September—the start of the academic year—is the liveliest time at any university. Both inside and outside the campus gates, students gathered in droves. Seniors holding signs for various departments warmly greeted the incoming freshmen. While the male seniors openly seized this opportunity to flirt with pretty girls, their female counterparts weren't far behind. Spotting any handsome young man, they would beam like spring blossoms and sweet-talk him until the poor newcomer, still adjusting to life far from home, could barely tell north from south. Their minds could only manage thoughts like:
"Wow, university really lives up to the hype! So many gorgeous girls, so much enthusiasm!"
"Girls, here I come!"
Paris, France. Université Paris Sciences et Lettres (PSL), ranked 21st in the 2000 QS World University Rankings and the top university in France.
At the campus gate stood a plain-looking young man, his outfit a mismatched disaster, carrying a black travel bag that screamed "small-town rookie." He stared blankly at the PSL sign above the entrance, muttering to himself, "So this is a university! I finally made it!"
His awkward demeanor made him stick out like a sore thumb. Disdainful glances were cast his way, and the glamorous young women nearby avoided him like the plague. Not one showed the slightest inclination to offer a warm welcome or guidance.
This out-of-place young man was none other than Vanmuril. After the Huxwell family had arranged his admission, he decided to spend his first few years studying at university to immerse himself in human knowledge. Before leaving the Alps, he'd been busy teaching the residents of the ancient castle while also refining tens of thousands of medicinal pills in his hidden valley. He left some behind for the castle's inhabitants and kept others for use in the human world.
Eight days before classes began, Caesar Alexander, the elder of the Alexander clan, delivered Vanmuril's admission notice. The day before his departure, Andrea carefully explained university rules and customs, handing him a bank card with unlimited use. Vanmuril initially declined, insisting that self-reliance was necessary to truly experience human life. However, Andrea persuaded him to accept €100,000 as tuition and a backup fund.
Vanmuril also instructed Alexander to send periodic deliveries of sealed boxes containing fresh blood and rare herbs to a designated location in Paris. Along with the admission papers and money, Andrea also prepared a special government ID and the Huxwell family leader's badge, both of which Vanmuril initially refused. Andrea explained, "You're the head of the Huxwell family, but those in the human world won't recognize you. If anyone dares offend you, it'll bring shame on our family. With these, you can teach them a lesson when necessary and uphold our dignity." Convinced, Vanmuril accepted.
On the day of his departure, the farewell at the ancient castle was heart-wrenching. Everyone cried as though the sky had fallen, a memory that still unsettled Vanmuril. After saying goodbye, he got a haircut, purchased daily necessities, and packed everything into a travel bag. Unfortunately, with no sense of modern fashion, he fell victim to clever merchants who unloaded outdated stock onto him. Naïve Vanmuril, oblivious to being scammed, marveled at their supposed kindness and generosity.
Clad in what he believed to be trendy attire—a painfully outdated shirt, awkwardly fitting trousers, and plain black sneakers—Vanmuril tempered his extraordinary aura to blend in as an ordinary person. Thus disguised, he made his way to PSL.
"Hey, buddy, why are you just standing here like a statue? Looking like that, don't expect any girls to help you. Come on, let's go register together!" A thin hand patted Vanmuril's shoulder, interrupting his thoughts.
Turning, Vanmuril saw the hand's owner: a lanky young man, about 175 cm tall and barely 95 pounds, with a stereotypical middle-part hairstyle. His oversized eyes roved shamelessly over the curvy figures of passing women, glinting with unrestrained lechery.
"My name is Vanmuril. May I know yours?" Vanmuril greeted him politely, appreciative of the friendly gesture.
"I'm Ronnie Spencer, a freshman at the National Higher Institute of Chemical Engineering. You?"
"Me too!" Vanmuril exclaimed with delight. Though Ronnie's demeanor was less than respectable, Vanmuril was overjoyed to meet his first university classmate.
"Let's stick together for registration!" Ronnie was equally thrilled, sensing that Vanmuril's small-town naivety made him an ideal companion.
Though Vanmuril possessed godlike power, the bustling human world was entirely new to him. Feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement, he eagerly followed Ronnie's lead. Together, they asked a less-than-enthusiastic senior for directions and headed toward the registration area.
