Chapter 652 --652

Chapter 652: Chapter-652

"They actually brought kitchenware to a morning assembly," Heena muttered, a genuine, highly impressed smile crossing her face. "Now this is a proper government."

Hovering high above the absolute warzone of the Grand Hall, dodging flying cast-iron frying pans and solid brass belts, the System was completely glitching out with stress.

"Host!" the System shrieked digitally, watching Heena expertly duck under an iron court tablet before kicking a scholar directly in the kneecap. "This is not proper government! This just shows that all of you are completely, irredeemably crazy!"

’Oh, come on, let’s just have some fun,’ Heena replied casually in her mind, grabbing a stray silk hat out of the air and shoving it directly into the face of a charging minister to blind him.

"Host, if you get caught acting like this on the official historical record, do you have any idea how it spoils your image?!" the System argued frantically.

’What image?’ Heena scoffed, stepping back to let General Kael clothesline a historian.

"The original owner’s image!" the System yelled, its blue hologram waving its pixelated arms. "Come on, you have completely destroyed the original seera’s pristine, tragic image! She was supposed to be a delicate, suffering beauty! It was not meant to be like this!"

Heena paused for a fraction of a second, lazily catching a thrown shoe before chucking it right back at a screaming Censor.

’Did the original seera specifically tell me to act weak?’ Heena asked logically.

"...No," the System admitted.

’Did she specifically tell me to act like a polite, suffering martyr and report everything peacefully?’ Heena continued.

"...No."

’What was her only actual wish?’ Heena demanded, her sociopathic focus entirely clear.

"To avenge her murderers and protect her family," the System mumbled.

’Exactly! And yeah, I already did that!’ Heena declared triumphantly, casually watching the Prime Minister groan in agony on the floor. ’I have legally secured the family, I have adopted an heir, and I just sent the Minister of Rites to the death row dungeons! I completed the mission! Everything happening right now is just the extra, fun part!’

"Host," the System sighed deeply, lowering its digital head in absolute defeat. "Do you even know what the concept of shame is?"

Heena smirked, her dark eyes flashing with unbridled, arrogant confidence. She stepped over a groaning scholar and looked up at the glowing blue orb.

’Do you know what money and absolute political power are?’ Heena countered smoothly.

The System paused. Its digital circuits processed the flawless, utterly ruthless logic of a woman who had just conquered the entire imperial court while wearing only one shoe.

"Well," the System finally conceded with a heavy, pixelated shrug. "Fair price."

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After a full forty-five minutes of absolute, unmitigated chaos, the Emperor finally decided he had enough.

He slowly lowered the bulletproof steel umbrella, peeked over the top of his golden throne, and cleared his throat. It wasn’t a loud noise, but the sheer aura of the Son of Heaven finally dropping his patience was enough to freeze the room.

"Enough," the Emperor sighed, his voice echoing through the ruined Grand Hall.

The Imperial Court instantly froze in place.

General Kael had a Censor in a headlock. A Minister of Revenue was mid-swing with his cast-iron frying pan. Heena was standing on top of a marble table, holding her shoe like a lethal weapon, while the Prime Minister lay groaning behind a pillar, desperately trying to calculate how many of his ribs were bruised.

"The morning assembly is dismissed," the Emperor ordered, aggressively rubbing his temples. "The Vanguard Madam’s adoption is legally recognized. The Ministry of Rites is under full imperial investigation. The rest of you... go home and reconsider your life choices. And someone please confiscate their kitchenware."

With a final, deeply exhausted sigh, the Emperor stood up and retreated to the inner palace, leaving the battered, bruised, and heavily panting officials to untangle themselves.

Heena hopped down from the table, slipped her shoe back on, and dusted off her military robes. She looked at her generals, who were all grinning like they had just won a major war, and gave them a highly satisfied nod.

"Excellent workout, everyone," Heena cheered. "Now, I really must get back. I need to ask my husband how my son’s first day of school is going."

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Meanwhile, on the other side of the capital, a completely different type of psychological warfare was taking place.

The Imperial Youth Academy was the most prestigious, exclusive educational institution in the world. It was a place of pristine pavilions, blooming cherry blossoms, and delicate, wealthy fifteen-year-old noble heirs. These teenagers spent their days reciting poetry, sipping expensive tea, and engaging in light, arrogant bullying to establish their future political factions.

Currently, in the Elite First-Year Classroom, the young masters were gathered around the desk of young Lord Lin, the arrogant fifteen-year-old son of the Minister of Rites.

"I heard there is a new transfer student today," Lord Lin sneered, snapping his gold-leafed folding fan open. "Some commoner the Vanguard family picked up off the streets. We need to teach him his place immediately. The moment he walks in, we throw our inkstones at his head."

The other teenagers laughed cruelly, clutching their heavy stone inkwells, fully prepared to bully the new kid into submission.

The sliding paper doors of the classroom gently opened.

The arrogant teenagers raised their inkstones, their cruel smiles perfectly in place—

And then they completely froze.

Standing in the doorway was a towering, heavily built, thirty-year-old man. He had a full, well-trimmed beard, the cold, dead eyes of a man who had seen the absolute worst of the imperial bureaucracy, and deep stress wrinkles etched into his forehead.

Over his broad, muscular shoulder, he was carrying a bright yellow silk satchel embroidered with little bouncing bunnies.

The entire classroom fell deathly silent. The teenagers slowly lowered their inkstones, their mouths hanging open in sheer terror.

"A-Are you the new guest lecturer?" Lord Lin stammered, his voice cracking an octave higher than normal.

Chijen looked at the trembling teenager. He let out a long, hollow sigh that carried the weight of a thousand unpaid taxes.

"No," Chijen replied, his deep, mature baritone voice echoing through the silent room. "I am Vanguard Saura Chijen. I am the new first-year transfer student. Please take care of me."

The elderly professor, who had just walked in behind Chijen, dropped his teaching scrolls on the floor in absolute shock.

Chijen completely ignored the professor. He walked down the aisle toward the only empty desk in the back of the room. The desk was designed for a growing fifteen-year-old boy. When the thirty-year-old man sat down on the floor cushion, his knees practically touched his chin.

He didn’t complain. He calmly opened his bunny satchel, pulled out a massive, heavily annotated stack of advanced legal texts, and then pulled out a single, perfectly red apple. He set the apple on his desk, right next to his inkwell.

The teenagers stared at him, absolutely paralyzed.

Lord Lin, desperate to maintain his status as the class bully, swallowed hard. He forced a sneer onto his face, picked up his ruler, and marched over to Chijen’s tiny desk.