The Beautiful Idiot Is Forced To Play The Villain [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“You peeked at my diary, and now you’re being mean to me.” Perhaps influenced by Pei Ran’s attitude, or maybe realizing that acting piteous wasn’t very effective on him, Lan Zhen shouted quite forcefully, “Apologize to me, or I’ll follow you forever!”

Pei Ran was certain he was being blackmailed, but he refused to apologize no matter what.

The players watching their confrontation from the side felt their vision go dark. One couldn’t help but pull Pei Ran aside, not forgetting to leave two people behind to apologize incessantly to stabilize Lan Zhen’s emotions.

After being pulled away, Pei Ran kept his arms crossed, his eyes clearly signaling that he wanted to see how they intended to perform.

The player pushed forward had a small tattoo on his face; due to his sheer helplessness, the tattoo distorted with his expression. If it weren’t an emergency, they wouldn’t want to talk to this “human-shaped killing machine” either.

The title “human-shaped killing machine” was a nickname almost all players had agreed upon for Pei Ran. It originated from a high-level dungeon where content that was supposed to be decrypted was leveled by a single strike of Pei Ran’s sword. The final scripted death trap, a pit of ten thousand corpses, was forcibly demolished, leading directly to the dungeon’s closure for maintenance.

Since then, Pei Ran had become famous in a single battle.

Beyond that, Pei Ran was even more renowned for keeping women at a distance—or rather, for equally loathing anyone who approached him. Even if someone was as beautiful as a celestial being, they were no different from an ordinary person to him; if they needed to be cut down, he would do so without hesitation.

Just now, they were terrified that Pei Ran wouldn’t be able to hold back and would draw his sword.

“God Pei, you really can’t kill this ‘sister’.” Pei Ran shot him a glance, and the tattooed man immediately sped up his explanation of what they had seen yesterday. “The school rules seem to state that one cannot disobey superiors. The ‘sister’ is currently Rank One; we have to listen to him.”

“Yesterday, someone tried to lay a hand on him, and they just… exploded. Brains and blood were everywhere.”

That scene, even though they had been through many dungeons, was still nauseating to remember. In hindsight, they were lucky that the “sucker” had arrived when he did; had he been any later, they would have kidnapped the boy without hesitation, and it would have been them who exploded.

This information was highly credible. After all, without some special rules, someone like Lan Zhen would find it very difficult to be a school bully.

So, Pei Ran now only had two choices: apologize to the person extorting him, or let the boy follow him.

Pei Ran pinched the bridge of his nose, where a dull ache was forming.

“Then follow us,” he said to Lan Zhen. “Just don’t cry later.”

He had never heard of someone needing to bring a dungeon NPC—especially one who looked so pivotal—along while sneaking over a wall to find clues.

“God Pei, this…”

the players wanted to advise him further but were frightened back by a single look from Pei Ran.

[370, look, I really am amazing. The male lead definitely hates me now, but he still has to let me follow him.] Lan Zhen was so proud that his non-existent tail was practically wagging.

370: […]

From the result, it seemed fine, but looking at the process, everything was a mess.

Lan Zhen was in a great mood and didn’t get angry that the system was ignoring him. He continued talking to himself: [Why did he tell me not to cry? Is he going to do something dangerous?]

The answer came quickly. Pei Ran’s group arrived at a locked building and skillfully removed a first-floor window.

If Lan Zhen remembered correctly, the north side housed teacher offices and file storage, while the south side was the faculty apartments. Usually, Lan Zhen would avoid such places at all costs, but now it looked like he was expected to climb through a window and sneak inside.

If they were caught, it would be disastrous. Furthermore, even for the first floor, the height of the wall was by no means low. Without outside help, Lan Zhen definitely wouldn’t be able to get over.

“I’ve scouted it. It’s dinner time, so no one is around. If we delay, the teachers will start coming back,” the tattooed man said before taking a few steps back. After a short run-up, he braced his right arm against the corner and vaulted over with ease.

The other players followed one by one, leaving only Lan Zhen and Pei Ran on this side.

“Crying won’t help now,” Pei Ran said as he stood beneath the window. He skipped the run-up entirely, braced himself with one hand, and swung his long legs over to sit sideways on the window frame, looking down at Lan Zhen.

Lan Zhen took two steps forward. Even reaching up with one hand, he could only barely hook the edge of Pei Ran’s jacket. The jacket fluttered in the wind, and he had to grab for it several times before catching it.

He looked like an angry kitten stretching its paws to catch a cat teaser.

Pei Ran watched for a moment and smirked. He turned to enter the building.

At that moment, Lan Zhen finally secured a firm grip on a small corner of the jacket. He intended to use it as a climbing rope. To use his full body strength, he tucked his legs up, hanging in the air like a curled shrimp, twisting constantly as he tried to climb upward.

Caught off guard, Pei Ran was nearly yanked off balance. Fortunately, he reacted instantly and gripped the window frame.

Using a bit too much force in his haste, a clear handprint appeared on the frame. The other players’ expressions distorted slightly.

