The moment he turned to leave, a distinctly different negative emotion, like a sharp ice pick, suddenly pierced his perception network.
This emotion did not originate from that lavish cage, nor did it come from his suppressed son.
It was more primal, crude, filled with rage after humiliation, the injustice of being misunderstood, and a nearly desperate, clumsy love.
Gabriel's footsteps halted.
The slight softness that had just appeared in his ice-blue eyes due to paternal love instantly froze, replaced by the gleam of a hunter discovering more succulent prey.
"Heh… it seems today, Paris is destined not to be peaceful," he murmured to himself, a cruel and satisfied arc forming at the corner of his mouth.
He thought today's hunt had ended early due to family affection, but unexpectedly, fate had delivered an unexpected grand gift.
"Nooroo," his voice no longer had any hesitation, becoming as cold and hard as iron, "Dark wings, Akumatize!"
He once again transformed into Hawk Moth, elegantly extending his hand, and a pure white butterfly lightly landed on his gloved palm.
His palms slowly closed, infusing it with Akumatization energy.
"Go, my lovely little Akuma Butterfly," he released his hand, the butterfly's wings already stained with a deep, ominous purplish-black, "Go comfort that heart burned by injustice and humiliation! Go empower him with the strength for revenge!"
The Akumatization butterfly flapped its wings, unhesitatingly piercing through the massive glass window of the dome, like a black lightning bolt, streaking across the clear Parisian sky, flying towards the source of that emotion—Francois Dupont High School… "Ding-a-ling—!"
The end-of-class bell, like a pardon, instantly liberated the drowsy souls in the classroom.
Teacher Caline closed her textbook, a gentle smile, as always, on her face.
"Alright, students, that concludes today's history class.
Next up is physical education, please get ready and gather at the gym," she said, tidying up her lesson plans.
The classroom immediately regained its usual vitality.
Students stood up in twos and threes, stretching, whispering, packing their bags; various sounds mixed together, full of youthful energy.
Jaden remained unhurriedly seated in his secluded corner, capping his pen and lazily stuffing his books into his backpack.
His gaze, like a silent camera, recorded everything before him.
Just then, the source of the commotion erupted without warning.
Kim, the overly energetic athlete, with a mischievous, self-satisfied smile on his face, quietly approached Ivan's seat.
Ivan, the tall, perpetually grim-faced boy who looked like a silent volcano ready to erupt at any moment.
Kim quickly slipped a folded note into Ivan's hand, then hopped away like a rabbit, returning to his own seat, winking at Max next to him, a smug look of "watch the show" on his face.
More or less, everyone's attention in the class was drawn to this small action.
Ivan frowned his thick brows, puzzled, and unfolded the note.
His large frame looked a bit cramped behind the small desk.
When his gaze fell on the handwriting on the note, his face visibly turned beet red.
That always expressionless face was now etched with humiliation and anger.
The handwriting on the note was crooked, yet it felt like a red-hot branding iron, making him tremble all over.
'Ivan is a coward, he doesn't even have the courage to be friends with Mylène.'
"Kim—!!!"
A deafening roar of anger erupted from Ivan's throat, and the entire classroom instantly fell silent.
Everyone was startled by this sudden, furious bellow.
Rose and Julie, sitting behind Kim, as well as Mylène and Ellie next to them, screamed like startled fawns, springing from their seats and frantically scrambling to the other side of the classroom, fearing to be caught in the impending volcanic eruption.
Ivan's massive body suddenly stood up, knocking over the chair behind him with a jarring crash.
His eyes were bloodshot, glaring fixedly at Kim, like an enraged bull.
"You bastard!" he roared, his left fist already raised high, veins bulging, brimming with power, about to smash into Kim's still smirking face!
"Ivan! Stop!"
Teacher Caline's stern voice rang out just in time, like pouring a ladle of cold water into a fire.
Ivan's fist stopped just a few centimeters from Kim's nose, the gust of his punch ruffling Kim's golden hair.
The smile on Kim's face finally froze, replaced by a trace of belated fear.
"Teacher Caline! He provoked me first!" Ivan roared unwillingly, his other hand tightly clutching the offending note, pointing at Kim's nose.
"I know, Ivan, I know," Teacher Caline's voice softened, but still carried undeniable authority, "But violence solves nothing.
