girl.

That made him a little curious.

“What does Autumn Nguyen look like?”

During lunch at the canteen, Ethan turned to Royce, hoping to get some intel on his mysterious deskmate.

Not that he expected much from Royce, given his fear of the opposite sex. But he had no one else to ask.

Royce’s response was… unsettling.

“Heh heh heh.”

So, Royce did know her.

That signature smirk—creepy and full of bad intentions—spread across Royce’s face, making Ethan shudder.

“You’re lucky, bro. Autumn  has a ‘beautiful soul.’”

Seeing Ethan’s confused expression, Royce clarified:

“Not her eyes, dude.”