The registration point was at the sports field, which was already packed with students. It wasn't until noon that the two finished the process. When they finally headed to their dormitory, they discovered they were roommates in Room 506, sharing bunk beds, with Ronnie on the top bunk.
Their dorm housed six students in total, hailing from various parts of Europe: Leo Borrel, Theo Charla, Nathan Carey, and Luca Castell rounded out the group.
"Hey, guys, it's fate that we're all roommates. Lunch is on me!" Ronnie announced, his scheming eyes twinkling with excitement.
"Awesome!" The group, ever eager for free food, enthusiastically accepted. Though Vanmuril didn't consume mortal food, the camaraderie and lively atmosphere were infectious, and he joined in, savoring a sense of warmth and connection he'd never known before.
On their first day together, the dorm mates gathered at a small restaurant near the campus for a meal. As they chatted, they got to know each other better and decided to rank themselves by age. Ronnie proudly claimed the title of "big brother," being the oldest by birth month. Next came Theo Charla, followed by Nathan Carey. Despite being over 1,500 years old, Vanmuril took the fourth spot based on his "official" birthdate, leaving Leo Borrel and Luca Castell to round out the group. Ronnie was so pleased with his new "ranking" that he practically floated with pride.
After the meal, the group explored the expansive campus, picked up textbooks from the academic office, stocked up on daily essentials, and set up their dorm. Everything proceeded smoothly—except for one awkward moment. When Vanmuril opened his textbooks and flipped through a few pages, he froze, utterly lost. Growing up in the secluded Alps, he had no exposure to modern concepts like chemical equations or advanced mathematics, so his confusion was inevitable.
The next day began with the university's traditional orientation. Senior administrators delivered speeches in the auditorium, followed by campus tours led by advisors. Students also introduced themselves. Vanmuril, with his understated, rustic appearance, failed to leave a strong impression. To most classmates, he just seemed like a shy guy from the countryside.
After a full day of activities, everyone received their schedules. The first day of classes featured two morning sessions: Advanced Mathematics and Advanced Chemistry. While Theo and Nathan diligently previewed their materials, Vanmuril wanted to follow suit but soon realized he couldn't make heads or tails of his textbooks. Feeling defeated, he decided to wait and see if things would make more sense in class.
The next morning, Vanmuril found himself struggling through his first lessons. Though he paid full attention, nothing clicked. As someone of extraordinary intelligence, he refused to accept defeat. "How can I, a blood prince, fail at something these ordinary humans excel at?" Determined, he set out that afternoon to master the basics.
While his classmates relaxed in groups, Vanmuril went straight to the library, searching for foundational knowledge. Unfortunately, he didn't find what he needed. Frustrated but undeterred, he sought help from his advisor, who suggested visiting a bookstore off-campus to start with elementary-level materials.
At the bookstore, Vanmuril discovered the roots of those perplexing symbols. Completely engrossed, he devoured elementary and middle school textbooks, oblivious to the curious stares from other patrons. His rustic attire and intense focus turned him into a spectacle, but Vanmuril didn't care. The knowledge contained in those books astonished him, challenging his preconceived notions about humanity.
"The complexity and ingenuity of modern civilization are astounding," he thought. "If I can master this, it will surely benefit my growth." Driven by this newfound perspective, Vanmuril purchased over a hundred textbooks and returned to campus. He found an empty classroom and threw himself into self-study. His unparalleled memory and comprehension allowed him to absorb everything within six hours.
When Vanmuril finally returned to the dorm, it was nearly 1 a.m. From a distance, he could hear Ronnie and the others laughing and chatting about their romantic escapades. Their laughter was full of mischief and innuendo.
"I'm back!" Vanmuril called cheerfully as he entered, greeting them with a polite smile.
"Seriousl?" Luca Castell's voice trembled with excitement as he asked.
Vanmuril, seated on his bed and removing his shoes, noticed the buzz in the room and asked curiously, "Is attending class really something to get this excited about?"
"Ugh, you don't get it, do you?" Even though it was nighttime, Vanmuril could feel the collective disdainful looks coming from the others in the room.
