Gasper's POV
The sound of chalk screeching against the blackboard was enough to set my fangs on edge. Chabashira-sensei's sharp voice cut through the quiet air of the classroom, echoing like a guillotine's blade being sharpened.
"…and let me be perfectly clear," she said, her sharp eyes scanning the room of first-year students. "Fail the midterms, and you'll be expelled. There are no second chances in this school. You are adults-in-training, and the system here does not coddle incompetence."
Her words fell like thunderclaps. Around me, my classmates stiffened, murmurs rippling through the room. Someone dropped their pencil. Someone else gasped audibly.
"Expelled? For failing one test?" whispered Ike, his voice cracking.
"B-but that's insane!" another student cried, panic already brewing.
Of course, most of us already understood the S System that ran this school. Class points, merit, survival of the fittest—there had been rumors, plenty of warnings. And yet, hearing it confirmed so bluntly still sent shockwaves across the room. Faces paled. Eyes darted nervously toward one another as if being near someone smarter might ward off academic doom.
I, however, didn't flinch. My mind wasn't even here.
As Chabashira droned on about test dates and expulsion risks, my gaze drifted lazily toward the window. The blue sky outside stretched endlessly, clouds drifting like careless sheep. A good view for daydreaming. Or, in my case, plotting.
Which piece should I move next?
My transmigration ability—it was both my greatest card and my greatest temptation. I'd already decided to enter the Attack on Titan world as Eren Yeager, inheriting his Titans and rewriting fate. But another question nagged at me, a thorn in my thoughts: who else should I bring with me?
Mikasa? My mind instantly rejected the idea. Loyal? Absolutely. Fierce? Without question. But that was exactly why she didn't need my interference. Her devotion to Eren was as natural as breathing. Installing her into my grand scheme would be redundant.
I tapped my fingers against my desk, ignoring the rising voices of shocked classmates around me.
Armin? Brilliant, yes, but too fragile. Too dependent. If I tampered with him, I might break the balance of his cautious wisdom.
One by one, I sifted through faces and names, running simulations in my head. My thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper until, at last, one name glowed brighter than the rest.
Historia Reiss.
I almost chuckled aloud, covering it with a fake cough. Of course. Historia. The quiet girl with the burden of royal blood. The girl who would one day be queen, her existence tied to the secrets of the Founding Titan.
"Perfect," I whispered under my breath, earning a side glance from Horikita beside me. I didn't bother explaining. My mind was already racing, weaving scenarios.
With Historia on my side, not only would I control the narrative of the Titans, but I'd also secure legitimacy—royal legitimacy. In a world where bloodlines held the keys to fate, aligning myself with her was more than strategy. It was inevitability.
While Hirata was nervously raising his hand to debate with Chabashira about "expulsion being too harsh," another thought wormed its way into my head.
The system… do I even need to give it to the person I reincarnate?
I leaned back, twirling my pen idly. It was true. My transmigration ability didn't bind me to transferring the system. I could grant it, or not, to whomever I chose. I could bring someone into another world naked, or I could make them into a powerhouse overnight.
The possibilities made my heart beat faster.
Imagine giving Historia nothing, keeping her dependent and malleable, while quietly bestowing the system upon someone else entirely—someone who could shake the very foundation of that world.
Or perhaps I should give it to Mikasa because she will be my main girl in that world.
Yes… every pawn is mine to choose, every string mine to pull. This is my gameboard.
I was so deep in my spiraling plots that at first I barely registered the soft voice calling my name.
"Gasper-kun…"
I blinked, turning slowly. A girl with long, flowing black hair and crimson eyes leaned over the desk beside me, her lips curled into a smile that was equal parts sweet and dangerous.
Jabami Yumeko.
The infamous gambler. The girl whose heart thrummed with manic excitement at the thought of risk, chance, and chaos. Her presence radiated an odd kind of energy, like a storm cloud that smiled at you.
"Ah… Yumeko-san," I said, straightening slightly.
She tilted her head, her eyes glinting in the classroom light. "You seemed so lost in thought. Thinking about something fun?"
Fun? I nearly laughed. If rewriting the tragedies of an entire world counted as "fun," then yes. But I merely gave a polite shrug.
Yumeko was one of the reasons I had chosen Class E. Her unpredictability intrigued me. Beneath that cheerful exterior was a gambler's soul, a creature that lived and breathed in the dance of risk. Dangerous, yes—but fascinating.
And besides, Class E had its charms. When the student council decided that our peerage should scatter into different classes to "test ourselves" without relying on supernatural power, we agreed. Lots were drawn. I, however, exercised my privilege. Class E wasn't the strongest, but it was certainly… entertaining. A handful of my favorite personalities from across different worlds ended up here. The rest of my peerage? They landed elsewhere, competing in silence.
Yumeko leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Say, Gasper-kun. Would you like to have lunch with me today?"
Her smile was bright, but behind it I could sense that edge of madness—the thrill of gambling bleeding into every interaction.
I smiled back, more reserved but no less intrigued. "Of course. I'd be delighted."
Her eyes sparkled, as if she'd just drawn the jackpot.
Chabashira's POV
The bell rang at last, releasing the class from its nervous tension. Students shuffled out, some still muttering about expulsion, others already forming study groups. I, however, remained seated for a while, stacking my notes and observing quietly.
This batch… just like every batch before them, they were disappointing at first glance. Noisy, careless, panicking at the slightest pressure. Children who had no idea what the real world demanded of them.
And yet.
There were exceptions. Intriguing ones.
My eyes narrowed slightly as I recalled Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, the boy who had somehow scored exactly 50s across the entrance exam—every subject, every test. A deliberate act, without question. Someone who had chosen mediocrity with surgical precision.
And then there was the other one.
The foreign student. Gasper Vladi.
Even the name left questions unanswered. His records were incomplete, his transfer details obscured. Every inquiry led me to closed doors. A ghost among the living. He sat quietly in class, often distracted, as though his mind wandered to places far beyond these walls. And yet, there was something about him—a presence that unsettled, even if he rarely spoke.
Jabami Yumeko was also very interesting. The amount of debt she has is insane but she seems to be handling that pressure pretty well.
I gathered my papers and rose, heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. Students would either break or grow here. That was the purpose of this school. But in every batch, there were always a few who stood out.
This year, my eyes would remain fixed on three in particular.
Ayanokouji, Jabami
And Gasper Vladi.
End of Chapter 26