You need to calm down now.
Go to the principal's office; I'll be there shortly.
But… follow my orders, Ivan." Teacher Caline's gaze became serious.
Ivan looked at the teacher's resolute expression, then at the fearful, curious, or gloating eyes of his classmates around him, and finally, his gaze swept over Mylène's pale and worried little face, hiding behind the crowd.
A huge sense of powerlessness and shame overwhelmed him.
He felt like a clown stripped naked in public.
He snorted heavily, unwillingly lowering his fist.
He roughly grabbed his backpack and slung it over his back, crumpling the note fiercely into a ball, stuffing it into his pocket without looking, then strode out of the classroom without looking back, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor.
After Ivan left, the stagnant atmosphere in the classroom slowly eased.
Teacher Caline sighed and said to the remaining students, "Alright, everyone, hurry to the gym, don't be late."
With that, she also hurried out of the classroom, presumably to explain the situation to the principal.
As soon as the teacher left, the scattered crowd immediately swarmed back like iron filings attracted by a magnet, the focus naturally being Kim, who was still sitting in his seat, shaken.
No one spoke first; an awkward silence filled the air.
Finally, Jaden broke the silence.
He slowly walked down from his back-row seat, hands in his pockets, and stood at the edge of the crowd, his gaze calmly fixed on Kim.
His tone was flat, devoid of obvious emotion, yet it was like a scalpel, precisely cutting to the core, "What exactly did you do just now?"
Kim recovered from the scare and, seeing everyone staring at him, not only showed no remorse but grinned, as if he had just accomplished a remarkable feat.
"I was just helping Ivan regain some courage!" he declared self-righteously.
"Regain courage?"
This phrase made a huge question mark appear over everyone's heads.
"You call that regaining courage?" Alya couldn't hold back first, her hands on her hips, her eyes behind her glasses filled with disbelief, "Kim, did a soccer ball kick your brain out? Ivan looked like he was about to send you to the infirmary just now! Are you sure you weren't helping him regain the courage to 'send someone to the hospital'?"
"Exactly," Lino, next to her, pushed up his red baseball cap, "Bro, that joke went a bit too far."
Kim was questioned by everyone, but he still looked unconvinced.
"Then what exactly did you write on the note?" Marinette asked cautiously, her nature kind; although she felt Kim was wrong, she still wanted to understand the full story.
"Yeah, tell us!" Chloé urged impatiently; she wasn't interested in such childish boyish antics but simply enjoyed watching the drama, "Let's see what 'amazing' encouragement you wrote."
Kim wanted to keep them guessing, putting his hands behind his head in a cool "it's a secret" pose.
But under the siege of everyone's sharp gazes, especially the girls', he had to give up.
"Alright, alright, it's no big deal to tell you," he shrugged, saying in a dismissive tone, "I just wrote, 'Ivan is a coward, he doesn't even have the courage to be friends with Mylène.'"
He said it so casually, as if he were remarking on the good weather.
But those who heard it felt the temperature of the entire classroom drop several degrees.
"…"
A dead silence.
"You… you call this 'helping'?!" Marc, the introverted writer, couldn't help but raise his voice.
He exchanged a horrified glance with Nathaniel, "You're rubbing salt in his wound! And the kind with chili powder!"
"Exactly," Nathaniel, the red-haired artist, echoed, "Creativity requires emotion, Kim, but your method only breeds the most negative kind."
Rose and Julie, who had just mustered the courage to come back, also offered their opinions.
"That's too much, Kim!" Rose puffed out her cheeks, "How could you do that to Ivan?"
"He… he looked so pitiful…" Julie added softly, her voice almost inaudible.
"Even if Ivan usually looks fierce, you shouldn't provoke him like that," Ellie also found Kim's behavior incomprehensible.
Marinette and Alya stood together.
Alya shook her head and said, "Kim, I take back what I said earlier; you weren't kicked in the head by a soccer ball, you simply didn't bring your brain to school."
Marinette, on the other hand, looked worried.
She glanced towards the door, then at the black-haired boy, Jaden, who was quietly observing from the edge of the crowd.
She noticed that Jaden's face did not show the same anger or confusion as others, but rather a… a profound, calm expression, as if he was contemplating something.
This made her feel a bit strange.
This new transfer student was always so quiet, yet seemed to see everything.
There was an indescribable allure about him, like a hidden current beneath a windless lake at night.
"Hmph, utterly boring," Chloé said, arms crossed, in her characteristic, condescending tone, "To yell so much over such a small thing, that Ivan is also too brainless.
But you, Kim, you're just as hopelessly stupid."
"Chloé is right!" Sabrina immediately agreed.
Jaden ignored the duo over there.
His gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Max.
Max was looking down, with an expression of "I don't know this idiot next to me," desperately trying to reduce his presence.
Jaden lightly "tsk-ed."
This soft sound was not obvious amidst the noisy chatter, but Max flinched as if pricked by a needle, suddenly raising his head.
Seeing Jaden staring at him, he awkwardly pushed up his glasses and could only defend his friend, "Uh… he… he's just like that, there's no malice, it's just… his method is rather… rather direct."
"See! Max understands me!" Kim immediately found a savior, throwing an arm around Max's neck, "I bet Ivan will thank me after he calms down! I helped him break through that barrier! Alright, let's go to the gym! Max, let's go!"
With that, he half-dragged, half-pulled Max out of the classroom, regardless of his willingness, leaving behind a group of students looking at each other.
Everyone exchanged glances, then all shook their heads helplessly.
"We… should go too," Alya sighed, "Let's talk when Ivan gets back, hope he's okay."
Everyone gradually picked up their belongings and walked towards the gym in twos and threes.
Marinette walked beside Alya, still unable to resist looking back.
Jaden was unhurriedly following at the very end of the crowd, his hands still in his pockets, his expression indifferent, as if the recent farce was merely a play unrelated to him… On the other side, Ivan's heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs leading to the principal's office, each step like treading on his self-esteem.
His chest heaved violently, his mind filled with the scene in the classroom just now.
The looks from his classmates, Kim's hateful face, and… Mylène's startled face.
He didn't mean to scare her; he was just… just too angry!
The crumpled paper in his pocket, clutched tightly, felt like a red-hot coal, burning his palm and scorching his reason.
He arrived at the principal's office door, which had a sign that read "Principal: Mr. Damocles."
His overwhelming anger made him forget all etiquette; he didn't knock, directly turned the doorknob, and pushed the door open.
"Bang!"
Principal Damocles, a short, stout middle-aged man with a walrus mustache, was engrossed in a pile of documents on his desk.
Startled by the sudden intrusion, his pen tip drew a long ink mark on a document.
"Ahem!" He looked up, saw the furious Ivan, and immediately assumed his principal's authority, frowning and saying, "Student, do you not know to knock first? Get out, close the door, and knock again before entering."
"I…" Ivan was about to argue but was cut off by the principal's undeniable gaze.
Get out? Knock again?
He felt his lungs were about to explode with rage.
He had just been utterly humiliated in front of the entire class, and now he was being treated by the principal in a way one would treat a three-year-old child?
The injustice, anger, and humiliation in his heart reached their peak at this moment.
He gritted his teeth, retreated without a word, and slammed the door shut.
"Bang!"
He leaned his back against the cold door, standing in the empty corridor.
It was eerily quiet all around, only his heavy breathing audible.
"Why… why do they all treat me like this…" he hissed softly, his large body trembling slightly with anger.
Just then, a black-purple butterfly silently flew in through the window at the end of the corridor.
It flew so lightly, so quietly, as if it were not a physical entity but a flowing shadow.
It circled, flying accurately towards Ivan.
Ivan was immersed in his emotional black hole, completely unaware of this ominous visitor.
The Akuma Butterfly lightly landed on his pants pocket, then, as if possessing the ability to penetrate matter, silently merged into it, attaching itself to the crumpled paper, damp with sweat and kneaded by anger.
In an instant, a seductive, deep, and authoritative voice resonated directly in Ivan's mind.
"Stoneheart, I am Hawk Moth."
Ivan trembled violently, looking around in fright.
The corridor was empty.
"They mock your weakness, trample on your feelings, and restrain your anger with ignorant rules.
A world that doesn't even dare to express its true feelings is, in itself, a mistake."
The voice seemed to know his deepest pain, every word precisely hitting his sore spots.
"I can give you power.
Make you indestructible, make all who despise you pay the price, and turn all that injustice and humiliation into dust."