Knock, knock.
“Seila, it’s Hamyun. I brought Jerimiel with me.”
In front of Seila’s room,
Hamyun felt a bit nervous.
‘Did Seila really invite him here?’
Even though Hamyun was in the same class, he had never received a personal invitation from Seila before.
He imagined what kind of reaction Seila might have.
‘But I never agreed to meet Jerimiel…?’
However, that hope was short-lived.
“Sure. Come in.”
“Okay.”
When Hamyun glanced to the side, Jerimiel was smirking in an annoying way.
It was as if his expression said, “See? That’s how much she likes me.”
When Hamyun opened the door and stepped inside, he felt a wave of despair.
‘W–What is this?!’
A small folding table had been set up, and on top of it sat what was unmistakably a steak—one that Seila had clearly made herself.
“Steak…?”
“Yes. It’s made from tofu, though.”
Hamyun blinked a few times.
He knew Seila was known for sharing fresh vegetables with the students—technically in exchange for promissory notes, but everyone still thought of it as generosity—but this was completely different.
Seila had never personally invited anyone into her room to serve them food!
“Seila, you made this yourself?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Jerimiel took a step forward.
“Thanks for showing me the way, Hamyun.”
To Hamyun, that sounded a lot like: “You can leave now.”
He frowned slightly.
“How do I know you won’t pull something shady on one of our classmates?”
“I was simply invited by Seila herself,” Jerimiel replied coolly. “I came as her guest.”
“Seila might trust you, but I don’t.”
“I was invited to dinner, and I’d like to have a cozy meal with just Seila. Alone. Because I’m hungry.”
“I know you already ate dinner.”
Sparks practically flew between them.
Seila shook her head as she looked at the two.
‘They’re already having a power struggle.’
These two—Hamyun, who would lead the Swordsmanship Class, and Jerimiel, who would lead the General Studies Class—were destined rivals who would one day clash fiercely over the heroine.
So of course, it made sense that they’d butt heads over everything.
“Fortunately, I made enough. Hamyun, have a seat.”
“You heard her,” Hamyun said, now grinning widely.
His earlier nervousness melted away, while Jerimiel’s once-confident expression darkened.
“I think I’ll finally be able to finish the refrigerator project,” Seila said. “Thanks to you, Jerimiel.”
Hamyun, chewing his tofu steak, grinned slyly.
“So you’re saying you managed to complete something thanks to Jerimiel?”
“Yeah.”
“And this dinner’s your way of repaying him?”
“That’s right.”
Relieved, Hamyun leaned back with a bright expression.
“I knew it.”
“……”
Seila watched his reaction, slightly confused.
‘Did he think I was here to declare war or something?’
There had been rumors among the students about that, but she didn’t think Hamyun would believe them.
Seeing him look so reassured made her realize he had misunderstood a bit.
‘Well, that works out fine.’
After all, misunderstandings are cleared up best through conversation.
Now that the three of them were sitting together, everything could be sorted out peacefully.
* * *
The next morning, the sleeping students were startled awake.
“Wake up, you lazy brats! The morning has come!”
Most of the first-years bolted upright.
It felt like someone was ringing a giant bell inside their heads.
“Starting today, you’ll be selecting your class representatives! Once chosen, those representatives will report to the principal’s office!”
Some students shouted questions into the air.
“How do we pick the class rep?”
“Do we vote?”
“Do we fight for it?”
“Do we bid with donations?”
“Are you telling me none of you geniuses can figure out how to pick your own representative? Typical for such ‘pure and brilliant’ minds. Use your heads, you blockheads!”
Hearing the muscle-bound principal’s voice echo through the dorms, Seila slowly got up from bed.
‘So the day has finally come.’
This was, in fact, the real beginning of <That Girl and Her Crazy Guys>.
It’s when the three “handsome lunatics” each became class representatives and started getting entangled with the heroine.
‘I may not be in the Magic Class this time, but… it won’t really change much.
As long as Ferneldee becomes the Magic Class representative, the story should follow the same flow as the original.’
The first class to act was the Academic Class, marked by their golden name tags.
With Prince Leon among them, everything moved quickly.
