As A Mafia Boss I Refuse To Be An Extra Chapter 230

[ … words ]

[The Capitol – ACC Federation Stadium – Afternoon]

’The Capitol’ – the Federation’s beating heart, where all major decisions were made and where power concentrated like nowhere else.

Today, the massive ACC Federation Stadium was swarming with people.

Reporters from every major news network jostled for position, cameras ready and microphones extended.

Fans wearing academy colors crowded the barriers, hoping to catch glimpses of their favorite teams. Officials moved through the chaos with practiced efficiency.

The tournament teams would arrive today and stay in the stadium’s attached residential complex for the competition’s duration.

Most teams had already arrived over the past few days, traveling from distant regions.

But a few local teams were still incoming.

The crowd’s energy built with each arrival – cheering for favorites, analyzing team compositions and speculating about chances.

Then… the Stormhold Academy bus appeared.

The distinctive Academy crest on the vehicle’s side drew immediate attention with cameras swinging toward it and reporters pushing forward aggressively.

The door opened.

Professor Seraphina Vale stepped out first – her S+ rank presence making even reporters step back instinctively. Her black hair was pulled back professionally, her violet eyes scanning the crowd with military assessment.

Then… Elizabeth Murdock emerged.

And the crowd went absolutely bonkers immediately!

“ELIZABETH!”

“PRESIDENT MURDOCK!”

“WE LOVE YOU!”

Her purple hair and eyes caught the light perfectly, her elegant bearing making her look like royalty descending from a carriage rather than a student exiting a bus.

Adrian came next, then Victoria White, then Fiona Sigurd.

Unfamiliar first-year faces that drew confused whispers.

Then Edrin, Ariana, Ronan, Lysa and Zavier – more first-years.

’Where are the senior students? Where’s Gareth? Where’s Arielle?’

Finally, Damian stepped out.

His black coat moved elegantly with his movement, his dark glasses hiding his crimson eyes, his hands sliding into his pockets as he surveyed the chaos with complete calm.

And that’s when everyone noticed properly.

There were no senior students and experienced fourth-years. Just first-years and one third-year.

The whispers exploded into open conversation.

“What happened to their team?”

“Where are the veterans?”

“Is this really Stormhold’s lineup?”

“They look so young!”

One reporter – more aggressive and better connected than the others – pushed to the front, shouting.

“BREAKING NEWS! Sources at Stormhold Academy confirm that five senior Council members resigned hours before departure! The team has been forced to field first-year substitutes!”

Boom!

The crowd erupted.

Reporters swarmed Elizabeth and Seraphina, microphones thrust forward, questions overlapping.

“President Murdock! Is it true your Council betrayed you?”

“Professor Vale! How can you compete with such inexperienced students?”

“What happened to Gareth Blackwood and Arielle Voss?”

“Do you have any statement about the internal chaos?”

Elizabeth and Seraphina said nothing, their faces professional masks, walking forward without acknowledging the questions.

Then the reporters turned to Damian, recognizing the Vice President.

“MR. VALCOR! Due to your controversial policies, it seems Stormhold Academy has descended into internal chaos! Do you regret anything you’ve done?”

“Your reforms have destabilized the entire institution!”

“Sources say you’re the weakest Stormhold team in tournament history!”

“How do you respond to accusations that you’ve destroyed your Academy’s chances?”

Damian stopped walking.

“…”

The crowd immediately quieted, everyone holding breath with cameras focusing on him, waiting for his response.

His hand came up, removing his dark glasses slowly, revealing crimson eyes that swept across the assembled reporters and crowd with absolute calm.

“Regret?”

His voice carried clearly despite not being loud.

“I regret nothing. Every action I’ve taken was necessary. Every reform was required. The corruption I dismantled was rotting the Academy from within.”

He looked directly at the cameras.

“As for being the weakest team in history – we’ll see about that. I prefer to let results speak louder than speculation.”

Then… he put his glasses back on, his smile becoming something dangerous.

“To every team here: don’t get comfortable. We might be young and we might be inexperienced. But we’re hungry in ways you comfortable and privileged students can’t understand.”

His voice dropped lower, but the microphones caught every word.

“See you in the arena.”

He turned and walked away without looking back, his coat moving with his stride, his confidence absolute despite the circumstances.

“…”

The crowd stood in stunned silence for a moment.

Whisper

Then the whispers exploded – some dismissive and some impressed, all acknowledging that Damian Valcor had just thrown down a challenge to every Academy present.

****

[Television Studio – Tournament Coverage]

Noah Montague sat across from Sarah Lin in the brightly lit studio, their faces showing professional concern as they discussed breaking news.

“Welcome back to Tournament Watch! I’m Noah Montague, and we’ve just received shocking developments from the Capitol.”

Sarah leaned forward, her expression grave.

“Stormhold Academy – defending champions – have arrived with what many analysts are calling the weakest lineup in tournament history. Five senior Council members resigned mere hours before departure.”

Noah pulled up holographic displays showing team compositions.

“Their roster now consists of President Elizabeth Murdock – admittedly exceptional at A- rank – but surrounded almost entirely by first-year students with no experienced veterans and no proven tournament performers.”

“This is unprecedented,” Sarah added. “The tournament has always featured each Academy’s best fourth-years. But Stormhold is fielding students who’ve never competed at this level.”

Noah nodded grimly.

“Political analysts suggest this was coordinated sabotage by Imperial families unhappy with Vice President Damian Valcor’s reforms. By removing experienced members at the last moment, they’ve essentially crippled Stormhold’s chances.”

“The question everyone’s asking,” Sarah said, looking directly at the camera, “is whether this brilliant political move just handed victory to Imperial Academy or one of the other top contenders.”

“We’ll find out soon,” Noah concluded. “But right now, most betting markets have completely written off Stormhold Academy. They’re not even in the top five predictions anymore.”

****

[ACC Stadium Residential Complex – Stormhold Suite – Evening]

Damian stood before the mirror in his assigned room, adjusting his suit with practiced movements.

It was a black suit, perfectly tailored with white shirt underneath and black tie knotted precisely. His shoulder-length crimson hair slicked back, showing his sharp features.

He looked older than sixteen and dangerous. Like someone who’d seen things that aged the soul even when the body remained young.

’A fucking ball. They’re making us attend a formal ball before the tournament. What kind of ridiculous tradition is this?’

Knock Knock

A knock at his door.

He opened it to find Elizabeth standing there in a beautiful purple dress that matched her hair and eyes, elegant without being excessive, the kind of outfit that drew attention naturally.

She smiled at his appearance.

“Ready for the ball?”

Damian sighed, his voice showing mild exasperation.

“Is this really necessary? We have a tournament to prepare for and training to complete.”

Elizabeth shrugged, her smile becoming slightly teasing.

“The President and Vice President of all participating Academies are required to attend the ACC ball before the tournament officially begins. It’s tradition. An opportunity to form connections with peers and establish diplomatic relationships.”

She gestured toward the hallway.

“Come on. It won’t kill you to socialize for a few hours.”

Damian sighed again but followed, his hands sliding back into his pockets as they walked toward the ballroom.

’Nobles. Nobles everywhere. This is going to be insufferable.’