Passionate Devotion - Chapter 91

I transmigrated into the gacha game I abandoned for 10 years.But, the state of the heroes I raised is strange.

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

- Description from novelbuddy

One day, Fang Jueyu was called into the study by his parents.Fang Father: “Son, you've turned 20 this year, and it's time to tell you some things!”Fang Jueyu: “What is it? You're not going to suddenly tell me you're a wealthy man, are you?”Fang Father is surprised: “You already know?”Fang Jueyu: “What? Really? I was just saying that.”Fang Father: “However, that's not the point. Today, I am going to pass on our family's heirloom that has been handed down from generation to generation to you!”From then on, Fang Jueyu's life underwent a dramatic change.What? You want to talk to me about antiques and calligraphy paintings? Do you want Wang Xizhi's calligraphy or Zheng Banqiao's paintings? Oh, right, Van Gogh even gifted my great-great-great-grandfather a painting!Why, you ask? Because it was my ancestors who funded their education!You want to talk to me about sports cars? Are you talking about Lamborghini, Ferrari, or the Bugatti Veyron? I hold shares in those companies, and I'm even the largest shareholder!What? Your family owns a mine? Sorry, but many of the gold and diamond mines in Africa are ours too!

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.