“Our noble Academic Class, made up of refined and intelligent aristocrats, shall select our representative in a free and peaceful manner.”
“A mere majority vote won’t do! To truly represent us, one must earn at least ninety percent of the votes!”
It was as if they had prepared in advance—ballot boxes appeared, and the secret voting began.
In the end, Leon was elected with an astonishing 97% approval rate.
“I knew Prince Leon would win!”
“Don’t call him ‘Prince.’ He hates that.”
“Right—Leon! I knew it’d be him!”
The General Studies Class also selected their representative swiftly.
After all, there was only one candidate from the start.
“Alright, alright, hurry up and cast your votes!”
“I–I was going to register as a candidate too—”
“What? You wanna die?”
The General Studies Class, often looked down on by others, had grown unusually tight-knit.
“Who the hell dared to vote against him?”
Their election was very different from the Academic Class’s refined process.
Jerimiel received an absurd 130% approval rate and became class representative.
‘B–But I voted against him…’
Her dissenting vote was never counted.
Meanwhile, the Magic Class took a bit longer.
They first held a vote to narrow down the candidates to two:
Ferneldee of House Lupiano, and Ronen of House Diaphus.
Then those two faced off in a magical duel.
“Did you hear? Ferneldee and Ronen are up for the spot!”
“Who’s gonna win?”
“The Lupiano family serves as Dvernon’s top vassals. Ferneldee will definitely win.”
“No way! The Diaphus family specializes in combat magic! Ronen’s got this.”
After an intense duel, Ferneldee barely managed to win.
In the principal’s office, the Muscle Principal grinned.
“The students are showing a decent sense of unity.”
Before him sat Professor Number, who oversaw the election process as mediator and monitor.
The reason the principal had chosen him was simple:
“So, no problems?”
“None…”
Professor Number had zero interest in anything but numbers.
Whether the students elected a representative or a radish, he didn’t care.
He didn’t intervene, even when mild violence or vote-rigging occurred.
That’s why the Muscle Principal always left this job to him.
“Then please sign here.”
Academic Class Representative – Leon
General Studies Class Representative – Jerimiel
Magic Class Representative – Ferneldee
Professor Number signed his name: “NO.”
His face was full of boredom—he couldn’t care less who became representative.
“And the Swordsmanship Class…?”
“Well, that one’s turning out to be interesting.”
* * *
“Alright, my brave comrades! Let’s test our mettle!”
“Bring it on, you weaklings!”
The Swordsmanship Class used a free-duel system to pick their representative.
Their logic was simple: “I can’t stand someone weaker than me being the leader.”
“Hey, fight me.”
“Fine!”
Anyone who met eyes with someone else immediately started fighting.
Some used wooden swords, others fought barehanded.
There were rules and order, technically speaking—but from the outside, it looked like an all-out brawl.
“Huff… huff… my turn. Fight me next.”
“Wait, I need to recover my stamina.”
“Coward! You backing out?”
“Coward? You wanna repeat that?”
A few students passed out from exhaustion, unable to manage their stamina.
Eventually, only four remained standing:
Hamyun of the Queibec family
Seila of the Dvernon family
Dorfina, the model of kindness
A mysterious black-haired boy of unknown origin
“It figures Hamyun made it to the end.”
No one objected to Hamyun being among the final four.
“But how did Seila survive?”
“She trained under Lord Queibec himself, remember?”
“She probably used some kind of magical trick we don’t know about!”
“What nonsense. Seila’s swordsmanship is way better than you think.”
“Yeah. Anyone talking trash about her will taste my blade.”
“Seila’s the real deal.”
Though some were skeptical, most accepted Seila’s place among the finalists.
“But what about her?”
Everyone looked puzzled seeing Dorfina among them.
“S–S–Scary…”
Dorfina clung tightly to Seila’s back.
And that’s how she survived.
“You can survive like that?”
“Apparently, yes.”
Everyone gave her a look of pity, but since no one actually thought she’d become representative, they didn’t bother caring much.
“But who’s that guy?”
“I don’t know. Never seen him before.”
“His name’s… Troy?”
Seila turned her gaze toward the boy named Troy.
‘What… is this?’
Suddenly, she felt as though her breath had been stolen away.