"Boy, let me explain something. College isn't just about studying—it's about dating. If you graduate without chasing a girl or two, you might as well not have gone to university at all! Look at Youngest here. Even though he's the youngest among us, he's got his priorities straight. Go ahead, Luca, give Vanmuril a crash course!" Ronnie Spencer said, his tone dripping with mock disappointment.
"Ahem," Luca Castell cleared his throat, assuming a smug expression before beginning, "OVanmuril, you might be older than me, but when it comes to chasing girls, you've got a lot to learn. Take yesterday, for example—while the rest of us were making connections, you were buried in a study session. Let me tell you, any girl who spends her first day of college studying isn't someone you'd want to chase. Those are the plain ones who think their lack of looks can be compensated with books."
Vanmuril thought back to the library and realized Luca might have a point. The three girls he'd seen that night had all been rather unremarkable.
Before he could respond, Leo Borrel jumped in, playing the role of an elder statesman. "See that? Youngest may be the youngest, but his analysis is spot on—sharp and insightful.You could learn a thing or two from him!"
Luca puffed up with pride and continued, "Have you heard about Olivia?"
"No, who's that?"
"Oh, for crying out loud! Olivia's only the most famous and gorgeous teacher at our school! Imagine if you could get close to her… the dream!"
As Luca rambled on about Olivia, the room grew quieter. Heavy breathing filled the air as everyone's imaginations ran wild—everyone except Vanmuril, whose mind drifted to the two women he'd met at the foot of the Alps.
Satisfied with his effect on the group, Luca added, "And get this—our School of Business is entirely different from our science-heavy department. They're liberal arts, so their classes are packed with girls. I've heard this year's intake has an unusually high number of beauties, including a rumored campus queen!"
"Who?" Everyone except Vanmuril responded in unison, their surprise evident. Usually, it took time for someone to be dubbed a "campus queen," so hearing about one so soon was shocking.
"They say her name's Helena, the sole heiress to the Beaupaybon Group in France. Think about it: if you could win her over, you wouldn't just get the girl—you'd inherit an entire empire!" Luca said, his voice filled with dreamy longing.
The room fell into a contemplative silence, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. Everyone seemed lost in their fantasies, except for Vanmuril, who had long tuned out the conversation and was quietly reviewing his newly learned knowledge.
The next morning, the dorm was abuzz with activity. Everyone woke up early, forming a line for the single mirror as they polished their shoes to a mirror shine and styled their hair to perfection. Meanwhile, Vanmuril, sticking to his usual low-profile demeanor, simply ran a hand through his hair and put on his outdated clothes and shoes. His roommates shook their heads in dismay, declaring him a lost cause.
When the six of them arrived at their lecture hall, they found it filled with male students, all clearly dressed to impress. Vanmuril could sense the collective disappointment as the group walked in. Then he noticed an odd phenomenon: each male student had intentionally left the seat next to him vacant. Without needing to discuss it, Ronnie and the others followed suit, spreading out to claim their own spots.
It wasn't until the first female student entered that Vanmuril realized what was happening. No matter where she sat, a male student was already seated next to her. It was a calculated move—an unspoken rule to secure proximity to the opposite sex.
As the lecture start time drew near, the male students grew visibly anxious. Finally, groups of female students began trickling in. To Vanmuril's amazement, the women only hesitated briefly before picking seats beside the men they found agreeable.
Of course, Vanmuril, with his unremarkable appearance, was ignored. Even Ronnie's efforts to appear charming went unnoticed. Suddenly, the room fell silent. Curious, Vanmuril opened his eyes and immediately tensed. Standing at the door was an exceptionally beautiful woman.
Her short, golden hair shimmered in the light, perfectly framing her delicate features. With her graceful brows, luminous eyes, and soft, inviting lips, she was the epitome of elegance. The men in the room couldn't help but stare, their gazes practically glued to her.
But Vanmuril wasn't captivated like the others. Instead, his heart sank. He recognized her immediately—it was Helena, the Beaupaybon heiress. Worse still, she was the same woman he'd clashed with at the foot of the Alps.
Hoping his current appearance would render him unrecognizable, Vanmuril quickly lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.