If that strength hit a person, how much would it hurt?

“What on earth are you doing?”

The words were squeezed through Pei Ran’s teeth. Everyone else shuddered, except for Lan Zhen, who was still flapping about in mid-air, looking entirely unafraid of the consequences.

“I told you—either you apologize or I follow you. It would be too embarrassing to just let you go,” Lan Zhen said stubbornly.

Even 370, watching from the sidelines, was somewhat amazed. Before, the boy was terrified of being hit every day; where did this courage come from now?

“Let go.” Pei Ran could almost feel his pulse throbbing in his forehead. He couldn’t believe he was actually tolerating this, having only spoken two words of warning.

By this point, Lan Zhen wasn’t about to listen; he continued to hold on for dear life.

Seeing this, Pei Ran stayed frozen there with a cold face. Given the boy’s frantic struggling and frail body, he likely wouldn’t last much longer—he’d drop in a minute.

In fact, after only half a minute, Lan Zhen began to lose his grip. However, he stubbornly lifted his legs, showing no intention of giving up.

Falling in this posture, he would likely land on his bottom. It wouldn’t cause serious injury, but it would hurt for a while.

Sensing the last bit of the jacket leaving his palm, Lan Zhen’s face went pale. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for a close encounter with the ground.

He’s so annoying… knowing he’s this weak yet being as stubborn as an ox, impossible to steer back.

The “apology” was just an excuse to stay by his side, no matter how clumsy that excuse was.

At the last second, Pei Ran grabbed him and gave a forceful pull. Lan Zhen felt like a baby bird being taken on its first flight by a giant bird; before he knew it, he was soaring through the air.

Realizing he was flying toward the interior of the building, he jerked in fright, frantically searching for something to grab onto.

He seemed to catch something, which made him feel much safer.

The players inside saw him falling and reached out to catch him. Unexpectedly, two people fell down together. They failed to catch them properly, and the pair slammed into the floor.

After a loud “thud,” Lan Zhen slowly opened his eyes, realizing belatedly that his body didn’t seem to hurt.

Of course it didn’t; he was pinned on top of a thick “human cushion.” It would be hard to feel pain.

Worse still, Pei Ran, pinned underneath, didn’t dare speak. He could only wait for Lan Zhen to realize and move away himself.

Lan Zhen looked down and was startled. Perhaps because Pei Ran had fallen straight down while Lan Zhen had flown forward a bit, his current position was sitting directly on Pei Ran’s face.

The physical damage might not have been great, but the insult and mental trauma to the male lead were definitely top-tier.

Lan Zhen scrambled to stand up, but his footing was unsteady and he sat back down again. In an instant, his face turned incredibly red, like a ripe peach that would burst with sweet juice if poked.

The players nearby were stunned, lost in whatever thoughts they had. Pei Ran finally raised his arm and used his own strength to push the boy away.

It was too embarrassing. Why was the floor in this building so clean and smooth? There wasn’t even a crack for him to crawl into. Lan Zhen’s fingers kept picking at the floorboards, not daring to look at Pei Ran’s expression.

Waaah… I don’t need to look to know he’s going to eat me alive.

Pei Ran pinched the bridge of his nose. Being sat on twice like that—it would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt. No matter how soft Lan Zhen’s bottom was, the impact of a tailbone was no joke.

But, as luck would have it, his nose had been caught in a miraculous curve. Not only was the injury light, but he had gained a unique experience.

Most of the meat on his body must have grown on his rear; otherwise, how else to explain why such a tiny, thin person has such a rounded and firm one?

Looking at Lan Zhen, who still had his head bowed, Pei Ran didn’t know how to start the conversation. Although he was the one who had been hit, it felt like he had also taken advantage of the other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would be like this,” Lan Zhen spoke first. “If you had just helped me get in earlier, this wouldn’t have happened. My arm hurts a lot too…”

So, once again, it was his fault.

Pei Ran’s face remained cold. Sometimes he didn’t understand why the idiot in front of him wasn’t afraid of him. Usually, no matter how enthusiastic people were, they would choose to keep a respectful distance after seeing his attitude.

Why didn’t this method seem to work on this idiot?

At first, Lan Zhen was actually scared to death of him—always scowling with a bad attitude. He wouldn’t have approached if it weren’t for the mission. But that feeling had eased significantly after Pei Ran took the initiative to pull him up. To be willing to save someone after being harassed like that… the male lead was perhaps much better than he imagined.

A “grumpy face with a kind heart,” so to speak.

Lan Zhen was an expert at taking an inch and wanting a mile. Seeing that the other didn’t argue, he slowly rolled up his school sleeve, revealing a large red handprint on his snowy-white skin.

“It really hurts,” he murmured softly.

Pei Ran’s cold expression softened slightly. He pulled a bottle of medicine from his pocket. “Come here. Let me see.”

Lan Zhen froze, and the other players reacted even more strongly.

That was a medicine from the System Shop worth a fortune. They couldn’t even afford it; even if they could, they wouldn’t use it unless they were critically injured or near death. And now, it was being used to treat a handprint?