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Chapter 31 | Can I Join?

  Xanthia had come to a realization: having reliable tools at hand was much like regretting the ck of books when knowledge was urgently needed. In her case, the "coins" in her piggy bank were far too few!

  While tools meant for one-time tasks could be discarded after use, what she truly cked were the enduring, loyal ones she could rely on repeatedly.

  Of course, it wasn’t entirely her fault. How could someone who had been a lifelong single in her past life, suddenly transformed into a beautiful girl, become a master of social manipution overnight?

  Even her attempts at acting the "innocent girl" felt stiff—barely convincing those with minimal experience.

  High-level social manipution required innate talent, something that couldn’t be forced. The more naturally one could perform, the greater their chances of success. Overly calcuted actions would only lead to mediocre results.

  Xanthia had never seriously thought about these matters. Occasionally pretending to be the "innocent girl" was just her indulging in some fun, role-pying an idealized version of herself. As long as it yielded some effect, she considered it a success.

  Ultimately, she pced her faith in "overwhelming numbers" and "brute force." By maximizing her "beauty" and "charm" stats, she believed there would be no need for sophisticated social manipution. The coins would simply find their way to her piggy bank on their own.

  At this moment, Xanthia casually packed her belongings and left the school grounds alone.

  The grand entrance of Thessaloniki First High School was lined with private cars waiting to pick up students, a few of them luxury models.

  After enduring the monotony of school life, many students were thrilled to finally see their parents again, their faces lighting up with genuine smiles.

  The parents, in turn, greeted their children warmly. At the beginning of the long holiday, they would shower their kids with love and attention. But as time passed, that enthusiasm would wane, and they’d eagerly send them back to school.

  As Xanthia approached the school gate, she spotted Dionysios already some distance ahead. He had just exited the school and was greeted by a driver who smiled as he helped with his luggage. Standing nearby were two burly bodyguards wearing sungsses, fnking a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked at the roadside, gleamed under the sun.

  Dionysios El Papadopoulos, with such an entourage, naturally drew attention from the surrounding students.

  Though rumors of Dionysios being a rich heir were well-known, few had grasped the extent of his wealth until now. Seeing this scene left them awestruck.

  "Damn, this is my first time seeing real bodyguards. What an eye-opener!"

  "So this is what it’s like to be the male lead in a campus novel."

  "Who would've thought an international tycoon's heir went to school with us..."

  "In css, Dionysios El Papadopoulos seems so approachable. But outside, his aura is completely different!"

  "Hmph, the Papadopoulos familia is so fshy. Nouveau riche behavior, really. A true noble would blend in with the common folk, wouldn’t they?"

  In this parallel world, the wealthy funted their wealth even more boldly than in Xanthia's previous life. In this purely capitalist society, money was power, and there was no fear of attracting undue attention.

  As Dionysios approached his luxury car, a group of boys greeted him enthusiastically. At the forefront was Marcus El Postacio, dressed head-to-toe in branded clothing, his fshy hairstyle and arrogant demeanor marking him as a figure of authority—or perhaps a school bully.

  "Brother Papadopoulos, can we hang out during the holidays?" Marcus asked, his posture unusually low, a smile pstered across his face.

  "Marcus, it’s you. How are things in Css Three? Of course, we can get together during the break. After all, we were cssmates for three years in junior high," Dionysios responded warmly.

  The attention from the surrounding crowd made Marcus swell with pride. He basked in their admiring gnces, pleased with himself for being acknowledged by Dionysios.

  He replied solemnly, "Css Three is doing well. If anything important comes up, I’ll inform you right away, Brother Papadopoulos."

  Dionysios gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, smiling kindly. "Don’t let yourself get too distracted. High school studies are important. What you learn now will help you in the future."

  Marcus nodded, though awkwardly. If anyone else had given him that advice, he would’ve snapped at them. After all, Marcus had ranked dead st in the preliminary exams.

  Academics weren’t his strong suit. However, he was physically gifted—a prime example of the "strong-bodied, simple-minded" type. Still, he didn’t pursue athletics; with his familia's wealth, he had no need to endure the rigors of sports training.

  Despite his poor grades and brash behavior, Marcus commanded respect in Css Three. He kept the "problem students" in line, creating a more orderly and disciplined environment. His homeroom teacher, Emmanuel El Alcantara, valued him for his ability to maintain control over the css.

  "Brother Dionysios, you know that studying is pure torture for me. In this regard, I admire you so much. Not only are your grades excellent, but you willingly endure boarding school life," Marcus said sincerely.

  The truth was, Marcus respected Dionysios deeply. During their junior high years, Dionysios had repeatedly bested him in every way—academics, sports, and even physical confrontations. Dionysios’s training in imperial russian combat tactics left Marcus no room to compete.

  Eventually, Marcus submitted to Dionysios's superiority and even found joy in following him, viewing it as a privilege to be associated with someone so exceptional.

  After a few more casual exchanges, Dionysios climbed into his car and departed, leaving behind envious gazes.

  Marcus, now surrounded by a few cssmates, puffed his chest out. "See? I told you. Dionysios is like a brother to me."

  The boys eagerly showered him with compliments, boosting his ego further. Buoyed by their fttery, Marcus decided to treat them to a vish meal.

  "Marcus, if you’re treating everyone, can I join?"

  A soft, melodic voice interrupted.

  It was Xanthia La Papadopoulos. Her "Social Butterfly" attribute had just activated.

  The confident Marcus froze as if he’d seen a ghost. Instead of answering her directly, he instinctively reached out to Dionysios.

  "There’s a major issue! Your sister is asking to join our meal!"

  Unbeknownst to Marcus, Xanthia was actually Dionysios’s elder sister. All he knew was that she belonged to the Papadopoulos familia and that Dionysios treated her with unparalleled affection. To Marcus, she wasn’t just pampered—she was untouchable.

  Naturally, he dared not make any decision regarding her without Dionysios’s approval, fearing it might damage his hard-earned rapport with his idol.

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