The King's Wife Is The Alpha's Mate - Chapter 162 The Grieving Royals

The protagonist is a guy who is among the stupidest of the stupidest in the school. In this school, your grades can, under the supervision of teachers, take a virtual form to do combat! However, if you leave an examination half way, you get zero marks. A bright and cute girl, Mizuki Himeji, was having a high fever during the examination. Despite her potential to be the second highest scorer in the level, she obtained zero marks for having left due to her illness and is thus allocated to the worst class, class F.

Grades mean almost everything. For Class A, they have a smart-looking teacher, a plasma TV as big as the entire wall as their blackboard, personal laptops, personal air-cons, refrigerators, adjustable seats and all kinds of different appliances. Within the refrigerator, there are all kinds of drinks and snacks. Their ceiling is made of glass, the wall lets them put up high-class drawings and plants.

As for Class F, the worst class… They have Japanese desks and seat paddings. Their blackboard is dirty and there is no chalk even! Someone complains that the legs of his desk are broken, so the teacher asks, “Didn’t we distribute some glue to stick wood together? Glue it back yourself later.” Another one complains that wind is blowing in from the broken window. The teacher says, “I got it. I will apply for plastic bags and invisible glue to fix it later.” There are spider webs everywhere, not a patch of the wall is clean. A unique moldy smell spreads across the entire room; it must be from the old tatamis used to tile the floor. This is the status of class F.

The protagonist feels displeased at such an arrangement, and seeks help from his friends to try to make a change through summoning war!! And they devise all kinds of plans to try to beat the famous class A, intending to get class A’s classroom and equipment if they win!!

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

Being a bottom feeder in society is an unpleasant experience.That's how Kiro felt after being left for dead in a back alley. Abandoned and disappointed by the 'work hard' ethic his parents left for him.'At least the heavens are weeping for me.' As the light from his eyes faded, he declared as the last act of defiance.He awoke in a room he hadn't seen in ten years. Whether it was due to sheer luck or divine intervention, he was grateful.'Through the VR game, Asgard, I'll become filthy rich in this life time.'Kiro was blissfully unaware that his return was a cry for something greater, for the underlying threats that hovered over his world.

Leon Thorne was the disgrace of his house, overweight, softspoken, and dismissed as a failure before he ever picked up a sword. Mocked during the Awakening and branded an F-rank, he was expected to fade quietly from the halls of power.But he didn’t.Because this wasn’t his first life.In another timeline, Leon watched House Thorne fall, shamed, scattered and erased from history. Powerless to stop it then, he’s been given one chance to rewrite it now.Stripped of excuses and reshaped by hardship, Leon claws his way forward—through blood, sweat and silence. Now, leaner and sharper, he enters an academy where only strength speaks and legacy decides your worth.But Leon carries no crest. No backing. Just scars, a sword, and the will to shatter fate itself.He’s not looking to be acknowledged or praised.He’s going to rewrite everything.NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES.