“Why are you acting so tough! You do nothing all day, laze around, and not only that, you keep causing trouble. If only you could be half as good as your older brother!” The most familiar voice to James Carter came through—it was his mother’s scolding. James Carter listened and just kept quiet. On the other end, both his mother and younger sister were silent, as if they were thinking about something.

“It’s not a big deal to beat a hooligan thief to death, as long as it doesn’t stir up public outrage. But you actually broke a detective’s bones! Now that’s a real problem.” After quite a while, his mother’s calm voice came through, not the least bit flustered, truly the tone of someone in charge. “Here’s what you do: don’t panic, just go about your business as usual. If the police come to arrest you, absolutely do not resist. There will naturally be someone to get you out. Just be more careful in the future, and don’t cause any more trouble for the family.”

Listening to his mother’s endless nagging, with a hint of threat in her words—“No more extra money for you from now on.” “Come back right away and learn to manage the business.” And so on, James Carter could only nod repeatedly and answer meekly. After hanging up, he finally let out a long sigh of relief and felt at ease. Even though he had broken the law, unless things got blown out of proportion and caused a public uproar, no matter how powerful the forces involved, it couldn’t be covered up.

However, the person James Carter killed this time was probably a source of satisfaction for many, and would become a hot topic for people to gossip about after meals. No one would go to the trouble of making a scene or tracking down the killer for the sake of a scumbag thief. Of course, if James Carter had raped an innocent woman or killed a good person, and nothing happened, people would most likely have caused an uproar.

Actually, ordinary people have their own sense of justice in their hearts, sometimes even more accurate than the law.

As for how his mother would handle the situation, James Carter couldn’t be bothered to think about it—he’d find out in due time anyway. Since his mother sounded so calm, there was no way she’d really let her own son go to jail.

Not worrying about any of that, James Carter swaggered back to school, feeling no burden at all. He had just missed quite a bit of time and skipped a morning class, for which he got scolded by the professor. Other than that, there wasn’t much trouble.

As a student of literature and history, the class was mostly girls—chattering and lively, with a fragrant scent filling the classroom. Since it was only freshman year and everyone had just started, they were all a bit reserved, so there weren’t many couples yet. Occasionally, there were one or two pairs of boys and girls sitting together, whispering sweet nothings, acting as if no one else was around, but no one bothered them. Life was just like that, generally uneventful.

After a few classes, besides the guys he had shared a dorm with for a few days before, James Carter also took the initiative to get to know two other boys and eight or nine girls. Among them, a few girls wore designer brands and were quite pretty—obviously from wealthy families. But they were all easygoing in conversation, and none of them had the kind of tall, arrogant, look-down-on-everything, self-important beauty you read about in novels. After all, that’s just a literary stereotype; in reality, that kind of personality doesn’t work. If someone really acted like that in real life, people would just think they were crazy.

But after spending more time together, those from well-off families tended to stick together, and those from less privileged backgrounds did the same. They interacted more and had more in common, but there was never any obvious looking down on others. Even if someone did look down on others, it was only in their hearts and never expressed openly. Of course, there were exceptions, but those who showed it openly only ended up being looked down on themselves—everyone has a soft spot for the underdog.

But this also depends on character. If you’re poor, sleazy, and have sticky fingers, then there’s nothing anyone can do for you.

Since there was no fourth class today, after three classes, some classmates got up to return to the dorm or go out for a stroll, while James Carter was thinking about what to have for lunch and musing to himself: “Looks like the police aren’t very efficient at solving cases. I killed someone in broad daylight and they still haven’t come to arrest me. Could it be that guy didn’t die? Impossible. He took a direct hit from my Mountain-Pushing Palm—his internal organs must be shattered. Even if he didn’t die, the matter with the detective should be enough for them to come after me.”

He spun his pen absentmindedly, lost in thought, when suddenly a waft of fragrance drifted over—turns out the class monitor had stood up. “Everyone, please wait a moment.”

The class monitor was a beauty, about 1.69 or nearly 1.7 meters tall, which was considered tall among girls. Judging by her dress, manner, and bearing, she was clearly a rich girl. Her name was Emily Bolton. James Carter had known this for a while—they had just spoken earlier.

Generally speaking, when a girl is a class monitor or student leader, she’s usually a beauty or a rich girl—first and foremost a beauty, which gives her a certain confidence. As for rich girls, having money in their pockets makes them more assertive. With both confidence and assertiveness, their whole aura is different—it’s just the natural order of things. Of course, there are also rare cases of very talented but unattractive girls becoming class monitors. In short, you need some kind of ability to win people over, whether it’s innate or acquired, as long as you have it.

If you’re not rich, not pretty, and not talented, then you don’t fit the natural order and can’t be a class leader. James Carter understood this very well. That’s why most female class leaders are beauties—it fits with Mr. Darwin’s theory of evolution.

When the classmates saw Emily Bolton stand up to speak, they all quieted down. Some outgoing girls even teased, “Madam Class Monitor, are you about to announce you have a boyfriend?” which made the whole classroom burst into giggles.