In the hallways of Larvo University, heads turned as Marcus Xu, a strikingly handsome and charismatic performing arts student, strolled confidently down the corridor. His mere presence commanded attention, drawing admiring glances from both male and female students alike. "Of course, you'll be amazed by my charm," Marcus thought with confidence. He was keenly aware of the attention he was receiving, and he relished it. "Take a good look while you can. Once I become a superstar, you'll rarely catch me in person," he mused inwardly. As Marcus walked, his easy smile and relaxed demeanor exuded an irresistible charm. "Oh my gosh, it's Marcus Xu! He's so dreamy," a female student whispered to her friend. "I know, right? He's like a walking work of art," another female student giggled. "Man, how does he do it? He's got everyone's attention without even trying," a male student commented bitterly. As Marcus passed by, students couldn't help but steal glances, their eyes lingering on his
The buzz of excitement rippled through the corridors as students poured out of their classrooms, drawn by the flickering LED board at the department's entrance. Marcus Xu, however, approached with a sense of apprehension gnawing at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. As the video began to play, Marcus's stomach churned. He watched in disbelief as his modest living quarters were broadcast for all to see. The whispers and gasps around him felt like icy needles pricking his skin. "Is that your place, Marcus?" a voice sliced through the murmurs. Marcus nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched. He despised the pity in their eyes and the thinly veiled judgment. "Can you even afford to be here?" another voice sneered. His classmates' comments felt like daggers, each one drawing blood. Marcus fought to maintain his composure, but his hands trembled with suppressed rage. "I’m fine," he managed to choke out, but his words sounded feeble even to his own ears. Just as M
Marcus Xu was immediately taken to the dean’s office, while Reyster and his friends were sent to the hospital. "You've been doing well. Why are you causing trouble now, with only a few months before graduation?" the dean groaned, frustration etched on his face. "It's not me. It was Reyster and his friends who—" Marcus began, but the dean cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to hear it," the dean said sternly. "I'm sorry, but you can't graduate because of this incident." Marcus's mind raced, but he kept his face impassive. He knew the dean was likely making hasty decisions because Reyster was a relative of the school director. "Seriously?" he said, feeling the injustice searing through him. "This is a serious matter. I will make sure you won't get expelled, but your graduation this year is not possible," the dean stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "Are you sure about that? I wasn't the one in the wrong here," Marcus argued, his voice steady but edged with
Marcus Xu scowled, nearly dropping his food, when a foreigner yanked him upright. "Hey, don't grab me!" he exclaimed, pushing the stranger away. "I'm Philip Cheng, Greg's strategic assistant. Please, I desperately need someone to take his place for a while," Philip pleaded, casting cautious glances around. "Why me?" Marcus queried, recognizing Gregory William's name from the prominent conglomerate family. Gregory William was a household name synonymous with success, wealth, and the glittering facade of high society. His face was a fixture in business magazines; he was hailed as a genius in corporate strategy and a mogul in the construction and estate industries. “There’s a catch?” Marcus said, sensing the danger. "I just need someone, please," Philip insisted, attempting to tug Marcus's arm again. "I don’t know, man. This sounds sketchy," Marcus replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty, though inwardly his interest was piqued. “Just name your price. I'm in a rush!” Philip impa
Marcus Xu froze, unsure of what to do. His worry mounted about his pay and contract with Magic Entertainment potentially going to waste."Your physique looks exactly like that of my husband, but mister..." Margarette commented, scrutinizing Marcus's appearance. "My husband never answers back. He's good at sitting still.""Ah, that's why Philip Cheng told me to stay still," Marcus admitted, resigning himself to the situation. There was no need to continue acting now that he had been caught. He removed his mask and met Margarette's gaze with a brave face."You're really nothing like him. My husband's ugly," Margarette remarked bluntly the moment Marcus's handsome face was revealed."Why do you even mock Sir Gregory?" Marcus asked in disbelief, wondering what kind of mistreatment a wealthy man had been enduring until now."Where did you find this man, Philip?" Margarette inquired, ignoring Marcus's question."He's one of the performers here at the hotel. His body looks similar to Sir Greg
Marcus Xu stood confidently, despite his attire—a worn sweatshirt and a faded tank top—as he regarded Philip Cheng with skepticism. The incessant nagging from Miguel had seeded doubt in him, casting a shadow over any further requests from Philip Cheng."I'm sorry, Sir Philip Cheng, but are you disregarding the payment you owe me?" Marcus inquired, his tone firm.Philip Cheng's smile faltered, taken aback by Marcus's response. "I will certainly arrange for your payment this week. You want a contract, correct? I'll handle it. But please, lend me your assistance once more," he urged, a note of urgency in his voice."What will I receive in return?" Marcus pressed, his gaze unwavering."What? You want a contract, don't you?" Philip retorted."The contract is the reward for my previous work. Today is different. What compensation can I expect for this new task?" Marcus demanded, his resolve unyielding, unwilling to be exploited."What do you desire? More money?" Philip asked, a hint of irrit
Marcus, attired in the golf gear provided by Philip Cheng, sat in the passenger seat of the car, prepared to receive Philip's instructions."Anything else?" Marcus murmured, toying with the mask in his hands as Philip settled into the driver's seat."Familiarize yourself with this," Philip directed, handing a document to Marcus."No ‘staying still’ today?" Marcus quipped, glancing through the detailed script before him. The script is a document that outlines what he is supposed to say in response to specific scenarios. This assignment felt like a test of his skills as an aspiring actor."Why? Can't you handle the role?" Philip inquired."This is a piece of cake. I'm excellent at memorizing lines," Marcus confidently asserted. "But according to this, Gregory William comes across with pride and dominance here.""Gregory only shows deference in front of the William family, but he exudes superiority around everyone else," Philip clarified, scratching the back of his head."Does he have a s
The conversation started casually, but as everyone's interest turned to ridiculing Miguel Xu, the atmosphere on the golf course grew increasingly toxic."Stop being generous; fire him," CEO Busan commented with a smirk, glancing at the others as if he were sending a message through his eyes.Marcus Xu, however, couldn't decipher it."Should I fire him?" Reyster responded with a playful grin."Oh, come on, that’s not necessary," CEO Busan said, approaching Miguel. His shadow loomed over Miguel, making him feel tiny. "I’m just kidding; carry on with your job."Miguel looked up at CEO Busan, flustered by the sudden friendly tone. He then glanced at the flag that CEO Busan handed him."W-what do I need to do?" Miguel asked nervously, taking the flag with trembling hands."The sun is too strong today; we can't see well. Tend the flag for us," CEO Busan said, smiling as if he were ultimately having fun.“But I don't know how to tend a flag,” Miguel anxiously said, as he didn't even know wher