Chapter 29: The Class Dimwit

After having a fairly decent lunch in the cafeteria, Kouya turned and headed toward the academic building, planning to take a short nap on the rooftop. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, warm and soft, and the faint hum of students chatting in the distance made him feel a strange peace. He stretched his shoulders, thinking that a nap in the breeze up there would be the perfect way to pass the rest of the break.

On the way, however, he ran into the red-haired little demon, Satania.

This idiot demon seemed to have a strange nesting instinct, like a kitten or a puppy—she always ate at the same corner of the stairwell every single day without fail. Kouya had seen her there so many times that he could practically imagine the scene before even turning the corner.

And her food was always the same too—a pineapple bun and a seaweed rice ball. Every. Single. Day.

If that briefly appearing, helpful Gabriel was the class’s collective hallucination, then this idiot demon was undoubtedly the class’s intelligence representative…

Hmm, the kind responsible for dragging down the class’s overall IQ by at least twenty points.

Because this red-haired little demon kept blurting out things that made everyone unbearably awkward, regardless of the situation or setting. She was a walking embarrassment machine, with no sense of timing or shame. Like…

“Ahahaha, you foolish humans, tremble under the feet of the great demon Satania!” she would declare in the middle of the hallway.

And then there was, “Tsk tsk, what a wonderful sin.” —even though all she was doing was doodling absentmindedly on the corner of her notebook.

A tsundere?

No, no, no. Not even close.

She was simply dumb. Just plain, hopelessly dumb.

And the worst part was that she was completely oblivious to the embarrassed stares around her, going about her day as if nothing was wrong, desperately trying to stand out with her so-called ‘evil charisma.’

Like suddenly stopping in the middle of the hallway, one hand on her hip, the other dramatically raised to her forehead, laughing out loud with an exaggerated “Ahahaha!” that echoed through the whole floor.

Like pacing back and forth at the classroom door, waiting until one second before the bell rang just so she could make a grand entrance with her hands behind her back as if she were royalty inspecting her subjects.

Like deliberately throwing recyclable trash into the non-recyclable bin and feeling proud about it… all while declaring, “This is my act of rebellion against order!”

What the hell are you even proud of!

Kouya could already imagine the consequences—because of this one idiot demon, the entire evil reputation of Hell would take a nosedive. One day, people might even start calling it a realm of “pure-hearted simplicity.”

At this rate, Hell was doomed. Completely doomed.

After all this time, Satania had collected quite the list of infamous titles—“Mood Killer,” “Awkwardness Slayer,” “The Class Dimwit,” and possibly even “Human Disaster in Training.”

Although Kouya spotted the idiot demon again today, he had no intention of greeting her. His brain simply didn’t have enough energy to handle the chaos she always brought.

Because right now, Satania was walking down the hallway with a ridiculous queenly pose, one hand on her hip, the other resting elegantly in the air, her chin slightly raised as though she truly ruled over her imaginary domain.

Suddenly, the red-haired demon’s expression shifted—her eyes sharpened as she noticed the sleepy-eyed, lazy-faced blonde with curly hair approaching from the other side of the hallway. Gabriel.

That’s right. After the so-called “world-saving” incident from the past two days, and under the homeroom teacher’s stern final warning, Gabriel had no choice but to show up at school again.

“Ugh, this juice tastes awful,” Gabriel muttered with a frown. She looked at the can in her hand as though it had personally offended her, then casually tossed the half-finished drink toward the nearby trash bin.

The can drew a graceful arc through the air and then…

With a metallic clang, it bounced off the rim and landed on the floor.

The remaining juice splattered everywhere, spreading a sticky puddle across the tiles.

“She actually threw away juice she hadn’t even finished?! And missed the bin too?!” Satania’s eyes went wide with shock, her jaw dropping.

For a brief moment, she couldn’t even recognize her. The difference between this sloth-like Gabriel and the angelic helper from last week was so extreme that Satania half-suspected a body swap had occurred.

When Gabriel walked right past the spilled juice without even glancing down, Satania trembled violently.

“And she’s just going to leave it there… What an evil act! Only an S-class demon could do something like this!”

It wasn’t until Gabriel was almost around the corner that Satania came to her senses and bolted forward.

“Hey! You’re just going to leave that there?!” she shouted.

“Huh?” Gabriel replied lazily without turning her head. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You didn’t throw it into the trash bin!”

Satania stood with one hand on her hip again, ready for her moment of moral victory, waiting for Gabriel’s embarrassed apology.

But all she got was a blank, uninterested “Oh.”

Then Gabriel shrugged and added, “If that’s all, I’m leaving.”

What?! She actually said it was fine?!

Such a wicked act, and she said it was fine!

Satania froze in disbelief, anger rising in her chest. “Your juice spilled everywhere! Don’t you have to clean it up?!”

“Oh, that so?” Gabriel tilted her head up, gazing at the ceiling in thought, before casually suggesting, “Then let’s settle it with rock-paper-scissors.”

Satania, not known for her mental processing speed, nodded instinctively. “Fine!”

A few seconds later—

“You lost.” Gabriel pulled her hand back, turned around, and said flatly, “Loser does the cleaning.” She waved lazily as she left, not even looking back.

“Oh…” Satania picked up a broom with tears welling up in her eyes. Even a demon, she told herself, must honor her word.

Kouya, who had been watching from nearby, sighed deeply. The sight of a red-haired demon scrubbing the floor because she lost to an angel in rock-paper-scissors was both hilarious and tragic.

Halfway through cleaning, Satania suddenly stopped, realization dawning on her.

“Huh?!”

“The trash was hers! Why am I the one cleaning?!”

She clenched her fists, shaking with indignation, her eyes blazing in the direction Gabriel had gone.

“Damn it! That angel tricked me!”

“She’s supposed to be pure and righteous, yet she’s doing things even more evil than I, the great demon, would ever do! Unforgivable!”

“It’s decided! From now on, that blonde angel is my eternal rival!”

“…”

Having made her dramatic declaration, Satania felt a rush of purpose—like she had finally found her true calling in life. She then sighed, picked the rag back up, and went back to cleaning.

After she finished, she neatly returned the tools to the restroom, and took care of some personal matters, still plotting her next move.

“That damn blonde angel! I’ll defeat her! I’ll make her kneel before the great Satania!”

“Maybe I’ll pull her chair out right before she sits down?”

“Or untie her shoelaces while she’s sleeping?”

“Or maybe stick a note on her back that says, ‘I am a big turtle’?”

“Ahahaha! I really am the greatest demon! To come up with such wicked schemes!” Satania laughed with her hands on her hips, her voice echoing through the restroom. “Prepare yourself, my eternal rival!”

Feeling invincible, Satania reached for the restroom door to march out—only to touch something cold and unyielding.

She froze. A dreadful premonition crawled down her spine. Slowly, she looked up.

And then a pitiful cry, like that of a small abandoned creature, echoed from inside the restroom.

“There’s no paper left!!”

“Who could commit such a vile act! Only an ultra S-class demon could do something this cruel!”

“Ugh, someone please help me…”

When Kouya came down from the rooftop a few minutes later, he paused, hearing faint, desperate cries coming from the restroom—a sound like someone’s soul leaving their body.

He twitched the corner of his mouth, muttering, “I’m not dealing with this,” and started to walk away.

But Satania’s demonic hearing was sharp. The moment she caught the sound of footsteps, her weak cries turned frantic.

“Hey! You out there! Help! There’s no paper in here!”

“Stop yelling. I can’t help you,” Kouya replied with a long-suffering sigh.

“K-Kouya?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

A brief silence followed before her defeated voice came again. “E-even if it’s you, or a kitten, or a puppy, I don’t care! I just need toilet paper! I’ll die without it!”

Damn it, did she just lump me in with cats and dogs?!

And toilet paper isn’t even a necessity! You won’t die without it!

In ancient China, people used bamboo sticks called toilet paddles, and no one ever died from it.

In medieval Europe, even the nobles didn’t use paper—they used ropes. Shared ropes.

And the legendary Indians? They didn’t even have toilets! They just used their left hands.

Simple, cheap, and effective.

The only catch? In India, never eat with your left hand—or risk a well-deserved beating…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep